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sweets3rial · 6 months ago

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i wanted it to be you. (II)

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: when Leon thinks things are too late, he gets a friendly reminder that things are never too late.

tags: angst/comfort, happy endings, fluff, wedding ceremony, marriage, vows, talks about future, small mention of overbearing in-laws, reader having many second thoughts, drunk letters/vows, Chris and Claire Redfield mentioned, runaway bride, panic/anxiety attacks, Leon loves you, time skips, teasing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya' tap it)

warnings: panic and anxiety attacks

word count: 10.3K (yikes srry ya'll)

“my dream house?”

“yeah, tell me.” he urged, bumping your hip with his. you looked up into the sky, pondering his question. it was a good question. you’d never thought of something like that before. you were so used to your two-bedroom and one-half-bathroom apartment.

“well, i want lots of greenery. like plants in every corner and in every room.” you began, using your spoon as a little wand as you spoke. “i also want a lot of warm lights, to give the house a nice welcoming vibe to it,”

he hummed, nodding as you finished each sentence. “i like earthy tones or nude tones, nice soft couches, and a stone fireplace. a big living room and a large dining room- y’know how in those movies where the rich sad family gathers for dinner and it’s very awkward and quiet?”

his eyebrows furrowed, “you want something like that?”

you chuckled, “no, but i want my dining room to look like that just less … sad.”

“i see, it’s like those where the father is at the end and the mother at the other end,”

“exactly,” you smiled wider. you picked a cherry floating atop your frozen yogurt, taking it by the stem and bringing it to his lips. he opened his mouth with an audible sound, wrapping his cold lips around the fruit and plucking it off the stem.

you flicked the stem out of your fingers and onto the street where it’ll be swept away in the wind and trampled on by those who walked by.

“i want a large backyard, with either a poo or just a large field of grass.” you smiled at the thought of walking out onto your porch as an old feeble woman to enjoy a cup of coffee as you stared out into your backyard to watch the sun set or rise. or even watch your future kids play with the family dog.

you never wanted to have kids. just the thought of splitting yourself in half while pushing out new life sent chills up your spine. but sometimes, the idea of holding a child to your chest and watching it grow. the idea of listening to them laugh and play, watching as they discovered new interests and learned new things, and being alive to discover the person they will become, doesn’t sound too bad.

“i want a balcony, one that stretches from one side of the house to the other. that way i can sit outside and i don’t know enjoy a nice cigarette.”

a laugh erupted from his chest at the thought of you only wanting a balcony to smoke a cigarette. but then that image warped into him watching you from the door smoking that cigarette. the wind blowing in your hair, the sun kissing your skin, your clothes flapping against your skin.

he imagined you’d be wearing a baggy shirt, maybe one of his shirts. the wind blowing up from the balcony would cause your shirt to cling to you. to your curves and the dips of your body, the purchase of your hips, and the slim of your waist.

you’d turn to him with your elbows leaned up against the railing behind you, cigarette between the plump skin of your lips as you beckoned him over to join you.

“i had a friend,” you started, interrupting his small daydream.

“her parents had this master bedroom. when you walked in, to your left was a sliding door that led to the balcony overlooking her backyard, and then to the right was a couple’s bathroom,” you sighed at the memory, you envied her.

one, because her parents were happily married and slept in the same bed. two, because she had a big house with a large backyard. and three, because she was happy. she lived luxuriously in her big house, she was spoiled, and her parents doted on her. her life was perfect.

yours, not so much.

“her mom occupied one sink with her makeup and her jewelry, and her dad occupied the other with cologne and little figures,” you gulped down a lump in your throat, looking up at him to see him already looking at you. you could see the sad look on his face. the look of pity and sadness, it left a stab in your heart knowing that you probably ruined his night for him.

“i want that.” your words left your throat with a small croak. you weren’t just talking about a couples bathroom with a jacuzzi bathtub but also to be happy. to live in a large house, to be happy with your future husband and kids, to enjoy luxurious jewelry and clothes.

his heart hurt at the look in your eyes, the yearning and the hope. he could see the pain as you spoke about your friend, even if you were smiling as if it was a good memory. he wanted to say, i can give you that.

he wanted to give you that. not only for you but also for himself, that way when you beckon him over as you smoke your cigarette he can join your side. his daydream began to play again; as he joined your side, you’d put your cigarette out and wrap your arms around his torso with a sigh.

he could smell the shampoo in your damp hair and the lotion you lathered onto your skin — along with a hint of his cologne from the baggy t-shirt that belonged to him. the wind was nice and fresh, a cooling breeze along with the warm morning sun. he’d shut his eyes and hold you to his chest, slowly swaying you back and forth as he enjoyed the warmth from the sun along with the warmth from your body.

“that sounds nice,” he looked down at you, “peaceful,”

you smiled up at him, licking your sticky lips, “yeah, it does,”

your smile slowly faded as you began to doze off, he was very … pretty. the way his dirty blonde hair framed his face so perfectly. golden strands that are soft like silk and fluffy like cotton. his eyes, how they gazed into yours, pulling you in deep like the tide of the ocean and drowning you into his being.

they say the eyes are the window to the soul. when someone furrows a brow, you can tell their soul is confused or troubled. when a tear swells you know their soul is sad. when their pupil dilates you know their soul is in love.

there is a ring around his pupils, a ring of blue — the color of his irises. his plump lips are agape, sucking in breaths and letting them go. his lashes flutter with every blink, his eyes trailing every inch of your face, taking every detail of you into memory.

you did the same. scanning over his dimpled cheeks, his high cheekbones, his strong brow bones, his long lashes, the tips of his cold ears, and the window to his soul. all of it.

“you’re so beautiful,” his words came out almost in a drunken whisper. his brain wasn’t able to process any word that left his mouth until it did.

the blood that pumped into your veins instantly ran to your face. your cheeks heating up as your eyes widened, you looked back down at your melted froyo — hoping that taking a bite would hide away your hot cheeks. “thank you,” you mumbled trying to fight back the smile creeping up onto your sticky lips.

“of course uh- back to your dream house-“

“oh right! um-“

------

a living room with comfortable couches and a coffee table in the middle sitting, in front of a large stone fireplace. a kitchen with off-white cabinets, black tile floors, and an island with black marble counters and a deep sink. a dining room with a large table with seven chairs and a runner underneath.

plants, everywhere. in the front, in the large backyard, hanging from the roof, in every room, and in every corner.

large windows that faced the sunset and sunrise, casting down their warmth and triumph into the house to illuminate every corner without a single flip of a light switch. warm lights, in the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the hallways, everywhere.

a patio out front and out back, a balcony that stretched across the back of the house. five rooms, a guest room, three kids’ rooms, and a master bedroom. a master bedroom where when you walked in, to the left were the sliding doors to the balcony, and to the right a couples bathroom and a walk-in closet.

though, it wasn’t a home. there were drapes over the furniture to keep them from collecting dust. there were no plants just empty corners. the windows were shut and no one lived there.

the rooms were empty, with nothing but carpet and walls. it wasn’t a home. it had no life, no family, no giggles and happiness. it was simply just a house.

“sir, i just need you to sign here and then we’ll lease the house.”

he straightened his posture and blinked away the dryness in his eyes. he looked over at the man, he was about his height. he wore a fancy suit, his mustache was nice and jelled up, his hair slicked back and he smelt of expensive cologne.

he took one last look around the house, his heart aching. if he closed his eyes, he could hear you in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and listening to your music or your podcasts. he could hear your voice calling him from your bedroom. he could hear a dog maybe the giggles of children. but that was just a figment of his imagination.

he was standing in the middle of a house. your dream house. the one you told him about so many years ago. back then, he would’ve said ‘i can give you that’, but he hesitated. would that have made you stay? if he said he was putting all his money into building this house for you.

buying the furniture and the tiling and marble necessary to make it happen. hiring construction workers to add on a balcony and a back porch. would all his effort … would it have made you stay?

“who’s getting married?” the realtor asked, pointing at his boutonniere with his pen. he blinked, once again brought out of his daze.

“uh my … ex-girlfriend,” he grumbled awkwardly. the realtor jumped back a little, a small strand of his slicked-back hair falling out.

“oh,” was all he could say as he too joined him in looking around the house. the real estate agent could tell that this man wasn’t looking to live here by himself, there were so many rooms, rooms for a family. a couples bathroom and a shared walk-in closet.

the realtor sighed, looking up at the man. his eyes were bloodshot red, most likely from crying or being up all night. the bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. he was holding a flask of whiskey and his posture remained slouched.

“Mr. Kennedy,” the realtor clicked his pen and hooked it back onto his suit pocket. he stuffed the paperwork under his arm and puffed out his chest. he was losing business by doing this but he’d rather see a man happy to sell his house rather than sad to sell his house.

“i was young once,” he began, standing next to Leon as he dozed off. “i too had a girlfriend, she was the girl of my dreams,” the man chuckled at the memory.

“we were young and very, very stupid,”

Leon’s head slowly turned towards the man beside him, he found that the realtor was looking out the window with a smile on his face which caused his mustache to turn upwards.

“i was poor and she was wild, i wanted to give her a proper life. so i worked and i worked to the point that i’d tire myself and i barely had time for her.”

Leon let his eyes fall to the ground, this story was sounding a bit too familiar to him. not having time for each other led to miscommunication and arguments all the time. it was not a story that he wished to retell.

“so she left me, one day i came home and she was gone.” the man sniffled a bit, watching a bird fly out of one of the trees that sat on the front lawn. the bird reminded him of her, his songbird, always singing and so loud. though, he loved it when she sang and tweeted like a bird.

her voice was always like music to his ears anyway.

“i crashed her wedding like a fool and she told me that she would’ve been happy getting married without a big ring and a big house. that she would’ve been happy with how things were,” the man let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“so, my word to you is…don’t let it be too late. if you love her and hopefully she still loves you then … make it work.” the man placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. a sign of support for the young man since he too has been in Leon’s position once.

“it is never too late to be what you wanted to be,”

'i wanted it to be you.'

your voice replayed in his head. he could still hear the tears clogged in your throat and he could still see the look in your eye. he could still smell your perfume and feel your lips on his skin. it isn’t too late. he wasn’t too late.

Leon slowly began to nod his head, building up the courage to do something anything. he knew it was time to let you go, that it was over and done.

'do you still love me?'

'goodbye, Leon.'

those were the last words you said to him. he replays the sound in his voice every night and it keeps him awake at night. he tosses and turns, missing the warmth of your body and the feeling of your skin. he feels selfish, yearning for someone who wants nothing to do with him. someone who is getting married in a few hours.

but you aren’t just anyone. dare say, you are the love of his life.

“thank you, Mr. Gudzynski.” Leon smiled at the man, taking one last chug of the whiskey in his flask before making his way out the door. Chris stood there waiting for him, leaning up against his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared down at his phone.

upon hearing Leon’s foot crush the rocks beneath him, he looked up. he stomped out his cigarette as he blew out the last puff of smoke.

“how’d it go?” Chris asked, rolling his shoulders to let the sleeves of his suit adjust.

“did you just put out your cigarette on fresh cement?”

“i guess you sold it then,” Chris chuckled dryly.

Leon took a moment to reply, looking at the porch behind him. it was empty, just plain wooden slabs. he knew how much you wanted a patio, this was your house after all.

completely inspired by you. every corner and every detail of this house you had spoken to Leon years ago. he made your dream a reality, though you'll never know that.

“i couldn’t,”

Chris turned to Leon, his frame tensing up, “uh you what?”

“i couldn’t sell it, i just…” Leon ended his sentence with a shrug and much to his dismay, Chris nodded understandably.

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to,” Chris sighed, opening the door to his car.

“what?” Leon said with a lift of his brow.

“just get in,”

the whole drive to the church, Leon could feel his body growing heavier and heavier. he was nervous. unsure of what he should do or say? will he have the time? he was constantly wiping his hands onto his pants, trying to wipe the nerves and sweat away.

he was staring out the window blankly, bouncing his leg and biting on the inside of his cheeks.

’stop that,’

‘stop what?’

your fingers reached up to tap his cheek, ‘stop biting your cheeks, you’re making me anxious’

he stopped instantly, licking over the skin that he was just biting at. you sighed, standing in front of him as you fixed his tie. you worked with straightening the silk fabric and tightening it around his neck — not too much.

he looked down at you and his nerves instantly eased. your face was relaxed, your breathing slows, your lashes fluttered with every single blink, and god you were glowing. he couldn’t help but smile, he knew he had no reason to be nervous if you were right by his side.

and here you were; fixing his tie and smoothing out his suit.

‘you got this, it’s just a simple speech, we rehearsed it many times,’ you leaned up onto your tippy toes to place a kiss on his chin. ‘and i’ll be right in the audience supporting you,’

his lips curled into a small smile at the memory, he would’ve for sure embarrassed himself if it wasn’t for you being by his side. he remembers it clear as day, standing up on that podium as he received his award, his hands were shaking and his vision was blurry.

he was trying to read off of his speech but he couldn’t. that was until he found you in the room and then suddenly, you two were in the living room of your shared apartment. you were sitting on the couch with takeout in your lap. as he practiced his speech, you’d slurp your noodles or take a bite of your fried rice as you pretended to be a high government official.

once his eyes found yours in the large crowd, you smiled up at him mouthing the words; ‘you got this,’

“we’re here,” Chris sighed aloud. Leon looked up to see many familiar faces walking up the steps into the church, hand in hand and with smiles on their faces. all dressed in black suits and dresses, a simple and traditional color.

you were never a religious woman, you weren’t the type to go to church every Sunday or pray before every meal. but here you were getting married in a church, under the eye of god as if you hadn’t slept with another man just a few months ago.

your eyes were stuck on the cross hanging above you. the hairstylist you hired was busy touching up your hair, your makeup artist was powdering your nose and adding more highlight to your cheekbones consistently saying the same words, ‘make sure you smile that way you can really pop.’

you’d give her a small silent nod, whatever made her happy.

you haven’t smiled once. it was your wedding day. after months of trying on dresses, trying cake flavors, sending out invitations, and picking out bridesmaids. the day was here and you couldn’t smile. you’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, getting your hair and makeup done.

your bridesmaids would come in screaming excitedly while waving around bottles of champagne. you put on a fake smile with fake laughs and giggles but your mind was elsewhere.

you were thinking of a lot. your future after today, losing your last name, kids, and in-laws. but mostly you were thinking about him. it was hard, writing his name down on an envelope and sending it to him through the mail.

your fiancee, soon-husband, didn’t know about you and Leon. he believes you two are coworkers and nothing more. acquaintances or even strangers. he didn’t know the deep love you held for that man.

he was excited to see that you were inviting the other agents. he felt special. as if him being married to a D.S.O agent would make him a better tech or get him a promotion.

it was so hard sending him that invitation. most of the other invitations were given in person unless the guests lived far away. you wondered if he would come, part of you hoped he did and the other part of you hoped he didn’t.

“it’s almost time,” you looked to your side to see your uncle standing in the doorway. you chose him to walk you down the aisle, he’s been here for you more than your father. he was there for your daddy-daughter dances, for your graduation. elementary, middle school, and high school.

you stood up from your chair, smoothing out your dress. your dress was itchy and heavy, the pins in your hair stabbed your scalp with every movement, your makeup felt heavy and cakey, and your heels hurt. everything felt wrong.

“are you ready?” you looked at your uncle, a smile on his face as he looked at you. that was when tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head, suddenly you were a little girl again, crying to him when you didn’t get a toy you wanted.

your uncle’s face contorted with worry as he rushed to your side.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

you sobbed, throwing your head down so your tears wouldn’t ruin your makeup. you grabbed the back of your chair, trying to find your words and your breath but it was hard with the corset constricting your every movement.

“i can’t do it, i can’t go out there-“

“of course you can,” he reached over for a few napkins as his hand rubbed up and down your back, “i know it’s stressing, this is your big day, and your life is going to change after this.”

you shook your head again, pursing your lips together to keep another sob from leaving your lips.

“but this is the day you’ve been waiting for, you’ve stressed yourself out enough. after this, you get to enjoy your honeymoon and your house.”

you looked up at him, blinking away another tear. he smiled at you, taking the napkin to blot away the tears. you couldn’t help but think, only if he knew.

only if he knew where your heart truly lies. who your soul calls to. what you did, more specifically who you did. you couldn’t tell him. it was too late to tell anyone. what were you supposed to say? i slept with another man. quite frankly, the only man i’ve ever loved.

you’d be burned at the stake, by everyone in the church. especially, your mother-in-law.

so you sucked in a deep breath and stood up straight.

“okay,” you croaked, and you held the napkin to your tears. you hoped he wasn’t here, you really did. you knew if you made eye contact with him somewhere in the crowd, you would break.

so you linked arms with your uncle, standing up straight and putting a smile on your face. your uncle smiled back at you, giving your arm a small squeeze. your feet were already beginning to hurt and the minute the piano started your limbs began to shake.

your nerves were on edge, your palms were sweaty and you could barely control your breathing. you walked out of the small room you used to get ready and into the main hall. there were photographers, gasping at the sight of you.

gorgeous dress that made you look like a princess, the fabric along with your veil trailed behind you, leaving a path of your essence. instantly, camera shutters were beginning to go off. you gave the photographers a nervous smile and wave as you stood in front of the two large doors.

you looked up at the roof, naked baby angels danced above you, they were holding harps and chasing each other with smiles on their faces. clouds surrounded them along with doves. hints of gold were seen in the paint.

it was beautiful. architectural and just pure with grace. even if the paint was fading and cracking, it was the most beautiful thing you've seen today.

your uncle knocked at the doors, signaling whoever was inside that you were ready. when the doors opened you were met with gasps and the sound of people rising from their seats. you made eye contact with a few people both from your family and his.

you watched as a few covered their mouths in shock, their facial expressions softening in awe. you smiled at a few, keeping your head forward most of the time. your fiancee stood at the end with a wide smile on his face. his friends were giving him firm pats on the shoulder, demonstrating their support.

you smiled at him, pursing your lips as you let your eyes wander. to your left, in the second row, seated in the very first seat…there he was. he came. your face dropped upon seeing him, your knees suddenly felt weak, and a large pain erupted in your chest.

he stood with his hands folded in front of him. his lips were agape, his jaw hanging loose. his eyebrows were upturned in awe. your steps slowed a bit as you got closer to him. you wanted to see him one last time before it was too late.

in his mind, he was standing there at that altar instead of that bearded man. he was watching you walk down the aisle and you were smiling at him. you looked beautiful. god, that color always suited you. your makeup and hair were done beautifully, he’s never seen you this way — all dolled up.

it put his heart to a complete stop. he couldn’t focus on anything but you. your eyes were stuck on him as you passed by. he watched your smile fade as you both made eye contact and he felt a stab in his chest. for a second, he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t blink. he was just frozen in time.

as you walked past him, your head fell to look at the ground. Leon too looked away, continuing to bite on the inside of his cheeks, this time he could taste blood. he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t watch this happen. he couldn’t. he couldn’t.

but he wanted to, today was special to you but it was the complete opposite to him.

he watched as you stood before your husband, a smile rising to your mouth as you gave him a small ‘hi’. Leon let his head drop to his lap, his leg was bouncing uncontrollably. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t be here.

he was about to look up at Chris to tell him he had to go but he was interrupted when Chris put his hand on Leon's knee. when he looked at Chris, he was looking ahead. a toothpick between his lips and his eyes stuck ahead on you and your future husband.

he knew Chris was trying to convey something, probably 'calm the fuck down,' but also some type of support.

