#brief mention but i think i should still tag it
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word count: 1.1k
summary: harryâs angry at the world, himself included and he makes it everyoneâs problem but there might be a light coming in the middle of his storm
notes: this is part two of this fic so it is still considered a dark fic. it contains mentions of drinking to cope with his grief, violence inflicted onto others and a brief scene of it as well.
masterlist
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To say that Harryâs been miserable lately would be a huge understatement. Heâs been absolutely insufferable in the past two weeks. He spends all day drinking and holed up inside his office, heâs grumpy and snappy with everybody and heâs even more mean whenever he has to take care of someone. Itâs his release in a way, the one safe space he can let out his anger at the world, at the Gallegos for taking away his love, at himself for not doing more.
âGoddamn! Fuck!â He screams in the confines of his office. He down a shot of whiskey and quickly pours himself another one, the burn going down his throat is welcoming â encouraged is the better word for it. His chest rises and falls harshly as he stares at the picture of her. One he had taken a couple of months into knowing each other, a bright smile on her lips and her hair and dress flowing in the wind behind her as they walked through a park. She had wanted a picnic and he was a sucker for her smile, so of course heâd do it for her. It was all worth it in the end, to see the smile plastered on her face and the excitement in her eyes
He misses her terribly, the past week has been the hardest week ever and he doesnât know if itâll get any better. He allows the tears to fall freely, to stain his cheeks and the mahogany oak of his desk. It seems as if his tears are never ending, just becoming a permanent addition to his appearance. He canât bring himself to care, too busy wallowing in his guilt and pain. He guesses he deserves it in a way, none of this wouldâve happened if heâd been paying more attention, if they wouldâve stayed home or better yet if heâd never given her his number.
He huffs sadly as he wipes his tears away the best he can, he canât do anything about the stains left on his cheeks. He takes another shot of whiskey and heads towards his office door, he figures now is as good of a time as any, and really he just canât wait to let out some tension. He walks out the room and down the hall, ignoring the eyes of the few employees gathered around the desk before rolling his eyes as they start whispering.
âDonât you all have a fucking job to do? This isnât Barbieâs show where we all sit around and look pretty.â He huffs before mumbling under his breath, watching them with crossed arms as they scramble to find something to do.
He continues walking then, taking deep breaths to try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He canât look weak in front of them. He walks past the framed pictures on the wall, past the rooms where clicking and the occasional scream filters through the closed doors until he gets to the last door in the hall. The dark wooden door detailed with swirls and large black handles is heavy as he pushes it open, but he enjoys the pain. His own form of punishment he guesses.
The room is filled with different tools and weapons, lights scattered all over the ceiling but still keeps the room dark enough. He prefers this environment to feel more like a horror movie than just a simple killing room, and wants it to feel eerie and depressing. He wants the room to inflict absolute sheer terror and feet into anyone who just so happens to end up strapped to the chair. His dress shoes click against the concrete floor, echoing around the room and he watches happily as the man strapped to the chair begins to squirm and try to break free. Itâs no use though, heâs mastered the best knot to tie around the body and the chair tightly to keep them from moving but also to inflict pain when they try to escape.
âWell, well, well. Not happy to see me?â He asks in a sickly sweet voice, too sweet to be used in such a setting. The man shakes his head violently as he tries rocking the chair side to side, his screams are muffled behind the tape. Harry simply chuckles, heâs always amused at their useless attempts.
âNow, I just have a couple of questions for you. I just need some information and I believe you should be able to help with this.â He says as he leans down so his face is right in front of the man with tears filling his eyes. The man shakes his head and Harry grabs a handful of his hair, firmly holding him in place.
âSo you donât want to leave? I was gonna let you leave if you answer⌠but since you donât think thatâs fair.. youâll be stuck here.â He says and he watches as more tears fall from the manâs eyes and Harry just laughs, everyone wants to be all big and bad until they have to confront their behaviors. They think that no one will be able to catch them, they always underestimate his dedication. Heâll search every corner of the internet and the world just to find someone, and heâs been doing that lately. Searching for hours and hours on the internet to find someone.
He pulls himself back as he smiles, heâs gonna enjoy himself through all this. He starts off small, a few punches and rough tugs of the hair, and he relishes in the muffled cries of the man in front. He rips off the tape and the man screams.
âWho wanted my girl dead and why?â He asks and the man shakes his head.
âI donât know man!â He says through his tears and shakes his head as if heâs disappointed.
âSuch a shame.â He says as he walks to a table full of various weapons and tools of all sizes, he grabs a pair of pliers and walks back to the man, hitting the pliers against his palm.
âMaybe this will ring some answers for you, for every question you donât answer and Iâm not satisfied with the answer Iâll pull one of your teeth out. How does that sound?â The man cries and shakes his head.
âPlease man, Iâm serious! I donât know anything!â He cries out and Harry sighs.
âAlready onto a bad start, my friend.â He says as he yanks the manâs jaw open as he decides which teeth to pull. As soon as he picks one, the door opens and EJâs voice rings out.
âHey boss, sorry to bother you but you have a phone call, itâs important.â Harry shakes his head. He should know better than to interrupt him. Heâd hate to have to fire him.
âUh, Iâm busy. Tell them Iâll call back later.â Harry replies back, sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his voiceand the door still stays open.
âItâs the hospital, Y/N. Sheâs alive.â
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles writing#harry styles one direction#harry styles fan fic#harrystyles#harry styles one shots#harry styles sad#harry styles angst#harry styles x fem!reader#brief mention but i think i should still tag it#harry styles x y/n#my writing
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NO NUT NOVEMBER â JJK MEN
gojo, nanami, toji, getĹ, choso, jujutsu kaisen men & how long can they last during nnn
2.7k+ â total wc â
â tags â afab!reader. overstim , edging , dry humping , unprotected sex , oral [f] , orgasm-denial , semi-public sex , dirty talk , choking , dumbification kink, brat taming.
FAILED NOV. 1 â GOJO SATORU
poor gojo fails on the first day immediately. he's so cocky once you suggest you two should try itâsee which one breaks first and it's obviously gojo. you walking around in a sundress was just about enough for him to forget about the entire challenge.
âyou really donât think iâll last for the entire month?â gojo says, and heâs just following you around. itâs november first and heâs already losing it. the pretty sundress that hung down you, practically and barely reaching your ass made him ten times hornier. âpft. please. i can last the whole month withoutââ and then he stops mid-sentence at the realization, and his lip quivers a bit whilst heâs rubbing himself against you from behind. ââŚcan't i at least.. touch you, baby?â
âno,â you spoke, letting off a gasp once he bends you straight over the kitchen counter. all it took was for gojo to pull up your sundress a few inches towards your waist, and he nearly lets off a needy moan once he sees youâre wearing no panties. âyou can last a month satoru. it's not that long.â
âhey âs not fuckin' fair,â he groans, and heâs so close propped up against you. his bulge hardens against you, heâs only wearing simple grey sweats and he slides his hands against your waist. âplanned this all out, d-didnât you,â and he lets off a low breathy sigh. âthere's no rule sayin' i canât bend ya over like this,â he speaks, his voice sounding whiner by the secondâyou gasp once he squeezes your ass, feeling his thumb brush against your slit. âis there, baby?â
gojo couldn't help himself. once he had you bent over, you now found yourself in mating press with him being pumped full over and over again. a day hasnât even passed and he already lostâto be fair, in his defense it was your fault for walking around in a pretty short sundress that nearly showed the bottom parts of your ass.
âs-so nice ân warm fâme.â heâd pant again and again, having you in quite the position to where youâre laid flat on your back, his own cum is so much itâs oozing out of your pussy. your grip onto his wrist tightens as he dips his hips in and out, youâre moaning from his thrustsâalready forgetting about the stupid dumb challenge you suggested for you and your boyfriend to participate in.
to think of going one month without being intimate with gojo.
âs-satoru,â you moaned, and his base just smacks just smacks and smacks against you. you're so dizzy, craving more of his sticky load by the second, desperately wanting to be even more full. it was such a mess between your legs. heâs panting and staring at you with that same hungry feral gaze, swiping a tongue across his sheeny lipsâgojo leans in to kiss you hard, yet more so passionate. heâs moaning and whining into your mouth while preparing to cum again and heâs so sensitive. he can barely think straight. âm-mhm.â
your body is basically being fucked dumb into the fats of the silkened mattress. gojoâs weight hovers against yours as his cock thrusts in and out, giving you whiplash so good to where it has you digging your pretty nails into the pale roots of his arm.
ânot finished with you,â he pants, his eye-lids were low, and he was still panting up a storm once he pulls out for a brief moment. gojo stares down at the mess he createâlicking his lips once more before leaning down to briefly lick a little of his own cum from your thighs before letting off a sigh. âwe⌠can try again next year, y-yeah?â
FAILED NOV. 3 â CHOSO KAMO
choso would have honestly failed on the first day too, but he has a bit more self control which is surprising. he's a very needy man not to mention quite clingy too. three days felt so long for the poor guy though. three days without cumming insideâhe'd go mad. so he had to improvise.
âjust a taste princess, just aâŚtaste,â heâd pant, staring at you with such intent. youâre just lying down on the bed, glancing back up at him while rubbing a hand over your tummy before smiling. âdonât look at me like that.â
âchoso itâs only been three days,â you giggle, reaching for his hand and he was so warmâhe lets off a soft moan just from your touch alone, so touch starved and it hasnât even been that long.
a big baby.
but eventually, he was so cute and you gave in. choso didnât even want to fuck you. all he wanted to do was please you, more than please himself. but he does end up pleasing himself just a tad bit. you getting off gets him off if that makes sense. the raven-haired man was propped securely between your legs, his tongue latched onto your sweet cunt, lapping it up continuously while his moans fanned against youâmaking you create out tiny whines and moans yourself.
âs-so good, so hungry,â he whines, and choso canât help but reach into his black and white boxers, stroking himself. he couldnât help it, just hearing your sweet noises was enough to make him cum right through his sweatpants. âdrivinâ me s-so insane.â
âfuck choso,â you whimper, some long strands of his hair tickles and brushes against your thighs, heâs so sloppy too. making sure to spit on your pussy only to clean it up. choso wasnât never fond of his pretty baby to be messy. heâs so into it, his lashes remained closed as he ate you out, continuing to stroke his dickâmoaning right into your folds, eventually your slick drips down his chin and heâs craving more and more. âdonât stop, your tongue feels so g-good, baby.â
âpraise me more,â he whines, giving you a brief stare, his eyes opens for a second and his eyebrows raise down and furrow. a cute saddened expression of how wanting and needy he was. âwant you to tell me how good âm makinâ you feel, gorgeous.â
youâre panting heavily from his tongue and how deep it reaches, each suck and slurp he creates before you dig your fingers through his hair to make him maintain eye contact. âyouâre so good, choso. youâre making me feel so good.â
ââŚ.oh, sâ all i want, pretty,â he sighs, giving the front part of your pussy a sweet kiss before dragging a single orgasm out of you.
FAILED NOV. 9 â FUSHIGURO TOJI
you make toji fail because youâre justâŚhorny. toji believe it or not, toji could last a few days of nnn despite being an actual walking sex-machine. it was your idea, but now you regret it. it makes his ego boost tremendously seeing how you couldnât take it anymore, such a cock hungry girl.
âtoji!â youâd pout, desperate for him to at least touch you at leastâbut no, he was busy occupying himself by working out. raising the hefty bench pressed up and down, he looked so good. and he was just ignoring you. a smirk lightly pressed against his lips as he lifts the gym equipment up and down, counting his sets in his head and you bit your lip.
you had to do something, you couldnât wait. itâs been nine days, you were sitting on tojiâs lap. specifically, his hard bulge that was poking through his grey gym shorts. âyes baby,â he speaks, acting as if you werenât squirming on his lap, so desperate to get him off.
âi need you,â was the only pathetic words leaving your lips, and he watches as you slide your hands up his white tank tee, brushing your fingertips against his abdomenâhis rock hard abs just flexing, a bit sweaty and you nearly moaned. âso bad. sosobad. fuck me please. âs was a stupid idea.â
âtch. âbout damn time. and ya said iâd break first,â he chuckles, setting the black dumbbells aside to their original position. âmm. at least yâer aware. now now, be a good girl ân take those filthy panties off fâme.â
you whined, thankful you wore a skirt so all you had to was really slip your panties offâyou stare down at toji as youâre riding him and heâs still laid flat on his back on the gym bench. at least it wasnât many people around but theyâd still probably see you. but from anyoneâs perspective, itâd look like a silly girl on her boyfriendâs lap for whatever reason.
âs-shit,â you moaned, feeling his cock expand deep just from his girth alone. it was so good, it nearly had you drooling. tojiâs fat dick was something you could never get enough of. it stretched you out so goodâit was indescribable to say how great it made you feel, your pussy yearned for more each time, your mouth grows dry as you grind your hips against him. and heâs just staring at you with his toned arms are just smugly pinned behind his back, watching you have the time of your life. âsâbig toji. fuck.â
âya know how to take it every time though, doll,â he grunts, bringing a hand towards your waist to somewhat guide your movements. you whimper once he brings a hard smack to your ass once he feels you start to slow down, heâs so big, his tip kisses against deep inside of your pussy and youâre so dizzy, you canât even speak words. âfuckinâ whore-â he groans, and you end up making toji cum quicker than he thought he wouldâit shoots right inside you, his head goes back for about two seconds and itâs sexy, you can see his adams apple just briefly.
âbetter savor that shit,â he grumbles, watching you catch your breath yourself, and he brings two fingers and dips them inside your pussy before letting off a grunt. âshould make ya lick my fingers clean. bet youâd like that, little slutty girl,â and he gives you a brief head pat while youâre pushed into his chest, panting over and over. âyeah ya fuckinâ would.â
FAILED NOV. 18 â SUGURU GETĹ
geto could last long, but everything changed once you decided to tease him a bit too much. sending him videos of you touching yourself while heâs out at work or busy. he comes home to youâand he just canât take it anymore.
getoâs breath shakes once he holds his phone in one hand, seeing you on the screenâonly in your bra and panties, sliding a hand up and down your body. his eyes trail and observe every inch, his mouth dry a bit, wishing you were with him right now. âsuguru baby, you miss me?â youâd say in the video recording, dragging your fingertips further and further down until you eventually stopped at the very hem of your panties. âitâs been eighteen days since you last touched me.â
âyeahâŚâ he pants, knowing you obviously canât hear him, but he wished you could. so bad. âmiss you so bad, princess. miss your pussy.â
âremember, you canât touch yourself to me either. or cum until the month ends, okay? love you.â and the video clip ends. of course, he watches it at least seven more timesânearly cumming his pants just at the sound of your voice alone.
geto groans, feeling the bulge in his pants strain staggeringly get bigger and bigger. once he finally gets home, he couldnât contain himself any longer.
you were already waiting for him on the bed, with a sly smileâgeto's quick to pick you up and kiss you all over, staring with your lips and your neck. âthe tip, just the tip. swear. jusâ gotta feel you baby. feel your warmth.â
âfine,â you smile, already making your way onto him. geto tells you at least ten shaky thank youâs once youâre hovering over his cockâgeto looks so pretty underneath you, his hair covers his face and he starts whining once youâre doing as promised, just the tip. âwhatâs wrong, do you want more than that?â
âyeah but baby, youâre gonna make me c-cum.â he moans, feeling you start to sink down lower until your hips rocks against him and he lets off a soft whimper by accident. âdamn, just like that. ride me baby. make me cummm,â and his voice is so smooth but shaky, his dark pretty eyes nearly rolls back and itâs so sexy, heâs so sensitive he keeps swallowing and bracing himself before within secondsâgeto ends up shooting white ropes inside, you feel his dick twitch as heâs still spasming, itâs been so long and his load is so much.
âshit.â he whines, leaning in to kiss you and he ends up moaning in your mouth once you return the kiss. âsaved- saved sâmuch for you, baby,â he moans, grabbing ahold of your hips, making you continue to rock against himâonly before he grips your waist, and starts to make you slam onto him and you whined, completely taken aback. âgotta remind this pussy who it really belongs to though.â
FAILED NOV. 30 â NANAMI KENTO
nanami's the only one of the few who can actually go an entire month, although he just about barely makes it. he comes home from a long day at work and heâs just so pent up and stressed. all he can think about is using you as his personal cum dump.
âyou donât know how hard it was to notââ and he pauses, having you lied flat on your back, using a single hand to pry your pretty legs open. you shiver from feeling the cold band of his watch brush against your thighs. âwoman, you torture me, you know that?â
you whimper from feeling him slowly sink himself insideâheâs staring down at you and his weight presses against your ass, he groans once he goes in and out, heâs teasing you. his cock was so thick, it stretches you out in every shape or form. your pussy hugs and grips him tightly, and he just canât help himself. âkento, cum in me p-please,â
âthought you said i couldnât cum until december first, sweetheart,â he says in a low voice, itâs almost seductive by the sounds of his pronunciation. nanamiâs just sliding his tip in and out, itâs leaking with some of his own pre-cum, and he lets off a chuckle once he hears your cute whine of frustration. âthis is your little game, iâm just playing by the rules.â
âdidnât mean it,â you cry out, so needy for him to fuck you. he was so warm, so so warm, your eyebrows parted together in annoyance and you bit your lip at him sinking a few inches inside your tight needy cunt before pulling out again. âkento please. fuck me, cum-cum in me, i need it.â
âoh, i know,â he breaths, and you gasp once you feel him spank your ass before rubbing it softly. nanami groansâswiping his fat reddened tip against your throbbing hole, spitting on his hand before rubbing it against your entrance to make you whimper, then spanks your pussy. âto think i havenât touched this pretty body for a damn near month. you only ended up torturing yourself, sweetheart. canât last a day without me filling this sloppy cunt up,â and as heâs talking, youâre growing more and more dizzy. youâre practically drooling from how needy you were.
and he dumbs his words down just a tad bit for you, his voice grows low once he leans up close to you purposely, wrapping a hand around your throat as his weight pressed against your ass. âtell me,â he whispers. âsay the words and iâll overflow your pussy with everything i have, pretty girl.â
âplease kento, need your cum. need it so bad. fill me up please. breed me.â
âanything for my girl.â he kisses the top of your head, stroking a thumb against the middle part of your neck before stuffing two fingers of his into your mouthâhe didnât expect you to suck on them, but you did, whining and whining over and over again once he starts to thrust inside of you. heâs slow but his strokes are deep, and itâs so romantic. âthatâs it, jusâ relax for me. let me claim these walls, then iâll claim your heart next.â
#â
vegasbaby.#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#jjk smut#anime smut#female reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#toji smut#geto smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#cw smut#jjk x reader smut#geto x reader#geto x you#cw sex mention#jujustsu kaisen x reader#choso smut
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we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader
You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.
wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit
tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...
a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)
Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. Itâs a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesnât feel good doing it â the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.
Itâs a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything youâve seen today.
You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.
Spencerâs been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. Youâve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You canât help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. Youâve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve.Â
While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didnât know it.Â
Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasnât doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. Heâd slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.
You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasnât like this before prison. Still, you found Spencerâs quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.
And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.
About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldnât hurt a fly.Â
About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like heâd only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar.Â
Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you.Â
About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp.Â
About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room.Â
About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you.Â
âSpencer,â you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you donât care. Spencer kisses you like heâs a starved man and youâre his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.
âYouâre gorgeous,â Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. âLook what you do to me.â
You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. âSpencer,â you gasp.
âYouâre so hot, you make me feel crazy,â Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. Youâre separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end.Â
You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.
âSpence,â you moan, frustrated. While Spencerâs hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. Youâre perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do.Â
Magically, Spencerâs clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you donât have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what heâd look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect.Â
âYouâre too fucking good to me, baby,â Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. âGonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.â
Without hesitation, Spencerâs cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch.Â
You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers arenât enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like heâd split you in half on his cock.Â
He pushes into you until heâs pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like heâs uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.
Your fingers arenât enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than youâd like.
âSpenceââ you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You donât know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not â being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.
The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you donât care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. Itâs exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.
You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy.Â
Spencer has you pinned down, but itâs not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if itâs only in your mind, shameful as youâre getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person.Â
âFuck,â you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. Youâre shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you canât take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until youâre moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.
You donât mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.
---
Spencer canât stop thinking about you.
He shouldnât, not when youâre his coworker and also one of the people heâs friendliest with in the unit.Â
Spencer would say he couldnât bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasnât uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as heâd gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you â but thatâs besides the point.Â
Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and heâs certain that thatâs all you see him as: a friend.Â
Yet, he canât stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great â not that he was looking â especially when youâre leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.
Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasnât complaining.Â
Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off.Â
He canât get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips â he shouldnât be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for Godâs sake, and yet he canât stop imagining you under him.Â
He canât stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room â your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big.Â
He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.
âPlease, daddy,â you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion.Â
âDaddy,â you whimper, âFeels so good.â
âYeah?â Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him.Â
Youâre whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencerâs ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.
âFuck, baby,â Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. âYouâre too good to me.â
âDaddy,â you sob, your hands clawing down Spencerâs back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them.Â
âGonna cum inside of you, love,â Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. âYouâre gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.â
Youâre whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer canât help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until heâs cumming.
He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his.Â
Heâs barely towelled off before heâs knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you.Â
---
Sure, perhaps itâs childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking youâ Not helping, you remind yourself.
Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer.Â
But you canât avoid Spencer forever, and you arenât any good at it either. You feel like Spencerâs eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you donât have any more excuses at the end of the day when youâve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.
You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think youâre successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.
Youâve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when thereâs a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, andâ
There Spencer is.Â
âHi,â you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope itâs not obvious that youâre blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, âWhatâs up?â
âI should be asking you that,â Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. âWhatâs up with you today?â
You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, âNothingâs up. Iâm fine.â
âCome on,â Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. âYou know I can read you like an open book. Somethingâs up.â
You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. âYeah? Tell me whatâs the matter, if you can read me so well.â
Spencerâs eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adamâs apple bob as he swallows.
âI- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,â Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. Itâs kind of hot.Â
Do you make him⌠nervous?
âYeah, but if you insist on thinking somethingâs up with meâŚâ You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.
No. You couldnât possibly entertain the thought.Â
Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. âWell, youâve been avoiding me, on purpose or not â both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.â Spencer says, his voice even, but he isnât looking at you.Â
You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you canât shake off the feeling that thereâs something more to Spencerâs words, the way heâs looking at you like he hopes you canât pick his brain apart.Â
So, you turn it back onto him, âThen, what do you think is the problem? You arenât looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like youâre projecting, Dr. Reid.â
Spencer freezes, like heâs a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.
You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. âYou wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?âÂ
âWhen did this become about me?â Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. Thereâs a look in Spencerâs eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and ohâ âI justâ Well, Iâ Youââ
âIâm thinking we might be on the same page, here,â you say, smirking. âWanna tell me what it is?â
Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but youâre putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. âOhââ
âTell me, Dr. Reid,â you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencerâs face, heâs shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one.Â
âYouâre⌠attracted to me,â Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. âThe same way Iâm attracted to you.â
âAnd what makes you say that?â You hum.Â
âI thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,â He says timidly, nothing youâve seen from him before. âThought I shouldâve gone over to help, but I realised you were, umâ You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.â
âThe walls are thin, huh?â You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencerâs becoming shy at the thought. âDid youâŚ?â
His eyes grow wide. âDid I do what?â
You smirk. âThat tells me everything I need to know, Reid,â you say, laughing.