Chris knew today was hard for Leon. with each passing day that the wedding got closer, Leon has been sulking and slacking off during training. his flask was his best friend and so was his bed.

Chris was the only one who knew how deep Leon’s love ran for you. Chris was there during the nights Leon would stumble around drunk and depressed. he gave Leon a hand when he was at his lowest. he helped Leon get rid of his addiction. he got Leon a therapist.

he did a lot for Leon when you two split, same for you. Chris was like the older brother you never had, he was supportive and kind. he was always understanding. you were able to confide in him comfortably. you could sob on his shoulder and use him as a punching bag instead of Leon.

Chris saw both of you at your lowest points and he brought both of you back.

he did so much to bring you two back together but here he is; watching one get married while the other watches with tears in his eyes. Leon kept his head down, unable to face you and watch the scenery before him. the priest prompted you two to begin your vows and he was first.

there was a nervous smile on his face as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. he unfolded the paper, his eyes flickering between you and the speech before him. he cleared his throat, facing the crowd.

“first and foremost, i want to thank everyone for being here; friends and family.” he cleared his throat once again, looking towards you. it made Leon’s stomach twist with jealousy as you smiled at him so lovingly. he also couldn’t stop admiring how beautiful you were. pure innocence and grace, well he knew you were far from innocent.

“and most of all my gorgeous wife-to-be,” your smile dropped into a simple lift of your lips. but slowly, you began to look around the crowd. your eyes landing on your family, your in-laws, and then Leon. from there, you stayed fixated on him.

you haven’t seen him so polished in so long. his suit was nicely tailored, sleek back with a white brooch. though his tie was crooked and he was chewing on the inside of his cheeks. his frantic leg bouncing stopped once he made eye contact with you. his body froze in a way, his breath caught in his throat.

he smiled at you, gently. the look in his eyes spoke for him, ‘you look beautiful,’ he said.

he tried to keep calm, for you. even though he was on the verge of a heart attack. even if he was terribly heart broken, he needed to be happy for you. today is your day.

you smiled back at him even wider, shying away from him with visible heat in your cheeks, ‘thank you,’ you said back, smoothing out the skirt of your dress. your fiancee’s speech fell on deaf ears, you were paying attention to everything else but him at the moment.

Leon sat right in your field of view. at the other side of the aisle, in the second row, towards the very end of the bench.

you sucked in a deep breath, your lips falling agape as you kept eye contact with him longer. suddenly, the feelings you wished to bury. the ones you’ve been trying to bury for years were coming back. it was like slowly drowning. you can see the surface still but as you sink deeper and deeper, it becomes blurry and you are forever trapped in the ocean beneath you.

his kisses, his touch, his love, his passion, his laugh, his smile, his hair, his teeth, his nose, the hair on his arms and legs, the scar on his shoulder, the mole on his neck — it was all coming back. he was coming back.

the happiness you felt when he would wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. the joy you felt walking into the kitchen to see him there making coffee, he hated coffee. he hated the feeling it left on your tongue. the bitter taste and the smell of your breath after taking a sip. he hated coffee but he still made it.

it made him feel like a normal person living in an apartment with his normal girlfriend.

the comfort you’d get when he’d hug you. the excitement you felt when he’d come home. the small things he did that aroused you to the point of insanity. the arguments…you even missed the petty arguments. arguments never lasted long. Leon hated arguing with you.

it would usually end up with him sleeping on the couch that night. then he’d wake up with a heavy weight on top of him. of course, it was you. or it would end up with him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you both in your shared bedroom together.

even if you two argued, you refused to be away from each other.

you were woken from your daydream by the wave of chuckles around the room. you joined in subconsciously, blinking your dry eyes and averting your attention away from Leon. meanwhile, he was gripping the pants of his suit with butterflies in his stomach. he couldn’t shake off this feeling.

the feeling of loss. the feeling that maybe it was too late.

your fiancee had finished his vows, folding up the paper and storing it back in his pocket. you looked up at you, a blush on his cheeks and sweat brimming at his forehead. you could see he was nervous, he was shaking — constantly rocking back and forth and itching at his beard.

you reached into your bra, pulling out your vows. you were so unprepared. you wrote your vows probably a few nights ago, drunk one too many drinks and elbow-deep in a bag of your favorite chips.

the minute you unfolded the paper, you knew you should’ve read it over.

‘To my beloved, Leon…’

you swallowed a lump in your throat, nervously looking between the paper, your fiancee, and Leon sitting in the crowd. you were drunk and wrote vows to the wrong man. no, it was to the right man. Leon was the right man. he always has been.

“um, to my beloved, future husband,” you began, your voice trembling and your throat aching. you read over the first line and you instantly felt tears swell up in your eyes, “i miss you, um,” your eyes flashed over to Leon.

“i miss you even if you’re right next to me. no words can summarize how much i love you, how much i burn and yearn for you every passing minute … every passing day.”

Leon felt his heart break into a million pieces right then and there. your eyes remained on him, only looking away to glance back down at your vows. were you … reading these to him? Leon swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyebrows upturning as he tried to hold himself together.

you were making up things as you went, your words completely different from what was really written down:

“i am glad to have you by my side,” i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

“i am blessed to wake up to you every morning and suck in a deep breath of your essence and your being,” i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

“i was broken when you found me but you pieced me back together, slowly and patiently,” you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

a tear slipped down your cheek, you were beginning to choke up the more and more you read. it was getting hard to make things up and say those instead of reading what you wrote down. a full page confessing your every feeling and thought to the right man … to Leon.

tears continued to fall.

‘i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i saw you, the emotions running through me i couldn’t comprehend. i wanted to run, i wanted to turn away because i knew if i approached you it would be bad. but my body made its way towards you anyway.

i love you. i always have and i always will. i wish i could hold you again. i wish i could go back. they say to never open the closed doors of your past. fuck not opening closed doors, your door never closed.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.’

‘do you still love me?’

his words rang in your head like an alarm. you were looking down at your paper, vision blurry with tears. you could feel the weight of your tears falling onto the sheet as you sat there in silence. a small sob left your lips as audible whispers rang throughout the room.

you folded the paper in half, shaking your head as you looked up at your fiancee.

“i’m sorry,” was all you said as you took a step back. your body moved before you could process anything. you ran down the steps, lifting the skirt of your dress with one hand while the other held your love letter with a vice grip.

you ran down the aisle, towards the large doors. your throat was on fire and as you burst through the wooden doors, you finally let out a singular sob.

everyone in the church stood and watched you run out, looking between you and your fiancee abandoned at the altar. the whispers became louder, and gasped erupted through the room. your fiancee stood at the altar looking at his feet, completely still.

his mother ran up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she threw a million questions towards him. he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the ground below him. he couldn't believe it and neither could anyone else.

Leon looked back from you running out the door towards Chris standing behind him. his face was painted with worry, his eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched together. Chris nodding his head towards the door, signaling Leon to go after you.

“go, she needs you,” Claire said from behind Chris. Leon nodded silently, a heavy breath leaving his lips as he ran after you.

he was second to burst through those doors after you. he looked right and left, panicking. what happened? what was wrong? he knew he shouldn’t have come. this was his fault. if he didn’t come, you would be running out of this church with your husband on your arm. not like this.

those vows. they weren’t for your husband. he knew that for sure. your eyes were stuck on his, he watched with agony as tears slipped past your pretty eyes and down your cheeks. god, he hated seeing you cry more than anything. he just wished he could scoop you up in his arms and coax them out of you gently.

a sign against the wall that read ‘garden’ caught his attention. the sign pointed to the left and Leon was quick to take after you.

he knew you well. he knew you loved gardens and flowers, always plucking them from the ground or from their bush and sticking them into Leon’s hair. you once mentioned to him how when you’re troubled you tend to turn to nature or your bed. you’d take walks, sit outside in the sun in silence. you’d brush your fingers against the soft petals and leaves.

your bed was nowhere in sight so he ran in the direction of the garden.

he made way down the steps into the garden, loosening the tie around his neck. he shut his mouth, listening to your voice over his beating heart and his heaving breaths. he could faintly hear sobs coming from his right. his head snapped in the direction of your cries, his heart breaking as he spotted your heels on the ground.

they most likely slipped off as you ran away. he sucked in one last deep breath, trudging through the grass of the church garden to pick up your heels. the garden was beautiful, tall bushes acting as walls to a makehsift maze.

white roses were planted everywhere. the grass was healthy and warm, tickling at his ankles. bees buzzed around the bushes, hopping from flower to flower. birds chirped in the trees, singing melancholic tunes on this beautiful afternoon. or pretty drastic afternoon.

as he walked further into the maze, he caught eye of you. your back was turned to him, you had sat down on a bench in the middle of the maze and in front of a marble statue. he stopped in his tracks, gulping down the lump in his throat which somehow made his presence clear to you.

you turned around surprised, eyes wide and a small gasp leaving your lips.

when you caught eye of him standing there, holding your heels with one hand and the other tucked in his pocket. you felt tears welling up again, though you hid it away with a dry laugh.

“how cliche huh? runaway bride.”

he didn’t answer, making his way closer and closer to you. he rounded around the bench, getting down on one knee in front of you. he took your right ankle into his hands, rubbing at your soft skin.

Leon tried to ignore the damp paper in your hands — your vows. he was curious, what did they really say?

he slipped on your heel, continuing to draw circles onto your skin.

you watched him, inhaling deep, trembling breaths and gripping the edge of the bench with all your might. the tension was thick, so thick to the point neither of you could breathe.

“say something,” you sighed out.

“i don’t know what to say,” he croaked out, his voice stuffy and hoarse. he took a hold of your other ankle, slipping on the last heel.

“say that i don’t know, i’m stupid. i’m an idiot. i embarassed myself, i-“ you cut yourself off with a heavy sigh, dropping your head into your lap. there was a moment of silence, leaving you two stuck in an oasis of tweeting birds, rustling trees, and buzzing bees.

“look at me-“

“no,”

“please, baby look at me,” he practically begged. butterflies arose in your stomach and you shut your eyes, hoping you could shut him out. hoping the noise in your head would stop, just hoping everything will quiet. “i need you to look at me.”

that was all it took. you slowly looked up from your lap and at him. once you met his gaze, you felt like you were that young girl again. that young girl walking down the street after a dinner date, eating froyo in freezing weather and talking about your dream house.

“you’re not an idiot, you’re not stupid, you’re perfect. you’re so perfect,” he sighed out. “why’d you run?”

you shook your head, “i couldn’t do it, Leon, i-“ you stopped yourself to suck in a deep breath, but it felt so constricted. your head was pounding, everything felt heavy and you were so dizzy. every thing was falling down. you felt like you couldn’t breathe or think, your head was spinning and your knuckles white.

you gripped at your chest, nervously playing with the pendant of your necklace but at the same time trying to tug it off. you felt like you were choking, your vision began to cloud with tears but at the same time you felt like you were losing consciousness.

“hey, hey,” he came to sit next to you, instantly wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest but still giving you room to breathe.

his fingers began to loosen the ribbons to your corset. his movements were stable and calm. “breathe with me ‘kay?" he soothed, "in and out, just how we always did,”

you nodded, gripping onto his suit, “in”

you shut your eyes and took a deep breath in. “good, what’s one thing you can taste?”

“um my lipstick,” you said, as you both exhaled.

“in,” he rubbed your back with one hand while the other held you firmly against him, “what are two things you can smell?”

his voice was getting deeper and quieter. slowly, your body began to relax. you could breathe again. you focused on your surroundings, naming off the first things you could. “the grass and…” you paused to let a deep breath out, “you.”

he wasn’t going to lie, your reply made his heart jump a little bit. he tightened his hold onto you, burying his nose into your hair. “in.”

as he took a deep breath in, he was bombarded with the smell of your shampoo and hairspray, “what are three things you can hear?”

“birds, wind and your heart beat,” you whispered to him as you let out another deep breath.

“in,” another deep breath in, “almost there, what are four things you can touch?” he could feel your body loosen up as you began to feel around him. your eyes were shut and your body began to go slack against him.

“your suit, the bench, and a button,” another deep breath out.

“good, almost there, in.” you were prepared for this one, pulling back from the hug just a bit so you could look around your surroundings. “what are five things you can see?”

you looked up at him, your breath hitching in your throat and your knees going weak. even if you were sitting down, you felt like jelly — as if you would melt right through this bench. you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out but a weak croak.

he whispered out your name, concerned. his eyebrows curling upwards and his eyes searching yours. the longer you stayed like this, looking into his eyes and breathing with him, the quieter it got. there was no more pounding and noise in your head. your dress didn’t feel itchy. the pins in your hair no longer stabbed at your scalp. the soles of your feet didn’t hurt.

it was all so peaceful. everything.

“i do,” you managed to croak out.

“what?”

“to answer your question,”

‘do you still love me?’

“i do, Leon, i do. more than you’ll ever know,”

you couldn’t read the look on his face, all you saw was a flurry of emotions. he searched your face for any hesitation or lie, anything to keep him from taking you away from here for good. something to stop him from being selfish and keeping you all to himself.

“i love you, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

To my beloved, Leon,

i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.

you’re my everything and you’ll continue to be for the rest of my life. i cannot breathe without you, i cannot think, i cannot function. my head is foggy. but when i see you it all becomes so clear. when i go to sleep at night and the thought of you crosses my mind i can’t help but smile.

i wish i still had that picture of you by my bed because it’s never enough to see you smiling in my head as i lay in the dark. the sheets are cold, this house is cold, my heart is cold. i need you Leon.

it’s too late to go back now. i can’t keep doing this to you. i’m sorry. i love you.

a heavy hand was draped over your waist, strong firm muscle pooling you into a brick wall of a chest. you smiled, placing your hand over the one on your stomach. light kisses were pressed to your neck and down to your shoulder. rough stubble tickling your smooth skin only prompting you to smile wider.

“good morning,” a hoarse voice spoke in your ear. you looked up at the clock on your nightstand, it read 12:16. you grumbled, turning over and burying your face into chest and muscle, draping your arms around his frame and intertwining your legs with his.

“it’s so early,” you whined, hiding away from the sun peeking through your balcony doors.

“baby, it’s noon.” more kisses were pressed to your face, slowly waking you up with each one. gentle and wet kisses, you smiled at the feeling, nuzzling your nose between his pectorals with a low groan.

“it’s time to get up,”

the sound of you faking a snore earned you a small chuckle, the chest you lay on bouncing up and down — shaking you awake a bit more. the hand on your back traveled further south, rubbing over the bare skin of your ass.

“i tire you out last night, huh?” he taunted, kissing over the love bites forming on your neck and shoulders. you nodded shamelessly, every single one of your limbs was sore and you could barely move an inch without wincing in pain.

“that’s unfair, you folded me like origami and you expect me not to be tired, let me sleep,”

“i'm sorry baby, but i’m not done,”

a smirk grew on your lips and all of a sudden the pain in your body was gone. you were flipped over onto your back, making you squeal out in surprise. you were met with a pair of blue eyes and a messy head of brown hair.

warm lips met yours in a heated frenzy of a kiss — full of flame and passion. you tangled your fingers into the head of messy brown hair, moaning deeply into the kiss. you lifted your legs and brought them up and around his waist.

you could feel his hard cock press against your inner thigh, a small groan left his lips at the contact and a needy moan left yours. his hand reached between your nude bodies, two fingers slotting in between your folds and a slow and languid pace.

the tips of his fingers found your clit, rubbing small and slow circles around the sore nub. your walls fluttered around nothing, craving his cock that throbbed against your thigh.

you failed to kiss him back as a small whine left your lips.

“so wet already,” he kissed your chin, “were you dreaming about me, baby?”

you couldn’t help but give him a large smile, “maybe,”

you watched a smile grow on his lips as he placed another deep kiss to yours. his fingers left your aching cunt, leaving you pleading for more. his hand glided up your thigh, making sure your legs were securely wrapped around him.

he pulled away from the kiss, kissing your nose and then the corner of your mouth.

“i love you,” he breathed out.

“i love you too…ah,” your voice faded away into a moan as he slowly thrust into you. a weak moan left your lips and your nails dug into the skin of his back. you were never used to the sheer size of him, even if he was given to you just a few hours ago here you are, gasping for air as you clench around him.

“so beautiful, taking me so good,” he praised with a small groan. his tip nudged against your cervix, practically knocking the air left in your lungs straight out. he kept a hand on your leg, keeping you as close to him as possible.

with each deep thrust, he watched your every facial expression, watching as your mouth dropped open into a moan and as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched your lips try and form words, the only words you could moan out was his name:

“Leon,” you whined, dragging your nails down his back. he winced at the pain but he reveled in it, the way you’d claw at his back as he’d pound into you was better than any pain ever conflicted upon him. or when your teeth would sink into his shoulder, muffling your whines and moans.

the image only saturated his need.

you could feel his cock twitch inside of you and his hips began to roll against yours. still plagued by sleep, you buried your head into his shoulder, whimpering with each thrust. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, locking your ankles around his waist to bring him closer.

you loved feeling his weight on top of you, keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, that way you had nowhere to run. not like you’d ever want to, the pleasure he gives you when he’s on top of you like this is inexplicable.

his arms underneath you, pulling you to his chest as he brought you up with him. both of your jaws dropped open, this new position allowing the tip of his cock to press further into you. you cupped his cheek, breathing in his heavy gasps as you slowly began to roll your hips down into him.

your breasts were pushed up against his, sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex filled the room. soft and gentle moans slipped past your lips, your hands grabbing at anything in reach; his shoulders, his face, his arms, just him.

“you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to look down at him. your lips met him in a frenzy, your cunt squelching the base of his cock as you rocked your hips against his faster — desperately chasing that high.

your stomach was burning with need, and every part of your body from your toes to your neck was on fire. you’ve never burned for someone like you do for him. his hips jolted up to meet yours and you gasped into his mouth which allowed him to slide his tongue against yours.

he was meeting you halfway with his thrusts, a gasp of pleasure leaving your mouth with every single one.

“fuck, it’s too much,” you whined as his lips traveled down your neck, biting down on your shoulder and your collarbones — he wanted to leave a mark.

“you can take it,” he heaved, “can’t you, baby?” he urged, as his teeth scraped against the plump of your breast. a shiver rolled up your spine at both the pain and pleasure, either way you nodded ecstatically.

“yes! i can take it,”

he smirked wider, his hips thrusting up faster. he watched as your tits bounced against his chest, your head rolling back which let your frizzy hair fall over your shoulders. his eyes were glued to the love bites decorating your body. the bruises and the redness growing on his skin.

the image of your body was now forever painted in his mind. your thighs wrapped around him as your hips ground down into his thrusts. your puffy cunt taking him so well, his cock sheathing inside of you and out again. your juices soaking the tuft of hair surrounding the base of his cock. your breasts bouncing and your ribs poking out.

“oh Leon, i’m so close-“ you whined, wrapping your arms around him. one of your hands running up the back of his neck and into his brown hair, the other wrapped around his shoulders with nails digging into his skin.

“let go for me, baby.” he egged you on, teetering close to his high as well. he screwed his eyes shut, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass, helping you meet his thrusts.

you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, muffling your loud moans into his skin. the sound of wet slapping skin only got louder, along with the sound of needy moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

the fog in your mind only got heavier and stars danced in your vision. your legs clamped around his waist as you came undone around his cock. stars danced behind your vision as you called out his name in a chant.

he wasn’t too far behind, biting down on your shoulder as he shot his seed deep inside of you. hot and thick, coating your gummy walls and painting you as his.

he continued pulling your hips down into his, slowly and carefully to help you ride out both of your highs. you slumped against him, completely worn out. all the soreness came back in a flash and your eyes felt heavy. but you smiled, draping your arms around his shoulders and allowing his softening cock to stay inside of you.

you turned your right, met with the bright light of the sun and the most beautiful view ever. the sun high in the sky shining down on a field of green grass. birds flew around in the distance, gliding in the wind and twirling in the air. you watched as they flew up and up until they were out of sight.

you pulled back from leaning on his shoulder, cupping his cheek and guiding him to look at you. his eyes peeled open slowly, his pupils contracting against the bright light he was exposed to before dilating again as he caught sight of you hovering above him.

he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling up at you.

“hi,”

you chuckled, “hi,”

he placed a deep kiss on your lips, sealing in the steamy morning you both shared. as he pulled away, he let his eyes stay shut for a moment, he wanted to mesmerize the feeling of your lips alone. he wanted to remember the feeling of your sticky body pressed to his. he wanted to remember the sound of your voice. he wanted to remember this moment. that way if he died tomorrow, he would be able to lay back and remember you.

“my body hurts,” you groaned, leaning back and taking him with you. as you both hit the mattress with a loud ‘puff’, he couldn’t help but smile.

“let me guess, you’re going to spend the whole time in bed,” he chuckled.

“what? i can’t enjoy my honeymoon? and my new house,” you smiled widely up at him. he cupped your cheek, smiling happily as he brushed your cheek. your smile faded as you nuzzled yourself into his palm, with a small sigh.

“you know, the moment i got home after that date with the froyo,” he began, licking over his dry lips. “i went home and began mapping out how your dream house would look,”

"really?" you smiled as you turned towards him, bunching the duvet up to your chin. he nodded and you gave him a small playful scoff, "and here i thought it was just a question,"

"well, it wasn't,"

your heart ached at the image of a young and blonde Leon sitting at his crowded desk, sketching out a house with the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his lip. you smiled at his confession, letting him plop down beside you as his arm wrapped around your waist to bring you against him.

“i was determined to make it happen,” he chuckled to himself, “i bought the property, hired construction workers, and interior designers. now that i think about it, i was so mean to them.”

you laughed at that, his story playing out in your head like a movie. you wondered how long it took and how much it all cost. though, he refused to tell you. he refused to tell you anything about the making of this house. you didn’t know about it until just a few weeks ago.

when he carried you out of the car bridal style with a blindfold around your eyes. he placed you onto the ground for a moment and you could hear the jingling of keys and the squeak of a door. when you stepped into the house it smelt stale, like wood and dust.

but when he took that blindfold off you were faced with something much better. you were face to face with your future — your dream. he mapped it out perfectly, just to your desires and nothing could ever be better. it was better than your dreams. so much better.

“the day of your uh other wedding,” he paused stifling a small nervous laugh as you giggled, “i was about to sell it. i was about to throw your dream away,” you frowned, both feeling guilty and saddened at the thought. he reached down under the covers, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“our dream…i was going to throw our dream away,” he laid his head down against the pillow, looking down at your hands as he ran his thumb over your delicate knuckles. “it wasn’t your fault, i just couldn’t stomach the thought of living or owning a house that was meant for you,”

“oh Leon,” you sighed.

“you didn’t know about the house, i never got to tell you and well it was too late to.”

you brought your joined hands to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles as you scooched closer to him. you didn’t go back to him because of the house, even if you did know about the house, you knew that you would have gone back to him for the sole purpose of being with him.

you could still be in that dainty old apartment and you’d be happy. you could be living in a studio apartment with him and you’d be happy. you could be living in a cardboard box with him and you’d be happy. as long as you were with him. home was where he was. Leon was home.

“the realtor convinced me not to, he told me a story similar to ours,” his other hand reached up, cupping your cheek and stroking the puffiness underneath your eyes.

“his story didn’t have a happy ending like ours but he told me, ‘it is never too late to be what you wanted to be.’” Leon sighed heavily, looking deep into your eyes. you looked at him attentively, eyes wide and eyelashes fluttering up at him. he smiled at you, finding the look on your face adorable, like a kid listening to a bedtime story.

“and well i wanted to be with you,”

your heart swelled with love and your features softened. you gave him a look of pure adoration, and every waking moment and every waking day you found yourself falling more and more deeply in love with him. from the moment you woke, to the moment you slept and into the dreams you inhabit, you loved him dearly.

your heart called for him in your strongest and weakest moments. your soul was tied to him and your every thought revolved around him.

Leon. Leon. Leon. he was all you knew and all you wanted. he was your dream, your prince charming, your fairytale. he was your everything. he held you in the palm of his hands and he didn’t even know it. from the moment you met and to this very moment now, laying in bed with limbs entangled — stealing kisses and whispering sweet nothing, you were his.

you wanted it to be him.

you wanted him to be your partner in crime. you wanted him to be your husband, your partner in life and death, the father to your children, the man you introduced to your parents, the man to give you his last name, the person you woke up to in the morning and fell asleep next to in the night, the sole owner of your heart and soul.

and now he is that. he is your partner in life and death, your husband, to father of your future children, the man you woke up to and fell asleep next to. he is that man.

“i’m glad it was you.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @child-chomper1 @porcelain-sea-shore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl @altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine @its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud @beafart (loved ur lil note btw! it made me laugh) @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie @bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

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author notes: MY GOD! pt. 2 is done and this shit is LONG! literally i did not need to write this much but i hope you guys enjoyed this one and tysm for filling out the taglist i was so surprised to see so many people wanted to be tagged in my work i thank each and every one of you ToT!!

also, summer is officially here for me so expect me to be active much more :D! - V!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #death island leon #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 6 #chris redfield #claire redfield

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vinyldreamsfuckup · 6 months ago

Note

Can you write a slash fic about him liking the reader and the whole group knows but he like denies ever liking her and says he would “never like her because she’s weird” and she overheard and starts to distance herself - slash is confused and notices that she isn’t talking to him much and tries not to get upset.

It isn’t until they were all hanging out at the whiskey and duff points out that the reader is being flirted with by some other guy - slash is mad and takes a couple drinks before deciding to pull her away from the guy because he was jealous. With smut involved :)

Thank you I hope this isn’t a lot and of course get to it when you can - I love your writing by the way :3

A: I love this idea so much omg. Also thank you so much 🥹🫶🏻 I really really hope I did this justice!! This is so long. I hope that’s okay🫣

Warnings: drinking, praise, slash x fem, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), semi-public sex, use of y/n once.

You were on your way to bring Slash lunch at Hell House. Guns had been working on their new album pretty constantly and you knew he would forget to eat if he wasn’t reminded. As you walked up the porch of the house you heard laughter. You paused for a second.

“Dude we all know you like her,” Axl said. His words were slightly slurred. He was probably drunk.

“No I don’t,” Slash laughed out.

“No you totally do. Admit it. You totally like y/n,” Izzy said. This caused your heart to jump. You? You had the biggest crush on Slash and you thought he liked you too but you had never talked about it. You were just friends.

“Guys come on,” Slash said chuckling a little.

“Admit it, seriously,” Steven chuckled.

“I don’t like her. Come on guys. She’s fucking weird you know that! I’d never like her like that. She’s just a friend,” Slash laughed out.

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You set the food on the floor in front of the door and quickly ran down the stairs. You ran until you couldn’t anymore. Weird? You didn’t think you were weird. Quirky maybe, but weird? You liked rock music and you were into nerdy things but you also worked at the Whiskey. Plus Slash was into nerdy things too! That’s what helped bond you guys. You were a great bartender and you were great with people. You had become such close friends with all the guys. How were you weird?

When you got home that night you just sat on your couch and drank some Jack Daniel’s. Slash’s words echoed in your head. You thought about all the times you and Slash had hung out. He never acted like anything was weird or like he didn’t enjoy hanging out with you. In fact you guys always watched movies and smoked joints together. He’d listen to your stories about the drunk people at work and you’d listen to his stories about new band drama or the most recent groupie who threw herself at him. He’d always say how much he’d wished they could just stay up all night and talk. How he’d never get tired of listening to you. The more you drank the more angry you got. Until the phone rang and pulled you away from your thoughts.

“Hello?” You slurred into the phone as you answered it.

“Hey,” Slash said on the other side. You froze for a second.

“What’s up?” You asked, trying not to sound quite as drunk as you were.

“I got the food you left. Why didn’t you come in and say hi?” Slash asked. You could hear him twirling the chord of the phone. Well shit. What do you say now?

“Um…I don’t know. You guys sounded busy thought it would be better not to bother you guys,” You cleared your throat then took another swig from the Jack Daniel’s bottle. That was a good enough excuse.

“You never bother us? What are you talking about?” Slash said, you heard rustling on the other side of the phone.

“Nothing. Hey. I’ll let you go. See you later,” you said and pulled the phone from your ear.

“Wait wha-“ Slash started but you hung up the phone. You walked into your bedroom took another long swig of Jack Daniel’s and then sat on your bed. What the fuck?

The whole next day Slash tried to call you to which you didn’t answer. That was until there was a loud knock at your door. You opened it wearing your oversized Motörhead t-shirt and jean shorts. Slash stood on the other side of the door. He was wearing a tight Led Zeppelin t-shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up and some leather pants. He had food in his hands and a horror movie.

“I have food. To repay you. Can I come in?” Slash asked as he walked into your apartment.

“What?” You asked looking at him.

“I brought you food. Oh and I brought that horror movie I was telling you about! The Omen. I think you’ll love it! Can we watch it?” Slash asked. He plopped down on your couch and waited for your answer. He set the food on the coffee table and started pulling out the Mexican food from the bags.

“You know. Now’s not really a good time,” You said carefully. You grabbed a bottle of Jack and took a swig. Slash’s words still echoed in your brain. He’d never like you. He’s just your friend.

Slash looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” You smiled tightly and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“You’re lying. I know something’s wrong. Why won’t you talk to me?” Slash asked. He walked to you and placed his hand on the counter next to you, “I know you. Why are you pushing me away?”

God why did he have to look at you like that? His brown eyes searched your face. He looked so confused and hurt. All you could think about were his words. How he said he’d never like you.

“I’m not. Believe it or not I do have a life outside of catering to you,” You pushed past him and walked toward you room.

Slash looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired. I have work so I’ll see you later okay?” You ushered Slash toward the door. He nodded slightly.

“Promise you’re okay?” Slash asked as he walked out the door.

“Yeah. Yeah I promise,” You smiled slightly.

“Rain check then?” Slash asked with a smile as his necklaces clanked together.

“Rain check,” You said with a tight smile and he walked back down the hallway.

The next night you went to work at the Whiskey. You wore your black lace corset and black leather pants. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail and you were wearing eyeliner, mascara and a deep red lipstick. Metallica was playing that night and you knew it would be a wild show. Whenever you had the more popular bands played it was a wild night. Metallica were definitely getting more and more popular and it was going to be a quite the show.

You were working behind the bar and helping customers when Kirk Hammett walked up to you. You finished helping the customer then turned your attention to him. Yeah. You definitely had a type.

“Hi,” you smiled, “what can I get for you?”

Kirk smiled his goofy smile at you, “Can I just get a beer please? And you can start a tab I’m in the band.”

You grabbed his card and started a tab for him, “bottle or draft?”

“Hmmm what do you have?” Kirk asked. He leaned forward resting his hands against the bar. He stared at you. You could feel your stomach turn excitedly.

“Um…Budweiser and Heineken are both bottle and draft. Then we have bud light and blue ribbon in bottles,” I smiled. He nodded and smiled.

“I’ll have a Heineken. Draft,” he smiled. You poured the glass of beer and set it in front him.

“And what about you? Are you available?” Kirk asked with a smile before taking a sip of his drink. The door opened and Slash walked in with Duff and Axl. You took a deep breath and looked back at Kirk.

“I am available,” you leaned forward slightly. He took another sip of his beer.

“Well thank god for that,” Kirk chuckled, “so why is that? A beautiful woman such as yourself should never have to be alone.”

You smiled and straightened, “A charmer? How tempting.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Why aren’t you talking to her?” Duff asked Slash.

“Well she’s barely talked to me. She kicked me out yesterday and said she had work, but she didn’t,” Slash said with a sigh.

“You think she likes you?” Duff asked with a small chuckle. Slash’s heart rate increased. He hoped you liked him.

“I don’t know,” Slash sighed.

“Maybe she’s not interested Slashy poo,” axl chuckled, “but she knows you totally are.”

“Dude shut up,” Slash leaned back in his seat.

“You’re into her. We can all see it. I don’t get why you won’t just admit it,” Duff said as he stood up, “I’m going to go get us drinks.”

Axl smiled, “No one is going to judge you if you like her. You two clearly get along. She clearly makes you happy. Plus she’s fucking hot.”

Slash looked at Axl, “She’s not like all the other girls though. You know? Like Erin and Adriana. They’re loose and hot and they come to all the shows. She’s different.”

“That’s a good thing man. You don’t want someone like Adriana,” Axl chuckled, “Like seriously you are much more of a one woman man.”

Slash nodded and looked at Axl, “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Dude we’re all rooting for you two to get together, no one’s going to give a fuck,” Axl laughed. Duff came back and set a glass of whiskey in front of Slash and a beer in front of Axl.

“Dude, she’s totally getting hit on over there,” Duff chuckled and pointed to where you and Kirk were talking and flirting.

Slash felt his blood boil and his heart rate increase, “why would that be happening?”

Duff shrugged, “I totally thought she was into you. Maybe she’s not.”

Slash's anger spiked. Why were you pulling away? Why had you kicked him out? Why were you flirting with someone else. He thought you guys liked each other. He looked over and saw you flirting with Kirk. Another bartender walked out and spoke to you before starting to help with customers. Slash stood up and knocked back his whole glass of whiskey before walking up to you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You went back to talking to Kirk as your coworker helped with other customers. You and Kirk were laughing and flirting when Slash's loud footsteps approached the bar. You straightened and looked at him.

“Hey. We need to talk,” Slash said to you. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"About wha-" You started.

"Now." Slash said sternly. You took a deep breath.

You looked over at Kirk, "Excuse me a second."

Kirk nodded and took another sip of his beer. You walked out from behind the bar and Slash grabbed your arm and pulled you to the backstage area. He pushed open one of the rooms and dragged you into it.

"Slash what are you-" You started before Slash cut you off again.

"What the fuck is going on?" Slash asked. He was angry now.

"What?" You said back fully confused.

"Why the fuck are you pulling away? And flirting with some guy at the bar? Why haven't you fucking talked to me?" Slash asked getting more and more worked up.

"Why the fuck do you care? It's not like I'm your girlfriend?" You nearly yelled back at him.

Slash was taken aback, "What?"

"Yeah. I'm too "weird" to deserve that title aren't I?" You barked out. Slash's face fell.

"No. No. Did you hear me say all that stuff the other day?" Slash asked worriedly. His hands found your waist.

"Don't back pedal now, Hudson. It's fine," You opened the door and started to walk out. He grabbed your arm and pulled you in close to him.

"Let me explain," He whispered, his mouth was inches from your now. He pushed the door closed and then pushed you against it. You looked up at him and took a deep breath.

"I'm in love with you. I thought it was obvious," Slash whispered. You felt heat pool in your abdomen, "I have loved you for months."

"Wh-why didn't you do anything?" You said shakily. Slash smiled.

"I like the chase," Slash grabbed your chin and tilted it up, "Now let me remind you why you shouldn't be flirting with other guys."

Slash started to kiss down your neck and chest and over your cleavage. He started to undo your leather pants and his hand slipped in, his fingers brushing firmly over your panties. You took a sharp inhale and he smiled. He pushed past your panties and started to rub his fingers against your clit. A long moan left your mouth.

"Fuck...you're so wet. Is all of this for me?" Slash asked with a smile. His mouth connected back with your neck and his fingers moved quickly.

"Oh god...Slash..." You moaned out. Your hand tangled into his hair. He groaned against your neck and dropped to his knees. He undid your Doc Martens and pulled them off before quickly pulling your leather pants and underwear off your legs. He lifted a leg and wrapped it around his shoulder.

"God look at you," His hot breath hit your cunt and you groaned, "You're so fucking hot."

His tongue dragged up the length of your folds and you moaned loudly, your hand tangling into his curls again. He moaned against you causing vibrations to rattle through your body. It felt so good. He felt so good.

"Fuck...Slash..." You moaned loudly. He smiled and let his tongue find your bundle of nerves. He added pressure and stuck a finger in a gasp fell from your mouth. He groaned against you and his fingers moved as he fucked you.

"Mmmm so tight," He mumbled against you cunt. He added another finger earning another long moan. His tongue moved against your clit and he curved his finger hitting your g-spot as he fucked you. The sound of wet skin and moans filled the room. You didn't even care if anyone heard you. It felt so good. You felt that familiar tightness in your abdomen.

"Oh my god...Slash...I'm close" You groaned. His fingers and tongue moved faster and harder earning louder and louder moans until you came all over his finger. He stood up and licked his fingers.

"God you taste so good," Slash mumbled. You reached for his belt and undid it quickly. He smiled down at you and pressed your lips together. You quickly unzipped his pants and let them pool around his ankles. He wasn't wearing any underwear. Perfect. Easy. He lifted you up and pressed you against the door before pushing into you in one thrust.

"Fuck Slash...you feel so good," You moaned out loudly. He smiled and started to rock against you roughly. Loud moans fell from both of your mouths as you moved.

"You're so good. Fuck...oh my god. So good," Slash groaned as he fucked you senseless, "Yes...You're so pretty. Letting me fuck you like this."

You moaned and connected your lips. Long moans and breaths fell into each other's mouth. He started to move more sloppily and harder.