âWell, you shouldnât presumeââ
âShut up and kiss me, Reid,â you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his.Â
Itâs too perfect, when Spencerâs mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he canât believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like heâs starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.
âDid you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?â
âThis is better than I couldâve ever imagined,â Spencer says breathily. âYou⌠Youâre so attractive.â
âCould say the same about you,â you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. âSo, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?â
Spencerâs eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadnât expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. âI mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, umâ We should definitely talk about this though.â
âLater,â you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.
You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. âWow.â
âWow yourself,â you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. âNeed you to fuck me right now.â
Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. âIâll- Iâll do that.â
âGood,â you say, distracted as you admire Spencerâs frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. Heâs so hot you might die. âVery good.â
âIâm glad you like the view,â Spencer says, a little timid, like heâs shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame.Â
You smile up at him sheepishly. âPlease fuck me, Spencer.â
âOkay,â Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencerâs jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. âOh, my God.â
âYeah?â you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. âShow me how much you want me, too.â
Spencerâs hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You canât tear your eyes off of him â âSpencer, youâre⌠big.â
âAm I?â Spencer asks, and youâd lose your mind if you werenât expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out.Â
âYou are,â you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. âBut I can take you.â
Spencer grins. âGood.â
His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick thatâs leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you havenât felt from most partners before. âHowâs that?â
âSo nice,â you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until youâre comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal youâre being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then youâre thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.
Youâre panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. âYouâre perfect,â he whispers.Â
âFuck me, Spence,â you say.Â
Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. Heâs tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, âCome on, Spence.âÂ
His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencerâs length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.
âDoes that feel good?â Spencer asks softly, his voice tender.Â
âSo good, Spence,â you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.
You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that â a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what youâve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.
âFuck me,â you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling.Â
âYouâre so much better than I imagined,â Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. âCanât believe this is real.â
You clench around him just to hear him moan, and youâre proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.
âWhat- Oh, fuckâ What did you imagine? With me?â You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.
Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like heâs really contemplating if he should say this. âIâ I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, Iââ
You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, âIâ Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuckââ
âWhat? You thought of me that way too?â Spencer sounds incredulous, like he canât imagine you thinking of him that wayâ As if he isnât drilling you into the hotel bed right now.
âFuck, Spencerâ Oh, my Godâ Yeah, Iâ You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of themââ
âGod, youâre perfect,â Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You canât stop moaning Spencerâs name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure heâs giving you, the way heâs fucking you into the mattress. This is all youâve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take.Â
âPlease! Spencer, youâ Iâm gonna cum, I canâtââ You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you canât be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like youâre going to lose your mind.Â
âCum for me,â Spencer hums. âYouâre so perfect, and youâre laid out like this all for me. Youâre so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.â
Youâre sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencerâs filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. Itâs too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.
He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you donât care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.
The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe youâll talk about it when you get back home.Â
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencerreidenjoyer writes
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Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of readerâs race or skin tone.
summary: When youâre given the chance to run from your captor, you donât take it.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20âs and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of readerâs body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, donât be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesnât give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think thatâs it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.
PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.
word count: 8.6k
a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heartâs content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.
Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.
Or at least, thatâs what you hear them say.
That bitch doesnât do shit.
She never has to lift a fucking finger.
She should work for her mealâjust like the rest of us.
Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.
Insults grow a little bolder when heâs not around.
Useless.
Freeloader.
Leech.
You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for suppliesâbut you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing youâve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.
Hell, youâre doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because youâve seen what he does to them when heâs not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.
It doesnât make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.
âFuck, thatâs it.â
He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. âOh fuck, baby girl,â Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.
While he isnât fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, heâs hardly being gentle. Itâs hard, fast.
Loud.
Joel couldnât care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him onâit didnât hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.
His good girl.
You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.
âChrist, sweetheart. Mâso fuckinâ closeââ Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bedâs rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.
You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and itâs a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.
Itâs a fullness you canât seem to get enough of.
Itâs a craving, a need.
Worst of all, itâs slowly becoming a want.
âDaddy,â you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?
âFuck. Youâre doinâ so fuckinâ good for me, baby,â Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. âYâtake me so well, honey. Yâtake Daddyâs cock so fuckinâ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckinâ made for me. She was made jusâ for meâainât that right, angel?â
Heâs right.
Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.
It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.
Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.
All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.
âSay it,â Joel whispers his firm command. âWanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.â
âYes, Daddy,â you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. âMy pussy is made for you, justâjust for you. No oneâno one else. Only you.â Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?
Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after heâd spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.
Please, Daddy. More.
Joelâs grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. âReady, baby?â
Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. âOh,â you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.
His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his handâyouâre almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But youâre too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.
Heâs made you a needy, greedy girl.
âDaddy,â you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. âIâm gonna comeââ You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.
Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. âGive it to me, baby,â he grunts. âCâmon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.â
Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joelâs relentless, and youâre forced off of the ledge youâre both standing on first.
Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until heâs made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.
âFuckinâ Christ,â Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. âDown,â he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until youâre lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. âFuck! Fuck, fuckââ Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.
You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.
Heâs left behind an acheâyou feel painfully empty.
But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. âSheâs ovulating. Donât be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her toââ
âRelax,â heâd gruffed in response. âI fuckinâ know.â
Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. âGood girl,â he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. Youâre not quite sure what it is, only that itâs warm. Comforting. âYâdid so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.â
Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesnât see.
A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. âDaddy?â you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.
âWhat is it, baby girl?â
âDo youâdo you think we can go to the creek today?â
Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.
âIâd really like to wash up,â you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. Heâd boarded up the windows with slabs of woodâsometimes, if youâre lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.
âNot today, honey. Iâve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Donât have the time to take you.â He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joelâs eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. âPromise Iâll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?â
Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.
âOkay.â
Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.
He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you canât help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.
âI can take her.â
Joelâs dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. âWhat the fuck are you talkinâ about, Tess?â He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the groupâs best route to look her way.
âI heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,â she tells him. âI can take her.â
Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. âWhat?â
Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. âYou and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. Iâll stay behind and take her down to the creek,â she suggests casually, as if sheâs not asking him to trust her with his most prized possessionâthe only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. âOnce sheâs washed up, Iâll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.â
Joel stares at her, bewildered. âWhat makes you think Iâd fuckinâ allow somethinâ like that?â
âOh, come on.â She huffs and rolls her eyes. âAnytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, youâre on my fucking case about it, and now that Iâm offering to do something for her, you donât wanna let me?â
He shakes his head and lowers his voice. âYouâre talkinâ about takinâ her outside, Tess. Without me.â
âThe creekâs just a mile away,â Tess reminds him. âIâm pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.â When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. âWhat? You donât trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?â
Joelâs lips pull into a tight line.Â
Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.
He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tessâbut everything to do with you. He doesnât trust you. He will never trust you.
âWhat if she tries toâ?â He canât even say it.
âTries to what?â She pauses. âRun?â
His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.
Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. Youâve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.
Tess raises an eyebrow at him. âYou think Iâd even give her the chance? Besides, the girlâs not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldnât get very fucking far.â
âTessââ
âIâm just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for onceâthe company of a woman.â
Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, âYouâll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?â
âLong before then,â she swears. âAll in one piece.â
He hesitates. Heâs still not sure.
Itâs then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. âAlright,â he relents with a deep sigh. âI trust you, Tess.â
It always feels a bit strange to be outside.
But being outside without Joel?
It feels even stranger.
When heâd walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldnât believe. It hadnât even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.
âNever take your eyes off her,â heâd instructed her.
âSheâll behave.â She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. âIsnât that right?â
Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, âOf course.â
Sheâs the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.
âTess? W-Where are we going?â you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you donât sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like youâd been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoesâold, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly werenât made for hiking. âI donât remember the creek being this far from the cabin.â
Tess snorts. âDonât tell me youâre tired already.â
âItâs justâweâve been walking for a really long time.â
She glances over her shoulder at you. âHere I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,â she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.
âI am,â you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.
Silence falls over the both of you.
âWeâre not going to the creek,â Tess finally speaks after a minute. âIâm taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.â
It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. âIs that aâ?â Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.
The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldnât identify even if you triedâall you know is that itâs green, and itâs beautiful.
âThis is incredible,â you gasp.
âWay better than some little creek, huh?â Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. âHere.â
âWhatâs this?â
âWell, if youâd fucking open it, you would know,â Tess rolls her eyes. âItâs my last piece of soap. Itâs all yours.â
Her kind generosity comes as a surpriseâusually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you donât question it, and you certainly donât turn the rare luxury down.
âThanks,â you say, shooting her a grateful look.
Tess nods towards the body of water. âAlright, then. Go on and get to it.â
You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.
As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. âUh, arenât you going to turn around?â
âFor fuckâs sake,â she scoffs. âIâve got what youâve got. Now hurry up, we donât have all fucking day.â
Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older womanâs eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. Itâs so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.
Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, âYou have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.â
As she lights a cigarette, you canât help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. Thereâs never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.
Itâs an odd sensation deep in your gutâjealousy?
But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?
It shouldnât matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.
âAnyone ever tell you itâs fucking rude to stare?â Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.
Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. âTess? Can I ask you something?â
âWhat could you possibly fucking want to ask me?â
You hesitate.
âHowâhow long have you known each other?â
âWho?â Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. âMe and Joel?â
You nod. âYeah.â
She shrugs. âDonât know. Six, seven years?â
âHow did you two meet?â
âLong story thatâs none of your fucking business.â
You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. âHave you two everâ?â Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.
âHave we ever what?â Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what youâre trying to ask her. âYouâre seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?â
Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly donât expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.
âYeah.â She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, âFew times.â
Something unpleasant claws at your insides. âYou two were together? Like a couple?â
âSomething like that,â Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.
âWhat happened?â
She looks at you, pausing before answering, âYou.â
Oh.
Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, âQuit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. Youâve got eight minutes left.â
Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.
You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.
And it wanders straight to Joel.
Closing your eyes, you canât help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. âYeah, baby?â he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. âThis where yâneed me?â
Breathless, you respond, âItâs where I want you.â
Suddenly, your eyes snap open.
There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that youâre standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.
âTimeâs up,â Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. âHere.â
The rag doesnât exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.
Confused, you glance up at her.
âThereâs about a weekâs worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,â Tess explains, calmly. âAnd a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. Itâs not much, butââ
Frowning, you rise to your feet. âWhat are you talking about, Tess? Whatâs going on? Why are you giving me your pack?â
âBecause Iâm giving you a chance, kid.â
A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.
âA chance to what?â
âRun.â
Your heart stutters a beat. âRun?â
âHeâll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and donât fucking look back.â
All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.
âI can help you get a head start,â Tess offers, quietly. âI can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highwayââ
âBut what if I donât want to run?â
Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. âJesus,â she breathes, shaking her head in pity. âHeâs really got you fucking brainwashed, doesnât he?â
You glare at her. âI am not brainwashed, Tess.â
âYouâve gotta be if youâre telling me you wanna go back to him.â
âTessââ
She cuts you off. âHe gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,â she reminds you. âHe fucking slit your fatherâs throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.â
âHe takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. Heâhe cares about me.â You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. âNo. Iâm not running away, Tess. I want to go back.â
Tess sighs. âYouâre really not gonna make this easy, are you?â
âTake me back,â you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. âTake me back to the cabinâtake me back to him, Tess. I mean it.â
Amused, she huffs through her nose. âOr else what?â
âYou canât make me run away, Tess.â As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.
âActually, I can,â she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. âSo hereâs how this is gonna go. Iâm gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.â She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. âBelieve it or not, Iâm doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, heâs got you so fucked in the head that you canât see it.â
âTess, please,â you plead. âDonât do this to me!â
She begins to back away. âRemember when youâd say that to him? How youâd beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?â
âPlease, just take me back to him!â
You start to follow her.
âYou take one more fucking step and Iâll shoot you,â she threatens, her eyes darkening. âDonât think I wonât.â
Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.
Heâs furious. Livid.
Joel paces back and forth on the porch.
âWhere the fuck are they?â
The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joelâs younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
âChrist, Joel. Can you fuckinâ relax?â Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. âYouâre gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya donât cut that shit out.â He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. âYouâre gettinâ worked up over nothinâ, brother.â
âSâalmost sundown, and theyâre still not fuckinâ back.â Joel shakes his head. âFuckinâ knew I shouldnât have let Tess take her. Somethinâ happened, Tommy. I just know it.â He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. âMâgonna head to the creek myself to find âem. Ainât gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckinâ dark.â
âSheâs with Tess. Mâsure the girlâs fineââ Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. âWell, hell.â
âWhat?â
Tommy jerks his chin over Joelâs shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.
Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.
Both his mind and body go numb. Itâs a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that youâre not with her.
âJoel,â Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. âI need you to take a breath, alright?â
âWhereâwhere is she?â His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.
Not that Tess didnât already know you were Joel Millerâs weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetratedâyou would have been his downfall. As much as sheâd like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.
It needed to be done.
He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.
Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. âYou need to take a breathââ
Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.
Fear, worry, anger. Itâs the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. âWhere the fuck is she?â He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.
âJoel, take a fucking breathââ
âWhere. Is. She.â His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. Heâs vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.
âShe ran,â Tess explains, calmly. She doesnât falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. âShe ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.â
Behind him, Tommy snorts. âShe outran you?â
Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. âHer knees are a lot younger than mine,â she replies, flatly.
âWhich direction did she go in?â Joel demands. When Tess doesnât immediately respond, he shouts, âWhich fucking direction!â
Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, âWhat the hell does it matter which direction she went? You wonât fucking find her.â
His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.
Sheâs lying to him.
âTess.â Joelâs voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. âWhat did you do?â
âI didnât do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.â
Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. âNow, tell me why I have the feelinâ youâre not tellinâ me the whole truth?â
Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through togetherâhe would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?
Or maybe sheâd never meant anything to him at all?
Sheâs not sure which stings more.
âBecause youâve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,â Tess finally answers. âThatâs why.â
He ignores the burn of her scorching words.
âWhere the fuck is she, Tess?â
âIf sheâs smart, sheâs far away from here by now,â she hisses. âI did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? Thatâll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? Sheâs not an asset to the group, sheâs a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say weâre all fucking tired of hearing you raââ
Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. âListen to me. Youâve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, yâunderstand me?â
âOr what? Youâll blow my brains out?â Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not heâll actually pull the trigger. âGo ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.â
His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesnât pull it. He canât fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.
Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.
Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something sheâs never seen him do before. He begs.
âTess, tell me where she is,â he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. âPleaseâjust fuckinâ tell me where my girl is.â
Tess stands her ground and says nothing.
Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.
âOw, fuck!â
You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.
Youâd stepped on something sharpâa stick, or maybe a rock?
In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tessâ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadnât given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, youâd become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, youâve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.
Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.
Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given youâin the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.
Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those thingsâbut then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray youâll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?
Hell, maybe youâre overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldnât survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you thereâs wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasnât unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.
You recall your first few weeks in Joel Millerâs hands.
Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitableâbut back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. Youâd welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, youâd die with your freedom.
Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.
Youâre free.
You may very well die, but you would die free.
Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you downâheld you stillâas he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.
âJesus,â you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.
Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.
Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. Heâd defiled you in ways you hadnât known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.
A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.
Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?
You donât know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.
A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.
Itâs darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.
At first, you think itâs just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to seeâa hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize itâs Joel.
He stares at you in the same manner, as if heâs trying to figure out if youâre real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.
Once adamant that youâd never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.
âJoel?â Itâs the first time youâve ever uttered his name.
He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.
âJoel.â It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.
It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.
No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.
âBaby?â he whispers hoarsely. âSâthat really you?â
âJoel!â you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.
Joelâs gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of youâyouâre fucking real.
Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if youâre clinging onto dear, precious life itself.
âHush now, sâalright,â Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. âIâve got you, honey. Mâhere.â
âI swear I didnât want to run away,â you explain through your tears. âI begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out hereâshe said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!â
He squeezes you harder against his chest. âI do, baby. I do believe you,â he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. âYâhurt, sweetheart?â
âNo,â you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. âIâI thought Iâd never see you again. I was scared I wouldnât,â you admit, softly.
Joelâs thumb wipes away a fresh tear. âMâhere now,â he murmurs. âYouâre with me, baby. Youâre safe, alright?â As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.
Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surpriseâyou initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.
Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, youâve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and thatâs when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.
Youâre begging before he can even say a word. âPlease. I need youâI want you. Right now.â
You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.
âFuck.â Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. âNot yet, baby girl. Mâstill in charge, alright?â
Sheepishly, you nod.
âSay it.â His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.
âYouâreâyouâre in charge.â
âGood girl.â Joel guides you onto your back. Heâs over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. âBet sheâs already wet for me,â he mumbles into your skin. âAinât she, baby?â
Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.
Youâre drenched.
âCâmere,â Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. âSuch a fuckinâ needy little girl.â
Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. âJoel.â
âKinda like it when yâsay my name.â He starts making his way down the length of your body. âThink Iâll like it even better when youâre screaminâ it. Wonât I, baby?â
Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouthâhis tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. âOh fuck,â you gasp.
Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. âFuck, yâsmell so fuckinâ good.â
He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasnât even reached the spot where youâre aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.
Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. âSâthis where yâwant me, honey?â he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. âHm? Right here?â
âYes,â you breathe. âPlease, Joel.â
Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.
âFuck!â you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.
Joelâs tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens widerâa starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.
High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. âJoel, fuck,â you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the nightâthe chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.
Your body starts to tremble, and you know youâre close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, âNo.â He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.
Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.
Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at youâhis good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.
Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and drippingâit doesnât fully register what heâs doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.
âYâfeel that? Feel what you fuckinâ do to me?â
âJoel.â Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. âYour clothesââ
âStay on.â Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, âTell me what yâwant, pretty girl.â
Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.
You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.
âUse your words, sweetheart. Tell me what yâwant.â
âYou, JoelâI want you. Please, please, pleaseââ
He hushes you.
âIâve you, baby. Iâve got you,â Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and downâhe elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until heâs glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.
Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for moreâonly jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.
Joelâs cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. âSheâs always so fuckinâ sweet to me.â His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, âThatâs it, honey. Good fuckinâ girl.â
You melt around him at his praise.
Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. âAinât ever lettinâ you out of my sight again,â he swears. âAlright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Yâunderstand me?â He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. âDo you understand me?â
âNever,â you repeat, softly.
Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.
Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.
âThere yâgo.â Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. âThatâs it, baby. Good girl,â he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.
A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. âJoel!â
He grins in the darkness. He knew heâd like hearing you scream his name.
Joelâs hand settles on your leg thatâs over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. âYâgonna be a real good girl nâ give me another one?â
You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.
His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. âChrist. Takinâ it so fuckinâ well,â he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.
Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.
Youâre right there with him.
âJoelâfuck, Iâm gonna coââ
Youâre cut off by your own sharp gasp.
âThatâs it. Câmon, honey.â Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. âCâmon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cockââ
It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joelâs name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.
Within seconds, heâs swept away by the same tide.
âBaby,â he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, âMy sweet girl.â
Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.
You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest youâve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.
Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.
Youâre certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.
divider credit to @/saradika đ¤
for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!
#why yes#i AM going to queue this to post when i am dead asleep#captive!joel#dark joel miller#dark! joel miller#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#tw noncon#tw dark fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#fic: run
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Ëâşď˝ĄËâËlucky charm | LH44Ëâşď˝ĄËâË
pairing: lewis hamilton x fem y/n reader (she/her)
genre: social media au, age gap
warnings: age gap, brief mention of sex but barely
summary: in which you find love on your travels
a/n: me when i finally get a lewis request đđđ
request!!!: Lewis age gap insta au with Cindy kimberly face claim please
my masterlist
fc: cindy kimberly
instagram ->
carmenmmundt đ rome
liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and others
carmenmmundt when in rome... đŽđš
tagged: yourusername
view all comments
user1 so classy as always â¤ď¸
user2 where's georgeee
user3 who's that girl she's gorgeous wtf
user4 just her friend i think
georgerussell63 woww đđ
carmenmmundt oh stop it you!
lilymhe miss you babes!
carmenmmundt aww same, let's plan a trip soon đĽ°
lilymhe oh 1000%!!!
user5 i love wag friendships sm
lewishamilton looks like fun!
liked by carmenmmundt
user6 random
user7 perhapsâŚ
yourusername đ rome
liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, and others
yourusername ti amo, italia đđ¤â¤ď¸
tagged: carmenmmundt
view all comments
yourfriend1 where to next? đť
yourusername london! you coming?
yourfriend1 well actually........ đ
yourusername đđđđ
user8 omgg so cute
user9 carmen is so gorg
user10 y/n ur so beautiful wowwww
liked by yourusername
carmenmmundt miss you already â¤ď¸
yourusername take me backkk đŽđš
yourfriend2 as gorgeous as ever đ
yourusername ilyyy
yoursister so jealous omg looks amazing
yourusername you should come next time!!!
yoursister oh for sure
yourmother beautiful darling â¤ď¸
liked by yourusername
lewishamilton gorgeous pics! i love italy
yourusername one of my fav places to visit!
lewishamilton mine too!
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by yoursister, lewishamilton, and others
yoursister miss you!!!!
yourusername miss you babes
user11 so beautiful
liked by yourusername
user12 đđđ
liked by yourusername
yourfriend1 see you there x
yourusername omg i cant wait
lewishamilton no way! are you free to link up?
yourusername i could probably make some time for lunch?
lewishamilton yea! if that's not too much trouble
yourusername absolutely not! you can text me xx-xxx-xxx :)
lewishamilton đ
messages ->
twitter ->
instagram ->
lewishamilton đ london
liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and others
lewishamilton visiting home đ
view all comments
user17 omg??? soft launching already??????
user18 OMGGGG
user19 he loves her your honour
liked by carmenmmundt
user20 interesting interesting đ¤¨
user21 guys.....how old is she lol
user22 didnt even think about this
user23 she's in her 20s i fear
user24 âŚno comment
georgerussell63 whipped already
lewishamilton đ¤ˇââď¸ call me old fashioned
user25 yea old fashioned coz she's like 10 yrs younger than him đđđ
user26 đ violation
user27 not the classic age gap discourse abt 2 consenting adults...
liked by lewishamilton, yourusername
user28 them liking this đ they're already sick of it
user29 tbh she's cute as hell i love her lol
yourusername posted a story
liked by yourfriend1, carmenmmundt, and others
carmenmmundt miss you!
yourusername miss you babe
user30 oh to be friends with y/n
user31 still in london? đ¤¨
user32 feed us with bf lewis content đ
lewishamilton you have other friends? đ¤¨
yourusername we're friends?
lewishamilton we aren't?
yourusername well i think we've got our wires crossed here⌠đ
lewishamilton really? you free tonight? to uncross the wires, of course
yourusername for you? absolutely
lewishamilton pick you up at 7 x
messages ->
instagram ->
yourusername đ london
liked by carmenmmundt, yourfriend1, and others
yourusername pics i sent to my mother this week đ
view all comments
user33 oh god this is so cute
user34 is she lewis' gf?
user35 apparently
user36 the caption awww
user37 her mother? true coz she's so young đś
user38 đđđđ
user39 oh please đ
user40 the love note on the napkin... ur sick omg
user41 sooooooo dreamy oh my god
liked by yourusername
user42 awww y/n liked this comment đĽš
yourfriend2 been swept off your feet? đ
yourusername ask me again in a week
yourfriend2 đ trust me, i will
user43 OMG?
user44 how is she so gorgeous wow
user45 cant get past her being younger than me đ
user46 some of u guys are wayyy too obsessed with her age?? it's getting weird
liked by yourusername
user47 she liked this...
user48 yup she's sick of it too đ¤ˇââď¸
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by lewishamilton, yourfriend2, and others
user49 CUUUUUTE
user50 ugh lewis is so doting bf
user51 he adores u girl
user52 luckiest girl on the planet
carmenmmundt & where are you now, missy?
yourusername budapest babe
carmenmmundt BUDA WHERE?
yourusername hm? đ
carmenmmundt oh i will be seeing you this weekend
yourusername âŚ
twitter ->
instagram ->
yourusername posted a story
liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, and others
user58 oh my god đĽş
user59 WHAT THE HELL THIS IS SO CUTE
user60 we lost him folks
carmenmmundt oh i called it đ
yourusername shoo!!!
mercedesamgf1 đđ
liked by yourusername
user61 i love them omg
user62 the most gorgeous couple
lewishamilton đ budapest
liked by georgerussell63, yourusername, and others
lewishamilton back up on the podium, what a weekend!
tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1
view all comments
user63 AHHH he's whipped for her tbh
user64 omg two pics of her đ
carmenmmundt lucky charm!!!!
liked by yourusername
lewishamilton seems that way yea đŠˇ
georgerussell63 congrats man what a race đŤś
lewishamilton đđđ
user65 aww a roscoe appearance so cute
charles_leclerc congrats! sending love from leo to the both of you ;)
liked by yourusername
lewishamilton big love! â¤ď¸
user66 soooooo cute
oscarpiastri so honoured to share the podium with you this weekend lewis!! & so great to meet y/n of course
lewishamilton pleasure was all mine! will see you up there again im sure đĽ
yourusername â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
user67 WTFFFF
user68 so cute & supportive i love this sport
yourusername so proud đŤśđŤśđŤśđŤśđŤś
lewishamilton my lucky charm đ thanks for being there
yourusername oh im so honoured just to be invited!! you were amazing out there x
lewishamilton that's all i ever want to hear from uđ
yourusername đĽšđĽšđĽšđĽš
THE END đ
#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smau#lewis hamilton fanfic#lh44#lh44 smau#lh44 fanfic#team lh44#lh44 fluff#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lh44 fic#maddie's smau
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Simple Math / Part Eighteen
Simple Math masterlist
Ghost/Soap/female reader - AO3 - 3.1K words Tags: 18+ mdni. nurse!reader. Sexual content. Pregnancy and things that come with it. Brief mention of options in relation to termination of pregnancy. PTSD. Heavy emotions. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence and miscarriage, suicidal ideation. This is mostly inner monologue. Feelings of anxiety, despair, fear. This part is a little shorter due to its emotional nature.
Thereâs no oxygen.
No room for your lungs to expand, nothing for you to suck into your chest and relieve the ache blooming in your bones.
You drift, unmoored, a sailboat with no rudder, no engine to save you in an ocean without a breeze. All you can do is follow the current, the one leading you back to the dozen HCG strips buried in the bottom of a trash can, faint pink lines buried in the membranes and the matter of your brain.
The midwife that squeezed you in confirmed it all with a blood draw.
âYou have options.â
âI know.â
There are resources, and education for you⌠ though I know youâre probably aware.â
âYup.â
âDepending on your decisions, weâd like to see you in about two weeks for an eight-week ultrasound.â You gulp. The air is tragically thin in this room, and the paper crinkles under your uneasy weight. Â
âOkay.â
When Simon appears in the main lobby for the usual trek home, you barely hold back the urge to vomit all over his shoes. Your legs are weak, trembling with each step forward, and you hold his hand so tight, your bones ache.
Sensitive as always, he lingers alongside you in the quiet, biding his time before slicing through your silence. âWhat is it sweetheart?â
âHuh?â Youâre already on the front doorstep, memory of the entire trip evaporated.
âDo you still not feel well?â
âOh, yeah.â The lie is toxic, sludge stuck in your bloodstream, clogging your capillaries until they burst like fireworks. âItâs my stomach.â
âPenâs still under the weather too.â
âPoor thing.â The words are numb. Your mind is numb. Your body is a livewire and exhausted, all at once, the push and pull almost knocking you onto the floor. In the kitchen, Johnny wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in for a kiss, but nothing registers.
âMaybe you should get some rest.â
âYeah.â Autopilot. Thatâs the gear youâre in. Going through the motions, trying to hold yourself together, keep your head above water.
Is this real?
Is this happening?
What will they say?
What will they think?
âBunny?â Johnnyâs thumb is on your carotid, where your pulse beats. Where your heart pushes blood through your circulatory system, flowing to a presence now fluttering inside you.
One plus one equals two.
âSorry, yeah. Think Iâm gonna go up, take a nap.â
âYell if ye need anything, aye?â All you can do is nod.
You gravitate towards the guest room before you can stop yourself. Itâs as you left it, bed made, sheets crisp, remnants of your things separated into easily sorted piles. In the nest of blankets, itâs easy to pretend. Easy to imagine the bed as a cloud of cotton candy, so high in the sky, above the earth, above this⌠this thing that is happening.
An embryo. Something two millimeters long, siphoning its existence from yours.
That tiny sliver of hope is nowhere to be found, replaced now with logical, realistic questions.
Can you sustain a pregnancy, after the damage inflicted during the last one?
Can you carry one to viability?
Can you mentally, emotionally, physically handle a pregnancy?
An infant?
And what about them?
What about you?
You think about the times you wanted to die. The moments you sat in the shower, streams of red running to the drain, a clump of cells you never knew draining from your body with each second.
A loss you never knew youâd mourn. Something stolen. Something slipping through your fingers, handfuls of sand blown away by a sea breeze.
The overwhelming feeling of drowning every time you laid on the floor in a broken heap, synapses misfiring, making wrong connections, desperately trying to latch onto anything normal, anything sane. Staring at the ceiling, slow flow of blood dripping down your throat, left wondering if this will be it, this will be the moment it goes too far. Your spine will snap. Youâll take a blow to the head strong enough to render you unconscious, permanently. Your windpipe will be crushed, closing in on itself, starving your brain of oxygen. In those moments, you could only hope.
Youâre grateful, at least, that you donât feel like that now.
In a cocoon on a cusp of hazy sleep, youâre cradled to a chest, jostled lightly until blankets are tucked back up around your shoulders and snuggled between two warm bodies, a gentle hand cupping your cheek.
âOur sweet girl,â Simon murmurs in the dark, âweâre here. Whatever it is, we have you.â
A dream.
You sleepwalk through life. One week turns to two, and then three. Three weeks turn to four, and more, before you know it, youâre twelve weeks pregnant, still going through the motions, robotically making your way through each day. Youâre shoving the waterfall of feelings and emotions so deep, so far away, theyâre likely to never see the sun again.
You lock them in a box.
You bury it in a grave, six feet under.
At work, youâre grateful you know your job inside and out, because youâre mostly just going through the motions. The only time you show any sign of life is when your boss tries to float you to the NICU. When you dig in your heels, repeatedly denying the request, she finally gives up and moves onto a new unsuspecting victim.
Better them than you.
At home, its worse. You donât know if youâre imagining the tension or if its truly there, eggshells crumbling beneath your feet, words turned to ash. Youâre a marionette, fate pulling the strings, tearing the joints of your limbs in a million directions.
They can tell. They read you too well, but youâre not so easily swayed. Simon tries to coax it gently; Johnny tries to bluntly force it out. Both tactics fail, but they themselves stay steady, and true, holding you in the night, soothing you with touch and whispers, loving you through it all.
During the day, they coddle you. Johnny massages your shoulder, tips your chin back until your skull rests on collarbone, dots kisses all over your skin. He tugs you onto the patio, curls up on the outdoor loveseat with you under a big blanket, your head in his lap, telling you stories about his childhood, his parents. He makes you giggle by reminiscing of all the times he chased Simon around at work, how Kyle fell out of a helicopter, how they had to wear suits for an undercover op one time and Simon's ripped right down the ass.
Simon cooks, all your favorites, things you forgot he pays attention to, and spoons you on the couch, big arm like a safety net stretched across your chest to keep you close. He brings tea to bed, reading until your eyes close, calming your mind enough to lull you to sleep.
Even at night, they treasure you like glass. Johnny lays on his stomach, thumbs rubbing circles into your thighs, parting them, backs of his knuckles tracing over the seam of your pussy, coaxing your arousal, taking his time. He licks your clit so slowly its torture, all the while Simon tugs your knee as wide as he can, hand fisted in the mohawk, kissing you from shoulder to neck, over and over.
You beg them to fuck you hard, harder than youâve ever asked for it before. Johnny jumps at the idea, but Simon kills it immediately.
âNo,â he traces a line over the curve of your ass to the creases of your thighs, âthatâs not going to happen, sweetheart. Not until you tell us whatâs going on.â You opt to bury your face in his chest instead and ride Johnnyâs hand as Simon coaches, telling you how good you are, how lucky they are, how much you mean to them.
If only they knew. Would they still feel the same?
Itâs more than you deserve, you think. More than you know how to handle. The guilt piles onto your shoulders. Youâre carrying a life, a life you created with them, a life they should know about.
The decisions waiting in the wings haunt you at every turn.
What should you do? What will you do?
You should tell them. They should know.
Why are you keeping this a secret?
The time is passing too fast, and with it, your panic increases, forcing your back to bow, hands clutching at your legs, head hanging heavy to the floor. At work in the closet, at home the moments youâre alone, the agony steals your breath, heart shredding to pieces. It overcomes you, floods your nervous system until the world spins.
In the shower, you fall apart, truly, knees slamming into tile, your shoulders slumped against the wall.
Itâs hard to tell youâre crying with water streaming over your face.
You lose your shit the day Penny crawls across the couch to cuddle you.
She pulls herself up onto your belly, her head resting on your chest, chubby hands fisted in your shirt.
âBunny wead?â She wants a story, a routine the two of you enjoy together, turning the pages of a childrenâs book and acting out all the voices. Sheâll squeal with glee, her laughter full of excitement, and youâll tickle her sides while pretending to eat her foot.
It makes you both happy, but today, it splits your soul in two.
You burst into tears. She jolts back, looking up into your face, little brow furrowed in confusion, mouth shocked into a circle.
âBunny.â She pats your cheek, alarmed, and you skim your nose across the top of her head, breathing her deep, anchoring your arm around her back. Sheâs starting to get upset, too perceptive, too empathetic, already expressing the traits of both her parents. You try to soothe her distress.
âItâs alright.â Your voice cracks on the promise, her nose pressed to your throat. âItâs alright, Penny. Iâm sorry. Everythingâs okay.â Johnnyâs unmistakable gait sounds on the stairs, still slightly off balance, and you hastily wipe your face, forcing your eyes to his as he approaches the couch.
âWhatâs wrong?â He sees it immediately, and you shake him off with another lie, so many little white ones rotting into blinding despair.
âI had a bad day at work yesterday, thatâs all. Just still trying to process it.â His head cocks.
âYe sure?â
âYeah, promise. Iâll be fine.â
The tide changes at work.
A man lies in a medically induced coma, barbiturates keeping him in the dark, a suspended state of uncertainty. His wife waits, and waits, fixes her too keen eyes on you every time she sees you, waiting for an update, good news, anything. Anything that could bring her peace.
On the second day of your work week, your steps stutter at the sight of her sitting bedside, a baby in her arms, gentle words floating between them.
âWeâve moved onto ba now, for a bottle, which is just crazy,â she murmurs, a hand under her cheek, wiping away tracks of tears, âand I think heâs too big for me to carry around at this point.â Thereâs a wet chuckle, and the baby tips forward, smacking his hand on his dadâs. âIs that daddy?â She bounces him, quiet as he babbles and gurgles, his eyes wide at the sights and sounds in a hospital room.
You clear your throat. She startles.
âOh god, sorry⌠I didnât see you there.â
âItâs okay,â Intruding on private moments is not uncommon, though here it feels different. âI just need to check on some things and then Iâll be out of your hair.â She nods, and outside of the babyâs noises, the room is silent until she breaks it with a whisper.
âI know thereâs probably no chance he can hear me,â her fingers stroke through his hair, a pained look on her face, âbut I like to believe he can.â
âThereâs no definitive research that he canât,â you tell her softly, carefully going about your work to avoid disturbing them.
âI hope he can hear the baby. Heâs⌠heâs missed so much already, you know?â She sniffles, tears freely falling, and your heart clenches. âWeâre broken without him; Iâm broken without him. Heâs my family, my everything. I canât⌠weâre not supposed to be apart. This wasnât supposed to happen.â
You have thick skin. Youâve seen countless people die. Consoled hundreds of family members. Held hands with patients taking their last breath.
This shouldnât bother you. It shouldnât affect you in any way, but when you look at your patient, and his partner, and his child-
All you can see is your boys and their unconditional love. Simon sitting vigilant at Johnnyâs bedside. Johnnyâs tears when he finally woke up. The fear in Simonâs eyes when Johnny seized, the trust he placed in your promise to take care of him. Penny in his arms as soon as he was strong enough to hold her. Their resolve to hold their family together, their dedication to you through it all. The three of them, a family, now yours, spun together with string stronger than steel, connecting the four of you for the rest of your life.
Youâll make it through. Youâll all make it through. You have their love shining down on your face. The love strong enough to hold you tight, rock you through your nightmares, encourage you to grow, to be yourself, to let it all go.
And they have you. Your love. Something you never thought would exist again, fostered and enticed forward, magnified for them. For the first time, youâre able to give to someone, to comfort them, care for them the way they have for you, hold them tight through their pain, their fears. Itâs never felt soâŚ
right.
Itâs not one plus one. Itâs five. Five hearts, making a family.
You know, without a doubt, theyâll love this baby. They wonât leave your side. Theyâll take care of you, theyâll nurture you both, theyâll be solid, and supportive, and patient through it all.
You donât need them to say it, and you donât need to be scared.
Their light soothing your despair, healing the deep embedded scars, their warmth of the sun-
The little sunbeam growing inside you.
âYouâre a few weeks late.â The midwife shakes her head as you settle on the exam table. You showed up in a whirlwind again, convincing her to fit you in between appointments.
âI know, I⌠I was struggling with it, but I feel better now. Iâm⌠ready.â Your lips quirk at the corners, and she smiles in return.
âShould we take a look then?â You nod with a deep breath.
The jelly is cold, and she purposefully keeps the screen turned away from you, clicking, measuring, assessing in silence. It's standard policy for any employee or medical professional. Though you're not an ultrasound tech, it's not outside the realm of possibility that you could read the image on the screen before she can tell you gently that something is wrong.
Your past haunts you, taunts you, convinces you this has all been for nothing. Youâre too damaged for this. Your body is broken. He took too much.
Still, you hope. You cling to a future, a vision, Penny holding the baby with Johnnyâs arms supporting her, Simon half asleep with a burp cloth on his shoulder, little one asleep on his chest.
âAlright,â she turns it back for you to see, her expression colored with kindness. âEverything looks great, honey.â
âEverything?â
âYes. Placenta is in optimal position, and baby is right on track developmentally for twelve weeks.â She twists a knob, the volume, filling the room with sound of galloping hoofbeats.
The heartbeat.
âOh my god.â Your hand clasps over your mouth and you desperately try to bring air in through your nose, filling your diaphragm, staving off a river of tears unsuccessfully. She hands you a tissue.
âIâll get you some printouts, okay?â You canât do anything but choke on a thank you.
You slip away after your appointment, crossing through the halls leading to the out-patient wing where youâll find Johnny in physical therapy, Simon in a chair scrolling through his phone just outside. The smile stretches across your face naturally, joy bursting at the seams. Â
It's a new day, a new moment to turn away from the darkness and step into the sun.
Youâre nearly skipping, heart so full, overflowing with hope, with happiness, your hands trembling, pictures of the scan clutched in your fingers. You hold them so tight, close to your chest, afraid they may disappear, be lost.
In hindsight, the crippling agony and fear youâve been holding in seems so foolish now. Itâs easy to curse yourself for the doubt, for the despair, but the path you took to get here, to be present in this moment, moving forward, was worth it.
They love you, and theyâll love little sunbeam. Penny will be the best big sister. Youâll make new memories, together, build the beginning of this life into a forever. Everything will work out; you can feel it now. Youâve shed the dented armor, the walls, the fence topped with barbed wire. The girl in the mirror, gone. Itâs all crumbled down. With Johnny. With Simon. Your family.
A family of five.
You round the corner with your hands knitted together, a flimsy effort to still them, elated and barely able to hold your secret in. You wonât be able to do a cute announcement, wonât be patient enough to do something special like get Penny a shirt that says, âbest big sisterâ even though youâd like to.
Youâve kept it from them for long enough. You need them to know.
You look for Simon first, expecting him to be waiting outside the door, but when he's not there, you glance around, and then peek into the observation window to find the physical therapy room empty.
Where are they? Where-
Theyâre at the end of the hall, talking to someone out of sight. Simon has his arms crossed, his body angled partially in front of Johnny, who shifts his weight onto his good leg. Theyâre both wearing serious expressions, Simonâs the most severe, and then Johnnyâs lips twist into a grim sort of smile.
Whoever theyâre talking to steps forward, and your heart burns into ash, falling through the floor to bottomless depths of darkness.
Phillip.
#lmao#peaches writes#simple math#ghoap x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#ghost x reader
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not mad
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
description: you do something stupid, and you wonder why spencer isn't mad.
tags: fluff and (a little hurt? and) comfort, established relationship, minor descriptions of violence and injury, brief mention of a gun, no use of y/n, reader is anxious and a little lost lol, spencer's a sweetheart, derek morgan makes an appearance, spencer praises readers judgement and sweet sweet fluff ensues, ending could be perceived as innuendo but i think it becomes a tickle fight.
a/n: my first ever fic.... kinda nervous.... the neck kiss in the bathroom was lightly inspired but the neck kiss in normal people iykyk, i hope you enjoy this!!
wc: 1k
you lean forward over the sink to inspect your face. a deep crimson cut on your cheekbone the object of your surveyal, you lightly graze your finger over it and the bruised skin surrounding it. you wince at the memory of how you got it.Â
âyou okay sweetheart?â morgan had asked, walking up to you and the medic cleaning up your wound. you gave him a reassuring smile âyeah, im okay.â your gaze drifted over to a distressed looking spencer deep in conversation with hotch, no doubt talking about your recklessness. âhes madâ you stated, looking back at derek who was looking at sympathetically. âyeah, well youâve got quite a gash.â you chuckled lowly and muttered out a quiet âyou should see the other guyâ. you were rewarded with a hearty laugh from the man in front of you, âalright i see youâ he concurred before his expression turned solemn, dropping a hand on your shoulder âhe loves you; he was worried about you. we all were.â
his words took you back to the event in question, you had rushed into a witnesses house with no backup after hearing a scream and a loud thud. you were greeted with a swift blow to the face, causing you to keel over but you recovered fast. you managed to slam the barrel of your gun, hand still loosely wrapped around it, into the unsubs head before he could do anymore damage, detaining him quickly, but you were still at fault and felt bad.
he gave your shoulder a squeeze and you pouted, mouthing an âim sorryâ. he gave you a small shake in response, prompting a small giggle to bubble up from your lips. the sound caught spencers attention and he made his way toward you. derek gave his friend a pat on the shoulder and pointed âdont be too hard on herâ look before leaving. you looked up at your boyfriend with guilt-ridden eyes only to be met with a small smile. âlet's go home.â
to say you were confused would be an understatement. you had done something incredibly stupid and the entire ride over spencer hadnât given you an ounce of shit for it, you sure would've had the roles been reversed. he carried your bag and ran you a bath as soon as you got home, placing pyjamas- his caltech t shirt and a pair of black shorts- on the counter for you to change into.
after scrutinising the wound a bit more, you pick up your toothbrush and toothpaste. a soft knock comes from the door. âcome inâ you call out. you look over your shoulder to see spencer walking in sheepishly. he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, leaning down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. you instinctively tilt your head to give him more access, and he smiles against your skin.Â
you meet his eyes in the reflection, chewing your lip anxiously. he takes note of this and spins you around to face him. he slowly frees your bottom lip from between your teeth with his thumb. âwhat's wrong?â he inquires gently, his thumb moving gently across your chin. you frown, âyou're not mad.â you respond feebly, more an observation than a question. he smoothes out the lines between your eyebrows, âdo you want me to be mad?â âno- yes- i justâŚâ he crooks his eyebrows at you expectantly. you slump back on the counter in exasperation, spencers arms holding you up while you find your words. âyou should be mad. i was stupid. you should yell at me, give me the silent treatment. you should shut me out. you dont- you shouldn't⌠be this niceâ you ramble out remorsefully, frown adorning your face again. âdo you want me to do all those things?â he suggests, hands moving down to your hips. âyes, you should.â you reiterate. he has an annoyingly contented expression on his face, âwell, i don't want to.â he responds plainly, sure of himself. âwhy not?â you plead, eyes searching his, wondering where all this cool is coming from.Â
he gives your hips a gentle squeeze and tugs you out of the bathroom, leading you to sit on the edge of the bed. he takes a seat next to you and intertwines his hand in yours, deciding that constantly touching you will remind you that he loves you. âyou really wanna know why i'm not mad?â he offers to which you timidly nod, âi trust you, angel. sure, i was a little mad talking to hotch but he took me off that ledge and reminded me that you are a brilliant,â he emphasises this with a kiss to your cheek âand skilled agent, and that you made the right callâ you bashfully smile at your lap âyou were stupid, yesâ at that you look up at him offended, even though you called yourself stupid minutes ago, he continues. âbut you saved that girls life and you took down an unsub on your own without so much as a cut and a bruise and you caught the guy we've been after for a week, i'm not mad. i'm proud of youâÂ
he tilts his head town to meet your eyes that were once again staring at your lap. you tentatively meet his eyes and he smiles at you. you can't help but smile back as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him in for a hug. he lets out an amused huff through his nose as he wraps his arms around you in return. âi love you.â you mumble into his hair. he squeezes you as he reciprocates fondly, âi love you too, silly girl.â
you pull away all too reluctantly and climb onto his lap, straddling him. âyou're too nice yâknow that?â you tease, hands planted on his shoulders. his eyes glisten mischievously and he grasps your waist firmly likehe'sgoingtoflipyouover âoh yeah? i'll show you nice.â
m.list
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#fluff#comfort#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid oneshot#derek morgan#spencer reid x y/n#divider from cafekitsune
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in your hands | jason todd
Summary: Jason thinks he's too big to be loved. You show him that that's impossible.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!readerÂ
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings/tags: bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.
A/N: as always, if you like this fic, tell me through comments and reblogs :)
the divider
Tonight, Jason comes home far away.