"Slash...Fuck...Oh my god...I'm close," You groaned out. He nodded and groaned louder. His head fell back and he came loudly. You followed suit. Watching him cum was so erotic and intimate. He leaned his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

"I love you too,” you said breathlessly. He smiled and kissed you softly.

“Good,” He chuckled breathlessly.

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iwannakisskissyoureyesagain · 2 months ago

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more percy jackson headcanons, as a treat:

- will’s bi awakening was one of three things: harry styles in one direction (and he had an ipod with almost exclusively taylor swift and 1d songs downloaded on it, this totally isn’t me projecting), the baseball scene from twilight, or rodrick in diary of a wimpy kid (my boy has a type)

- inspired by the one at my school, the aphrodite cabin has a gender-affirming closet where campers can donate their clothes and trans campers can get new clothes for free

- will convinced chiron to give nico two hours of exemption from camp activities. the goal was for him to take a nap, but nico usually ends up tailing will around the infirmary or playing with/sorting his mythomagic cards on the floor of his cabin. will has long since given up trying to get nico to cooperate

- dionysus always knows which campers are queer, sometimes years before they come out. he was literally counting down the days until nico told him that he asked will to be his boyfriend

- percy has a list of every fact that annabeth has ever told him about architecture or historical monuments because he wants to memorize them all

- percy and thalia go thrifting together sometimes

- despite living in the lotus hotel and casino for like 70 years and being a huge mythomagic nerd, nico is notoriously terrible at card games no matter how many times dionysus tries to teach him. the only reason dionysus still plays with him is because he knows he’ll win, and chiron is unfortunately getting better at pinochle

- he’s scary good at most video and arcade games though. percy tried playing mario kart with him when he was home for christmas break. nico’s no longer allowed to play any video games at the jackson-blofis household for the sake of percy’s ego

- percy raised his dorm room bed and immediately had to lower it the next day because he fell out of it in the middle of the night. he’s never told annabeth because he’s too embarrassed

- the hunters of artemis have an entire horde of stray dogs that follow them around because reyna keeps adopting them

- bianca had a spice girls cd and an abba cd and would play them until they were too scratched up to keep playing. nico hated it. they’re still not really his taste in music, but he listens to them every now and then when he really misses her

- percy is neither an early bird nor a night owl. when he doesn’t have school or camp he doesn’t get up until ten, and he’s literally never seen the ball drop on new year’s eve

- the jackson-blofis family are the only mortals—besides rachel of course—allowed at camp. sally and paul always leave estelle with a babysitter (tyson) when the visit though, because they want to protect her from the mythological world as much as possible

- percy can’t carry a tune to save his life, but he’s started teaching himself guitar, and practices in the apollo cabin

- annabeth’s favorite snack is annie’s cheddar bunnies and she has a soft spot for country music

- piper and leo have matching friendship bracelets. they also have three-way ones with percy because he half-jokingly said he felt left out

- will smokes weed with drew on his (very rare) breaks from the infirmary because it helps his anxiety. they get it from the dionysus cabin and like to do it on the big house porch, but only when will’s sure nico isn’t over there because he doesn’t like the smell

- ganymede sneaks out in the middle of the night to visit percy while he’s at college, but when sally answers the door of their apartment instead, she invites him inside and the two of them talk over blue chocolate chip cookies until the sun rises and he has to return to olympus before zeus finds him missing. turns out the two of them (sadly) have a lot in common

pt. 1

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

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The Farmer's Daughter 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your father’s nurse, Heather, doesn’t arrive until after noon. Your mother spends much of the morning waiting on her, wondering if something happened. The woman with the steely hair explains that she had to drive from several towns over. It doesn’t matter, you’re just happy to have her there.

Your dad remains despondent. Your mother frets and hovers as Heather’s voice carries through the old farmhouse. She enunciates and projects as she speaks to the husk sitting in the recliner. Your mother paces and as you peek in on the nurse trying to guide your father in a simple exercise, your heart knots and nearly breaks.

You fell outside, proclaiming to your mother that you’ll check the hen house for eggs. She doesn’t argue even though you already did so that day. You tramp out onto the porch and clatter down the stairs. Things change so quickly.

In the distance, you watch the tractor drawing a straight line across the fields. You shield your eyes from the sun and squint. Timothy steers the smaller of the machines closer by. It should be your father out there. He doesn’t belong inside, he’s no type of man to be so still.

You sigh and muster your courage. You go back inside and find your mother standing at the door of the front room. She watches Heather and your dad. He mimics her clumsily as she shows him what to do. He’s shaky and gives up with a harrumph. He’s never been the one to surrender.

“It’ll be okay,” your mother whispers.

“Ma,” you rub her back, “we should start dinner. The day’s half gone.”

She sniffs and nods, “you’re right, honey.”

You walk silently to the kitchen and start on the evening meal. Her special sweet and sour meatballs. The sauce is a family recipe and she serves the signature dish on white rice. The work will keep you both distracted.

🌾

Your mother helps your father to the table as you go out to get your brother and Walter. You find Timothy with a cigarette between his lips. You scowl.

“Don’t let ma see,” you warn him.

“Sorry, I… it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, I know,” you utter dully. “Just don’t smoke by the door.”

You leave him, searching around in confusion. Where’s Walter? Did he leave already? He swore he’d stay for dinner and it’s all your mother talked about as you cooked. You know she’s avoiding mentioning what’s on all your minds.

You walk along the front of the house and turn the corner, nearly colliding with Walter as he comes around. You cry out and laugh at yourself as you touch your chest. He doesn’t flinch.

“Sorry–” You begin.

“My fault,” he insists, “was just making sure the tractor’s read for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Tomorrow?”

“Still lots to be done,” he says casually.

“Right,” you agree, “er, dinner’s ready.”

“You cooked?” He wonders.

“I helped,” you say as you turn and walk ahead of him.

“I saw you. With the chickens,” he follows at half a step. He’s like your very own shadow.

“You did?”

“Tractor stalled,” he supplies. “I think I figured it out though.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you reply awkwardly. You’re not used to him speaking so much. Not to you. “I made dessert tho–”

As you crane to speak over your shoulder, simultaneously lifting a foot to climb the porch steps, your toe hits the wood. You cry out and throw up your hands, bracing for impact. You don’t hit the rigid zigzag, instead caught around the waist as you hover just above them. His strength is effortless as he has you bound up in his thick arm.

Again, Walter saves you from catastrophe. He pulls you back and rights you, brushing against you as he unhooks his arm. He clears his throat and runs his hand down the front of his shirt.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, I…” you giggle and shake your head, “I’m so… all over the place right now. I’m sorry–”

“As long as you’re fine, no need to apologise,” he assures you.

“Ha, yeah,” you rub the back of your neck and look pointedly at the steps. You take each deliberately, “just needa watch where I’m going.”

He hums and trails after you. As you get to the door, he reaches around you to pull back the screen before you can. You thank him and go inside, stopping to slip off your flats as he unties his boots. The savoury scent of dinner draws you in.

You wait for him and lead him to the dining room. Your mother welcomes him in as she sits close to your father and feeds him. Timothy’s eyes flick back and forth between your parents and his plate fearfully.

“Pat,” Walter approaches the table with you, “Maddie,” he greets firmly, pulling out a chair. Before you can do the same, he gestures you into the seat before him.

“Oh, thanks…” you accept and sit down at your father’s other shoulder and Walter lowers himself into the next chair. You catch your mother’s gaze as she peeks over at you.

“Thank you for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure,” your mother insists, “really. You are helping us so much, dear. I can’t–” her voice crackles, “I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“Ma,” Timothy utters, embarrassment lining his tone.

“It’s the decent thing,” Walter says plainly.

“Would you like some meatballs?” You offer, “rice?”

“Please,” Walter nods and sits back as he watches you scoop a healthy serving of both onto his plate, “thank you.”

You recline and spoon out your own dinner. A lot less than his. You’re not very hungry. Your mom’s plate is barren as she focuses on your dad. Or you assume she does until you once more meet her eye. Her eyes drift over to Walter and back again.

“Very good,” Walter says after a bite.

“Oh, well, my daughter did all the hard work,” your mother preens.

Your furrow your brow at her lie. You are ever her helper. She told you what to fetch and to set the timer but she has to measure it all so precisely.

“Mmm, well, she was taught well, I’m sure,” Walter comments and shovels more into his mouth.

“I didn’t do that much,” you scoff as you slice into one of the large meatballs.

“Oh, of course you did, honey,” your mother chimes. “She’s a great cook, Walter, don’t let her fool you.”

You don’t argue. It isn’t the time and besides, it’s harmless. Just another distraction. She’s redirecting the attention so she doesn’t have to acknowledge the reality sitting right beside her. A few white lies are nothing compared to that.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #the farmer's daughter #night hunter

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incendiobrock · 9 months ago

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Boneyard Bash {JJ Maybank}

Summary: A twist to the boneyard scene where instead of JJ offering Sarah a drink, Rafe offers y/n one. This doesn’t sit well with bf JJ and a fight ensues but the gun is pulled on the wrong person.. ;)

Warnings: gun violence, language, physical fighting, drinking, smoking, slight mention of blood

-----------------------------------------------------

The past twenty-four hours consisted of a lot of concocting and illegal activities that you would rather not list out. You see, when John B, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and you run into a sunken ship, and the police won’t listen to you when you try to report it, matters are taken into your own hands. What started as a plan to figure out who’s Grady White sunk during hurricane Agatha- has turned into a money ring.

“Can we please take a break from the illegal, money scheming antics? We’ve been at it all day, and I’m still dead serious about getting caught, I can not lose my scholarship!” Pope spoke, eyeing each and everyone of you as you sat around on the porch of the chateau. Kiara quickly agreed, John B and JJ almost getting caught at the motel was enough for her.

“Either way is fine with me.” You stated, taking a hit from the joint that JJ had just rolled, blowing out the smoke and instantly feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You passed the joint back to your blonde boyfriend, allowing him to get a few hits of it as well.

“We could hit up the boneyard?” John B suggested, a quizzical expression playing on his face. He knew that his friends never passed on the idea of throwing a kegger.

“Now we’re talkin!” JJ cheered, his arm finding its way over your shoulders as you snatched the joint back from him. After your last hit you put out the bud, twisting the burning end into the wood of the porch, ultimately saving the rest for later. You all got up from your spots, heading over to the twinkie so you could pick up a couple kegs before heading to the abandoned part of the beach.

---

The drinks were starting to hit you after downing two, and sipping on a third. Your body swayed to the music playing as a fire slowly burned in the background. You and Kiara had been dancing for awhile, talking about all the things that you never spoke of with the three boys. You were thankful that Kie was there, she was the one that made sure you kept hold of a little bit of your sanity. Out of ear shot, JJ sat next to Pope on a piece of old driftwood that had been washed to shore. His eyes watched you as you let out a laugh in response to something Kiara must’ve said, pure bliss radiating off of you.

“Dude, you’re starring hardcore at y/n.” Pope chuckled, nudging his shoulder. JJ grinned, shaking his head a little as he looked down at his lap. He had a red solo cup in hand, also feeling the affects of all the beer he had consumed so far this night.

“I can’t help it Pope, I’m in love with her.” JJ responded, looking back up at you as the fire cast its light across your face, making you glow like a true goddess.

You glanced over your shoulder, blushing as you made eye contact with your boyfriend from across the way.

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the wanna be Pogue and the Pogue princess dancing around the fire on this fine evening.” A voice spoke from behind you. You felt your smile instantly leave, recognizing who the voice belonged to without having to even turn around.

“What do you want Rafe?” Kie asked, crossing her arms over her chest, sending death glares at the number one asshole in all of the OBX. Rafe scoffed, running a hand through his preppy, annoying, rich hair.

“I actually didn’t come over here for you, as if that’s any sort of shock-” He spat, a red solo cup sloshing around beer as he used his hands for emphasis. “-I really only came over here to offer y/n a drink.” He finished his sentence, extending the cup out to you.

“No thanks, I think I’m good.” You said rolling your eyes and turning your back towards the Kook. Despite you constantly trying to shut Rafe down, he would continue to talk to you any chance he got. All the Pogue’s had picked up that he had some sort of weird fascination with you, and it drove JJ mad. He hated that Rafe was constantly up your ass, despite the numerous times you told him you weren’t interested. JJ knew you could handle yourself, but it also just made him upset because you are his girl, and no one could get in the way of that.

“Oh come on... Where’s that little Pogue boyfriend of yours? Did he get himself thrown in jail yet?” Rafe pushed, causing you to turn back around.

“He’s right here you dipshit!” JJ yelled, quickly walking up to Rafe and punching him square in the face. You and Kiara both gasped, watching as Rafe almost instantly fought back. He took ahold of JJ’s shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grasp, and throwing his towards the sand. JJ fumbled slightly, his back hitting the ground relatively hard, but he managed to get back up and tackle Rafe to the ground as well.

“Rafe! Leave him alone!” You cried, watching as Rafe threw multiple punches at JJ’s face. He was lucky that he had been able to dodge a few of them. Before you knew it, John B, and Topper had joined in too. Each boy standing up for their respective friend but ultimately just creating a bigger fight.

Topper and JJ were now the ones who were throwing punches left and right, John B struggling to pull them apart from each other. You had almost had enough of all the fighting, storming towards the four boys, a little unsure of what your game plan was. “Hey! Stop it!” You yelled out again, watching as JJ had once again hit Topper, his nose now gushing blood. Rafe broke away from the boys, coming straight to you and pulling you against him to where your back was flat against his chest. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, your neck being trapped between the bend in his arm, keeping you snug against him. His right hand raised up, a cool touch of metal being placed against your temple.

Your body instantly froze, although you had never found yourself in this situation before, you weren’t stupid. Rafe had a gun. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had the chance to try and fight back, and now you sure as hell weren’t going to. Who knows whether Rafe would actually use the thing or not...

“Maybank! You better get your dirty Pogue hands off my friend! Or else!” Rafe said, the gun shaking against your temple as his voice rang out. JJ’s eyes immediately shooting over and seeing the tears forming in your eyes as Rafe’s gun was pressed flush against your head. Your hands were clutching onto the arm that Rafe was using to hold you in place, using him as support as your legs trembled beneath you.

“Let her go man! This doesn’t involve her!” John B said, coming closer to the two of you. Panic written across everyone’s face, even Topper seemed scared.

“Don’t come any closer! Tell them princess, if they come any closer I’ll shoot this gun right through your skull.” Your body shook, struggling to catch your breath as tears streamed down your face. Your eyes never lost sight of JJ’s as he stood and watched, trying to calculate his next move. Any alcohol in any of your systems was now long gone, feeling more sober by the second due to the severity of the situation at hand.

“Please- just let me go...” You chocked, begging Rafe to stop. You had seen him angry before, especially towards you guys, but never to this degree. You could tell he was enjoying it too as he chuckled to himself.

“Next time, maybe you should just be nice and accept my drink. That way we don’t have to end up in a little fight, alright princess?” He whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair. You gulped, nodding your head up and down, hoping that this would be the end of his threats. “Good.” He whispered again, releasing your body from his grip and removing the gun all in one motion. You landed on your hands and knees, gasping for more air.

JJ rushed to your aid, dropping down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands, causing you to look at him. “Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you baby?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly, tears now filling his icy blue eyes. You shook your head ‘no’, unable to form a sentence. JJ helped lift you into a sitting position, cradling you in his arms. He rocked you slightly, running a hand through your hair, trying to help you even out your breath.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, the tears finally breaking their seal and gliding down his face.

“I thought you were too.” You replied, letting out a strained chuckle. He smiled, relieved to hear your voice again. He took ahold of both of your hands, allowing you both to stand back up.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kiara said, coming to your opposite side, nodding towards John B and Pope. You both agreed, following her and the others back towards the twinkie. JJ held a firm grip around your waist, not ready to let you go again after what Rafe had almost done to you. You leaned into him, thankful that you hadn’t died.

Once all five of you were back in the twinkie, and you were laying against JJ’s chest, he spoke once more, “If he ever puts a hand on you again he’s dead.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #Outer Banks #obx

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pullhisteeth · 1 year ago

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hello, lovely! so so happy to see you writing again, you're really one of my fave writers here 🥹 if you want, would you mind writing a fluffy best friends to lovers one with eddie where he accidentally overhears nancy and robin talking about reader's feelings for him, and how the reader feels like she should just give up on her feelings towards eddie because it seems like a hopeless case lmao i'm sorry if it's too specific! ily ❤️

hi! I love you!!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I got stuck in the middle of it with no way out, so I scrapped it and started again. I hope you love it. thank you for the kindest message, you're a star xxx

contains some dubious eavesdropping and lots of fluff. somethin' suggestive towards the end but nothing huge. :-)

[3k (ish)]

“Hey, handsome.”

Eddie turns to the door. There you are, between the edge of it and the doorframe, socked feet on the step. You’ve got your hands behind your back and you want something.

He smiles at you softly and reaches his hand out without a word. He watches you return the smile and step down onto the porch and towards him. You lift your hand, take the lit cigarette from between his two fingers and lean on the post opposite him.

His eyes linger as you pull it between your lips and inhale, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing.

“You look nice today,” he tells you.

Your eyes open slowly as you turn your head to look at him. You bring the cigarette down and hold it out to him, twisting back towards the road to blow the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

As he takes it from you, you say, “Thanks.”

“New top?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“‘S’pretty. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” you say through another smile. This one’s sly, coy, a wall because he’s complimented you twice and that’s at least one time too many for you. He likes the way he can see how your cheeks warm and how you shift your weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting to stop yourself swooning.

You watch cars go by and listen to the distant sound of Robin’s laugh inside the house, passing the cigarette between the two of you until it’s nothing more than a butt. Eddie throws it onto the gravel at the foot of the porch steps, being gracious enough to save the Wheelers’ nicely varnished wood from being ruined by ash and a filter, and does his best to stomp it out without shoes on.

“Your sock’s gonna get wet,” you tell him.

“‘S’okay,” he says, hopping back up onto the porch and swaying about until he reaches the front door. “C’mon. There’s a mean game of Irish snap waiting for us in there.”

You hum again, only this time it’s a sadder sound. He feels the skip of his heart and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“‘M’gonna stay out here a minute. Need some air.”

“Oh,” he breathes. He takes half a step back towards you. “Okay. You want company?”

You shake your head and it rips something within him. It aches. “I’ll only be a second.”

The ache yawns open somewhere in his chest but he surrenders, returning to the door and leaving it ajar for you as he goes back inside. His mind stays with you as he moves through the house, eyes on his feet and the damp spot on the side of his left sock.

He passes the stairs and as he rounds the corner, he stops dead at the sound of your name.

His ears perk up like an animal and he moves, without thinking, so his back is against the wall.

“-And I get why she feels like that, you know?”

Robin’s pacing. He hears the soft thump of her fluffy slippers each time she takes another step on the carpet.

“She just…” Nancy sighs. “Surely she should try to tell him?”

“Nance, c’mon. You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”

“I just…”

“Nance.”