You clock it as soon as he walks in. Heâs moving on autopilot: boots by the door, helmet on the shelf, gear in the closet. He washes his hands, hangs up his jacket, and then he stands at the doorway. And waits.Â
Youâre never quite sure what heâs waiting for. But you know that heâll stay stuck in his head if you donât step in.Â
âHey, baby,â you say, cupping his cheeks. âHey. You wanna eat or clean up first?â
The change is instant. As soon as you touch him, Jason is there. Youâve never mentioned it to him. It frightens you too much to explore, knowing that youâre his tether. You donât want to think about what that means, having the power to anchor a man who used to be dead.
He looks at you, meets your gaze head-on.
âDid I disappear?â he whispers.
âLittle bit. Itâs okay.â
You keep stroking his cheeks, avoiding his shaving cuts and the freshly split lip. Thereâs a bruise around his eye and on his temple.Â
âWanna wash up,â he finally says, but his hands cling to your waist.Â
You pet the back of his neck. âWant me to go with you?âÂ
âPlease?â He glances at the kitchen. âBut if youâre in the middle âf something, thenââ
âNo, Jay. Câmon.â
You take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. Jason undresses while you draw a bath. Soon the bathroom starts to fog up with steam. You pour in some Epsom salts for his muscle achesâyou know he should soak more than he does.Â
You turn off the faucet. Jason is in his boxers, staring at himself in the mirror. He picks at his autopsy scar, presses the puckered white flesh until it turns red.Â
âJay,â you say gently. âCâmere, honey.â
His hands drop to his sides. Jason goes to the bath, pulls off his underwear, and sinks into the water. Itâs a generously-sized tub. Jason had gotten his old tub replaced for a larger one after youâd mentioned that you liked baths. Soon enough, youâd introduced him to the wonders of hot baths for his sore muscles.Â
Even with its size, Jason still has to bend his knees slightly to fit. He pushes himself up easily. A little water sloshes over and dampens the edge of your shirt. Jason curses.
âSorry,â he says, shaking his head.Â
âItâs okay, honey. You want me to come in?â
He nods. You pull off your shirt, then your pants and underwear. Jason folds in on himself to make room, but you stop him.
âIâll just sit between your legs, Jay. No problem.â
You step into the bath. Jason holds your wrist so you can sit down without slipping. He stares at his hand on your arm after youâve sat.Â
You reach over for a washcloth and pour a lightly-scented soap. You lather it up first, then rub it over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Jason is perfectly still.Â
âCan you lean over, baby? So I can get your back.â
Jason obediently leans over. You smile at him as he holds himself up with his core. You know Jasonâs not just strong, that heâs agile too. Heâs very good at wielding his body.
You wash his back. This close, you can see the contours of his muscles, how broad he is.Â
When youâre done, you wring the soap out of the cloth and cup water in your palms to rinse the suds off of his skin. You catch his gaze in the mirror across the tub. Jason turns his head.
âGod, look at me. How are you not afraid every time I come stompinâ around?â
You stop pouring water and rest your hands on Jasonâs biceps. âWhat do you mean?â
He scoffs. âIâm like a huge, fuckinâ... monster. Too big, too loud. Iâmââ He swallows, bows his head. âHow can you look at me?â
âJay, honey. Youâre not a monster.â
âBruce thinks so,â he whispers, and straightens. âHe can barely look at me. Every time he does, âs like he doesnât even recognize me.â
His hand quietly swishes through the water to claw at his autopsy scar.Â
âThis is all I am. Just violence. âM too big for anything else.â
You squeeze your eyes shut and pull his head into your chest. Jason hugs you back. His shoulders begin to shake.Â
âYouâre more than your body,â you say. âYouâre more than what the Pit made you. What you were.â
He shakes and cries into your neck. âI was small. People loved me when I was small.â
You pick up his head. Jasonâs eyes are thick with tears. You lean in and kiss his Cupidâs bow.
âI love you.â You brush away his tears with your lips. âI love you so much, Jay. Thatâll never change.â
âToo big for it,â he rasps.
You shake your head. âNo, Jaybird. Youâre never too big to be loved.â
âIâm s-scary.â
You kiss his temple, rub between his shoulder blades. Jason clings tighter.
âYou donât scare me. You never have.â
He pulls you closer, so youâre chest-to-chest. You straddle his stomach with your legs and hug Jason as tightly as you can.Â
âI was good when I was small,â he says. âI donâtâI donât know how to be good anymore. I wanna be good, I do. I donât want Bruce to think Iâm bad. Iâm still good.â
You take a deep, shuddering breath. âOh, Jay. Baby. You are good. You came back to make a change. Youâve always been good. Youâve got a good heart. Nothingâs going to change that. Bruce is stubborn and stuck in his head. But youâll always be his son. And youâll always have people who love you.â
âWhat if Iâm not worth it?â he whispers. âWhat if Iâm too lost?â
âThen Iâll go out and find you. And weâll come home together,â you say. âYouâll always find your way back home.â
He smells like soap and Epsom salts. You kiss his autopsy scar. Jason shakes more.Â
âLet me wash your hair, baby,â you say.
He nods, tears on his lashes. You wet his hair and pour shampoo. You rest your lips on his cheek as you lather the shampoo, detangling tiny knots with your fingers. Jason bends at the waist so you can rinse off the soap with the faucet.
You tap his hip and Jason sits up. He slips his arms around you again and tucks his chin into your neck.
âDonât let go,â he says, suddenly desperate. âDonâtâdonât let me go.â
âI wonât, Jay. Iâm right here.â
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd angst#fluff#soft jason todd#batman fanfiction#dc fanficton
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It's Coming From Inside the House
For the @steddie-spooktober day 5 prompt: "Did you hear that?" Rated: T | Words: 2472 | CW: panic attack, mentions of recreational drug use | Tags: Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington friendship, pre-relationship, sorta, Eddie Munson being an asshole, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, he has the range, Steve Harrington has PTSD, post season 2, pre season 3 Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics
Now look, Eddie has never claimed to be the worldâs nicest guy. Heâs often claimed the opposite, in fact, in the name of getting shithead bullies and jocks to leave him and his alone.
And Harrington is no saint, either. Sure, heâs turned over some kind of new leaf since last year, ditching the assholes he used to hang out with and mostly keeping to himself (particularly since November, when his busted face had been the talk of Hawkins High), but heâs been part of enough sportsball-related hazing rituals for Eddie to assume he can at least take a joke.
Anyway, the point is, when heâs given occasion to realize that King Steve seems to be afraid of the dark, Eddie isnât quite able to resist the urge to poke at him. Just a little.
Heâs got Harrington in his trailer, just dropping by for a late-night transaction, and theyâve got an unexpected spring storm raging outside. It had just blown in, heavy winds and rain and all, surrounding the trailer with the sound of natureâs howling fury, and Harrington already seems on edge (probably why he needs the weed, really).
And then the lights flickerâ
Flickerâ
Flickerâ
And cut out.
Both Eddie and Harrington freeze, plunged into darkness cut only by the frequent flashes of lightning.
âWhat just happened?â Harrington asks, his voice gone tight.
âSeems like the power went out,â Eddie snarks, because that much should be obvious. âProbably the wind. The grid isnât as secure out here where itâs only us poor people.â
Harrington has no comeback, which is a little disappointing. Heâs so quiet that the only way Eddie can tell heâs still there at all is because he can see him illuminated by brief lightning strikes.
Eddie sighs and starts shuffling in the direction of the kitchen. âGimme a minute, I think weâve got an old camping lantern somewhere.â
He bangs his knees on just about every object he walks past, swearing up a storm, but he finally makes it to the kitchen and feels around in the cabinets for the lantern he hopes is still there. He knocks over a few pots and pans in the process, but finally â success!
Eddie gropes for the switch on top of the lantern as he pulls it from the cabinet, praying that the battery inside is still good, and flinches and blinks the sparkles from his eyes when the thing lights up about six inches from his face.
Illumination acquired, Eddie uses it to find the junk drawer and pull out the flashlight they keep inside (mightâve been easier to find that first, instead of knocking into all the cookware, now that Eddie thinks on it), and then heads back to where heâs left Harrington standing in the living room.
âLet there be light,â he says, holding up the old lantern in victory.
Harrington, again, says nothing. He looks pale in the light of the lantern, nearly frozen where he stands, staring out the window. He almost reminds Eddie of a frightened rabbit, eyes wide and body locked up in a fight, flight, or freeze response heavily weighted in favor of the third option. And if heâs the rabbit, Eddie is like nothing so much as the wolf, ready to sink his teeth in.
Just a little. Just as a joke, thatâs all.
As he places the camping lantern on the table, he pauses and cocks his head, pretending to listen.
âHey,â he says quietly, and Harrington finally turns to look at him. âDid you hear that?â
âHear what?â Harrington rasps, eyes darting back towards the window.
âI donât know, it was⌠like sort of a scratching sound? Itâsâ There!â Eddie jumps, playing at being startled. âThere it was again, did you hear it?â
Harrington swallows heavily, shaking his head. âI donât hear anything, are you sureââ
âI think itâs coming from the door,â Eddie hisses, voice gone low, nearly covered by the steady roll of thunder.
Harrington whirls back around, looking at the shadowed shape of the door where it sits just outside the halo of light the little lantern is throwing out.
âWhat if somethingâs trying to get in?â Eddieâs practically whispering now, low and dramatic. âShould weâ should we check?â
Slowly, Harrington nods. âIâll check,â he says, and he sounds so resolute about it, so resigned, like heâs agreeing to go off to war, that Eddie has to bite down on a laugh. So fucking serious, this guy.
âIâm right behind you,â Eddie says, though Harrington barely seems to register when Eddie sidles up at his back.
They cross from where theyâd been standing by the coffee table and over to the door, standing in front of it as another crack of thunder booms overhead. Harrington reaches for the handle.
âGo ahead,â Eddie breathes, raising his arms. âIâm⌠right⌠BEHIND YOU!â
As he shouts, he grabs Harrington around the middle, digging his fingers into his sides almost like heâs trying to tickle him, and holy shit, Harringtonâs reaction does not disappoint. He jumps and jerks like heâs just been electrocuted, letting out a strangled yell as he pulls away from Eddie, whirling around to face him, and Eddie canât help itâ he laughs.
Like, not a cruel laugh, just the laugh of a prank successfully pulled off.
âI canât believe you actually fell for that!â he wheezes out around his giggles.
And Eddie isnât fully ignorant to the idea that there are consequences for his actions; heâs pretty sure at this point Harrington is going to start yelling, maybe start swinging, almost definitely cussing Eddie out â except he doesnât.
He doesnât actually do anything. Heâs just standing there, eyes blown wide, one hand clenched over his chest while he almost heaves for breath.
ââŚHarrington?â Eddie tries, as his laughter dies away. âHey. You good?â
Harrington doesnât reply. Eddieâs not even sure heâs seeing him right now; his gaze looks glassed over in the low light, staring at something in the middle distance that Eddie canât see. Itâs kind of freaking Eddie out.
âHarrington. Hey. Can you hear me?â Eddie reaches up to wave a hand in front of Harringtonâs face, and the reaction is immediate.
He jumps again, swearing and stumbling backwards until he hits the wall by the door with a hard thump, where he slides down into a sitting position on the floor, knees pulled up in front of him and arms wrapped around his middle. Heâs still breathing hard, and his eyes are darting around the trailer, still looking for something, but fucked if Eddie knows what.
And fuck. Shit, Eddie feels like an asshole, heâs just given Harrington some kind of full-blown panic attack. Shit.
âHarrington,â he says, trying to sound firm and reassuring even though he has no goddamn idea what heâs doing as he crouches down in front of the guy. âListen, thereâs nothing to be scared of, man, it was just me being a dick.â
Harringtonâs eyes flick in Eddieâs direction, but Eddieâs not all that convinced heâs registering what Eddieâs saying.
âOkay, Iâm gonna â just a second.â Eddie holds a finger up and stands again, darting over to the coffee table to grab the lantern and, almost as an afterthought, the flashlight. âOkay, here we go,â he says, kneeling in front of Harrington and placing the lantern between them. âDo you wanna hold the flashlight? Would that help?â
Heâs barely held the flashlight up for Harrington to take when the other boyâs fingers are wrapping around it, nearly jerking it out of Eddieâs hand. He flicks it on and sweeps the beam around the room, nearly blinding Eddie at least twice in the process.
âSee?â Eddie says once Harringtonâs performed as much of an inspection of the place as he can from his position on the floor. âNothing here. Just you, me, and the storm.â
This doesnât seem to be as reassuring as Eddie would have hoped; Harrington is still on the hysterical edge of hyperventilating, flashlight clutched in one fist and the other hand clenching his jacket where itâs still wrapped around his middle.
âHarrington. Steve,â Eddie tries, and he finally gets a long enough look from Harrington that he thinks he must actually be hearing him. âYouâve gotta breathe, man. Deeper breaths, câmon. I donât want you passing out on me.â
And it looks like maybe heâs trying, but the air keeps stuttering back out of his lungs before he can hold it for long. He shakes his head, and Eddie bites his lip, thinking.
âHere. Iâm just gonnaâ donât freak out again, okay?â Slowly, Eddie reaches for Harringtonâs free hand, and with an air of confusion, Harrington lets him take it, unwrapping his fingers from where theyâre clutched in his jacket and letting Eddie pull until his palm is pressed flat against Eddieâs chest. âCopy me, okay? In⌠and out.â
Exaggerating his breaths, Eddie takes big gulps of air, in and out, and waits for Harrington to follow suit â and after a few long moments, he manages it.
Slowly, his breathing deepens out, no longer coming in quick, shallow gasps, and his posture seems to deflate as it does. He sags back against the wall, the flashlight still clutched tight in his fist, and lets his head fall back.
âBetter?â Eddie asks.
Harrington shrugs. He flinches at the next flash of lighting, and Eddie squeezes his hand, which he is, for some reason, still holding.
âJust the storm,â Eddie says, and Harrington shoots him a vaguely bitchy look that feels a lot more on par with how he should be acting.
He doesnât take his hand back, though, so Eddie just keeps holding it.
He holds it and he talks, trying to drown out the rumbles of thunder that are growing more and more distant, trying to distract from the flashes of lightning that seem to be distressing Harrington more than anything else, trying to make up for the fact that heâd caused this whole mess in the first place. And Harrington seems to listen, watching him with eyes half-lidded in exhaustion, even cracking a tiny smile a few times, when Eddie gets particularly animated.
Then, after about an hour of nothing but the warm glow of the camping lantern, nothing but the sound of Eddieâs voice and the dying storm, the power kicks back on. The lights come to life and the fridge starts humming from the kitchen, and Harrington squeezes Eddieâs hand hard, eyes falling shut for a moment in apparent divine gratitude.
âOh, thank god,â he mutters, and Eddie canât help but agree.
Slowly, he lets go of Harringtonâs hand, and Harrington takes it back, awkwardly handing over the flashlight as if in trade. He stands from the floor, a little shaky, and Eddie follows suit, ready to catch him if his overtaxed body doesnât prove to be up to the task, but Harrington manages to stand on his own two feet, so Eddie takes a step back.
âUh⌠thanks. For all of that,â Harrington says quietly, voice a little wrecked.
Eddie shakes his head. âIâm the one who gave you a fucking panic attack in the first place. Sitting with you was literally the least I could do.â
Harrington shrugs. âYou didnât have to, though.â
âCommon decencyâand my conscienceâbeg to differ,â Eddie says, and Harrington lets out a little huff that might have been a laugh.
âAnyway, I should get out of your hair,â Harrington says. âDo you still have the, uhââ
âOh, shit, yeah.â Eddie had nearly forgotten why Harrington had come over there in the first place. He crosses back over to the coffee table, where heâd dropped the bag when the power had gone out, and snatches it up, offering it to Harrington. âHere you are, my liege.â
The title, caught somewhere between mocking and actual friendliness, makes Harrington huff out another laugh, and he reaches for his wallet.
âHow much do I owe you?â
Eddie almost canât believe heâs about to say it, butâ âDonât worry about it. This oneâs on the house.â
Heâll eat the cost if itâll assuage his guilt â if itâll get the image of Harrington crumpled on the floor, gasping for air as he searches the room for some kind of threat, out of Eddieâs head.
Harrington frowns. âYou donât have to do that.â
Eddie shrugs. âCall it even for having given you all the more reason to need to smoke it.â
Harrington is still frowning, hand still poised to pull his wallet from his back pocket, so Eddie shoves the baggie into his free hand, closing his fingers around it and letting go.
âLooks like itâs in your hands now, no takebacks!â Eddie insists. âOr, you know, no givebacks, I guess.â
Harrington rolls his eyes, but he drops his hand and tucks the baggie into the pocket of his jacket. âWell, thanks, then. I think.â
Eddie nods, searching over Harringtonâs face; heâs still pale as shit, and it makes the dark circles under his eyes, previously barely noticeable, stand out in stark relief. He looks like heâs almost swaying where he stands, and Eddie frowns.
âYou gonna be good to drive?â he asks, not really sure what he plans to do if Harrington isnât.
âI think Iâll be fine, man,â Harrington snarks, and itâs close enough to what Eddieâs used to hearing from him that heâs willing to let the matter drop.
Harrington turns for the door, but pauses just before he reaches for the handle. Eddie wonders if maybe heâs still thinking of Eddieâs stupid prank, unable to shake the idea that something really might be waiting at the door to get him, when Harrington turns back to look at him.
âDonât mention this to anyone, okay?â he says, possibly going for demanding, maybe even threatening, but landing somewhere closer to a plea. âI donât needâ I just donât need anyone knowingâŚâ
âMumâs the word, man,â Eddie assures him quickly, miming zipping up his lips, locking them, and tossing the key over his shoulder.
With a tiny smile crossing his face, Harrington nods. âThanks. Iâll, uh â see you around, I guess.â
âYeah. See you around.â Eddie nods.
And with that, Harrington is gone, out the door and crunching across the wet gravel to his car, taking the strangeness of the night with him.
Eddie stands in the middle of his living room for a long moment, feeling as though something about his view of Steve Harringtonâpossibly even his view of something largerâhas shifted, though he canât quite put his finger on how.
He puzzles it over for a bit before shrugging it off, stooping to grab the lantern and put it back where it belongs. It doesnât really matter, he figures. Itâs not like he and Harrington will have much reason to interact after this.
#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie-spooktober#cw panic attack#listen they'll look back on this one day and laugh#probably#and the next time Eddie sees Steve have a panic attack he'll get to hold him through it#solar wrote#eddiesteve
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how they would react to F!Reader saying she's pregnant but with Shanks, Rayleigh and Law?
Oi oi! Turu bem? Vou deixar atĂŠ o comecinho da resposta em portuguĂŞs porque sim hahahahah primeiro, obrigada pelo pedido e segundo, eu acho que me empolguei escrevendo de novo, sou inimiga do resumo. O do Ray acho que pode ter ficado um pouco confuso porque tentei usar as duas eras (como pode ele ser tĂŁĂŁo saborosĂssimo toda vez que aparece, af). Mas ĂŠ isso, obrigadĂŁo e espero que goste <3
And hereâs the translation of the day: Hey Hey! How are you? I'll even leave the beginning of the answer in portuguese because yes hahahahah (for those who don't understand PT-BR, I discovered that the requester is brazilian like me) firstly, thank you for the request and secondly, I think I got carried away writing again. I think Ray's might have been a little confusing because I tried to use both eras (how can he be so delicious every time he appears, haha). But that's it, thank you and I hope you like it <3
Oh, and hello @badlandsx! I'm tagging you here because I saw your request about Law, but don't worry, I'll soon write the other part that you also requested. Thank you <3
requests open | one piece masterlist (other pregnancy stories are here)
Warnings are place individually in each story.
Rayleigh
Warnings: mentions of new and old Ray, like I said I love them both. Buggy and Shanks kids are one of my favorite things about Roger's era, so we have them here. Mention to F!Reader being an herbalist. Brief not-so-canonical mention of Sabaody's arc.
Acid temperament, answers on the tip of the tongue, a captivating smile. Rayleigh didn't have much of an option but to fall in love at first sight when you two bumped into each other in a random bar on a random island. It didn't matter anymore when he managed to convince you to be part of the crew. Your knowledge of herbs and medicines was just an excuse he used to get the captain to accept - and Roger knew Silvers Rayleigh enough to know it was just a pretext for you to get on board.
It didn't take long for the glances exchanged and toasts proposed to turn into hidden moments at Oro Jackson, kisses stolen when others weren't looking, that turned into a golden ring around your finger. Now, such moments had turned into a new life being generated in you.
"You should stay less agitated for now, please." Crocus asked. You had come up with a lame excuse for him to stay on the ship with you while the others had disembarked. "By my reckoning, these are still the first few months, it's the most sensitive period. Any more aggressive activity can bring risks."
"You will die?" Buggy's squeaky voice caught the two of you's attention. When you found the spot where the boy was hiding, you saw Shanks cover his companion's mouth.
"Nothing like that, come here." you leaned on the counter, calling out to the two who soon stopped in front of you. "How much of our conversation did you hear?"
"That you don't really know what to do, and that you need to be less agitated and that you're sensitive." Shanks took the lead, listing, Buggy came further behind, eyes attentive to your every movement.
The two boys already saw you almost as a motherly figure, always trying to hide and lean on you whenever they got into trouble, of course they would be scared to hear such loose information.
"I'll trust you two, but I want you both to keep your mouth shut." you bent down to his level. "I'm pregnant, but it's too early for anyone to know, okay?"
"Pregnant?" they both screamed and you covered their mouths. Further behind you, Crocus was deliberately laughing at the two boys' reactions. "Does that mean it's the baby that's hurting you?" Buggy completed.
"No one was hurt." the doctor took the lead, explaining to both of them. "A pregnant woman requires more care and is also more sensitive. Well, you knowing this can be of great help."
"What do you mean by that?" Just like you, the boys seemed to have doubt written all over their faces.
"Someone here loves to get into trouble, until Rayleigh finds out and can keep an eye on you, you two are responsible for it. No fights, no crazy adventures, no almost anything." the man laughed when he saw your indignant expression.
"I promise to keep her and the baby safe." Shanks puffed out his chest, taking pride in what he had said.
"What? I promise more than him." Buggy grumbled.
"As long as you both promise to keep quiet, that's fine with me."
When the two youngest saluted, you knew you were screwed.
It was difficult to disguise such a situation when in the following days the two of them became your shadow. The only time you could see yourself alone was going to the bathroom. If you went to your little corner to work, one of the two would be sitting next to you, following everything you explained to them - since they were there, they would learn something. In day-to-day tasks, one of them always set out to do his part. Rayleigh was already finding their little movement strange, but he knew how attached you were to both of them, so it wasn't something that bothered him.
"I'm going to take advantage of the fact that it's our last day here and I'm going to go down to the village, I need to get some materials." you announced. "Does anyone need anything?"
"Everything's fine here." Gaban warned and one by one, the other companions agreed.
"Wait!" a panting Buggy ran across the boat. "I'll go with you."
"Get out you fool, I'll go." Shanks shouted from the other side.
"Come on, the three of you, what do you think?" you suggested, before his little fight escalated.
"You two don't think you're stealing much of my wife's attention, do you?" Rayleigh proposed, seeing the two swallow hard and deny it. "Alright, enjoy the little walk."
It was supposed to be a quick visit to the island, if the boys didn't decide to start trouble with one of the sellers, you got in the middle and now you were lying on your ass on the floor - in the pushing and shoving, there ended up being a push for you while arguing with the seller . Before you could calm the boys down, you saw them running towards the ship, shit.
Rayleigh's attention was stolen when he saw the two crew members rushing into the Oro Jackson. Buggy burst into tears and insults directed at his friend, while Shanks seemed to be looking for someone specific. You, however, were not with them. It didn't take much to connect the facts.
"Where is she?" He approached the kids, completely ignoring them. "What happened?"
"A tragedy." Buggy, dramatically, started crying even more.
"You idiot! We can't tell them anything." Shanks poked Buggy, who immediately retaliated with a push.
"Crocus said we should keep an eye on her and now she's fallen and is going to die!"
"She fell?" Rayleigh was already impatient with their drama, unable to find any connection in their grumbling. "Explain this properly."
"It was just a fall, nothing big." the redhead tried to alleviate the situation.
"Boys, it was just a fall, she's definitely gotten herself into bigger trouble." Roger laughed, watching the two boys pushing each other.
"I don't want to know. Where's Crocus?" Buggy grumbled, ignoring the captain's own laughter and his friend's false calm temperament.
"What kind of fall was that for you two to be so worried about?" Rayleigh held out his hands, pushing the two boys apart by their foreheads.
"This idiot went looking for a fight." Shanks tried to reach the clown, stopped by the first mate's hand.
"And this idiot who doesn't know how to keep his tongue in his mouth." Buggy fought back, only hitting the air.
"First she said we were supposed to be quiet."
"You knock down a pregnant woman and I'm the one who has to stay quiet!" The words that came out of Buggy were able to provoke silence among the other pirates. "Shit!"
"She's going to kill us man."
"Where is she?" Crocus appeared, stopping in front of the boys and an astonished Rayleigh. "How did she fall? What's all that crying, Buggy?"
"Is she the pregnant woman?" Rayleigh asked in a much calmer tone than usual.
The hands were now no longer used to separate the boys, they just hung beside his body. Seeing the two kids swallow hard and look at each other, Rayleigh no longer needed any more answers.
"Rayleigh, Crocus go to her, now." Even with Roger's orders, Rayleigh was already heading in the direction of leaving the boat, not worrying about who would follow him.
Upon entering the village, it didn't take many steps for them to find you - only then did Rayleigh notice the doctor's presence. What was strange was finding you still lying on the floor, your elbows propped up to keep your face up while you were still arguing with the man in front of you. You didn't look hurt, you just looked mad at the man.
"It was just some herbs!" you shouted, excited.
"You idiot! If it was just some herbs, you should pay." the man shouted back.
Before you could respond, a body appeared in front of you and you didn't need much to recognize that it was your husband.
"What is happening?" his patient voice asked, looking at you over his shoulder. "I see that you seem to have problems with my wife."
"You see, she allowed two boys to steal herbs from my store."
"That is true?" he turned to you, finding a wry smile. Your permissiveness with the boys would still kill him. "How much does she owe you?"
The man spoke and almost as if predicting the problem, Crocus threw some coins to Rayleigh, who handed them to the man. A few seconds later, they were both around you.
"Did you get hurt?" the doctor asked, seeing your eyes dart from his to your husband's. "Buggy accidentally told him that little secret."
"Shit." your grumble was low, in a way you avoided looking at Rayleigh. "Maybe I spent my money buying some sweets for the three of us, but I needed those herbs too." you list, feeling your face burn with guilt and shame.
"Do you feel any pain?" Rayleigh asked, his voice almost forcing you to face him. Without finding words, you just denied it. "Great. Let's go back to the ship."
Crocus supported you by the waist and as soon as you stood up, you bitterly regretted having denied the question your husband had asked. The excruciating pain that shot up from your foot made you scream and fall forward, being held by Rayleigh.
"I was wrong, so wrong, what the hell." you grumbled, taking your aching foot off the ground. "It fucking hurts, it really hurts, Ray, do something." your teary eyes searched for his, who looked attentively in your direction.
"First I need you to calm down, sweetheart." he asked, wrapping his arm around you and providing even more support. "Crocus, what do we have?"
"Let me see." he bent down again, finding a swollen ankle. "It could just be a sprain or it could be broken, let's go back and that way I can see calmly."
"Go ahead, I'll take her."
The doctor took a few steps away and the two of you remained there for a few seconds, until Rayleigh took you in his arms and took you back to the ship. You knew he wanted to tell you something, but you also knew that that wasn't the appropriate place.
Before you could receive the necessary medical attention, you needed to calm both boys down. Maybe the explanation you and Crocus gave the two of them earlier had been too much for them to think that a little fight would bring you down. Rayleigh ushered them both out and closed the door behind him.
"When were you thinking of telling me?" he asked, still distant.
"To be honest, I still don't know." a light laugh escaped your lips. "They both found out by accident, hearing me talk to Crocus."
"I still can't believe those little idiots found out before me." his expression softened as he approached you.
"Are you mad at me?" His hands circled your waist, pulling you to the middle of the bed.
He gently created space for himself between your legs, taking care to place your bandaged ankle to the side. The fierce kisses this time were replaced by some caresses along your lap, some quick kisses on your lips.
"Furious?" His smile floated to your forehead, turning into a small kiss. "I just found out that the woman I love most is about to bear me a child. How can I be furious with such good news?"
His mouth once again met yours and despite the softness in which your tongues tangled, the gentle touch of his hand sliding down your side - curious fingers floating over the fabric on your belly - before your dress found a different path than your body, a small external noise caught the attention of both of you.
"Sure." Rayleigh pulled away just enough, allowing you to still feel his breath against yours. "You know it's Roger who's waiting, don't you?"
"Yeah." you laughed, seeing him groan as he let go of you.
"And that he's about to come out screaming with joy" he asked again and you nodded, trying to adjust yourself in bed and hide any evidence of what was about to happen.
Rayleigh barely opened the wooden door and Roger followed by other companions entered, a smile from ear to ear.
"A child!" He pulled you from the bed, hugging you tightly. "Another crewmate for us! This is incredible, get ready today we're going to drink, we're going to celebrate."
"Oi! She can't drink." Rayleigh pointed out and saw Roger let go of you a little and then hug you tightly again.
"Then let's eat, eat a lot. I'm going to order an incredible feast!"
If before your concern was to escape the needy and attentive claws of Buggy and Shanks, now the two boys seemed to have found company. Your other companions - being practically led by Rayleigh made you feel adorable all the time. Even with your hormones screaming at the top of your skin, even with all the strange desires and the constant need to be attached to your husband, everyone seemed to be ready and happy to see you pregnant. Rayleigh felt proud and a little overprotective of you, no wonder, since you had already returned to the boat covered in blood that didn't belong to you just because someone had tried to rob you or when you almost convinced Roger to loot a village because you wanted cakes from a bakery that was closed when you docked. You still preferred to stick to your herbs, but that didn't mean you were harmless.
Little Arthur came into the world calmly and quickly, as if everything was meticulously planned for him to arrive on that peaceful afternoon. Even though you were still uncomfortable and tired after giving birth, you couldn't contain your laughter when you saw the two youngest members of the crew fighting over who would pick up the little one first. Knowing the affection and care attached to you, you proudly allowed the two of you to carry the title of little Arth's uncles - provoking yet another argument over who was the favorite.
The bonds between you and Rayleigh became even tighter after the birth of Arth and, shortly after, little Dalia. A few years after the gang broke up and Roger was executed and on that day, you and your husband stepped back from the role of parents and allowed yourselves to cry on each other's shoulders. The tears of pain at the loss of Roger soon turned to missing your eldest son, a fruit doesn't fall far from the tree and of course, Arth never let you two tell him everything you knew, he would find a crew so that together they could find the One Piece.
The door to your house opened and you saw a familiar face enter. A mother knows very well what each child's traits could bring and when you saw an almost identical copy of Rayleigh rush through the door, you knew it was your boy back. He had finally found a crew - one that carried a straw hat familiar to the one you knew.
"What?" the voice of his companions shouted in unison as Rayleigh properly introduced the two of you.
"You mean you know everything?" Usopp turned to Arth, who just shook his head. "Oh, that's a lot of information at once."
"We never told him anything." you explained, holding your third child in your arms, a girl who had just turned four years old.
"You said your parents were pirates, but you never specified which ones." Luffy pointed out, his mouth full of food.
"My parents already had their time, now they have other priorities." Arth took little Lure from you, the girl's laugh echoed throughout the room. "Just like this little one here."
"You only have these two children?" Nami asked, interested in the difference between you and Rayleigh to the white-haired child.
"In fact, only Dalia and Arth were born to me. Ray saved our little Lure from being sold to those damn nobles. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to save her family, but we took it upon ourselves to take care of her."
"And Dalia is also a pirate?"
"Not for now, but she's on an island with some of our friends, training." you simply informed, seeing that Arth had understood the message.
That same day, you saw your son disappear before your eyes, into the hands of the tyrant Kuma. Luffy looked desolate and you followed suit, both screams echoing through the damp Sabaody forest. Only when Rayleigh managed to drag you back home did you understand that your boy would be far away, safer and according to Kuma himself, with someone you both would trust with your eyes closed.
Almost two years have passed since Rayleigh took on a mission and left you alone on the island, taking care of what was left behind.
"Father?" Lure's voice caught your attention. At the door, Rayleigh crouched down, waiting for the white-haired girl to jump towards him.
"My sweetie you are so huge!" he let the girl hang onto him, filling the top of her head with kisses. "If I took a little longer, you'd be bigger than me."
"I missed you so much." she clung to Rayleigh, who was walking towards you. "Mommy too."
"I bet she felt it too." With one of his free hands, he circled your waist, lightly kissing your lips. "I hope two of my favorite girls are okay."
"Dad, did you know that Uncle Duval asked Mom to stay with him?" The girl laughed at the little gossip told, earning a reprimanding look from you, even if it was a joke.
"Uncle Duval, hm? I'll have a little talk with him." Rayleigh placed her on the floor, yet the girl remained there beside you, paying attention to everything.
"Just a friend of the Straw Hats, we took care of Sunny while you were gone. I even tried to start the plating, but I'd rather focus on my teas." You explained, allowing yourself to hug him completely. "How are things over there?"
"By things, do you talk about our Dalia?"
"Perhaps." the passive tone in your voice became even calmer when your face was buried in his chest. "I miss my little girl."
"She promised to come soon and she's doing great, she's been one of Kikyo's right-hand men. She's so strong, you'll be proud." he felt you nod against his skin, the distance of two years seemed too far for a quick hug to satisfy. "Want to know about Arth?"
"Have you heard from him?"
"Is little brother Arth coming?" Lure clung to Rayleigh's leg, watching her father. Even without the blood connection, the black king found it comical to say the least how similar you two had become.
"Not yet, my dear. And I haven't heard from him exactly, but rather where he is." Rayleigh began to explain, meeting your curious eyes. "I only received a small note."
He took it out and handed you the small crumpled paper. The tranquility that had been missing for two years invaded you as you read each word.
I hope this reaches you and your wife, Rayleigh-san. Knowing her, I believe she is distraught over Arth's disappearance. He has been training with me and I promise that I will keep that old promise to keep him safe. No clumsy clowns this time.
Shanks.
Shanks
warnings: F!Reader and Shanks don't have a fixed relationship at the beginning of the story, F!Reader has a restaurant. Maybe wrong use of haki, brief spicier section and brief mentions of childbirth. Shanks is an adorable girl dad here. Emony, in some language that I don't remember, is a name related to treasure.
"When are you going to go to sea with me?"
That question had already been repeated countless times every day that Shanks decided to stop at your restaurant. He always made up a little excuse that his crew was hungry and that no other place in that city would be able to fulfill his orders. He repeated every time you served dishes wearing the apron he said made you look amazing, every time he convinced you to stop working for a bit and share a dish with him, every time he was on top of you. you on the bed, as you asked for more and more.
However, every time the answer was the same.
"Give me a good reason red-haired, one other than me ending up in your bed, and I will."
You had already lost track of the times he did this, that he asked and you refused, that you shared hours together and the next morning he left you to return a few months later. This time however, it was difficult to lose track of time, as with each passing day, you discovered a change in your body. It started with irritability, then the aching body, nausea and finally, the positive test on your hand and your shocked family right behind you.
The whole city already knew that you were the redhead's favorite person and at that point, no one dared to mess with you or insinuate anything. Knowing how quickly rumors could spread, you chose to keep it a secret until it became impossible. The secret only lasted four months before his jolly roger appears on the horizon. Already knowing the routine he used to have on the island, you prepared yourself to soon find him entering the door.
"Finally, my favorite cook." his voice hit you before you even saw him. "Long time no see you."
"Yeah, it's been a while." out of habit, you allowed his hand to hug your waist, but you tried not to tighten yourself too much in his embrace.
"Everything is fine?" he asked, noticing your more distant behavior.
"Yeah, it's just been a busy day. What can I get you guys?"
"What's good on the menu today?" Lucky Roux asked, his typical piece of meat at hand had already reached its end.
"A fish stew, we also have some pies. Did you bring any new recipes for me?" You reached out to him.
Since the first time you met the red-haired pirates, you and him had gotten along well and the little deal was that he would always bring new recipes and in return, he was the only one who didn't pay at your family's restaurant.
"Spicy noodles and oysters with honey." he stretched out the two papers in his hand. "Two recipes, two dishes."
"Okay, you win. Anyone else want some stew?" the men piled in, affirming yes. Before you could leave, you felt Shanks' hand grab yours.
"Wait a second." a chill passed through your body as his eyes analyzed you. "You look different, I don't know. It's like you're even more beautiful."
"Don't give me those cheap lines, redhead." you warned in your playful tone. "A stew for you too?"
"The day I deny this could rip my other arm off."
Like the other times they appeared there, Shanks and the others stayed almost the entire day. Much of the food at that point had already been replaced by drinks, which forced you to practically dodge the glasses that were offered to you.
The restaurant was already empty, even your brothers who used to help you had already left, leaving you alone with the leftover dishes and tables to organize for the next day.
"It doesn't seem very gentlemanly to me to leave a lady alone." Again, just like that afternoon, you saw Shanks enter the door, ignoring the "closed" sign.
"You don't need to worry about me, I'll sort it out in a few minutes." You gave your best smile, seeing that he wasn't convinced.
"Then I can help you solve something else."
Not giving you much room to deny it or to at least try to address the issue that was hovering between the two of you, Shanks revoked his right over your mouth. Amidst the scattered tables and trying to turn off the light in the room so as not to attract so much attention, you went unnoticed by his hands taking off your apron and immediately undoing the buttons on your t-shirt. When the piece became a small puddle of fabric on the floor next to your apron and Shanks slid his hand down your torso, you realized that he had indeed noticed.
"What is that?" his voice was low, even though there were just the two of you there.
"I think you're smarter than that, redhead." you tried to alleviate the situation, seeing that it had been in vain.
"It's mine?" His eyes met yours, his serious expression made chills run up your body. Shanks was adorable, one of the kindest people you'd ever served at your restaurant, but he was still a pirate. "Hey, look at me, is it mine?"
"What do you think?" you responded immediately, seeing him take a few steps back. "I found out a few weeks after you left here last time, so far it's been easy to hide with dresses and aprons, but it looks like it won't last long."
"So it's mine?" he insisted, making you huff in frustration.
"The last time you came here, I remember you making me scream a few times that I was yours. I am a woman of my word, there is no one else who is the father of this baby but you."
His expression soon contorted from something serious to a slight smile that turned into a loud laugh. His hand found your face, stroking it with some delicacy.
"You told me you needed a good reason to leave with me." he started, seeing you already look disbelieved. "And no, I don't want you just in my bed. I want you by my side, forever. I want you to leave with me so I can make you my wife. To make you the mother of all my children." his hand reached down and caressed the bump on your belly. "This explains so much."
"So much, tomato head?" You let your hand rest on top of his, enjoying the affection.
"Your bad mood when you saw my face or you refusing to drink with me." He approached, pressing his face to yours. "You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."
"ShanksâŚ"
"Please say yes."
He used that entire night to convince you to go on board with him and the next morning to help you pack your bags and head to his ship. When the other companions saw your face, they were in disbelief for a while until the true reason for your presence was explained, to everyone's delight.
For a moment, it was too much information for your head, learning a little about the life of a pirate, understanding what Shanks was like as a captain and the changes in your body seemed too much for you. It wasn't surprising that you had practically hijacked the ship's kitchen all to yourself and it was very common to find you in the early hours of the morning, up to something.
"What's the recipe for today, mummy?" Shanks appeared, his face still crumpled indicating that he had just woken up from a good sleep.
"A cake, that's all." you just responded, feeling him press himself behind you and slide his hand over your big eight-month-old belly.
"And what's the name of the cake?" He leaned over your shoulder, still caressing you. "Is it "I'm worried about my baby's future." or "The baby woke me up by kicking me in the ribs"?
"How do you know that?" you laughed, taking some of the still raw dough for him to taste.
"Delicious." he muttered before he could follow up on any thoughts. "Daddy's Haki. I always know what's going on with my baby."
"Oh, of course." you laughed and immediately felt the same pain that had gotten you out of bed a few hours ago and had been recurring in the last few moments. You knew what it was, you just wanted to enjoy the time you still had with your baby inside.
"Honey?" Shanks asked as he saw you lean your body against his and groan in pain. "My love, what is it?"
"Didn't daddy's haki help you this time?" you tried to laugh but the pain hit you again. Before you could continue your sequence of laments, you felt your dress and as a result of the proximity, Shanks got wet.
"No, it didn't help, it's happening now, isn't it? Hongo!" he started screaming, trying to pick you up.
"Shanks, what ifâŚ" your eyes moistened with anxiety and accumulated tears. "What if I'm a terrible mother? What if nothing works? What if I can't bring our baby into the world?"
"There's no what if." he pointed out, gently pulling your chin. "Look at me, we're going to bring our first child into the world and everything will be fine. Come on, it's time to meet our baby."
Emony was born after long hours of labor. The small tuft of red hair was identical to Shanks's and her cry was celebrated by the entire ship who had woken up with your screams of pain and with Shanks running back and forth behind Hongo.
The girl was a little copy of her father, from her red hair to her attitude, which made you constantly laugh - after all, at the age of five she had already declared that she was going after One Piece alone when you two gave her a little scolding for her coming out of hiding during a fight you were involved in. You should also anticipate that the girl's strength would be derived from her father and not hers. A break on an island meant having the two of you spotted by enemy pirates while you were taking a walk with little Emony. After trying to escape and fight, you both ended up surrendering, you were on your knees, a gun against your head and little Emony was lifted by the collar of her dress.
"My daddy is going to finish you off, your shit" she declared, trying to kick the man, completely in vain.
"Will he really do that?" the man teased her, seeing the girl become even more nervous. "I'll be waiting for."
"You know this is his territory, what do you want on this island?" you asked and felt the gun being pressed even more against your head.
"Take it away from my mommy!!" Emony screamed and you felt something different in the air.
The man who was pointing the gun at you fell, fainted, as did the other men who accompanied the pirate. Their captain let out a loud laugh, pressing his hand even tighter against Emony's dress.
"Haki? At such a young age?"
"Mommy!" the girl jolted towards you, seeing you get up and walk towards her.
"I suggest you take your rotten hands off my daughter." Shanks' voice came from behind the man.
By dodging a little, you can see the crew approaching. Benn was already pointing a gun, almost glued to the head of the tyrant who had his hands on your little Emony.
"This here?" he shook the girl dismissively, turning to face Shanks. "You know, lately the navy has been investing a lot of money in Yonko's children." the man threatened, a stupid smile adorning his lips. "What's your offer for the brat?"
"Lucky, Yassop?" Shanks just signed. "You guys take my girls inside."
Without waiting for the man to respond, the redhead punched him in the face and before Emony could reach the ground, Lucky caught her. The two of you were taken inside a small store, where some vendors offered water and a place to calm down.
"Where are my girls?" Shanks' voice reached the two of you, but your daughter ran to him, hugging her father's legs, who picked her up. "Are you hurt, my little one?"
"No daddy." she smiled, victoriously. "You see, I'm ready to be a pirate." the joy in her voice brought some peace of mind to both of you.
"I thought you were already a pirate." Benn, who accompanied Shanks, commented and got the girl's response by sticking her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to be the greatest pirate! Just like dad." she replied, shaking herself off Shanks' lap. "Come on Uncle Benn, I bet I beat you."
"Bet? Let's see." The first mate let the girl hit him a few times, laughing at her effort.
"And you, love, were you hurt?" Shanks stood next to you, holding your shaking hand.
"I just got scared. Shanks, sheâŚ"
"I felt it. That's how I knew she was in danger." he replied before the question even left your thoughts. "She's barely trained and can already do this? She's really going to be a great pirate."
"BabeâŚ" your warning tone made it clear that this was not the time for him to encourage such ideas.
"Imagine, she's a captain? Our daughter has a big future. In fact, we know who she takes after." the man boasted, earning a shove in response. "I think she needs companions."
"She can arrange it over time."
"Or we can help." the mischievous tone was already almost inert to the way he spoke to you. "Just a few more babies, a first mate, a cook." He started to list, seeing you deny it. "But you look so beautiful pregnant."
"Forget it Shanks."
"Daddy, mummy!" Emony's voice drew you both in. You watched the girl pose as victorious, on top of a Benn Beckman, Lucky, Yasopp and Limejuice piled on the floor, pretending to be defeated. "I won!"
"Now I challenge you, my little fire hair." Shanks joined in the game, going over to the girl.
Maybe some brothers for Emony would be nice - and maybe Shanks would have given you a good reason to accompany him every time you saw him love your little daughter.
Law
Part 2 here
warnings: angst, more angst, arguments with a fluff and happy ending. I mean, do I really need to inform you that our boy is going to freak out about the possibility of amber lead in his baby? Perhaps not very common uses of his DF, Law freaks out for a while, but then becomes the best dad in the world (we saw so little of Law with Lammy, but I bet he was an amazing brother and that he would be such a great girl's dad). And of course, Rosi comes from Rosinante. This text here is huge, sorry.
Being subordinate and companion to a captain who happened to be a doctor was one of the most practical things in your life. Did you catch the flu? He would solve it. Were you injured in battle? Just call the captain.
This meant not having any problems, especially after you decided to start dating. Law became even more attentive to every detail of your health, which made you realize that you didn't have much time to deal with the situation in your hands - more precisely, the situation in your womb.
The tests remained hidden in Ikkaku's drawer, with her being his only confidant at that moment. You wanted to know how many months it was, to be able to share such news, but you knew that as soon as Law found out, he would freak out and that's why you were avoiding him.
Avoiding, in the past verb, after all, he had already noticed something wrong between the two of you. Two knocks on your bedroom door startled you and your roommate.
"Hey." he looked dejected when the door opened, his attention automatically turned to Ikkaku. "Mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?"
"Of course captain." a pious look came from her towards you, before the woman disappeared from your field of vision.
Law, not knowing what to say, sat next to you. As you tried to grab his hand, you felt him move away. Damn it.
"How long have you known?" his cold tone dictated that he was probably not happy at all with the news.
"How do you know?" you answered his question with another, trying to buy time before the approaching storm.
"Today marks two months since you haven't asked me for help with any colic or complained about being sinking in a red river." he laughed, even though he didn't look happy. "By my reckoning, it's also been two months since that day in the kitchen."