“He’s just… They’re so close, there’s probably so much we don’t see.”

“She tells us everything.”

Eddie catches his breathing getting heavier and stops, holding it at the hilt with lungs full of air. His hands are splayed across the wall behind him and he’s leaning with all his might, willing the floorboards beneath his feet to stay quiet just for a few moments more. His ears strain because to his right, Steve, Argyle and Jonathan are having some kind of cruelly-timed debate about pizza crusts in the kitchen.

“We can’t know that,” Nancy says. Eddie thinks she sounds sad; he can hear her mouth turning down in the shape of her words, and her fingers are drumming across the glass-topped coffee table, her anxious tell.

“We’ve known her long enough. And we’ve known him long enough. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“She just seemed so sad. I wish she’d try.”

“It’s not worth it,” Robin tells her, words short and frank. Her repetitive footsteps stop. “Clearly.”

Nancy hums.

“He’s hopeless,” Robin continues. “She’s been pining after him for what? A year?”

“More than that,” Nancy says quietly.

“Exactly! She deserves to be happy, we want her to be happy. So she has to-”

“Move on,” Nancy offers.

“Right.”

“But… We see him all the time. He’s our friend.”

“I guess we just… Help her through it,” Robin says. “Get Steve to set her up or something. Surely we know someone who’s far removed enough from Eddie?”

The colour has drained from Eddie’s face, seeping down his body and through his damp socks and into the floor. The hands keeping him steady on the wall are rendered useless, because he can feel them clamming up and slipping down the tasteless wallpaper the Wheelers have covered their hallway in. He slowly pushes himself up to stand and his head spins, the gaudy florals on the walls blurring to crisp bursts of colour.

What the fuck?

What the fuck did he just listen to?

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have listened; it was a private conversation, a private conversation about you. And yet he can’t bring himself to move, ears trained solely on the now-quieter mumblings between Nancy and Robin about how to cheer you up, and…

Andy.

Eddie’s stomach turns at the four letters as he hears Robin say them, louder than she’d been before, bright like a lightbulb.

Andy.

He lives down the street from Nancy, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and a mailbox Eddie probably knocked over at some point in his early teens. He has a good car - better than Steve’s, even - and wears ugly, pasty polo-neck sweaters and pristine tennis shoes. He probably plays tennis, Eddie thinks.

He’s everything Eddie knows your parents would love. Hell, he’s heard you complain more times than you should ever have had to about the sly comments your mother makes, the garden parties and barbecues you’re dragged to on hot Saturdays with the sole purpose of setting the two of you up.

“She hates him,” Eddie hears Nancy tell Robin flatly, their voices hushed again but just loud enough for him to do exactly what he knows he should not be doing.

“But he’s interested,” Robin whines.

“Only ‘cause her parents try so hard. He’s awful, Rob.”

“At least he’d try! I bet he’d take her to Enzo’s if we asked him to.”

“Rob,” Nancy hisses. “You can’t be serious.”

Eddie thought his stomach had dropped out of him a while ago, at the first mention of your name, but he’d been wrong, because he gets that awful sinking feeling once more when he hears the front door close.

In the seconds that follow, everything happens both incredibly quickly and painfully slowly, the way a car crash does, or watching someone fall. You round the corner, footsteps softening as you tread over the rug. Nancy and Robin’s hushed voices stop. Steve throws something at the bin in the kitchen. He misses. Argyle and Jonathan shout. You look up from watching your feet, and your eyes find him, wide and unsure. Eddie dies.

Well, whatever he’s feeling is what he imagines dying is like. There’s a cacophony of sensations and emotions bursting from within his body: firstly, there’s nerves, taking the form of butterflies the way they always do when he looks at you. They’re followed by a wave, though, of shame and, later, dread. He shouldn’t be here. He thinks you have worked out that he shouldn’t be here. He can hear Robin’s slippers again, only they’re getting closer this time, and then she’s at the door, right by his left ear. He can’t tear his eyes off you.

She calls your name, once in a tone so soft Eddie’s surprised it came from her mouth, and then again, only more confused.

He sees her in his peripheral vision as she leans her head around the doorframe and finds him with his back against the wall. She gasps, a quiet, wobbly noise, and then Nancy’s there, too.

You’re still standing a few paces from him, damp socks on the rug, looking at him with an expression that he cannot read.

“Eddie?” you call and he wants to die, he seriously wants to die. The world should swallow him whole for this, spit him out in the pits of Tartarus, let Cerberus have his way with him.

“Oh, god,” he hears Nancy say slowly from her spot beside Robin.

“Eddie,” you say again. “What’s wrong?”

Your face has crumpled into something between concern and remorse. Something unspoken hangs in the stuffy air of the hallway, broken only by the sounds of trash can basketball happening in the next room.

“Uh,” Robin drones, “We’ll, uh… We’re just gonna-” She slides out of the room, past Eddie, pulling Nancy with her by the wrist. “We’ll be in here,” she says, more to you than to him, an unspoken declaration that says come find us if you need us, before disappearing into the kitchen and closing the door.

He’s still looking at you, and you’re still looking at him. You’re about as pale as he feels as he stands upright again.

“What happened?” you ask him.

“I, uh… Fuck,” he stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the top of his nose. He catches your wince at the curse and the aggravated edge it comes out with. “Uh… Nance and Rob, they were… They mentioned you, I might have… Overheard a couple things.”

He looks away from you as he admits this, that wave of shame more akin to a tsunami now. He’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have listened.

But he did.

“I don’t…” You’re fiddling, fingers winding around fingers, standing before him looking more lost than ever. He chances a glance at you and your face is twisted in confusion. And then it relaxes, mouth agape, as realisation dawns.

“Oh.”

Warmth crawls up your neck. It spreads like wildfire behind your ears, across your scalp, over your cheeks. Everything is hot, the room’s too small, the air’s too close; more than anything, Eddie is too close.

He watches you fidget. You step forward, and your face drops again, wincing like you’re standing too close to a flame, so you step back and turn, moving away from him quicker than he can process. His call of your name falls on deaf ears and ends just as the front door shuts again.

He hears the shuffling of many feet behind the kitchen door but ignores it, pushing himself off the wall and through the hallway. The space is like water, the pressure pushing him down, keeping him from the fresh air - and you.

When he wrenches the front door open he’s hit first with the smell of rain, that hollow, metallic scent. And then it mixes with something like sorrow, and he feels it burrow into his bones, a deep-set melancholy he wants so desperately to fix.

You’re sitting on the porch steps, your back to him, hunched over with your head in your hands. The way your shoulders move gives you away; Eddie’s at your side quicker than he can think to breathe, touching you before really checking that you want that from him right now. It doesn’t seem to matter; you lean into him like always. You hiccup and sniffle, face pressed into his t-shirt without thought, and his arm sits around your shoulder and his fingers press into your shoulder.

“I’m here,” he says, unsteady. “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say into his chest. You lean back and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

Eddie’s brain is working too quickly for him to keep up with, but he manages to tell you it’s okay. “I’m not mad,” he says, thumb pressing into your jaw, the pads of his fingers on your neck, checking you over.

“I’m mad,” you choke. There’s the hint of a laugh there and he can’t help but return it.

“That’s allowed,” he says. He’s surprising himself with how quickly he’s turned into something solid and reassuring. “Want a do-over?”

You look at him and he aches again, his nose burning. You’re flushed and your eyes are pinker than usual, and as his eyes dance over your lips he sees they’re wet from crying and ripe for kisses.

They twist into a smile and he decides that, for now, that’s better.

“Eddie,” you breathe, coy. You nudge him softly in the stomach with your elbow. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he laughs. “I can leave you out here, if you want. Maybe Andy will come save you from m-”

Your elbow hits his lowest rib this time, with far more force than before, and the gasp he pulls from you is almost comical.

“Eddie,” you hiss, “they did not-”

“Oh, Rob would set you up in a heartbeat.”

You groan and let your forehead fall to his shoulder. And it’s here, where he’s enveloped in the smell of rain and the feeling of you, that he feels something open in his chest, and he speaks before he can stop himself.

“He’s better than me, anyway,” he says quietly, fingers carding through the ends of your hair. “You’re too good for me. Some other boy would be better.”

“Other boys are boring,” you tell him, leaning back. Your voice is small and you can’t meet his eye but it’s the truth; he’s blind to it, apparently, but Eddie Munson is the only boy who has ever interested you. He is the only boy who listens, the only boy who sees you, the only boy you have any desire to know inside and out. You’re not sure you ever will know him completely, but if you spend the rest of your life trying, you’ll be happy doing it.

His fingers dance through the space between the two of you until they find yours, toying with the loose threads of denim at the frayed hem of your jeans. His bigger hand takes yours and you still can’t look him in the damn eye. You’d find a smile if you did, though.

He squeezes your hand and touches your chin lightly with the other, pressing the side of his index finger to the underneath of it to bring your face level with his own.

“Look at me,” he whispers. You obey, because it’s Eddie, and he’s so close and you can smell his uncle’s washing powder and the stubborn stain of pot and you love him.

“We could go for pizza,” he says, just as soft. “How’s Enzo’s?”

“You don’t have t’go fancy on me,” you whisper back. “I like Benny’s more.”

A grin splits his face and you match it, giggling.

“My girl likes burgers, huh?”

“Y’know I do,” you say, squeezing back. “Your girl?”

“Gotta take you on a date first,” he says. “Do it properly.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like a gentleman.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

Your breaths are one and the same by now, your mouths so close together that your vacant space has become his. Your eyes move between his eyes and his lips and you catch his doing the same, and there’s an ache somewhere between your legs that makes you pull your thighs together.

He dips his head just enough, thumb pushing into your chin to pull you closer. You let your eyes shut and feel his lips over yours, slow and distant, before you lean into him. He kisses you sweet, his hand smoothing over your jaw to hold your face like it’s made of gold, and he moves against you with certainty.

He’s determined and as his tongue meets yours you bend into it, relenting. It’s magic, just as you’d imagined all these years.

He releases your hand and grabs your waist in his firm grip. It starts to get slovenly, your hips against his thigh, his tongue everywhere, and your head’s starting to spin.

“You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you say, panting, smiling, pulling back from him to look him in the eye again. He’s all browns, dark lashes and darker irises, never wavering from your sight. “Thought you had to take me on a date first.”

“You’re too pretty,” he says, kissing you gently at the corner of your mouth. His breath blooms across your skin as he speaks. “Got years of not kissin’ you to make up for.”

His fingers dig gently into your sides and you suck in a breath that’s half a giggle.

“Gotta get back at Rob and Nance,” you say as his mouth moves over your jaw and leaves a mark somewhere beneath your earlobe.

He hums and leans back, saying his goodbyes to your skin with one last peck to your cheek, just below your eye.

“I think we owe them,” he says. “I do, anyway. Was never gonna get my ass in gear. Coulda lost you to Andy.”

“Never,” you say without a beat.

“Never,” he says back.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #eddie munson requests #eddie munson request #eddie fic #eddie fanfic #eddie imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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vampmorgue · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐚𝐧

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

📖 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: 18+, she/her pronouns, pogue! reader, routeledge! reader, jj is readers ex boyfriend, some backstory, some fluff but lots of angst, dark themes, toxic relationship, trauma bond, love bombing, language, dark!rafe and him being toxic, mentions of drug use, addiction, abusive behavior, choking, smoking, weapon: gun use, violence, blood, fighting, and jj being protective of reader.

📑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 5.1k

🦇 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: if you or someone you know are in a similar situation, please don’t hesitate and ask for help. my dm’s are open if anyone needs to talk. ♡︎

©𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃: 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩/𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞.

You definitely had a type. JJ was your ex-boyfriend, and he was impulsive and would get into trouble but stayed caring, protective, and loving at the end of the day. He made you the happiest when he could. You two dated for a year after knowing each other for years growing up but broke it off due to the right person, wrong timing type of thing. You wanted JJ to focus on himself as he was losing himself for a while, and you were growing distant from each other but remained friends.

As your older brother, John B. got more involved with Sarah Cameron and brought her into the group, you soon heard about her older brother, Rafe, and the stories about him, and trouble always seemed to attract you.

From the day you saw Rafe Cameron, you were intrigued by his presence, but not as much as he was with yours.

You were a Pogue, something Rafe hated, but whenever Sarah brought you over, he didn't mind it as much, almost like it never mattered in the first place. You would notice the way Rafe would be eyeing you up and down, but not notice that he would be finding excuses to talk to Sarah just to see you in the same room, and then later at night, his mind would be going crazy over you.

When you first revealed your interest in Rafe to Kie, she scolded you like you had done something bad and told Sarah; Sarah didn’t mind it but did warn you that her older brother was not the best guy to be going after. When JJ found out about it, he was shocked and unhappy that you found interest in a Kook and was more unhappy you chose Rafe Cameron out of all people. JJ made it clear to you that he moved on from the break up to not come across as jealous or anything else and said you could do better than Rafe Cameron, along with everyone else agreeing.

"Look, I just think you should keep your options open, that's all." JJ comments, hoping your brother could at least convince you as well.

With your dad being gone, John B had stepped in to protect you as your older brother, and he hated the idea of you liking Rafe.

“Don’t you dare go to that Kook party where he is!” John B chases you out the front porch as you giggle, “Sarah! Back me up on this!”

“I’ve tried, John B!” Sarah scared to intervene, "The least we could do is watch over her at the party plus, we can have a little fun?"

"Fine," John B sighs at the idea, running his hands across his face.

You weren’t someone who liked listening to others about what they had to say, especially in your life. So as a result of that, during the party at Tannyhill, after a couple of shots, you went after Rafe, which caught him by surprise, but he liked it anyway.

“Y'know, I had my eye on you for a while,” Rafe smirks, drinking from his solo cup.

John B. saw the whole thing, which angered him, but at that point gave up. “I feel like I’m raising a rebellious teenager,"

“I think you’d be considered one as well, from the things you get involved in.” Sarah jokes.

From that day forward, Rafe had you wrapped around his finger. The more you started getting involved with him, the more your friends weren't liking it and made it known.

“Oh, god, you want to be like your brother and date a Kook now?” Pope asks, with JJ and Kie waiting for your response. "I mean, seriously, what is it with you Routledges' and Kooks these days.”

“You guys like Sarah now,” you mention, “so maybe you’ll like Rafe too.”

“Ha!” JJ scoffs, shaking his head.

“I doubt that Y/N but you do you.” Kie shrugs.

“Yeah, I will,

And you kept your word, but little did they know, Rafe had also persuaded you so you could be together.

"Listen, you and I were meant to cross paths," Rafe tells you in an optimistic tone, "so let them talk,"

Three months into your relationship with Rafe, he was the sweetest boyfriend, at first. From the dates to spoiling you, him making you feel like his whole world, and making it clear to everyone that you were his. The Pogues accepted your happiness but didn’t accept Rafe; they couldn't do it when they saw how he would treat other people. He was the complete opposite of his sister, Sarah.

Now six months into the relationship, you were aware of his addiction and had mentioned your concern about it to him before, but you didn’t want to be that kind of controlling girlfriend or anything. You also didn’t want to let your friends and brother know about it because you knew they would try to get you out of the relationship with him but you didn’t want that because you cared about Rafe. You let Rafe live his life and for a while, he got better after realizing how much he was scaring you, and the sight of coke making you uncomfortable. He would smoke weed instead, which you were completely fine with since you did the same.

But then Rafe would relapse as coke was more of his thing.

Your boyfriend soon revealed another side of himself on nights when you were with him, a darkening aura surrounding him as his eyes grew more hostile. You knew he was high by the size of his pupils, and how he was getting stressed out about the things going on in his life, especially with the pressure his father was putting on him. There would be times when he took out his anger on you by shouting at you or just snapping out of nowhere by throwing things around or punching walls. Every second of those bad nights was like torture so being with him started to drain you physically and mentally as time went on, you were now in his control of what you could wear, say, or do in front of him. Every morning, you’d wake up to an anxious feeling in your stomach because of Rafe, which could’ve been your sign to leave him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. It was moments like this, that made you rethink your life decisions if you had never broken up with JJ, would you be in this position? Were you longing for JJ or the right treatment that you weren't getting from Rafe? Unfortunately, you grew too attached to Rafe just like he was to you. You felt dependent on him, and you grew a fear of not being able to do anything without him or his approval but maybe one day the bond would break, right?

Every time you and Rafe argued, no one was around because Rafe wanted your relationship to look perfect to others, though it was the complete opposite, he always told you to put on a happy face.

You barely saw your friends anymore because of him not trusting them but Rafe barely trusted anyone, especially Pogues.

The Pogues were missing your company, so whenever your brother mentioned them coming over, you’d ask him if he could drive you over to Rafe’s or you would text Rafe to come get you because that’s how much afraid you were of your boyfriend; you were scared of him finding out somehow that you were in the presence of your ex JJ, though you weren’t doing anything wrong or planned on it. Whenever they’d ask about you, John B’s answer was always "Rafe", so they stopped asking but JJ thought that it was weird how the only time you were home was when everyone, except your brother, was gone, and if they slept over then you’d spend the night with Rafe— which he never said no to.

Even though your friends didn’t know the full story yet, they knew something was wrong when you were Rafe’s date to midsummers— you were the youngest in the group, so they all felt protective towards you, especially JJ. Though you looked beautiful, you didn’t look happy to be there, especially next to Rafe. They had tried to talk to you, but Rafe had his arm wrapped around your waist the whole night basically and kept giving death glares to your Pogue friends. When you made eye contact with JJ, he could tell in your eyes you had this sense of hope; he didn't know what it was but he tried to approach you because he knew in his gut something wasn’t right and said if Rafe started something then he'd finish it, but Kie convinced him to not cause a scene, and JJ was mad at John B for not looking out enough for you, his little sister.

“JJ! I’m not gonna go to fucking jail if something happened because if I did, then who's going to be looking after her, huh?!” John B argues.

“I would!” JJ responds.

“Man, why’d you guys even break up in the first place?!” your brother emphasizes, “I preferred her with you! Shit, I wouldn’t even have to be in this position!”

JJ stayed silent wondering the same thing as he hated remembering the fact that he lost you. As much as JJ didn't want to admit to himself, he still had feelings for you, and seeing you with Rafe was only making it worse.

John B just didn’t want trouble, especially at a Kooks' party knowing their power but he also didn't want you to be mad at him or give the silent treatment if a fight broke out; he also didn't want to risk losing you completely away from home more than you already were. Sarah tried to see if something was up, and you were always reassuring her that everything was fine, but it was all a lie, “See, Sarah, she’s fine.” Rafe would go on to say but that was before he took you into a room just to yell at you for causing attention like it was your fault, though it wasn't.

The day after midsummers, John B had finally confronted you about being so distant ever since you got with Rafe.

"You just don't hang out with us anymore or never make the time for it!" your brother emphasizes.

"I'm sorry! I just..." you hesitate, "really love him and love being around him. He makes me happy...ever since Dad's been gone-"

"Don't you dare bring Dad into this!" John B. hollers.

"Well, who else is going to love me now?!" you cry out, storming out of the house to see Rafe.

John B's eyes filled with loss as he was watching you slowly lose yourself.

Now tonight, Rafe had called you sounding like he wasn't in a good mood, he wanted to take you out after yelling at you the day before, so you accepted it, hoping he was changing for the better. He told you he needed to make a quick stop on the way, and that stop was to meet with Barry. You were annoyed with him and felt betrayed in a way when he fully knew you never wanted to be around his drug deals let alone being around Barry since he made you uncomfortable. Rafe didn’t listen and expected you to brush it off, but you didn’t.

“Rafe, you know I’m not comfortable with you being fucking coked out around me, or you buying from Barry in front of me," you tell him.

“Can you stop fucking nagging for once?” Rafe sighs, driving away from Barry’s.

“You know what? Just me drop off here,” you point to the side of the road, “I’m growing so tired of you.”

“Oh, you’re growing tired of me?” he scoffs, slamming hard on the breaks, “How do you think I feel with you haunting my every move?!”

“Me? You’re fucking unbelievable! You’re the one who controls every fucking thing I do! I barely see my friends because of you!” you snap, getting out of the car but Rafe quickly comes out to your side and forcefully puts his hand around your throat.

“That’s the last time you’ll ever raise your voice at me again.” he sternly states, “Now get in the fucking car.”

Rafe lets go as you gasp for air and start coughing. You get in the car knowing you couldn’t be walking alone in the dark not even knowing your way around, especially around Barry’s area. You were frozen and silent almost the entire car ride, trying to process what happened. You thought maybe if you jumped out of the car, you could run away and scream, you needed to get away, so you took your chances.

“No!” Rafe grabs your wrist while nearly swerving into an oncoming car, “Are you fucking insane?!”

He puts on the child lock before driving back to Tannyhill as if nothing happened. You felt helpless as you slowly walked behind him with his tall figure that now seemed like a monster in front of you as he led the way to his room.

“Y/N…you know that I love you, right?" Rafe asks calmly, closing the door but you stay silent.

“Come on, baby,” he says, pulling you into a hug, “I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? … Protect me from what?!” you spat, pushing him off of you, “You’re not doing that, all you’re doing is hurting me!”

“After everything I’ve done and given you so you wouldn’t live that Pogue lifestyle anymore, you dare to act like this? Tsk, tsk.” he shakes his head as it gets silent again.

“You really wanna know why I don’t let you see your Pogue friends?” Rafe chuckles in an unsettling tone, breaking the silence, “Because I know you used to date that blond Pogue…so how can I trust you around him, hm?”

You don’t say anything, instead, you stare down at the floor not wanting to look him in the eyes.

“That’s what I thought,” he nods seeming proud.

“It’s not something new,” you look up at him, “You fully knew that before you and I even got together, and you’re acting like I’m not a Pogue myself…but if you ever lay on hand on me again–”

Rafe gets in your face, “Or what?”

You push him out of your way to the bathroom. You’re on the verge of tears when you look in the mirror and see the bruises on your neck, he caused from choking you. You didn’t know what to do, whether to scream your lungs out due to your frustration or see if Sarah was home but you didn’t want to cause a scene; fear is what you felt.

Now you were at your breaking point and needed to leave, needed to leave him. You saw Rafe doing lines and he looks up at you, “If you don’t wanna see this then go hang out with Sarah or something, I don’t fucking know.”

“You’re right, I don’t wanna see this or you, I’m done.” you reply, leaving his room, “I’m done with you.”

“The fuck is what supposed to mean?” Rafe follows you downstairs.

“It means this fucking relationship is over, we’re over!” you shout in frustration.

As you made it outside, you heard Rafe scream and break something that he threw. At this point, you didn’t care you were walking outside alone, you knew your way around from Rafe’s home, and you just needed to get home away from him, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

You were glad to make it home and see the sight of your brother and Sarah asleep in the living room with a movie playing on the TV. You made your way to your room and cried yourself to sleep.

It was like a parallel between you and Sarah. You were a Pogue dating a Kook and Sarah was a Kook dating a Pogue, except now she was a Pogue. One relationship was toxic and the other healthy. Sarah is happier with John B than she was with Topper just like you were happier with JJ than you were with Rafe.

How could Rafe do that to you? Especially to someone he said he always loved but that wasn’t love. You knew that you had no love for him left in you, instead, it was hate.

꥟

The next day, you woke up to your neck feeling sore and you remembered why as you felt sick to your stomach.

Now how were you going to hide the bruises? Makeup could help but not in the hot weather. You decided to take a shower and think in there.

A hoodie. Yes, it was hot out, but you weren’t about to throw on a turtleneck so you thought pairing the hoodie with some shorts would make it look less odd, and it would be cooler by the time the sun sets. You had to tighten the strings of the hood so it would cover your neck better, and that was the best you could do.

“What time did you get home?” John B asks, making you jump, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You shrug, “Not too late, you were asleep when I came back.”

“I see…” he replies, “Listen, I’m sorry about last night–”

you interrupt him, “No, I’m sorry, I should’ve never stormed off like that or brought up Dad that way.”

“No, it’s okay,” he shakes his head, “I know you miss him too but we’ll be okay just like we always have.”

Some time passed, the sun was setting, and you saw Sarah out on the front porch.

“Hey, are you okay? I heard you and Rafe broke up,” Sarah asks with concern in her voice.

“Oh, you did?” John B joins in, “Finally!”

Sarah glares at him, telepathically telling him to shut up.

“Yeah, we did…” you confirm, “How’d you find that out that?”

“Well, I came home last night and saw a shattered flower vase on the floor and a hole in the wall, so I was like, what made Rafe mad this time?” she slightly chuckles.

“I guess he didn’t take it well, huh?” you assume with a small laugh.

“As far as I could tell," Sarah sighs, "I wouldn’t recommend going anywhere he might be.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Miss. I’m too good for you Pogues.” Pope appears.

“You know that’s not true, Pope.” you chuckle.

“I know, I’m just teasing,” he replies.

“Y/N!" Kie comes running to you, “Where have you been, you bitch!”

“Well, damn, it’s nice to see you too.” you joke as she squeezes you in her arms.

“I’m never letting you date another Kook again.” she declares and you agree to it.

You feel overwhelmed with emotions with all that’s going on, but it feels good to see everyone and then remember one was missing.

“Hey, where’s JJ?” you ask everyone.

John B points over to the water where you see JJ sitting by smoking a joint, so you decide to go talk to him.

“Hey, Jay,”

“Oh, hey,” he looks up at you and smiles, “you want a hit of this?

“Sure,” you reply, taking the joint.

“So,” JJ begins, “How come you were barely around?”

“If I’m being honest…” you hesitate, “Rafe is a…control freak in the worst way possible.”

JJ chuckles, “He looks like it,”

“I know, I should’ve noticed earlier.” you mention, "I'm sorry though, I never meant to hurt you and everyone else."

“No, you’re all good, you made it out though.” he gives you a comforting smile.

“Yeah, I’m glad that nightmare is over.” you sigh in relief.

“Why are you wearing a hoodie?” he asks out of curiosity, “I’m only asking because that’s rare for you on a day like this.”

“Why are you?” you ask back, pointing out the one he’s wearing.

He laughs, “Alright, you got me there.”

“It’s a nice hoodie though.” you compliment him, hoping he'd let you borrow it one day and he would.

“Thanks, you should wear it sometime.” he teases, “Too soon?

“You’re funny, JJ...but I wouldn't be opposed to it." you turn the other way, hiding the redness on your face.

"I'll keep that in mind then," JJ smirks, taking another hit of his joint.

You and JJ just always had that spark that would always come back, and you both loved that.

JJ knits his eyebrows, “What’s that on your neck?”

Your heart drops to your stomach when you remember. He saw the bruises since you turned your head, and you didn’t want to lie and say it was hickeys but you also knew you couldn’t use the good old burned yourself with a curling iron excuse.

“Oh,” you nervously laugh, “that’s from wrestling with my brother the other day.”

“Really?” he doesn’t buy it, “John B barely even hugs you.”

He must’ve paid good attention or had a good memory of your life because he was right.

“Damn, you didn’t have to call me out like that,” you respond, joking since it’s a way of coping.

“Well, I’m just saying and I don’t think he would hurt you like that.” he adds, “C’mon you can tell me.”

“Rafe…”

“What do you mean?”

“…we were arguing, and he didn’t like that I raised my voice at him but I was only defending myself until I couldn’t,” you answer.

JJ felt his blood pressure rise so high, but he stayed calm to comfort you as he pulled you into his arms and tossed the joint away. You remembered the times he held you in his arms when you were sad about something so that’s exactly what he was doing.

"Does John B know?' he asks.

"No,"

“Listen, it’s not your fault, none of it is.” he reassures, “Rafe has his issues to work with but that doesn’t mean he had the right to treat you like that. You don’t deserve that; you deserve way better than that and more.”

“Thank you, JJ,” you say, still in his arms. “I appreciate that, I needed it.”

“Of course,” he affirms, “I’m also sorry. I wish I tried harder to get you out of that, I knew something was up— we all did but everyone was just stuck on what to do without any proof, you know?”

“No, I don’t want you or anyone else blaming yourself.” you reassure, “I still have you all at the end of the day, and that’s the most important to me.”

“Yeah, me too.” he mentions, "We're going to have to tell your brother as well."

"Hm, I don't like the sound of that." you say, "But I know I have to."

"I know," JJ adds, "but I'll be by your side if that makes you more comfortable?"

"I'd like that!" you exclaim, and he smiles.

You two hear the sounds of a dirt bike.

“Did one of them take your bike out for a joyride or something?” you joke.

“I didn’t bring it today…Kie drove Pope and I out here.” JJ says with a confused expression.

Your heart drops once again, remembering who else you knew who owned a dirt bike.

“Fuck, this cannot be happening,” you mutter to yourself as you both got up.

“It’s okay, just stay behind me,” JJ tells you.

You both watch Rafe make his way to your brother and the others.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sarah calls out to him.

“Taking back what’s mine,” Rafe responds before looking around, “tell me where she is, and nothing happens.”

“Dude, get the fuck out of here.” John B warns him as he gets closer, “I don’t need any more of your bullshit right now.”

“Seriously, you’re crazy,” Sarah tells Rafe, “Just go back home.”

“Or what?” Rafe lets out a small laugh.

You were holding onto JJ’s arm, and you could tell JJ was getting angry just by Rafe's presence but unluckily, Rafe spotted you and JJ.

“Well, would you look at that!” Rafe calls out, “You see, Y/N? I knew you’d go back to that Pogue! You’re just a fucking slut!”

“Alright, fuck it,” JJ pulls out his gun from the pocket of his hoodie and points it at Rafe.

“JJ!” everyone but Rafe shouts.

Rafe had pulled his gun out as well and John B yelled at you to get down, so you did.

“You really wanna do this, man?” Rafe questions JJ.

JJ shrugs, “If it keeps you dead then yeah.”

“Not unless you’re the dead one first,” Rafe states, slowly moving his finger to the trigger.

You began shaking while John B motioned for you and JJ to stay quiet as he slowly made his way to Rafe and pushed him down to the ground. Shots were fired at the sky before Sarah grabbed Rafe’s gun and threw it into the water.

JJ made sure you weren’t shot or anything before he went to help your brother as Rafe was strangling him, and JJ pulled Rafe off of John B and took matters into his own hands. JJ threw punches at Rafe, but he fought back then JJ pressed his fingers into Rafe's eyes before he started to punch him again to the point of blood running down Rafe's face then JJ began strangling him back to feel what you felt the night he choked you.

John B and Pope pulled JJ off of Rafe this time while Sarah and Kie told you to go hide inside the house.

Your brother told JJ to take you somewhere far from there while they would handle Rafe, and JJ didn't hesitate and kicked Rafe in the stomach before doing so. Kie would’ve let him take the car, but it was her dad’s truck, and she wasn’t going to risk getting in trouble so he thought of taking Rafe’s bike as it added a little more taste of revenge.

After a couple of minutes, the commotion started calming down. You hated every second of it, you hated people yelling at each other, and you hated any type of fighting. You were feeling numb, all of it was happening too fast.

JJ came in, "We gotta go right now."

“Run!" you heard Kie shout as you both saw Rafe making his way towards you and JJ, who quickly grabbed your hand as you both ran towards the dirt bike.

You don't remember the last time you rode with JJ but this time, the wind hitting your face felt so freeing. An aura of colors felt like they were going inside your body as JJ sped up to where he was taking you. You took notice of the state his knuckles were in, all bloody.

Within fifteen minutes, you both arrived near a small hidden shed near the woods. It intimated you to go in the woods with how dark it was, but JJ reassured you it was fine.

“How’d you find this place?” you ask him.

“Well,” he begins, “when I wanted to get away from my dad, I would hide here if I had nowhere else to go."

You nodded at his response, not knowing what to say as if you two didn’t go through chaos moments ago.

“This is also where John B and I first smoked weed together.” JJ laughs at the memory.

"I'm assuming this is where he would sneak off to then," you mention.

"For sure," JJ replies.

"I'm honestly worried right now for my brother and the others," you admit, "anything could have happened over there."

"The worst that could've happened is someone getting shot, but they got rid of it."

"That someone could've been you!" you cry out, "Rafe was pointing it at you."

JJ looks away for a second, rethinking the whole occurrence.

"I was just trying to protect you..." he responds, "I couldn't risk losing you again if he had taken you or not,"

From that moment, you realized that the right one was always JJ. You both just needed the time to figure out the things in yourselves and what your heart truly desired and JJ had already done that; his heart desired you.

"And you did it, Jay," you reassure, feeling like your heart was screaming at you to spill out your true feelings, "just like you always have, it's you who I can always count on, and you've proven that."

JJ stares into your eyes, "What are you trying to say?"

"It's you who makes me feel safe and cared about, no matter what situation we're both in, you don't give up, and you're always there...it's you who I want."

JJ grabs your face, kissing you like he had been waiting to do that. You both missed this. His affection towards you always made you feel special, and you're the only person he's still ever wanted.

He pulls away, "You didn't have to tell me twice...I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," you smile, holding his hands that were still grabbing your face.

"So!" John B calls out with Sarah next to him who gives you a teasing smile, startling you, "It's a good thing I checked here first and yes, everything's taken care of."

"That's great man," JJ comments, acting like John B didn't catch you two in the middle of something.

John B pulls you into a hug when he sees your bruises and apologizes for what you went through. "From now on, promise me I'll be one of your first options to come if there's trouble."

"I promise,"

"I also just wanted to let you know, don't worry about him," Sarah refers to Rafe, "I got it taken care of and he's got other things to worry about so you're going to be okay."

Sarah had taken advantage of being her father's favorite so she just called him and took her side when she told him about Rafe's actions.

"Thank you, Sarah." you smile.

"So, you guys want to get out of here and do some illegal shit or?" John B asks, lightening the mood, "Pope and Kie are waiting in the Twinkie."

"Let's go!" JJ exclaims, "Lead the way, John B."

While everyone else gets in the Twinkie, you and JJ still go on the dirt bike with him now being the proud owner of two dirt bikes.

"Hey, listen," JJ looks back at you, "I know you just went through a lot, so I just wanted to let you know that there's no rush in anything between us, I'll always be by your side every step of the way and I'll be here when you're ready."

You smile and kiss him on the cheek, "Thank you, JJ, I'm glad to have you in my life."

JJ smiles and speeds off as you're hugging his waist, holding on tight but JJ was loving every second of it, happy to have you back in his life as well.

668 notes · View notes

whlfchn · 2 years ago

Text

kitten ~ lee know

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

word count: 3.8k

rating: 18+!!!

genre: smut, consensual hate sex, dom!lee know

synopsis: you two never got along and would always push each others buttons which normally would drive one another mad with rage... so why cant you simply walk away this time? why do you hate each other almost as much as you want each other?

warnings: degradation, words like whore and slut are used, some nipple play, oral (fem! and male! receiving), rough sex, slight spanking, choking, very little bondage, orgasm denial, mature language, hate sex

authors note: this is my first attempt at writing hate sex! I usually write fluffy smut, but I wanted to challenge myself and write some rough sex that still had some good backstory. I might make this into a friends with benefit series or enemies to lovers in the future, but im not sure yet haha

!my content is not suitable for minors! 18+ only! by reading more you consent to being 18+ and to nsfw content and take all responsibility!

Your warm body is leaning on the cold backyard railing as your thoughts are drowned out by the loud music. Finding yourself fading into the background as you sit back and observe. Tonight you found yourself getting dragged into attending a stupid college party.

You were never one to attend such events, but your best friend was a socialite and finally managed to drag you away from your solitude and to a party.

You were polar opposites. She was funny, beautiful, positive, and got along with everyone. Not to be cocky, but you were very good looking as well. On the other hand you weren't as social and liked to keep to yourself. Your main focus was school and your career. Not finding the time and energy for things that didn't contribute to your needs.

You were a junior in college. A dance major to be exact. At a very young age you learned the hardships of life and didn't feel like you fit in anywhere. It wasn't until one day that you went with your family to this annual festival you heard so much about. There were many attractions, but the dance performances are what altered your life. You had never seen something as breathtaking as what you witnessed that day. The way that each movement melted into each other. Graceful yet powerful movements to each beat. The way that each dancer interpreted the song differently and how they told a story with their bodies. At that very young age, you saw those performances and knew who and what you wanted to be.

You met your best friend in middle school. You were both attending the same school and dance classes. Fate you would say. She came at a time of need. A lot of people had let you down, but no matter your differences she never gave up on you and has always been there for you. She was your one and only true friend even after all these years.

Unluckily for you, she was just as stubborn as you could be and managed to drag you to a party tonight. You liked to have fun from time to time, but midterms were coming up so you've been at your dorm studying and at the dance studio non stop. It took all day for your best friend to convince you to tag along.

So here you were, alone on the backyard porch watching your best friend take shot after shot having the time of her life. You had a few drinks earlier in the night and were tipsy but nowhere near drunk.

Leaning against the railing you dig into your purse and pull out your box of cigarettes. Taking one out and putting the tip in your mouth.

“Smoking is a terrible habit for a dancer kitten.”

“Fuck off and leave me alone,” you muttered while digging into your purse to find your lighter.

You knew that voice and nickname all too well. It was none other than the “legendary” Lee Know. The senior that everyone talked about. There was no denying he was an amazing dancer and sculpted by the gods, but it was his personality you found to be quite sour.

A hand and lighter came into your view. Too tired to find your own lighter you inhale and allow him to light it for you. Nicotine and smoke soon fill your lungs. As you take the cigarette out of your mouth smoke slowly slips from your lips.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him light his own cigarette.

“I thought smoking was a terrible habit for dancers?”

“It is.”

You scoff at his short and blunt response. You two never got along. Both fueled by rage from each other's presence.