Of course, the day in the kitchen. You and Law were always careful, even if you already used your contraceptive method, you preferred to use other types of protection. Except when you arrived at Polar Tang drunk and alone, which resulted in a unprotected sex session on the shared kitchen table.
"Quite a recipe we made." You tried to make fun of him.
"What do we do?" For the first time at that moment, you saw Law's eyes actually find you, worried and afraid.
"What do we do?" you repeated. "I'm pregnant Law, I don't know if there's much to do other than wait for the baby to be born."
"You know what worries me." his harsh response cut through any kind of excitement you held back. "You know very well what will happen to this child."
"What can happen." you corrected him.
"Would you rather risk waiting the nine months, giving birth and seeing your child die some time later? Sounds like a great idea to me." Cynicism echoed in his words just as your two voices were already much louder, taking your hatred to levels you didn't yet know.
"Would you rather I have an abortion and then spend the rest of my life wondering what if my baby had been born healthy?" his silence was the answer you needed at that moment. "You know what? Leave me on the next island, I'd rather take a risk and have my baby happy than have to abort it or even worse, my baby has to live with a parent who hates its existence."
"You don't understand what this could entail." He stood up too, trying to put something that looked like sense into your head. "You stay here until this is resolved."
"This has already been resolved and you don't need to have any involvement in my baby's life." you were sure the entire submarine was already listening to that argument between the two of you. "Get out of here, Law."
"ButâŚ"
"Get out of here!" you screamed even louder, seeing the man give up and leave. It only took a few seconds for Ikkaku to appear and allow you to cry for hours on her shoulder.
Anyone looking from the outside could see that you two were in pain. Law had become a shadow of the captain he was, only having small appearances to issue orders or to follow you - even without saying many words - every time you approached an island, fearing that you would leave the crew. Even though the two of you didn't talk anymore, you knew that his disappearance was related to studying everything he could about the disease that ravaged his country and was also present in him.
In the two months that had passed, Law had stopped being your boyfriend and practically become your doctor. Without exchanging many words, you only met when he decided to do some examination on you. To break the mood, you always took one of your friends along. The little information you had about Law came from Bepo, Shachi or Penguin, the only ones who were still able to invade his room and talk to him. Like that afternoon, when they insisted that you convince him to leave the room and have dinner with all his companions.
"Law?" two knocks on the door accompanied your voice. His tired look hit you immediately.
"How can I help you?"
"I wanted you to come have dinner with us." you tried to appeal to what you want. Many times, before pregnancy, that had worked.
"I am a little busy."
"I can bring something here." You suggested, approaching him. On the table, you saw accumulated papers, the vast majority of which titles were not related to Amber Lead.
"No need to worry, I'm fine." he simply replied, seeing that you were reading the papers on his desk. "I found some new studies."
"Law, I told you that you don't need to worry about that right now, we don't know yetâŚ"
"When would you rather I worry?" the cynicism was once again there in his voice and he knew how much you hated it. "When you die on the table because for some reason this shit got to you? Or when I watch our baby die?"
"Now is he our baby?" you used the same resource as him. "From what I remember, I had made it very clear that I didn't want you to be involved in this."
"But it's my obligation."
"Your obligation as a father? I think you lost that right when you made it very clear that I had to take my baby away." you started to walk away from his desk. "Or your obligation as captain? As a boyfriend that isn't, I don't know what it's like to have a boyfriend for a good few months."
"I was busy, trying to find a cure for you two."
"We're both not sick." you sounded offended by what he had proposed. "But keep it up, sink into your books, don't worry when I disappear from this fucking submarine."
You left slamming the door, stressed. The looks that reached you seemed full of pity and concern. You only managed to get as far as the kitchen before a pang hit your head and stomach. Being supported by your colleagues, the only request you made was that no one tell Law about it. You wouldn't give him reason in his incessant search for something he didn't yet know.
Alleviating your worries, the diagnosis arrived quickly: just a spike in high blood pressure. A few hours of rest and an IV should do the trick. When you saw Bepo murmur an apology, you knew exactly what he was going to do and so did your friends, as little by little they left you alone. You remained turned away, even though you heard the door open. Something in the air had changed, it was as if you immediately felt more tense and prepared for another argument.
"Babe, can we talk?" Law's voice sounded much lower than normal, definitely attracting your attention. His affectionate way of calling you was an easy way to make you fall for his words. You turned around, facing him and started to adjust yourself to sit on the stretcher. "No, please, stay still there."
"I'm just going to sit down." You did so, your movement being followed to the millimeter by his eyes. "Just to be clear, I don't want to fight."
"I didn't come here for that reason." he approached, hesitating with every step he took. "Actually, I know you didn't want me to come here for any reason."
"I just don't want to have to hear from my doctor that I'd better have given up on the idea." you turned around, allowing your legs to dangle. "I understand your concerns Law and I would be lying if I said I haven't been terrified of the idea since I saw the first positive test."
"I know." He finally stopped a short distance away, but he still didn't touch you. "I⌠I-I, damn, why is it so hard?"
"Just let the words come, don't think about them." you suggested, figuring it was just pride keeping you from apologizing for all the previous argument.
"I-I feel like shit." a sigh came out along with the words. "You're right, as a boyfriend I've been terrible, as a doctor then, just look at the fact that you're in a hospital bed and the last person to be informed is me." his fists clenched and then loosened, his tattooed hands rubbed against his face, perhaps in an attempt to get the words out of him.
"Law?" your heart broke when you heard a sniffle come from him, it was the last gesture you expected after everything, it was difficult to connect the information like this.
"I can't lose you and I know it doesn't seem like it, I know I've been a terrible person, but I love this child. I can't lose this too." For the first time after so long together, you saw tears run down your loved one's face. His hands stuck to his hat, pulling in a failed attempt to hide his face. "I can't stop regretting saying that to you, what if our baby hates me for it? What if our baby knows that for a moment, even a small moment, I didn't want him or her to exist."
"My love?" You extended your hand, being accepted by him. Law fit between your legs and buried his face in your neck, even with the muffled sound, you only heard his murmurs and sobs.
"I'm sorry, please. For yelling and being an idiot." he asked, still not letting go of you. "I just can't deal with the thought of losing either of you."
"My dear, look at me." his irises remained almost hidden by the tears that accumulated at his waterline. Your hands dried his face and you didn't know how you weren't crying together. "We still don't know if our child will have amber lead disease, we don't know the scope of your fruit in the cure."
"What should we do in the meantime?"
"As I told you, wait. Make the best of this little time we have until the baby is born." you suggested while your hands traced caresses on his face. "And I just want, I need, my boyfriend back. I don't know how far I can go without you by my side."
"I promise to get better, I promise to take care of you." he replied, taking a deep breath and composing himself. With his hands rubbing his face, Law looked much more centered. "What happened today? When Bepo called me, he just told me it was a blood pressure problem and that you were resting."
"I said I want my boyfriend." you insisted with a smile on your face and saw a small ghost of what would be a smile on Law too.
Law first checked the serum that was being applied to you and then took off the hat he was wearing, placing it on your hair. With his face millimeters away from yours, he placed a quick kiss on your lips, followed by one more and another, until finally you gave way to him. The skin of his face was still damp against your face and your fingers caressed his scalp, the gesture he loved so much and god, how he had missed it. When Law pulled away, you almost pulled him back. Two months were too long apart - even under the same roof.
"I missed you so much." You confessed, not wanting to let go of his hand.
"I missed you too my love, I'm sorry for being such an idiot for so long." He sank against your skin again, this time stealing a few kisses along the way. "What do you think we make up for lost time?"
"That sounds interesting to me."
"No, no sex." he cut you off as soon as he saw you smile mischievously. "Room."
You were back in his room, now lying on the soft bed with gray sheets. Along with the two of you, only the serum and support tied to your skin had come. Law adjusted himself, sitting with his back against the wall and adjusting your body to be against his skin. You saw from the corner of your eye his hand go towards you and retreat, ignoring any complaint he would make, you pulled it back and placed it flat against your belly.
"I don't think you can feel it yet, but I've already started to feel some small movements. In fact, I thought I had stomach gas, until Ikkaku and I found a book explaining that it was the baby." You explained and looking over your shoulder, you could see bright gray eyes staring at you. "Right now, from what I feel, the baby is here." you slid his hand away, stopping next to your side.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked, using his other arm to hug you even tighter. You nodded and saw him smile at the likely thought that crossed his mind before the words came out. "The other day, I accidentally spied on you in your room. I think you had just gotten out of the shower and were in front of the mirror."
"Oh no Law, I don't believe it." you laughed, already knowing what day it was.
"I think you spent about fifteen minutes posing in front of the mirror, caressing our child in your womb. God, you looked so beautiful, so radiant." he allowed himself to almost melt against the wall behind him. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time, so much stuff."
"Can I tell you something too? I actually need to update you on a few things." you asked and felt his face move against your skin, nodding. "Did you know that our baby is already just like you? I can't even see a piece of bread before I'm ready to spill my stomach."
That night, the two of you spent a lot of time there. You telling him about the little news that Law had missed in the time you didn't talk and him explaining little curiosities to you, things that seemed incredible to him because they were happening in the body of the woman he loved and he didn't have the courage to tell you before.
In the fifth month - now with a new version of Law, one much more adept at the idea of ââbeing a father and much more attached to you. You were dragged by him to a small room, finding Ikkaku, Shachi and Penguin sitting at the table waiting for you.
"What is that?" You sat down in the chair that Law arranged for you, he soon took the place next to you.
"You said you didn't want me as a doctor, so if you want and you have time to think about it, they will be your doctor."
"And you?" your voice was almost cornered, trying to connect the pieces of the situation that was presented. "Aren't you going to be at the birth?"
"I'll be there all the time and any problem, I'll take care of it. But I want to be there for you, for our baby. Instead of scalpels and speculums, I just want to hold your hand." Law chuckled as he saw your little pout that you made start to tremble. "Sound like a good idea to you?"
"T-This is in-amazing." despite Law seeing you get emotional, the loudest crying came from the other side of the table.
"Man, that was beautiful." Shachi was struggling, leaning on Penguin.
"It's so good that you guys are back."
"Idiots." the woman commented, turning to you. "Come on, tell me everything you expect from the birth of our little baby."
After spending the remaining months buried in books next to him, this time looking for good information and not just a cure for an illness, you learned that the stretcher was not a good place to give birth and that sensations were an important part of the process, in other words, goodbye Ope Ope no Mi's anesthesia powers. Law seemed to want to make up for the distance by always staying close to you and always reminding you how special you were to him, like when you looked adorable when the jumpsuit stopped fitting around your belly or when you and Bepo joined in complaining about the heat.
With the help of your own nature, the chosen doctors and Law behind you in that hot tub, your girl arrived into the world quickly and much less painfully than you thought. In the first few hours, little Rosi didn't let go of you and only when the water around the bathtub became cold did Law manage to take his focus off the little baby to take you two to a more cozy place.
In the early days, Law's hands seemed tied to Rosi. When the girl with eyes as gray as her father's wasn't on his lap, Law was following you like a shadow to ensure the health of both of you. Sometimes looking sideways, you could see Law observing every inch of the girl, in a constant search for signs of the cursed disease that had once taken his family from him. He would never allow that to happen to his little girl.
The worry lasted for years and there was never a sign of the disease or any other illness. Before, if everyone at Polar Tang had a strict health care schedule, with the arrival of the girl, attention redoubled.
Rosi was like seeing a mini-version of Law walking around, especially because of the copy of his hat that he had gotten for her. All the love that Law took to give you and her, when it was just a fetus inside you, the doctor seemed to make up for it with the girl, there wasn't something she wanted or asked for that he wasn't ready to do.
Rosi seemed to love accompanying her father in laboratories and studies, this seemed to change when she was once injured in an attack, in fact Rosi lost her balance with the Polar Tang speeding into the sea and ended up getting a cut on her forehead, patched by Ikkaku since Law was busy fending off enemies. That had been enough trauma for little Rosi to not want to know more about medical things.
"Please, my sweetie, it's just a small remedy." you tried to pull the girl out of the closet.
"No, no, no." she grumbled. The little gray eyes full of water. "It's going to hurt a lot."
"It won't hurt, my love." you insisted, seeing her deny it.
"My princess?" Law bent down, reaching her height. "Come on, this is to make you okay."
"Daddy, it's going to hurt a lot, I don't want it." she grumbled even more, knowing that Law was much easier to convince.
"Doesn't your throat hurt too?" he asked and the little girl nodded. "I promise it won't hurt anymore."
"But what about the injection?"
"Daddy also promises it won't hurt at all." he reaffirmed and saw the girl come out of hiding, heading straight into his arms. "Babe, she's a little feverish." he murmured to you, almost despair forming on his face.
"Law, it's just a cold." you warned him, following him as your daughter rested against his shoulder. You knew that when it came to Rosi's health, Law was the most concerned of all.
"Daddy, it's because I was lying on the ice with Bepo." the girl confessed the information, adjusting herself to reach Law's field of vision. "I'm just a little sick, that's it." she created a small space between her fingers.
"That's great, my love." He placed the girl sitting on the stretcher. "It means it'll only take that long for you to get better." he repeated the gesture she had made with her fingers. "Ready?" he saw her deny it, laughing. "Do you want mommy to hold your hand?"
"Yes!" She reached out her little hand to you. "Mommy, what is this?"
"It's dad's way of taking care of us." You tried to sum it up the best way. Maybe she was too young to understand how akuma no mis works.
"Ready? First take a deep breathâŚ" Law imitated, holding the air for a while and making her laugh when she saw him puffed up. "And nowâŚ" he applied the injection to her arm. He knew it hadn't hurt at all, but the girl automatically started to pout. "My little princess, what happened? Did it hurt?"
"No." she said, her voice breaking. You both had to laugh when you saw her asking you to hold her without even moving the arm that Law had given the injection to.
"My love, what do you thinkâŚ" Law bent down to look into her eyes as he spoke. "We can go to the kitchen and stealâŚ"
"Bepo!" the girl stretched her arm towards the bear that appeared in the field of vision. "I want to be with Bepo."
"With Bepo?" Law pretended to be frustrated.
"He's warm and I'm cold." you passed the girl to Bepo, who was her favorite company. Law insisted that it was because the mental age was identical, but you always laughed at the accusations while the bear grumbled.
"What do you say we read a little?" Bepo suggested, letting Rosi climb onto his shoulder.
The two of you accompanied him to the living room, giving Bepo information about the girl being feverish. It only took a few words from the bear who started reading one of her favorite stories for Rosi to fall asleep. Law carefully took his daughter from him and started walking alongside you to the girl's room.
"I can't believe she chose to go with him."
"Well, you had just given her an injection, she harbored some resentment." you joked and saw him frown. "Maybe the next one will like us more than a huge, cuddly bear."
"Next, huh?" he spoke in a low tone, not wanting to wake the girl in his arms.
"Exactly. Or have you forgotten about the ten minutes hiding in your living room when Ikkaku was having a girls' night out with Rosi?" You saw his expression light up, a smile that you hadn't seen the first time you had this kind of conversation and that was one of your favorite things in the world.
"How long, is a month half?" he tried to hold back his louder, surprised voice.
"Yes, I took the test last week." you watched him open the door and place little Rosi on the pink bed. Before you could return to the subject, you felt him take you in his arms and lift you up, filling your face with kisses.
"I love you so much, I love you both." he put you down. "To be more exact, the three of you."
#fiction#reader insert#one piece#no use of y/n#requests open#silvers rayleigh#dark king rayleigh#rayleigh x reader#rayleigh x you#red haired shanks#shanks x reader#shanks x you#akagami no shanks#trafalgar law#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#law x you#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar d law x you
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The Beast WithiĹ
author note: Part 2. Part 1 here I rewrote this so many times. Some of them didn't end up saving but I like how this turned out. Not sure how long the series will be but going with the flow for now. Reminder this is an Alternative Universe to the cod franchise. Alpha KĂśnig headcanon found here. masterlist
summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.
tags: a lot of angst in this one. brief mentions of death. Cocky KĂśnig. KĂśnig asking for consent (he's trying). Mention of psychical violence. Mention of rape but not to reader or by KĂśnig. Slow burn, still no smut yet but I promise it is coming. World building, relationship establishing. KĂśnig is a crime boss/war criminal. I think that's all, enjoy! :)
Konig squeezed himself on your small livingroom chair. His knees well above his hips, his arms clamped to his sides. If this were any other circumstance you would have laughed at the sight. But right now you were pissed, no not pissed furious. Your fist clenching and unclenching, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood. You stomped your foot and pointed at the giant in the too small of chair.
âHow dare you!â you yelled at him.â You son of a bitch!â you continued to yell. KĂśnig didnât take well of you calling his MĂźtter a bitch, rest in piece her soul he thought. All he did was raise his shoulders and roll his neck. This chair wasnât comfortable at all and heâll be paying the price for it. You could tell he wasnât taking you seriously. His dumb smug face and his eyes blinking at you with indifference. You wanted to smack him, no you were going to smack him. You walked right up to him, nearly eye level with the sitting giant. You raised your hand and swung it through the air. Waiting for the stinging impact but it never came, instead KĂśnig own hand wrapped around your wrist. Squeezing just enough to feel the grind of bone on bone, just enough to leave a slight bruise thatâll be healed with in an hour. His fingers thick around your arm, he brought your hand to his mouth and gave it a small kiss. You yanked it back with disgust, turning away from him as he rose from the chair. His hips clicking a bit from the uncomfortable position. âHave you calmed down?â he asked. Brushing off your temper, your sweet scent had turned sour and he did not like it. But seeing you stomping around trying to act tough, he thought it was cute. It might even had turned him on if you hadn't tried to hit him.âYou must be hungryâ he proclaimed as he walked past you and into your small dingy kitchen. The light above the stove has burnt out the first week you moved in and you never bothered to replace it. It still buzzed every time you turned the switch on. KĂśnig poked his head under the hood and yanked the bulb out, tossing it in your over flowing garbage bin. You scoffed at his response, yes what a smug asshole you thought. But you also became self conscious of how you apartment looked right now. Sure you havenât cleaned up in a few days but you planned on doing a deep clean during your heat. Fuck, you almost forgot about your heat. It should be here in a few days, but now that youâve been claimed and marked you didnât know how that was going to play out. Still fumming, the only thing missing was the steam coming out of your ears.
KĂśnig began rummaging through your cupboards, opening and closing the doors. Trying to find something he could feed you, giving up and moving to your fridge. He was shocked to find leftover take out containers and cheap premade food. Unhappy with his choices he gave up all together, bringing out his phone and typing away his orders. First he wants a car dropped off in front of your house, having ran to your apartment. He also ordered for plenty of food to be stocked at his place. Tons of fruit and vegetables and he couldn't forget protein. He knew your heat was only a day away, having smelt it at the night club. You were staring at him while he did all of this. âGet out.â you told him. He still completely ignoring you until he put his phone away. You still smelled sour, your anger hadnât resided. âAre you not going to say anything?â you were going mad. âAbout what?â he finally spoke. Leaning against your counter, his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps and pectoral muscles bulging out from the tight long sleeve dress shirt he had on. This was the first time you actually got a good look at him. He had a scar running from his top lip up to his nostril, a childbirth defect heâs lived with his whole life. His hair was cut short, buzzed to the scalp a mixture of light blonde and grey hair. He was scruffy, sporting a five oâclock shadow the same coloring as his shaved head. His eyes were deep set, dark but bright at the same time. âDone checking me out omega?â he asked, his cocky attitude coming to the surface again. He smirked at you as a flush began rising from your chest and across your face. Thatâs it your going to slap that smug smirk off his face. Moving fast across the kitchen you reached up high, your hand connecting across KĂśnig face. The loud crack and sting followed shortly after. Once again KĂśnig grabbed you wrist in his bruising grip. Shoving you back against the opposite counter. He towered over you, completely trapping you in. âGet the hell out of my house.â you whispered. KĂśnig's grip on you loosened a bit, but he still held you to his chest. Cradling you like a father would a wounded child. Running his hand through your hair, a low purr coming from his chest. The only time KĂśnig ever purred was for his mother when she was sad. Itâs been years since that moment, and honestly he didnât believe heâd ever hear it again.
The adrenaline pumping through your body began to chip away, your shoulders sagged and your knees buckled but KĂśnig held you in place. All the emotions running through your veins, you wanted to cry, scream and beat him bloody. But you couldnât, you just wanted to be held. The dam holding back your tears finally broke and you began sobbing. Not caring that you are soaking the front of his shirt. Your new reality finally sinking in, the fear of what this Alphas intentions are. Your mother told you horror stories about groups of Alphas taking one female omega at a time. Raping her over and over again until she gave them enough pups to satisfy them. It scared you senseless as a child and still scares you now. You enjoyed the freedom you had, sure it wasnât luxurious but it was yours none the less. âItâs ok omega, everything will be alright.â KĂśnig tried to soothe your worries. Noticing the shift in your scent again, instead of the sourness from your anger it is now bitter, biting and snapping at him. âStop calling me that.â you sobbed. Sniffling and wiping your nose on the back of your hand. You pulled away from the Alpha, suddenly feeling very vulnerable like you were a sheep waiting to be slaughtered. How could this have happened you thought while walking to your couch and throwing yourself down. Still only in the shirt KĂśnig managed to put on you and the same panties from last night. Not caring if he sees anything, not like he didnât before. You curled yourself into a ball, letting your emotions take control while you crawled back into your mind, into the darkest corner you could find. Everything you worked for, the years of masking your scent and blocking your hormones. Poof, gone in a second and the man responsible is now looking at you like a sad puppy.
You stayed in that position for what felt like hours but it was only a couple of minutes. KĂśnig left you in your spot and went to your bedroom. Finding two small suitcases in your closet. Stuffing them with whatever he thought would be importance. His phone dinged, he went to the window facing the street. The car he ordered was parked neat in front of your apartment. He turned his focus back to your bedroom. He knew he couldn't fit everything in the car, not now anyways. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted most of this stuff at his place. His eyes lingered on your bed spread, you'd need something fimilar to nest with. Yanking them off and into a ball, KĂśnig began moving stuff from your apartment to the car. You still hadn't moved an inch from your spot, only coming to when your tummy began protesting its hunger. Oh right, you were supposed to go grocery shopping today. To stock up on not only food but other supplies for your upcoming heat. Youâve always done it alone, as a child your mother would lock you in the basement. Lining the windows and doors with fresh lavender and honeysuckle, hoping the sweet scent of the herbs helped mask the scent of a female omega in heat. You heard KĂśnig call your name, your real name and not omega. You crawled out from the dark corner of your mind, eyes focusing on the alpha that is now squatted in front of you on the couch. âLet me take care of you.â he wasnât asking he was pleading. He can smell your hurt and see it in your eyes. This place wasnât safe for you anymore, it never was. He got himself angry earlier thinking about another Alpha or let alone a lowly beta breaking into your apartment and having their way with you. He ignored the fact that he was the one that broke in, but he viewed himself has different. Not letting his cock and lust control him. But he wonât lie, he was very attracted to you. The moment his eyes locked onto your body moving through the crowd. It took him a second to single out your scent among the hundreds of bodies in that club. He was there on business, or he would never be in such a place. He hated crowed and loud spaces, his business partner knowing that chose the location out of spite. Thatâs why heâs now chopped up and fed to dogs, in his defense it wasn't the only reason. But there was something different about your scent, it was sweet like most females but there was something lingering underneath it. It burned his nostrils and filled his lungs, musky and heady. It was your incoming heat, he couldnât believe it. An omega.
"I'm scared." you finally admitted. Hugging your arms around yourself, trying to comfort and self soothe. KĂśnig didn't like any of it, not one bit. "You can trust me omega. I want to only love, cherish and worship you." now it was KĂśnigs turn to confess. As a child he dreamed about finding a mate, preferably an omega. To love her and take care of her. Someone to worship and kill for. And right now that someone was you. You took in his words, looking into his eyes. The burning flames swirling around the blue, the rich scent rolling off his body. It's not like you had a choice but you let yourself believe you chose this. You chose him. You nodded your head, which made KĂśnig smile. It was a genuine smile and not that smug smirk from earlier. Up close he was attractive as hell, finally allowing yourself to feel something other than anger. He had to be at least 200cm tall, weighing as much as a brick house. Thick in all the right places, his shoulders wide and legs strong. "Can I carry you?" he asked. Hesitate to touch you right now, you were so fragile he was scared your crumble in his grip. You nodded your head again, too tired for words and still hungry. A cramp began forming deep in your lower stomach, causing you to gasp a little. It was coming to the surface, spreading out across your lower abdomen and down to your uterus. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Not now, please not now. You begged the holy mother that watched over her children. You felt the slick heat slowly making its way down to your panties. Finally becoming self conscious in what you were wearing in front of the Alpha. KĂśnig was taken back, the sent of your slick filling the small space. His head began spinning and his heart nearly pounding out of his chest. The beast clamoring to get a taste. But he was in control, shoving the beast down and focusing on the present. Ignoring your sweet and heady scent, KĂśnig carried you out of your apartment. A few people were up early enough, watching has a giant alpha emerged from the door. Bringing you to the car and setting you down in the back were he shoved your bedding as well. Closing the door behind you has you untwined your fluffy duvet and wrapped it around you body. Burying yourself in the warmth and softness of the materials. KĂśnig sat in the driver seat, locking the doors and starting the car. Pulling away front he curb and towards his home and now your new home.
#kĂśnig#kĂśnig mw2#cod mw2#konig#konig cod#konig mw2#konig x you#konig x reader#konig call of duty#kĂśnig call of duty#kĂśnig x you#kĂśnig x reader#kĂśnig cod#Alpha KĂśnig#Alpha konig#omegaverse#a/b/o dynamics
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heyyo ex!Toji who just canât forget you and heâs FRUSTRATED with it, he swears he saw you on his kitchen at midnight (itâs not real) and touches himself while looking at your old photos that he still has.. hope u take requests
â : ex-bf! toji x fem!reader
⤡ tags : part one & two, ex trope, masterbation, pervy toji, needy toji, phone sex, dirty talk, mdni. wc. 1.1k
an. yesss i do and omg i love ex bf toji tysm ngh
oh how he hates feeling like this.
ex-bf!toji was so pent up and annoyed. heâs annoyed at you for making him so irritated. soâŚhard. toji never realized how attached he grew towards you. after the messy break up. he found himself fantasizing about you way more than he should. it takes him a long time to move on.
that is if he ever moves on.
âthe fuck..â heâd grumble, blinking twice to make sure his eyes werenât playing tricks. he could have sworn he saw you in the kitchen, hovering over the sink counter, bent over while occupying yourself, doing the dishes or cooking.
with another blink, you werenât there and he was back to reality, he scratched his head before a vexed scowl spreads on his pink lips. it was late at night, and he figured it was his own drowsiness getting to him â so he didnât think much of it until he goes back towards his room.
he finds himself in his bed, lazily leaned back before unlocking it to look at the collection of old photos he had of you, the moreâŚfilthy ones the two of you took while intimate. he scrolls to a specific one with you on your knees, tongue sticking out andâŚ.next thing toji knew, he was dialing your number.
he didnât have to go to his contact list because he knew your digits by heart.
he just needed to hear your voice again, touching himself at the thought and sight of you just wasnât enough.
âoh, heyâŚ.didnât think youâd pick up,â he breaks the silence. his voice was pitched, a hint of roughness in it. based from his breathing on the other line, it sounded like he was panting heavily. he lays back against the bedâcombing a hand through his hair before wiping his nose. âiâm not gonna sugarcoat things so iâm just gonna say it,â he grumbles, clenching his jaw before swallowing. âiâve been uh, fantasizinâ about you.â
itâs pretty late at night, and youâre still confused on why he called.
wellâŚyou probably knew. toji heard about your messy breakup. he just couldnât get you out of his head â he wondered if it was like that for you.
âyou fantasize about me?â you speak on the other end of the phone in a soft voice.
heâs always loved your voice, how sweet it sounded, especially during phone calls. the calm, smoothness of it.
âyeah,â he mutters. âthought i saw you in the kitchen today. and i got kind of hard once i was deleting pictures in my camera roll.â
ââŚoh?â you utter. and you couldnât lie, you were intrigued, who were you kidding. you missed toji tooâperhaps in more ways than one. you still kept the dozens of voicemails he dumped you. of just him talking, rambling, or even him talking you through an orgasm on the phone. âwere you touching yourself to me, toji?â
he pauses for a brief moment before grumbling. âyeah. you know i was.â
âmhm..not really,â you giggle. âthatâs kinda why iâm asking.â
toji inhales at your teasing, and he closes his eyes shut for a brief momentâyou wereâŚteasing him? he could tell by the tone of your voice. he tried to relax, squeezing two fingers down against his nose before uttering, âfuck, you should come over.â
âiâm all the way across town.â
âiâll pick you up.â
âtoji.â you rolled your eyesâyou forgot how persistent he was. you could hear the want and neediness in his tone. it was cute, not to mention attractive. he was like this all because of you.
he sighs. âfine, just talk to me.â
âabout?â
âtalk to me,â he repeats, and his voice pitches a bit more. that made you feel tingly a bit. you knew what he meant by talkingâtoji was a man, an impatient one that wasnât keen on beating around the bush nor sugar coating things. âi fuckinâ missed you. and knowing i canât touch you right now, i feel all hot and pent up.â
you think for a moment before humming. âoh,â and then you smile to yourself. âif i were with you right now, what would you be doing, toji? what would we be doing?â
âiâd be kissing your neck, softly biting down against that spot where yâer all sensitive,â he startsâand heâs panting again, you hear a bit of shuffling through the other end of the line. âiâd kiss all up and down your body. trace my hands down your curves a-and.â
âitâs okay, just say you wanna fuck me.â you tease.
âwomanâŚ.â he moans, and if youâd bet money that toji was stroking himself to you voice. he inhales and exhales, before swallowing a thick lump in his throat. the phone pressed up against his ear. âi wanna fuck you. so damn bad.â
you hum. âi bet you do,â and you were starting to get riled up yourself. toji grows quiet every time you speak, and hearing him sound all needy for you a bit horny yourself. âare you touching yourself right now, toji?â
âis it obvious?â he mutters.
âa little,â you coo, and itâs not long before toji starts to moan through the other line of the phone. his moans were low and pitchyârepeating your name again and again, you had him wrapped around your finger. âare you imagining iâm the one stroking you right now?â
ây-yeah baby.â he sighs. he hits his lip in frustration as his eyebrows press together, and he groans. âshit, âs not fair. yâknow what youâre doing to me.â
you giggle. âiâm just talking to you. like you said.â
minutes past and tojiâs jaw clenched, tilting his head back heâs just imagining the entire scene. your voice doesnât make things better, heâs visualizing everything.
your touch, your taste, even your sweet scent. that pretty perfume you always woreâgod, he wanted you. he craved you.
âf-fuck, âm gonna cum to just the sound of your voice.â he says. teeth clenched against each other, and heâs embarrassed. his face was flustered, flushed, whatever else. âall your fault.â
âsureee, itâs my fault.â you play along. after the long anticipating build up. toji cums, fisting his hand with pumps and watching how he made a mess on himself. a low sigh exits from his mouth and he gruntsâthe other like going quiet. âaww. toji, look at you, getting off to the sound of my voice. wish i could see.â
he groans. ââŚshut up,â before he hangs up abruptly.
you giggle before seconds later, thereâs a request that pops up on your phone â and toji wants to video call you. probably so you could see the mess you made him make.
#â
vegasbaby.#toji x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#tw sex#toji fushiguro x reader
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Okay, you still have a spot. Great. I thought they'd be filled so, I didn't send anything lmao. Insomnia has its perks.
This is deeply self-indulgent and I'd love more Hao from you. So, hear me out, Minghao with a breeding kink. I feel like it doesn't get enough attention especially given how much that man gravitates towards babies lol. Like he and Reader visit Cheol's and see him with his new baby and, Hao's like oh, wait a minute. I think this is making me feel some type of way.
â terrified â˘
minghao has a knack for keeping the things you tell him in mind. from your favorite brand of wine to how the idea of bearing children terrifies youâhe remembers all of it. so your husband is in a bit of a crisis when he realizes that this newfound desire to start a family kind of clashes with something you trusted him to respect.
â
FEATURING;Â minghao x f!reader
â
 WORD COUNT; 4.4k words
â
 TAGS; idolverse, established relationship, hao trying (and failing) to play it cool about the wanting-to-be-a-father thing, brief discussion abt family planning, this is only a little sad bc hao has overthinkeritis, smut (MINORS DNI!)
â
 WARNINGS; mentions of pregnancy and childbirth but nothing too graphic
â
 NOTES; i scheduled to post this when it hit exactly 12 midnight in rj's timezone just in time for her birthday :> (pls look away if i got the schedule wrong,,,) i'm not really back yet bcs this is a queued post, but happy birthday, beloved. i love you more than i can say directly, so i decided to just write a fic for you instead! hopefully, i can come back and torment you with every other seventeen member BUT cheol soon :3c
â
SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, multiple rounds, mating press, hao is just really feral in this yk
â
PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz
â
MINGHAO TAGLIST; @haoxiaoba - @jeonride - @coffeestay - @hyvnae
In the height of his career as an idol, Xu Minghao filmed a certain piece of content where he was asked a normal question to which he responded with a slightly controversial answer.
"How many kids do you want in the future?"
"Oh, It's not me who'll give birth, so I can't be the one to decide."
It's a response that made waves on the Internet during the week the video was first postedâa reaction from both fans and casual netizens alike that Minghao definitely did not anticipate that he would receive when they packed up the set several months prior.
It's pretty much the logical answer, isn't it? Sure, he'd love to have kids someday, but the quantity isn't something he should decide on without his non-existent partner's input.
Minghao learns further down the road, when he finally meets and eventually gets together with you, that the number of children isn't the only thing that a couple should mutually agree on.
"I don't really want to have kids..."
You tell him this during a spontaneous date he deigned to take you out on. He just came back from a tour packed with a long list of stops and even if he should probably catch up on some sleep, he opted to have a picnic with you at the park because of how much he missed you.
Your cheeks are stuffed with a few bites of pie, thoughtfully chewing as you wait for Minghao's response to your sudden confession. If he didn't know you as well as he does, he wouldn't have sensed the waves of anxiety rolling off of you in wavesâas if you're waiting for him to get mad at you for simply being honest.
Mingao heaves a quiet sigh before he pulls you into his chestâa tiny squeak caught in your throat after swallowing your food.
"Hey, that doesn't make me love you any less," he murmurs, pressing his lips on top of your head. "I know bearing children can be terrifying and painful, so I completely understand."
For a moment, your brow dips, a soft frown tugging at your lips. "I-It's not that I'm terrified... Okay, maybe a little. Butâ"
Minghao promptly silences your protests with a firm kiss on your lipsâone that you find yourself easily melting into given the time and distance that's separated you until this moment. He smiles against your mouth, glad that you can be honest with him about things like this.
"No buts, if you don't want to have kids, that's alright," he murmurs before pulling away. "Maybe we can just get a dog. You're already close with Mingyu, aren't you?"
That makes you snicker. "You're so mean."
It's a brief exchange that Minghao doesn't really think about again for several years. After all, his career as an idol was at an all-time high. As much as he wants to settle down with you and start the next phase of his life, he's certain that he shouldn't step out of the limelight just yet.
But it doesn't take long for time to catch up with him.
One by one, his brothers are off to fulfill their mandatory service and the group's activities are at a momentary standstill. Those who were left behind go their separate ways for a whileâJoshua expanding his solo promotions in the US and Jun taking up more brand sponsorships in China.
Minghao chose to stay in Seoul mostly for your sake, and the fact that this city is the only common ground between him and the rest of the boys. When Vernon and Seungkwan enlisted together, it was around the time that Seungcheol and Jeonghan came back with overgrown buzzcuts, while Joshua landed in Incheon for the first time in two years.
It was also the time when you and Minghao got married.
The event was celebrated among close friends and family with only a brief news article about the marriage of SEVENTEEN's The8 allowed by the company to circulate for a while. They did a good job at keeping things hush hush, and Minghao thinks it's only because it's been more than a decade since his debut that they're being so lenient.
But even if they weren't, nothing would stop Xu Minghao from making you his wife either way.
It takes a few more years for all thirteen of them to get back together again, but when they do, the first thing that Seungcheol does is invite everybody to his daughter's first birthday.
Minghao has met baby Suri a handful of times in the past. Seungcheol's wife visits them at the company from time to time, wheeling Suri's stroller into the practice room as her uncles all fawn over her until she's crying. For some reason, the only people the infant seems to tolerate are Jun and Seokmin.
It's pretty much the same scene during the party. Seokmin and Jun are the only ones allowed within a one-meter radius from Seungcheol's baby girl to prevent an incurable crying episode in the middle of the celebration. Soonyoung was not happy with the fact that he can't personally give Suri the little tiger plush he got for her, but Minghao thinks it's for the best.
But then, as everyone was finishing up with dinner, he saw you walk up to Seungcheol's wife with a familiar sparkle in your eyes. You're staring at Suri who's all dressed up for her party with a look of endearmentânearly gushing with how animatedly you're speaking with her mother.
Minghao doesn't think much of it. You and her have always gotten along for as long as he can remember.
What does catch him completely off-guard, however, is the fact that Suri is being handed into your arms and you let it all happen without much of a fuss.
Chan was in the middle of telling him about this martial arts move that he'd wanted to choreograph into a dance but as much as he wants to give the younger man advice, his gaze is completely glued to the sight of you with Suri in cradled against your chest.
It's one thing to see a woman holding a baby. It's another to see his wife do the same thing.
"Hao, look!" You quickly call him over when you catch his eyes in the crowd. "Suri thinks I'm worthy! It's been five minutes since her mom handed her over and she's still not crying."
The sight is so adorable that Minghao abruptly excuses himself from his conversation with Chan to rush towards you with clipped strides. His heart thunders inside his chest as you visibly dote on Seungcheol's daughter, and he isn't sure if he wants to give the feeling a name.
It eventually fades into a barely there throb in his chest when he drives back home for the evening. You quickly fill the silence with your attempts at looking at some properties in this newly opened residential area near the freeway and as always, your husband lends a willing ear.
"It's a little far from your company building, but it's much more spacious than our apartment right now," you chuckle, face alight with the glow of your screen as you scroll through the property's details on your phone.
Minghao hums before pulling over at a red light. "Hm? Isn't our place alright as it is? Why would we need the extra space?"
He half-expected you to answer with something along the lines of, so I can have more space to keep my book collection in or so you can have enough room to practice at home if you want to.
But all you do is let out an uneasy laugh, locking your phone before depositing it in the cupholder on the middle console.
"Y-Yeah, you're right. That was a bit silly of me."
The next time Minghao unwittingly makes the connection with you and the prospect of having kids is when Seungkwan's nephews are in Seoul for a couple of weeks.
While he and his sister are off to run errands every now and again, they typically ask Jun to watch over the kids because out of all the members, he's definitely the only one who can be trusted around children. Even more than those who are actual fathers.
But it just so happens that Jun is all the way in Shanghai to shoot for a historical drama, and for some reason, Seungkwan thought it would be a good idea to drop his nephews off at Minghao's doorstep.
"You're pretty decent with kids and your wife can take care of anything," Seungkwan praises while he ushers four year-old Hanjun into the room and eight month-old Jiren into your arms. "We'll be back for them after lunch!"
It's just as Seungkwan said though: Minghao is pretty decent with kids and you can take care of anything.
While waiting for lunch to cook in the kitchen, you both do your part in entertaining the childrenâMinghao pointing out different shapes and animals in the picture book from Hanjun's backpack while you quietly feed Jiren the baby formula that Seungkwan's sister prepared in advance.
So distracted with the sight of your soft gaze transfixed on the baby in your arms, Minghao barely notices it when the soup he's prepared starts to overflow from the pot. You scold him for being so distracted before he shuffles into the kitchen with his tail between his legs.
As he salvages what's left of the soup, Minghao tries to pull himself together. Sure, it's been a few years since you two tied the knot, but you made it clear years ago that children wasn't on the table when it comes to the two of you.
It's something that you both agreed on even before marriage, and Minghao isn't about to break your trust by saying he suddenly wants kids all because seeing them in your arms makes his brain short-circuit. He has more tact than that.
"Is it just me or are you acting a little weird?"
For some reason, you choose later that evening to corner him in the quiet of your bedroom. Minghao was just getting ready to sleep when you turned to face him with a frown.
"Weird how?" he wonders, praying that you wouldn't single him out like you probably will.
"I don't know, you were looking at me funny when I was giving Jiren his formula," you point out. "You only do that when you want something from me."
Your words make him sigh. Of course his wife would catch onto every nuance of his actionsâeven from his stare alone.
"And what do you think it is that I want?"
"Xu Minghao, we're already married. Cut the games and just tell me what's on your mind."
God, he really couldn't love you any more than he does now.
It takes several minutes, but you and your husband eventually migrate to the living roomâcups of hot chocolate in hand as you patiently wait for Minghao to open up about something he's been keeping to himself for a while now.
He's rightfully nervousâhands clammy around the ceramic of the mug that matches yours. It's Game of Thrones-themed with a dragon's neck acting as a handle. You kept insisting at the souvenir shop that its selling point was the unique design, but Minghao was pretty sure you were excited by the fact that the printed text changes color depending on the drink's temperature.
With that memory suddenly drifting into his mind, the tension ebbs from his shoulders. Though he tends to forget, you're the last person who'll condemn him for what he's about to say to you.
"I've been thinking of starting a family with you," he admitsâhitting his point straight to the roots. "But... I always brushed it aside because I know how you feel about kids. I don't want to force you into something you don't want."
It's in times like this where silence is more deafening than actual noise. It rings in Minghao's ears as you watch the steam rise from your mug and your husband lets himself stew in his anticipation, wondering how you'll choose to respond to his honesty.
Will you laugh at him? Will you be angry with him? It's a subject that the two of you rarely broach with each other, so he isn't quite sure how to handle whatever reaction you'll grace him with.
What Minghao never would've expected, however, is for you to crack him a relieved smile.
"Me? I thought you didn't want kids because having one would be detrimental to your career," you chuckle, taking the first few sips from your hot chocolate. "And you always kinda shrugged it off whenever I tried to ease the topic into the conversation."
"I did?" Your husband scowls. "When did I do that?"
"After Suri's birthday party? When I was showing you a couple of new houses?"
Oh. Oh.
"Shit," Minghao mutters, embarrassed. "I almost forgot about that. I'm sorry, love. It didn't occur to me because you said that you didn't want to have kidsâ"
"One time," you interject with a groan. "That was one time, Hao. God, can't a woman change her mind about wanting kids with her husband?"
He blinks. "But you said you'd be terrified."
"No, you said I'd be terrified. As an educated guess and to some extent, you're right. But it's not the having-a-kid part or the childbirth part that terrifies me, Hao." You let yourself breathe for a couple of seconds and it comes out shaky. Minghao has to resist the urge to reach out to embrace you.
"What terrifies me is becoming a mother."
The silence of the living room thickens when you say the words and Minghao feels his chest flutter with that same feeling from the first time he saw you cradling Seungcheol's daughter in your arms. Despite the questions swimming inside his head, your husband keeps his silence and lets you continue.
"Like, yeah, the pregnancy is going to be hell and god knows whether I'll even be alive after giving birth, but..." You hesitate, refusing to meet Minghao's eyes for reasons that elude him.
"Raising a child so they would grow up to become a good person is even more daunting to me... What if I accidentally teach them something wrong? What if they end up hating me because I can't keep up with whatever trends kids would come up with in a few years? What if they love you more than they love me?"
Minghao laughs airily. "Is that last part really a necessary measure?"
"It is," you insist before breathing out a laugh of your own. "Urgh, you get the point! It's just that... I'm not against having kids, but the responsibility that comes with raising one overwhelms me whenever I think about it."
"You know you're not in it alone, right? I'm your husband. Of course I'll be here to support you however I can," Minghao sighs before finishing the rest of his drink. "Whether you want kids or not, I'll go with either choice because I want what you want, yeah?"
"Yeah. I do know that. I think I've always known, but at the same time, I didn't want to tie you down," you murmur, tracing the handle of your mug with a small pout. "If we have a kid together, they might take up the time meant for your schedules. I never want to burden you like that..."
Your husband sets down his mug on the coffee table, carding his fingers through his hair with a disbelieving sigh. You were starting to fear that you might've annoyed him by accident, but when Minghao leans closer so that your eyes are leveled, you realize that is far from the case.
"Baby, our wedding rings are literally tattoos," he reminds you while reaching for your handâpressing the inked fingers together. "I'm as tied down as I can be and you've never heard a peep out of me after all this time, yeah? So don't you ever think you or our future kids would be burdens to me."
Playfully, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Kids? Plural?"
"Hey, like I saidâ"
"Yeah, yeah, you want what I want," you interrupt with a roll of your eyes. "I get it Hao, you're a gentleman. But what if I told you I want you to fuck me on this couch right now and give me your kids?"
The wording is so crass that it could only be seen as a joke, except the reaction it incites from Minghao is leagues more intense than a mere joke would. The mental image injects a rush of corrosive want straight into his bloodstream and Minghao swears it makes him a little lightheaded.
Your husband lets out a shuddering sigh. quickly lunging after you to pluck the mug out of your grasp and safely place it on top of the coffee table. When you look up at him so prettily as he cages you on the couch, the sight makes his cock twitch with anticipation.
"Then I want that, too."
Logically speaking, you and Minghao can't just flip the switch and go into full babymaking mode after a heartfelt conversation and a bunch of impulsive decisions.
For one, you were still on birth control. It would take some time to wean yourself off it and you'd have to ask your doctor if it was safe toďżź stop taking the pills at this point in your life.
Next was that Minghao and the rest of the guys are going to be preoccupied with their latest albumâone where all thirteen men are back together after years of being separated. It'll go on for a couple of months and maybe a year if he's going to take their tour schedules into account.
And because he doesn't want to be absent in any milestone during your hypothesized child's life, you and your husband mutually decided not to actively try for a kid just yet.
But that doesn't mean you can't pretend.
"Fuck, baby, your cunt's gripping me so tight," Minghao groans, nearly hissing as he slides his cock against the velvety heat of your walls. "You want my load in you, pretty? You want to me to pump you full until it's dripping out of your pretty pussy?"