He was in a dance crew that consisted of a couple of your classmates. Stray Kids is what they called themselves. Freshman and sophomore year you had heard a lot about him from the girls in school. Mostly about his visuals and bad boy reputation, but that never intrigued you. It was his dancing that drew you in. You first laid your eyes on him at your freshman school orientation. All the departments had performances lined up for the incoming freshmen. The dance department had lots of performances, but he stood out from the rest. Everyone was amazed by his looks, but for you it was the way he moved, the way he hit every beat, and the way he lost himself to the music.

Your best friend was friends with what felt like the whole world and often dragged you to hang out with them. On this particular day it was the beginning of your junior year and you were told by your bestie that you would be hanging out with the boys in your major. Those boys were a part of the group called Stray Kids. You also heard Lee Know would be tagging along. This excited you since you would finally be able to meet the man you heard so much about and admired the first two years of college. Although you didn't know him personally you looked up to him as he was hands down one of the best dancers you laid your eyes on. But as the saying goes, never meet your heroes!

All the boys seemed cool and chill, except for the man, the myth and the legend Lee Know. He was cold and cocky from day one and picked on you any chance he got. You had no clue what you did to get on this man's bad side, but the feeling of disappointment and anger fueled you anytime you laid your eyes on him. Reminding you that solitude was all you ever needed. With the exception of your best friend of course.

“You look… different,” he says, eyes trailing up and down your frame. Body covered in a short black dress that complimented your shape.

You choose to ignore him and take more drags from your cigarette.

“Looks like your friend is drunk as fuck,”

“So are yours,” you say, looking over to his friend group that are the loudest in the party.

He laughs and leans on his side to face you. You sigh and do the same to finally get a good look at the man disturbing your peace.

Your eyes scan him up and down. There was no denying this man was heaven sent. He was extremely good looking. It made you feel sick how someone could be so hot, but such a pain in the ass. He was wearing all black. Black cargos that adorned his thick thighs nicely with a black leather belt holding them up. A black shirt tucked in with a zipper in the middle going all the way down. Open halfway showing part of his chest and drawing attention to the black choker he had on.

“Like what you see kitten?”

“Fuck you”

“Right now?, In front of all these people?” he says, smirking and lifting a brow cockily.

“Look kitten, thanks for the offer, but I'm not that bored and you're not that lucky,” he chuckles, taking another drag from his cigarette.

All you could do was look at him dumbfounded and laugh at the words that just left his mouth.

“Tch… as if I would offer you such a great time. Trust me, you can't handle me,” you say, smirking back at the man that looks taken aback by what you said.

Not one word is said back. You take this as your cue to finally get away from him and be on your way now that you're done with your cigarette and would like some peace before this ends in another huge argument if continued. You start walking away, but you barely make it a few steps before he speaks up.

“I can handle you,” he says, voice low, barely audible.

You stop in your tracks, you slowly turn around and raise your eyebrow.

“You? Handling me? Well from what I hear, you wouldn't be any good at it and I have standards,” you chuckle in disbelief.

He quickly flicks his cigarette to the ground and stomps on it before making his way to you. Stopping only inches away from you. He grabs your face aggressively and looks into your eyes with such rage and a dark aura surrounding him. Tensions rising, air getting denser, and your body growing hotter by the second. He slowly brings his mouth next to your ear.

“You say a lot of mean things kitten. Why don't we put that pretty mouth of yours to better use?,” he whispers.

Fuck it. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, the warmth from the cigarette, or honestly how long it's been since you’ve had sex. But maybe fucking the guy that hates you as much as you hate him will satisfy you both. Using him for your sexual pleasure didn't sound so bad.

“If you insist”

“What?,” he says, eyes widening in disbelief.

You get out of his grasp and turn around and walk towards the door on the porch that leads into the house. Hand hovering over the doorknob as you turn around and find him in the same spot staring at you.

“Are you coming or not? I can always ask that hot friend of yours. Chan was his name right? He probably knows how to satisfy a girl better than you ever have” you say, acting all innocent. You could swear his eyes turned even darker as he finally started moving in your direction.

You giggle at how easy it was to get him riled up. Quickly turning the doorknob and entering the house, heading upstairs. Footsteps following closely behind you. As you reach the second floor you slow down and look around trying to find which room you should pick.

“This room,” he says, turning the handle and entering with such ease. Flipping on the switch as you follow behind.

The light illuminates the wide, almost empty space. A king sized bed centered with a couch on the opposite wall. One dresser and one desk adorning small details. Balcony doors on the opposite end of the room.

Lee Know walked straight to the desk grabbing a bottle of alcohol, two cups, and started pouring drinks. You close and lock the door behind you and walk in his direction.

“Stealing alcohol? Are you always such an inconsiderate asshole? I don’t even know whose house we are in,” you say, reaching the desk and leaning against it, crossing your arms watching his every movement. He slides a glass of alcohol over to you and brings his own up to his pink lips taking a long sip staring into your eyes from above the rim.

“No need to be such a brat. Just shut up and drink. I know the owners,” he scoffs, taking another big sip, mimicking your position, and leaning against the desk only inches away from you. You take the glass he slid over and take a sip. Feeling the much needed warmth and burning down your throat.

“And who would that be?,” you say, taking another sip.

“My parents,” he says casually, causing you mid-sip to choke and start coughing, taken aback by his blunt response and revelation.

“Already choking kitten? We haven't even started”

Fed up with his little comments, you quickly chug the rest of your drink forgetting about the revelation that this was his house and slam the cup on the table before looking at him with such irritation.

“Not even fucking close, but why don't you come over here and make me? Or I'll just call Chan over and let him handle what you never could”

His eyes widened and mouth twitched in rage. In a split second he slammed his own cup down on the table and next thing you know his lips are on yours. His hands roughly grab at your ass as yours quickly find their way to his hair. Nails digging into his hair and pulling on his locks.

Kissing hard, teeth clicking, tongues rolling over each other and fighting for dominance. You break the kiss and bite his bottom lip tugging on it harshly, almost breaking the flesh. He crushes his lips back on yours in an instant and harshly grabs both thighs and lifts you onto the desk in front of him.

One hand harshly landing on your neck choking you in just the right spot while the other lands on your inner thigh shoving it further open. The cold breeze felt on your now wet panties that were on full display. Dress riding up, legs wide open, all for the man you hate but want to fulfill all your fantasies.

“Tch, little fucking slut, letting me see you like this, so desperate for my touch.” he says, hand tightening on your neck as the other goes to grab your hair harshly making you look up at him in the eyes.

You laugh and bite your lip staring right back at him.

“You're all bark and no bite”

“Trust me kitten, I know how to bite, but the question is can you handle it?”

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me already” you say, growing even more frustrated, just wanting release.

You thought his stare couldn't grow any darker but god were you wrong. He quickly takes his hands out of your hair and off your neck and grabs you roughly by the thighs as your hands go on his shoulder and he walks you over to the bed and then throws you on it.

Now on your back leaning up on your arms as your legs are spread open for the man in front of you. He slowly takes off his belt and sets it down next to your leg. He then proceeds to slowly zip down his shirt revealing abs and a hot scar you didn't know he had. Hands going to his zipper but stopping in its tracks when he looks at you and tilts his head.

“Be a good girl and take off your clothes right now kitten,” he says coldly.

“Why don't you come over here and make me?”

He quickly hovers over you grabbing you by the face, fingers tracing your swollen lips harshly.

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god,” he mutters.

“Or what? What are you going to do? Don't threaten me with a good time,”

“You're in trouble now,” he says before grabbing the bottom of your dress and raking it up your body with so much force you swore it ripped before he flung it across the room leaving you in your lace set.

“Look at you all dolled up. Such a fucking whore. Just waiting for someone to fuck you senseless so you can shut that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he says cupping your wet cunt. A moan leaving your mouth instantly.

He starts kissing and biting on your neck marking you up. Leaving sloppy kisses all the way down to your breasts. Kissing and sucking your hardened nipples through the thin material of your lace bra. Hands slipping under your back as you lift yourself and it's off in no time. His tongue nipping and biting your nipple as the other hand twists and squeezes on the other causing intoxicating pain that you wanted more of. It hurt so bad, but felt so good. Moans leaving your lips as he starts to divert his attention further downwards to your throbbing cunt.

Teeth pulling down the lacy material leaving you completely bare. You barely have time to think as fingers are buried inside of you.

“Fuck.”

He starts pumping in and out curving his fingers filling you up. His tongue soon meets your clit, flicking the sensitive flesh rapidly. His other hand is making its way to your throat and squeezing tightly. He nibbles on your flesh between licks leaving you a cursing and moaning mess. Lee Know going at a brutal pace as his hand is tight on your throat making you feel light headed and dizzy. Drunk off this feeling alone. Chasing your release you grab his hair and tug it harshly bringing him even closer to your core as the other hand cups his own hand on your throat trying to tighten it even more if it was possible.

“ri-right there, fu-fuck,”

As you are about to become undone the pace slows down and he shifts off of you, leaving you a whiny mess.

“Such a filthy slut thinking it would be that easy. You only cum when I tell you too,” he rasps while getting off the bed and quickly taking off his pants and boxers. His hard glistening length bouncing up. Leaving him completely bare as he grabs his black leather belt hovering over you shoving fingers in your mouth. You quickly suck on them and lick them teasing him as he bites his lips in satisfaction. You bite on his fingers harshly getting him out of his trance. Causing him to hiss in pain and grab you by the face again.

“Be a good little slut and get on your knees.”

He lets go of your face and you quickly get on all fours. Face down, back arched, ass up. In a quick second he twists both of your arms behind your back. Quickly tying them with his belt. Your legs falter a bit not having your arms to hold you up.

“Since you want to be in charge and get all grabby without permission, how about we do it like this instead?” he asks while his hands knead your ass, spreading them wider, and teasing you.

“I want you inside of me… now,” you whine.

“Since you asked so nicely,”

His tip pokes your entrance, slowly burying his hard length inside of you. So long and thick it's almost unbearable.

“Fuck,” he moans, digging his fingers into your waist.

“So fucking tight.” he says, hand smacking your ass with so much force. Hissing from the pain as he starts slamming his hips into you. His hard length massages your inner walls. Sounds of smacking flesh and moans bouncing off the wide almost empty room.

Pounding into you at a merciless rhythm. Face being pounded into the mattress as his hips strike your ass at a brutal pace. Skin heating up and breath hitching as he fucks you into oblivion. Only thinking of the way he fills you up so well.

A fire filling your abdomen and nerves on fire. You feel yourself losing composure.

“ju-just like th-that. Harder… I-Im close,” you practically scream out.

“fu-fuck. you wanna cum kitten? you wanna cum on my fat cock? such a fucking whore? cumming on the cock of a man she hates? cum on me kitten,”

Your muscles tense, walls fluttering around his cock, as you bite on the bed sheets to suppress your loud moans as you climax.

Over stimulating your swollen cunt as he still fucks into you frantically. One hand lifting off your waist and going to your wrists undoing the belt and setting your arms free. The same hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your back flush with his as his hips don't stop rocking into you.

“Turn around for me. I want you to see my face while I fuck you senseless so that next time you let some one fuck you, you’ll never forget that the man you hate so fucking much is the only one that can fuck you this good. And so I can see how good im making you feel so every time you open that loud fucking mouth of yours and talk back I’ll remember just how undone I can get you.”

He lets go of your hair and pulls out of your swollen cunt. Still in a daze you turn around and lay down on your back, legs wide open for him. Hovering over you he slams himself back into you. Moaning and grunting at the pleasurable pain. One hand grabs you by the throat as the other holds onto your waist.

Hips snapping and his hard length quickly hit all those sweet spots. Making you flutter against him causing breathy moans and grunts to leave his mouth.

“sl-slut. letting me fuck you like this. le-letting me ruin you. gonna cum? on my cock? li-like a good little slut?”

Just with those words alone it drives you over the edge. Mouthwatering, intoxicating, and numbing clouds of pleasure take over and you become undone once again on his cock.

“What a good little slut. Cumming just for me.”

“Fuck you”

He laughs still pounding into you.

“Sounds like you might actually hate me, kitten. How about you show me how much you really do hate me.”

“Slap me”

Taken aback by his request and the over stimulation on your swollen cunt all you do is bite your lip and look at the man with confusion evident on your face

“I said… hit me kitten.”

Silence.

“Tch. What are you scared of? I knew you were boring. I should of fucked your best friend inste..” sentence interrupted by the brute force of your hand on his cheek.

“fu-fuck you.” he moans loudly, clearly turned on. Breathing loudly as his thrusts get sloppy.

He quickly takes himself out of your cunt and stays on his knees moving to hover his length over your face and frame.

“Fuck kitten. Looks like there really is more to you then you let on huh? Now put those pretty lips of yours to better use like you promised, yeah?”

You lift yourself up as much as you can with his body still entrapping you in. Licking his tip and slowly starting to suck before quickly picking up the pace. Making eye contact as saliva starts running down your chin. His hand coming up and holding the back of your head guiding you as he bucks his hips. His breathing getting even heavier as he brings up his other hand holding your head still as he fucks your mouth. Thrusting his hips at a fast pace. His long length hitting the back of your throat. Choking and eyes watering as you give him what he wants. Getting turned on all over again at how much he's enjoying your warm wet mouth around his length.

His hips shake as he finishes in your mouth. Swallowing every single drop.

“Fuck kitten. Might have to do this again. Only way I can get you to be quiet.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you say as you clean yourself up. You get changed leaving without another word not wanting to look at him any longer.

You weren't sure what would happen next, but two things you’re sure of is that you still hate him and wouldn't mind him fucking the shit out of you again.

disclaimer: my writing is intended for entertainment and does not represent any real person! the names are used for purely fictional purposes!

please reblog and leave a like! feedback is greatly appreciated and it motivates me to write more! I read it all and am so thankful for each of you!

~ masterlist ~

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kas-eddie-munson · 1 month ago

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more disabled steddie~ same CWs as earlier parts.

Part 1 ~ Part 2

~~~

After the party, Eddie was out of commission for a few days, exhausted. But he had a mission now, so by the time the next weekend rolled around, he dragged the phonebook out of the kitchen drawer and scanned the B’s for Buckley.

Her mom picked up, because that was just his luck, and he made something up about being a friend from band til he got Robin on the line.

“Hey! Buckley! You watch a lot of like, foreign films, right? Like in French or something?”

“Uh, yeah? Eddie? Who is this?”

“Yeah it’s Eddie. Listen, does Steve like those?”

“Steve? I mean I’ve forced him to watch them with me, but no, not really. Are you alright? I don’t think you’ve ever called me before.”

Eddie explained that he wanted to invite the two of them over to watch a movie, and Robin got excited, listing off movies she thought they’d all like.

The next day, Eddie opened the door to an enthusiastic Robin, Steve getting out of his car behind her.

“- and we ended up going with Star Wars which I’m sure you’ve seen already but like it’s a classic? And it’s Steve’s favorite, so we can do a mini marathon!”

Eddie pulled up next to the sofa and locked his wheels, scooching over onto the sofa and getting himself comfy. Robin stood staring at him.

“Um, do you need help? Or,”

She made a pained expression and Eddie told her he was fine, which he was. She sat down in Wayne’s recliner, as far away as she could be from where Eddie was sitting.

They got the movie set up and Steve made popcorn while Robin skipped through the ads. Steve brought over the food, and she navigated the menu, turning on closed captions. Eddie said nothing, but Steve scowled at her.

“Eds, did Robin tell you I’ve seen Star Wars before? Multiple times?” Steve made eye contact with her as he spoke.

He and Robin had a silent conversation. She pressed play without looking at the remote, and Steve heaved a sigh, head flopping back onto the sofa.

Eddie nudged Steve as they watched, making little comments after he got his attention. He didn’t ask about the elephant in the room. By the time the first movie ended they were barely paying attention to it, conversation drifting between all sorts of unrelated topics.

The next day was rough. Everything hurt, despite not doing much the day before. Too much to even sleep it off. He didn’t have weed, since he wasn’t selling anymore and couldn’t exactly ask Wayne to run him up to Rick’s place. He just laid in bed, half awake most of the day.

Wednesday, Eddie woke up feeling alright. Wayne helped him down off the porch to the car, and then packed his chair in the trunk.

Wayne took Eddie to the grocery store sometimes, like he was a dog that needed a walk. It was one of the few places in town with automatic doors and ramps onto the sidewalk, presumably for the shopping carts. He’d rip their shopping list in half, and hand half to Eddie, who would grab what he could carry in his lap and return so Wayne could get the rest of their food. Eddie was sure it took longer this way but didn’t complain.

He overheard him talking to Mrs. Henderson near the checkout lanes. She called Wayne “an angel.” Wayne Munson, who watches baseball in his underwear and smokes a pack a day. Eddie doesn’t think Wayne’s been called an angel in his life.

But he was an angel now apparently, because he has the gargantuan burden of babysitting twenty-one-year-old Eddie Munson. Indefinitely.

Eddie pretended he hadn’t heard the conversation in the car, just fiddled with the radio. Wayne didn’t mention talking to her either. They drove home in silence.

Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6

#i have the next section written already. will prolly upload that tomorrow #i think we're ~halfway done now? idk; we'll see how it goes #wheelchair user eddie munson #steddie #hoh steve harrington #disabled eddie munson #🐈 kas fic #st ficlet

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m4ndysk4nkovich · 4 months ago

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Do you have any Debbie + Ian headcanons? Pre-canon or otherwise

eek!! yes i have many… and a lot of them are pre-canon because i’m a sucker for pre-canon

i’ve written about this before (and never published it lol), but i could see one of ian’s first memories being around debbie’s birth or her actual birth. frank said something about most of his kids being born in the gallagher house, and i believe debbie was born on the same table she gave birth to franny on. ian was really excited to be a brother because of lip’s influence, and when he held debbie for the first time, he kept calling her “my baby” and getting defensive when anyone tried to take her away (which was reasonable considering he was only four and couldn’t really hold her properly without help). when they got older, maybe five and nine, they would play together with the barbie lip took from the 99¢ store and ian’s g.i. joe, debbie was very bossy and kept interjecting whenever ian tried to do anything because she had a specific plan.

whenever frank would come home wasted or monica would be having another episode, ian would grab debbie (like he does in 2x08 and 11x07) and comfort her. he would convince himself that, yet again, he was following in lip’s footsteps and helping debbie, but a part of him knew he too wanted that comfort because he didn’t often get it.

debbie has painted ian’s nails… on several occasions. when they were kids and debbie would do it, ian would insist she picks a color that wouldn’t be noticeable and would pick it off his nails before school the next day. when ian got older and debbie would do it, he didn’t really care what she did and would keep it on (even if he ended up biting it off later). maybe as an emt sue would tease him, but he’d just brush it off. franny ends up painting his, too.

around two, maybe more, times, debbie would come with ian to the milkovich house. ian would go over to study with mandy (and sneak into mickey’s room to “go to the bathroom”), and debbie would talk with mandy. she felt really cool doing this, and on the walk home debbie would excitedly tell ian about how awesome she thinks mandy is. this is around season two

while working at the kash and grab in the summer, debbie (and sometimes carl) would walk there from the public pool and debbie would convince ian to give her money for some candy or a drink. ian always intended on doing so, but he would pretend to put up a fight to irritate her.

anytime ian (or any of her siblings) was sick or hurt and needed to stay in bed, debbie would sneak into his room and talk to him like he has terminal cancer and weeks to live. ian always found it sweet, even if he would playfully roll his eyes and tell her to get out.

when debbie was pregnant, she would send ian photos of her baby bump. she wouldn’t often get more than a “❤️”, but she appreciated it considering she felt so alone, but always knew she’d have her brother.

because season ten confirmed debbie’s a stoner as an adult (twice, lol) i can imagine her smoking on the porch with ian like she did with sandy. he’d talk about mickey, she’d talk about franny, they’d laugh about their other siblings.

i can’t really think of anything else but if anyone’s seeing this and wants more headcanons i’ll happily post them, my blog’s kinda dead now (which is totally my own fault lol)

#shameless #ian gallagher #debbie gallagher #headcanons #shameless headcanon #ian and debbie #shameless us

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ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 2 months ago

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Stone Heart AU: Scar pt IV

The spell itself isn’t difficult. It’s ensuring whoever breaks out doesn’t let loose havoc and will remain inside Ramshackle. Professor Taka says that he’s really not really concerned, being 7 petrified statues gives you a lot of time to talk together, and Ramshackle is the only place where the old magic is stable enough to hold their forms. He’s little more than a ghost once he steps past the gate.

“The Headmaster at the time acquired our statues around 200 years ago. Plenty of time to get to know somebody.” He says, lounging back on one of the porch chairs and flipping through a book. “But if you want my advice for your training, I would go with Mary next. She would add a good balance.”

“Mary?”

“Queen of Hearts. Mary Elizabeth Heart.” he states, glancing up. He knows that it probably should have started with her. Mary had softened considerably in her time, seeing her children grow and their children, and so on, until Riddle Rosehearts came about and went and made the same mistakes. She had bemoaned and wept when he walked through main street red eyed and shaking from his Overblot. The very thing that had led to not just her ‘death’ but the loss of her husband years previous.

She would have treated Yuu more like a daughter, being more compassionate in sessions and probably more patient. She was good at that sort of thing, so long as you followed the rules and weren’t a complete ass. He did enjoy poking at her until she exploded though. He had to entertain himself somehow!

Perhaps though, the cub needed him first. Somebody who was firm and deliberate, but yielding. He pushed to the limits of what she had and then some, but the way she thrived under the smallest praise...well, it was concerning and rewarding. When he could see her get past the fear and hesitation and breathe through it to accomplish the step or visualize the spell, that's where she shined like the sunrise over Pride Rock.

And after all the shit that she had been put through, she needed rewards and praise. She had the drive to do better, the ambition, the fortitude. She had everything she needed to be a warrior. She just needed somebody who treated her exactly what she was.

A cub. A child. Somebody who still needed guidance and not to be tossed about in danger or left to deal with it alone with other children.

“Professor, you ok? Your face looks pinched. Tense? Tense.”

“Just an irritating thought, don’t mind it.” He waved a hand, “Breaks over, sunshine. Go through your stances again, get your knees higher. Your power comes from the thrust of your hips, the more leverage the better. And land on the balls of your feet, you’ll land softer and help with future spells. Take it slow if you must, but do it correctly.”

“Yes sir!”

She never complained about a single task, even if she asked him to explain in a different way, or if it took her a few days to get it right. He could see her get tired, limbs shaking with exertion, and still say nothing.

Grimhilde might be the one to teach her how to speak for herself. Maybe her instead? But her magical core is too much for her to support right now.

Although...perhaps if they were able to bring in the familiars? Less magic to support, same mindset, easier on her core, natural support. He would discuss as much with the others tonight, while she slept.

Sometimes he wished that Shenzi and her husbands had been considered familiars. But they weren’t subservient to him nor soul bonded, not like Diaval or Crovis or even Iago. He would not wish them to be. But it was something that him and Ursula had bonded over, their love and pain of their long lost friends.

When he assured himself that she was asleep, he left the Ramshackle. It was a strange feeling still. Inside Ramshackle, he was tangible. He was able to touch objects, move her hands into the correct position and so on. Once he stepped out though, he was as faded as the damn smoke that trailed behind him, not even able to move the leaves on the ground he walked on. A ghost perhaps? Closest thing perhaps. It didn’t matter as much, as he had never encountered any beings, not even Malleus. The dragon may actually be able to see him with his core.

He agreed with Maleficent though. The patterns were obvious enough. The children that corresponded the closest with themselves were the ones overblotting. He would bet his last coin that Malleus would Overblot at some point, it was only a matter of when.

He steps onto Mainstreet and slides down the base of his statue, and closes his eyes.

He had sunk into this spot so often that the vaccum of magic feels like a comfort now. It existed, but it didn’t. Accessible but only when all were in true agreement. There was a reason that it had taken them years upon years to try and break free, and even then, the little monster was not considred a resounding success.

“How fairs the child?” Grimhilde asks. All of their forms slip and morph in this space, but for now, she looks in her prime. Tall, regal and vaguely haughty.

“She fairs well. Her lessons are successful and she’s a diligent student. I hold concern for her food and sleep, but until I can hold any sort of solid form to address the damn headmage myself, we are at a loss there. I hunt when she is at school at least, though it is sparing. We can’t attract too much attention.”

“She seems invigorated. Tired, but she’s got a brighter look in her eyes. Floyd, precious little thing, he’s getting curious,” Ursula praises, also taken to her prime form. “But you didn’t come just to give a progress report. What’s the deal?”

He huffs, “Oh, I can’t miss my dear friends?”

“Oh on with it kitty kitty,” Hades, damn the crawler, though at least he has taken an older form. “You’ve got some idea; you settle in somewhere about as well as snakeskin does.”

There's a hiss beside him, a snifting of scales. Ah, seems that Jamil did something to unsettle him again. They were far to alike in history and personality, especially at this age.

“We all know it will take years for her to be ready to take on those of us with stronger magical cores at this rate. I’m not saying speed up the process and put her in danger,” he pointedly says to Mary, who opens her mouth, “But perhaps something like microdosing. For those who still have their familiars, it would be much easier to manage them, as opposed to the originals.”

There’s a pulse, ripples above that show there is thought, emotion, activity, but whos and where are completely lost. Only intensity.

“And for those of us that don’t?” Mary asks, fanning herself. She was like himself and Ursula, no familar.

“Items of Imbuement I think. I don’t know what each of you have, nor the enchantments upon them. I think she could be ready for simple Grimoire’s in half a years' time, maybe a bit less.” He sighs, waving a hand between Ursula, Jafar and Grimhilde. “I am more concerned with getting a safer means for the precognition dreams. The mirror works well, but she can’t control what it shows or where it goes. There is a guardian inside, but whatever the damn thing is, it is a being of Light. I can’t tell you who or what it is.”

“Has it been lending the visions to her?” Jafar mumbles, the sound of pages ruffling.

“I can’t be sure. It hasn’t hurt her, and she tells me that it speaks rarely. High pitched voice, but some sort of beastman she thinks. Large round ears on the top of his head is the only real distinguishing mark on him.”

“We will have to continue this another time,” Malifient annouces, “Morning is drawing near for you. We will speak to our familars and see who would be prepared to part, and what materials. Is there room in the dorm to hold them?”

“Plenty.” Scar stands, leaning heavily on his staff. “The place is decrepit, but the east wing at least stands strong and insulated. Around 12 rooms, give or take. Mine faces the sunrise.” He purrs, knowing he got the best room in the place.

They make their remarks, some of the usual banter, but truly, it’s only three that would be able to lend any familiars, the rest would be enchanted items. It’s rough, but doable.

The sun peeks out just as he stumbles on his staff trying to rise. The smoke evaporates in the warmth of the sun and his vision becomes spotty. Far past time, he might not make it back before students start-

He blinks, facing the graveyard. He’s in his room, plopped onto the plush chair. Solid again too, the fabric indented with his claws. Huh. Well, that’s interesting, isn’t it?

“Professor Taka?” Yuu is already awake of course, tying the silk into a proper tie. “Did you fall asleep in your chair? I know you like looking at the stars but it’s not good for your back, you know.”

He smiles, rising from it. “Worried about me? How cute. I suppose I could be more cautious in the future." He feels vaguely weak when he rises, but not too bad. "Go finish getting ready, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Are you actually going to cook it though? The meat was still bleeding last time.”

“Little runt.” he clips, tugging on a lock of hair, “Yes, I’ll cook it through, and it will lose all the flavoring because your little herbivore stomach can’t handle anything delicious.”

They banter about seasoning and recipes, gives a sneaky pet to Grim behind the ears as he blearily eats, and they rush out the door, leaving him in the blissful quiet.

Finally. He needs a nap.

#twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #stone heart AU #twst great 7 #twst the great 7 #twst scar

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solomons-finest-rum · 1 year ago

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“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 3

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This time it took me much faster to write, mostly thanks to your wonderful replies and reblogs! 💗💗💗💗💗

WORD COUNT — 2,103

Masterlist

“So this is the man you have chosen for yourself?” Polly asked you when she followed you out to the porch for the much-deserved cigarette break.

The rest of the Shelby clan, as you have started to call them in your head, were left alone with Alfie, because you couldn’t take any more of their so-called negotiations. Somehow you weren’t exactly sure which party you felt sorrier for.

So you tried to escape, but Polly, ever the careful strategist, wouldn’t leave you alone. You paid it no mind, or so you wanted to pretend.

“Alfie?” You lit a match for her, which she gladly accepted. “He’s my husband.”

“Of your own free volition, no less.”

“Don’t be glib.”

Even though, curiouser and curiouser, you noticed you and Polly smoked the same brand of cigarettes, neither of you said anything to acknowledge the fact.

“Anna…”

“Polly.”

“All I want…”

“Yes?”

“All I want is to know you’re happy.”

“I am happy.” You paused. “Is Michael?”

You knew that wasn’t what the discussion was about, nor really the question that the Shelby matriarch wanted to answer. But you decided not to give her too much leeway. If she would ask you things in a more straightforward manner, you would perhaps answer, but you weren’t in the habit of being especially accommodating.

“He’s not who you think him to be, you know. Alfie.” You offered this much, because whether you wanted to admit it or not, Polly’s saddened expression did tug on your heartstrings—even if just a little.

“Oh, I think we both know exactly who he is, dear.”

You smirked.

“Enlighten me, please.”

Polly frowned and after some initial hesitation related for you pretty much the essence of the past few years and her family’s dealings with one Alfie Solomons. Most of it you knew, some of it was news to you, but nothing exactly changed your mind about the man.

What Polly or the rest of the Shelbys didn’t know was that the man behind the violent and unpredictable mask wasn’t really who you married or woke up next to every single day. But you didn’t feel like enlightening them just yet. The past you and Alfie shared meant so much more than territorial pissings.

“I know his reputation, Polly, but that doesn’t change the fact I owe him my life,” you informed her. “And Tommy tried to take his.”

This, as expected, wasn’t the reaction Polly wanted to hear.

“What happened to you?” she whispered incredulously, her dark eyes full of questions.

“A lot of bad things happened to me. Things I don’t necessarily want to relive.”

Polly’s grip on the porch railing got a little tighter.

“None of it was your fault,” you offered her that small consolation, regardless whether you had any real evidence for it. You were now a part of Alfie’s world, but you weren’t as ruthless. Never could.

Polly looked at you with hope so evident in her face that you couldn’t really find any other words than those you knew to be true: the rest of your story.

“Mind you, I don’t remember much and I’m sorry to say I don’t remember you at all, Polly. Your voice is familiar to me, but when I try to look further back it’s like looking at something through a dusty glass. I mostly remember Michael and sometimes I even get bits and pieces of how he used to play with me. Well, how he used to drag me around in a shoebox on a string.”

Polly laughed at that in surprise.

“I’m sure it was John who gave him that bright idea,” she said quietly, as if worried that any audible reaction would cause you to stop talking.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“When they took you away, I… It felt like…”

You waited patiently for Polly to gather her bearings, but what she said next shocked you:

“I think I missed you both so much that sometimes I simply wanted to die.”

It was hard to think of anything constructive to reply to that and so you hesitated to speak again. Polly lit another cigarette.

“Did they ship you off to the colonies?” she asked, evidently having deduced your lack of warmth for something it wasn’t.

The full truth was so much more pathetic, you thought. You weren’t good at these sorts of things; nobody in your life ever made you participate in heartfelt conversations. You didn’t know what to say to her about that previous confession and so you just answered the question:

“That was the plan. I probably would have died on the way there and almost dying seemed preferential at the time… Before they packed us up like slaves, they kept us in these big warehouses near the docks. All of us: convicted women, old, young, insane, some even children. Some just orphans and some real murderers. It was the most horrified I have ever been. You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t breathe without someone trying to harm you one way or another. They fed us rotten food, wouldn’t let us clean ourselves, the bed bugs made the guards shave our heads… and then the fever broke out. Some of us were moved to a makeshift infirmary, where they also moved me when I fell ill. But that fever became my salvation. I wasn’t as well guarded there and one night when I regained consciousness I escaped.”

“What?” Polly gasped. “But how… Why did they say you died in Australia?”

“A fevered girl manages to escape His Majesty’s chamber of torture in her flea-riddled nightgown and lives to tell the tale.” You smirked. “Wouldn’t that make an uncomfortable headline?”

Polly thought about it for a second, but then confirmed with a nod that she agreed with your point.

“And Solomons, then?”

“I stole from him,” you laughed. “Don’t judge, I know the bakery is simply a front, but the bread they get is as good as any. And if you can’t see straight and haven’t eaten anything not covered in rat droppings for weeks… Your opinions on food ownership tend to get a little loser. Shame my reflexes had gotten so dull back then, because I would have gotten away with it, too. But I was delirious and truth be told probably looked dead already. So Alfie Solomons, the big bad wolf you think he is, took pity on me.”

It took a while for Polly to digest all that information and so you two just smoked in silence, up until her hand reached for yours somewhat unexpectedly. This time you didn’t reject her.

“I am sorrier than you could ever imagine, because—” Polly stammered.

“I know you are. But there is no need for it. I truly am at peace.”

After that, you just stood there holding hands, and even though you couldn’t know what Polly was thinking, you had a pretty good idea.

You were so different from Michael, that much was clear, and part of you wished you could express your feelings better than through an armour of perpetual cold or quips. Then again, from what you have heard today, Michael had led a very different life. Had you been allowed a normal home, with normal loving parents, perhaps you could have abandoned your snark and focused on rebuilding your relationship with Polly.

But, as things currently stood, it was too late to be something else than what life made you. A part of you would always remain on your guard, because no part of you would ever forget the hardships and the sacrifices you had to make from the ripe age of five. No child should ever see or endure what you had to.

“There’s still the matter of Boston,” Polly changed the subject swiftly and you smiled to yourself, wondering what her angle would be this time.

You came to like that about her, in the past few hours you came to finally know her. She was unpredictable and that kept you on your toes. If only she knew how much it resembled your husband’s own ways, perhaps she would stop with her side looks.

“What about Boston?” you asked.

“Your sister-in-law is Jack Nelson’s favourite niece. Or so we’ve heard.”

You shook your head and chuckled.

“You don’t like her, I take it. Gina Gray.”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Is it the snow habit or the scheming that bothers you more?”

“It’s the bad hairdo, mostly. I do like her choice in shoes, though…”

You laughed at that in earnest and looked at Polly to see her smiling at you, albeit a little shyly. The smile, you thought, removed ten years of worry from her face.

“I have heard about the Nelsons,” you informed her. “I don’t suppose Michael will look too kindly on what we’re about to do to them. But then again… They did kill Alfie’s uncle. They messed with his business. I don’t see how it could be forgiven.”

“No, I don’t see how it could. But I can still hear them talking in there and nobody shot anyone yet.”

“So we are in agreement.” You threw the rest of your cigarette away and looked at Polly once more.

“We all make sacrifices, I suppose,” she agreed. “But you, my darling, have made plenty. We will not ask you for more.”

You smiled at her again, though this time there was much less wariness to it. She spoke in riddles and kept her cards very close to her chest, but that also reminded you of Alfie. You were sure now you would like her very much indeed.

“Absolutely not. Out of the fuckin’ question, fuckin’ ridiculous.” Alfie waved his hand dismissively and then looked at you as soon as you and Polly came back inside. “You’re upsettin’ my wife, thanks very much, mate, all right, just look at her, Tommy, she’s plenty upset!”

“And why would I be upset, Alfie?” you chirped.

“She doesn’t even know what she’s sayin’ no more, poor thing.” He stood up abruptly, too abruptly for Arthur’s taste who immediately reached for his gun.

“Now, you’re alright there, sweetie, yeah, no need to get emotional,” Alfie gave him a look, “but my wife does need her rest, all right, an’ I don’t particularly need us all to tuck her into bed, it ain’t that kind of thing.”

Confused, you let your husband take you upstairs to your bedroom, because to be fair you knew better than to interrupt his scheming in business. It let him break the habit of scheming in your personal lives.

“Might I know why I’m being relegated to my bed without dinner like a toddler, Alfie?”

“Yeah, I need to talk to you, come ‘ere.”

As soon as the door closed behind you, you heard the telltale noises of a very agitated discussion happening downstairs.

“What did she tell ya then?”

“Who?”

“Your mother, hm?”

“It was mostly me doing the talking.”

“She told ya about Boston.”

“How did you…?”

“Hm, I didn’t, right, but now you just told me. So out with it.”

Honestly, you were sometimes so impressed with his skill of manipulation that you forgot to be annoyed at being the manipulated party.

“Alfie, if you don’t want your wife to divorce you, I suggest you utilise those evil gifts of yours on our guests.”

“Fair, but don’t be mad, luv, all right, come ‘ere,” he smiled and pulled you closer, “and tell your beast of a husband if he should go to war or not, ‘cause this time I don’t think I can do it without you.”

“Alfie, you have done it without me. Many times.”

“Precisely my point, all right, I’m the one who knows how it feels to not have you to keep me sane, luv, so if you say we don’t do it, then we don’t, yeah?”

“You… you’d abandon your vengeance? For me?”

“In a heartbeat, luv, what kind of question is that even, you don’t ask me that. ‘Course I fuckin’ would.”

Remembering what Polly said about Gina, your mind was pretty much decided. You appreciated Alfie’s honesty, always have, but disrespect couldn’t be easily forgiven.

“Then I say we do it.”

The sudden fire in your voice made Alfie grin.

“I say we kill them all, Alfie. You take Boston and Tommy can have Jack Nelson’s head on a spike.”

“On a spike, hm?”

“That’s right.”

He gently took your face in his hands and looked at you with such affection that it only reassured you in your thinking.

“I love it when you talk business to me, luv,” he concluded.

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