With coherence having long left your mind, you arch your back even higher as your husband continues to plough you into the mattress. "Y-Yes, yes yes! Hao, feels s-so fucking good!"
He chortles quietly and even with your cheek pressed against the sheets, you can still picture the smirk plastered on his face. "Pretty baby's in love with my cock. You just can't get enough of me, can you?"
"More," you whimper, the muscles of your pussy tightening around his length as he plunges in and out of your sopping entrance. "W-Want more, Hao. Need you to fuck me harder..."
Your husband is quick to comply with your wishes, gathering your hair with one hand while keeping your hips in place with the other. Minghao slams his hips brutally against yours, making stars dance in the seams of your vision as the head of his fat cock bullies its way into your leaking hole.
He's so deep, you can feel him prying your cervix open with a promise that you'll be filled to the brim if you behave tonight. And with all those years of being a professional dancer under his belt, it's no surprise that he's got enough stamina to wreck you more times than you can handle.
The first orgasm blindsides you completely. He'd just been whispering both sweet and filthy nothings into your ear when it washes over you like a tidal waveâinevitable, inescapable.
(Doing so fucking good for me, love. Taking my cock like a good, good wife. You'll take my cum just as well, won't you? Keep it inside so it'll take and you'll be swollen with my child. Then everybody will know you're mine.)
The second time it happens is mere seconds after Minghao's own orgasm. His thrusts have started to lose their practiced cadence and even if you've been in this situation countless times before, the euphoria that sings in your veins makes it feel like the first time all over again.
Minghao's cock twitches before his cum spurts in thick ropes inside your tight cuntâfilling you with a warm sensation that has you biting down his neck to stifle your moans. The motion of his hips slows to a crawl as Minghao feels you clamp down on his length. Your pussy gushes around him with a delicious grip that brings him dangerously close to another orgasm with how good you feel around him.
"Fuck, baby," he swears, voice still hoarse with need despite the fact that he's fucking you into overflowing. "I love you. There's no one else I'd want to have a family with."
"T-There better not be," you say cheekily before Minghao is flipping you around so that you're lying on your back. The sensation of his cum dripping out of your ruined pussy makes your skin tingle with excitement, and the fact that his ravenous gaze is trained on your body isn't lost on you.
"Be a good wife for me and hold your thighs up," he whispers lowly and it takes you mere seconds to comply. "That's my girl."
You preen at his praiseâno matter how pathetic it would make you seem. After all, if there's anyone who get reduced you into a cockdrunk mess, it's most certainly your husband.
Minghao doesn't waste any more time, he pumps his cock into full hardness for a few momentsârefractory period be damnedâbefore gliding the head of his cock against your slit. Your thighs twitch every time be brushes against your clit, making you cry out with desperation as he gloats at your misery.
"Minghao," you beg, trying your best to hold your thighs up just like he asked all while he's taking his sweet time admiring your pussy. "Fuck me more. Want you to fill me up even more."
"Needy little thing," he chuckles. "You want my kids that badly? If I fuck you too much, you might actually get pregnant, love."
"Don't care," you practically sob. "I want it. I want you. All of youâeven your kids."
Fuck. He really, really fucking loves you.
Minghao needs little encouragement after that, gripping his cock tightly as he guides himself back inside you.
The new position makes it easier for your husband to pound into youâthe weight of his thrusts pressing you into the bed with enough intensity to make the wooden enforcements of your bed groan from the effort he's exerting. He splits you open on his cock, spreading your folded thighs as far as he can as he drills inside of you with the promise of another load.
"So pretty and pliant for me," he whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your nose all while the squelch of your cunt with each pass of his cock echoes in the bedroom. "My perfect wife. You'll let me breed this pussy once all's said and done, won't you?"
You nod all too eagerly. "Yes, Hao! I'll let you use my pussy however you want. Just please make me come again!"
"So demanding," your husband sighs with a wicked smile as one of his hands trails between your legs. "Hold those thighs nice and open for me, love. You'll feel even better soon."
"W-Wait, Iâ"
Your protests quickly melt into a hiss of pleasure when Minghao applies ample pressure on your clitâlathering his fingers with your slick before tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub.
He knows you so well, been with you for so long, that Minghao already knows the ins and outs of your body. Your husband claims that making you come undone with his own fingers is a practiced art and that he'll never forget about it until the day he does.
So it's no surprise how quickly Minghao manages to make you unravel at the seams when he couples his intense thrusts with the added stimulus to your clit. You're creaming around his cock in no timeâmuffling your cries in the crook of your lover's neck as he fucks into you with the intention of filling you up even more.
"I love you," Minghao rasps as he tucks your head beneath his chin, pinpointing the height of his own pleasure. "I'll want no one else but you, baby. No one."
Shakily, through a haze of delirium, you manage to say, "I-I love you too, Hao. I'll always be yours as long asâf-fuckâyou'll always be mine."
You twitch violently beneath the weight of Minghao's body and the sight of you so fucked dumb on his cock eventually pushes him over the edge. Your husband comes with a sharp breath, his white hot cum gushing into your pussy until it drips onto the sheets.
It's only when you've come down from that post-coital high that you realize Minghao is looking at you as if you hung up all the stars in the sky. You respond with a weak smack against his chest.
"Don't look at me like that," you grumble weakly. "I might think you're in love with me."
"Y/N, we're already married."
"I don't see how that's a problem."
As Minghao does the honors of cleaning you up after roughing you up all evening, you quickly realize that, really, there's no reason to be terrified at all.
Not when your husband will be by your side every step of the way.
⢠end notes: i wrote this in a haze so if there are any technical writing errors, i implore you to just ignore them for my sake <3 happy birthday again to my soulmate, rj! i hope you enjoy your day to the fullest and i also hope you like this gift i wrote for you hehe ^\\\^ like hao to the reader, i'll always be w you every step of the way (i'm just a lil busy rn, so i hope you forgive me !!)
#seventeen smut#the8 smut#minghao smut#svthub#minghao x reader#seventeen fanfic#the8 x reader#full length fic đ#lovelyhan#đ request#đ mutuals#rj đˇ#q: i always need queue đ
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Kinktober Day 9
Kink: Somnophilia
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Tags/Warnings: Â SMUT, Somnophilia, established relationship, petnames (doll, baby), p-in-v, f masterbation (brief), vaginal fingering, creampie, sex dreams (not in depth but mentioned)
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: You always tell Bucky to wake you up when he comes back from missions but you never specified how.
As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.
I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!
A/N: I know, I know. I'm late. Apologies. I'm going back to my home country for my birthday this week and I'm trying to get all of my uploads scheduled! So, I have the last few from last week to upload and then next week there will be a LOT of posts haha - Love Grem x
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Bucky had been on back to back missions, and although you insisted on him waking you up so you could make him food or cuddle him, he'd declined. He hadnât wanted to ruin a good night's sleep for you; he knew how precious that was.
"Buck, I promise I'm okay with you coming to bed after a mission. I don't care if you wake me." You'd argued with him before he left again. You had been adamant about him not sleeping on the floor or sofa in fear of waking you up. You much preferred waking up to his pretty face than an empty bed.
"We'll see, doll." Bucky sighed, pecking your lips quickly as he headed out the door. "Love you."
"Love you."
When the door closes behind him you sigh to yourself. Maybe one day you'll manage to convince him.
Two days before Bucky was scheduled back you lay awake in bed, vibrator on your clit, dreaming of your boyfriend being home.
Every time he was away you missed him terribly and it didn't take long for you to cum to the thought of him more than once (although nothing would compare to the real thing). Your pyjamas and panties are lost to the sheets, a wave of tiredness washing over you as you clean up your vibe and wash your hands with strategically placed wet wipes.
You roll onto your back and stretch. You couldn't be bothered to make an attempt to find your panties. You were doomed to your fate of being pantyless, sprawled on your bed, wishing your boyfriend were home.
Your eyes flutter, heavy with sleep. Bucky'd be home soon. Maybe you should propose the idea of waking you up with sex. You make a hum of contentment to yourself. Maybe you will. But then again, any kind of sex with Bucky is sex you want to be having.
Bucky and sex with Bucky are still on the forefront of your mind as you drift to sleep.
Bucky's mission finished two and a half days early.
His plan was to get home to you as soon as possible, flowers in hand as always. Due to delays it wasn't until past 1am that he managed to get through the door.
He dumped his bags and gently placed the flowers on the dining table. You had already gone to bed so he would have to wait until tomorrow to surprise you with them. Bucky scanned the quiet apartment whilst Alpine brushed up against his legs.
He looked to the sofa then to your bedroom door. Alpine mewled haughtily; every time he came home he'd fall asleep with her on the sofa but tonight it was different. He thought about what you said before he left. How you said it every time.
Wake me up when you come home.
With a pat to Alpineâs head, Bucky padded to the bedroom quietly. The door whined on it hinges as he pushed it open, but as he slinked through he could just about see you through the light in the curtains.
Bucky took in your sleeping form; tangled in the sheets and sprawled out almost entirely on the bed. You looked so peaceful. Not even close to elegant but peaceful and it brought a smile to Buckyâs face.
Then you huff and murmur his name. Bucky inches forward, thinking you've woken up. There's a miniscule amount of guilt but the thought of seeing you beam up at him quickly replaced it. But you don't open your eyes. You shift in the sheets, moving your hips upward and kicking the comforter further down your body.
You're so pliable in this state, relaxed and soft. Bucky only needs to tap your knee outward gently for you to spread your legs wide for him. You're wearing nothing but a cropped shirt that barely covers your tits. Bucky's eyes scan the covers and find your pyjama shorts and panties discarded in the covers; clearly you had some fun before falling asleep. He bites back a chuckle and looks back to you. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but you look so good right now he can't help himself. Didn't you say you wouldn't mind being woken up by him? You didn't specify how.
Bucky traces the insides of your thighs, curious if you'd stir. You shift slightly and hum in your sleep but you don't wake up. Bucky releases a breath he didn't realise he was holding, and runs a finger along your still glistening folds experimentally. This time you let out a breathless whimper and spread your legs even further.
Watching you mewl under his touch even when you're asleep makes his cock ache. He shifts closer to you, sitting between your legs for a better reach of your wet folds, his thumb finding your clit easily. The noises you made when his thumb brushed over your already sensitive nub had his free hand freeing his hard cock almost immediately. You writhed beneath him limply, your legs making lazy, half hearted attempts to close, but Bucky's broad body was in the way.
"Look at you, doll." Bucky huffed quietly, pumping his cock as a finger slipped inside of your eager pussy, making you cry out Bucky's name quietly. "Bein' so good for me even while you sleep."
Bucky adds a second finger shortly after, stretching you open. You were already so wet you probably didn't need it but Bucky was adamant to ensure you woke up to only pleasure. He can feel you clench around his fingers, your gently, sleepy gasps coming more rapidly. You were going to cum so quickly and easily around his fingers, dreaming of him no less.
Bucky removes his fingers from your pussy and you whine quietly in complaint. He gathers slick from your folds, running the tip of his cock teasingly up and down, and biting back his own loud groan. You feel ridiculously silky and wet but the thought of you waking up with him buried inside you has Buckyâs cock twitch against your clit. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, watching your face as he does.
Your eyes flutter briefly, and Buckyâs hands come up to cup your face in the almost-darkness. When his cock reaches its hilt he tries to groan quietly; your pussy flutters and clenches him, still desperate for more.
"Bucky." You huff, head turning into his palm. Your eyes flutter again and you have the familiar toe curling feeling brewing at your core and the feeling of being filled to the brim.
"Yeah, doll?" Bucky murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your cheek. He moves his hips slowly, almost taking care not to move to hard too fast, although he's desperate to cum.
Your eyes flutter again but this time they stay open. It takes you a minute to register waking up from the sex dream you were having, eyes adjusting to the darkness around you. The weight on top of you, inside you, makes your pussy clench when you recognise your boyfriend's aftershave. Your eyes are like dinnerplates in the darkness but you can see the rise and fall of Bucky's chest, and just about make out the blue of his eyes looking back at you.
You lick your lips as you feel his cock throb inside you, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer to capture his lips in a sleepy kiss.
"Welcome home, baby." You mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist a little tighter. Bucky sinks back further into your pussy as he kisses your face, and this time you moan a little louder.
"'M sorry for waking you." He says, thrusts getting quicker. You're awake now, there's no reason for him to hold back. You're body is wide awake, ripping you from your sleep state and throwing you over to pleasure.
"'S okay," you pant out, your grip on his is still lazy and sleepy, but your body feels like it's on fire as he fucks into you mercilessly. Your first orgasm rips through you quickly, too sensitive from Bucky's teasing and your earlier me-time to withstand the pleasure Bucky is giving you. Your cry out his name with a whimper, turning to gasps of ecstasy as you cum over his cock and he smiles against your neck whispering praises as your cunt milks him. Bucky cums after your second orgasm, your pussy fluttering around his cock too much for him to bare. His thrusts slow ensuring he's filled you to the brim with his cum before stopping entirely to relish the state you're both in.
Panting together, Bucky rolls off you slowly, and you huff at the loss of heat on top of you.
"You okay?" He murmurs, wrapping his flesh arm around your waist. He snuggles in close, pressing kisses to your shoulder. You chuckle turning to him and pressing a kiss to his nose.
"Better than okay." You sigh dreamily. "I wanna wake up to that all the time."
Bucky snorts gently. "I'll keep that in mind, doll."
"I'm glad you're back and that you came and woke me up." You smile and cuddle closer into his arms. As you're settling next to him, your eyelids begin to droop, getting heavy again.
"So am I," Bucky says, yawning loudly clearly feeling the same unstoppable have of tiredness. Travelling home and fucking in the same night after a long mission meant he'd be sleeping well tonight.
You hum happily. "Love you."
"Love you, doll."
Wrapped in each other's arms you both fall asleep quickly, waking up the next to one another the following day and repeating the night's activities.
#kinktober#gremlin girly#gremlin girly writes#no beta we die like men#marvel mcu#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#kinktober 2024#kinktober2024#day 9
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cave
wc: 6.5k
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
part two of pretty when I cry
summary: Ever the man of his word, your boyfriend Joel finally fulfills your need to have him claim that secret little part of you.
a/n: welcome back besties. thank you so much to everyone that checked out part one, I seriously canât believe the response itâs gotten. again please heed the warnings and skip of you donât think this is for you. otherwise hope yâall enjoy my absolutely depraved writingÂ
warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, very needy/emotional reader, joel can pick reader up (Iâm convinced this man could lift anyone), smut smut smut literal porn (ok a TINY bit of plot), established relationship, age gap (not really mentioned in this one), so much daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, tiny bit of degradation kink, whole lot of praise kink, joel tummyâ˘ď¸, spanking, unprotected pinv, oral (m receiving), plug use, ass eating (brief), anal sex, subspace, joel is still a consent king, fluffy aftercare (these bitches are in love)
It wasnât until two weeks later that either of you brought it up. Youâd been thinking about it, that morning, admittedly far too often. The way his fingers and tongue explored the very hidden spots of your body, pushed the limit of what you can and canât handle. But you couldnât ask him, couldnât be the first one to bring it up. It was the game the two of you played, you being far too shy to voice this filthy little need, and Joel far too teasing to give it up without you asking.
But it was becoming unbearable, thoughts of him arising at the most inopportune times, whether that be when you were laying in bed at home, alone while Joel was working a double shift, or at work when there were millions of other tasks you should be focusing on, but all you could think about was your boyfriend finally claiming that secret little part of you.Â
And so tonight youâd decided to put an end to your suffering, devising your own little plan to set things in motion, one that you were comfortable with, and that you knew Joel wouldnât object to.Â
The two of you were getting ready, having made plans to meet Joelâs brother for dinner at 7. It was already 6:30 by the time you finished your hair, still dressed in nothing but one of Joelâs t-shirts and a lacy thong. Usually, your lateness was just a result of you losing track of time, trying to tame flyaways, or pausing to belt out one of the songs that came up on your playlist. Little did Joel know that this time around you were stalling, working up the courage to present him with your latest purchase.Â
You glance over to the open vanity drawer, and a tinge of excitement spreads up your spine when you see it. A small thing, silver all except for the red heart-shaped jewel at the end of it. You reach for it, the metal cold against your fingertips, a contrast to the heat that spreads up your neck at the thought of what comes next.Â
Running your hands through your hair one last time, you exit the bathroom to see Joel, fully dressed and rummaging through one of his dresser drawers. The way the fabric of his dark green sweater stretches around his broad shoulders makes your stomach flip.Â
You pad over to him, hands held behind your back, clearing your throat and he turns. He immediately registers the hesitance in your movements. âI um- I got you something.â You look up at him through your lashes, putting on your most innocent guise.Â
âSâ that right?â He quirks an eyebrow, already holding back a smirk. His focus turns to his wrist, snapping in place the silver band of the watch youâd gifted him this past Christmas. It was a simple thing, nothing too fancy. You wouldâve gotten him something nicer, something more high-end, but the year-end bonus youâd been hoping for never came. Still, Joel insisted that it was the greatest gift heâd ever been given, bullshit, but it still put a smile on your face whenever he wore it.Â
âYou promise you wonât laugh?â His smirk widens.Â
âWhy would I laugh?â
âJust promise!â You frown at him before giving his chest a little shove, but heâs quick to respond, grabbing your wrist and pulling, closing the space between you.
âPromise.â You say it softer this time, looking up at him, ignoring the way your thighs instinctively clench from how far you have to bend your neck just to meet his gaze.Â
âI promise.â He plants a kiss on your forehead, his expression softening. âI wonât laugh.â
And he doesnât. In fact, his smirk falls completely when you reveal whatâs in your free hand, extending your palm to him. He takes it from you, turning it over in his fingers, something darkens in his eyes.Â
âDirty little girl,â he says under his breath, his attention still focused on the small metal plug in his hand. He turns away from you for only a moment to grab his phone from the dresser.Â
âWhat are you doing?â
âTextinâ Tommy that weâre gonna be late,â he says it like itâs the most obvious thing in the world.Â
âNo wait, Iâll be quick. Iâm almost ready-â
âUh-uh, baby.â He takes exacting steps towards you, forcing you to retreat backward, nearly falling over when your calves meet the edge of his bed. âNot goinâ anywhere yet.â He swiftly turns you, manhandling you against his chest, and dips his mouth to your ear. âBend over.â
A shiver runs down your spine, yet you canât ignore the heat continuing to spread across your face. âR-right now? Joel, are you serious?â
âYou bet I am.â His hand comes down with a firm slap to your ass and you gasp, the arm heâs looped around your midsection keeping you from falling forward onto the bed. Wet drips from your core when he does the same to the other side. âThought you were gonna get away with this, baby? Fâ youâre gonna act like a fucking whore, Iâm gonna treat you like one. Bend over.â
You shudder slightly at his words, but do as he says, slowly lowering your upper half, whining when he pushes you the last few inches, your brain already gone fuzzy from the roughness of his movements. A part of you expected this, knew that Joel wouldnât accept your gift and just move on with the rest of the night. So itâs no surprise that when he pulls your thong to the side, your pussy is already glistening with slick.Â
âJesus, baby,â he lets out a breath behind you, running his knuckles along your seam making you shiver. âAlways so fucking wet, so ready fâ me.â
âJust for you, Daddy,â you sigh against the mattress, rocking your lower half back, seeking friction.Â
Joel lets out a strangled grunt from behind you, one hand squeezing your ass cheek. Itâs taking everything in him not to ruin you right then and there, but he restrains himself, knowing that the two of you wouldnât make it out the front door if he gave in.Â
You suck in a breath when the cold metal presses against your cunt, slipping through your folds with ease, gathering slick. âGonna be able to behave yourself at dinner, baby? Donât want Tommy gettinâ suspicious.â
You whimper slightly as the tip presses into the cleft of your ass, squirming at the action and the almost belittling tone of his voice. âDonât want him to know how much of a goddamn slut you are for me, huh?â He delivers another stinging slap just as the plug breaches your tight hole. âAnswer me.â
âI-Iâll behave!â The words tumble from your mouth. âIâll be good, daddy- p-promise.â
âI know, baby. Always such a good girl fâ me.â His words are so dizzying you donât even realize that heâs fitted the plug completely inside of you until his knuckles graze your ass. Itâs not what you had expected, not painful or uncomfortable in any way. It feels good, being this full, the slight stretch making your lower half shake with anticipation.Â
âThat feel okay, pretty girl?â His voice softens the same way it always does when heâs checking in with you.Â
âMhm,â you nod against the mattress, a content smile spread across your face.Â
âGood. Now go get dressed âfore Tommy starts askinâ questions.â
He plants one last slap on your bottom, softer than the others, but the way it reverberates across your skin and through the toy now deep inside you makes you gasp, your senses now on high alert. Maybe this wasnât going to be as easy as you thought.
You make it through the better part of dinner without any slip-ups, just a regular evening with your boyfriend and his brother who youâve come to befriend over your time knowing him.
Youâre barely paying attention, focused on the story Tommy is telling when Joel curves a finger through the back loop of your jeans and pulls. You choke on your water at the sudden feeling, the seam of your jeans digging into you, pressing tightly against the toy youâd nearly forgotten about at this point. Something white-hot shoots up your spine and settles in your lower belly. Tommy pauses and shoots you a worried look as you cough unexpectedly, obviously unaware of Joelâs actions. You notice Joel holding back a smirk from the corner of your eye.Â
âWoah- hey, ya alright darlinâ?â Tommy asks, looking to Joel whoâs started patting your back softly, a forced expression of concern written across his features. It takes everything in you not to slap the look right off his face then and there.Â
âIâm fine, yeah- sorry.â You try to ignore the obvious blush spreading across your cheeks, still attempting to catch your breath while also fighting against the growing heat pulsing through your core.Â
âYou sure, honey? Youâre all flushed,â Joel says.Â
âSaid Iâm fine,â you almost snap at Joel, immediately regretting your tone when he shoots you a warning look, a brow raised as if daring you to continue.
âSorry, Tommy.â You turn to the younger Miller, disregarding the way Joelâs palm has started kneading the flesh of your lower back, only making your head spin more. âPlease go on. Iâm alright.â He looks between the two of you a bit hesitantly for only a moment before continuing his story.Â
And suddenly itâs all you can think about, the feeling of the plug pressing into your most sensitive spots, the fullness of it all, only made worse by Joelâs continuous teasing, his seemingly harmless touching.Â
When you finally make it to Joelâs truck after bidding Tommy goodnight, youâre an absolute mess. Practically soaked through your panties, squirming against the leather of your seat. And Joel knows, revels in it, confirmed by the shit-eating grin he exhibits the entire ride home, while his hand softly grips the plushness of your thigh, only deepening your need.Â
Youâre on him as soon as you pass the threshold of his front door, clawing at his chest, a rabid little thing. He appeases you almost instinctively, pushing you against the opposite wall and pinning your wrists by your head as he roughly presses his mouth to yours. You writhe against his grip, whimpering when he takes his free hand to angle your jaw upward, giving his tongue access to plunge deep into your mouth. You hook a leg around his waist, grinding against his thigh, and finally, a tiny ounce of your ache dissipates.Â
But just as quickly as it started, Joel removes himself from you, turning away and walking into the living room. He plops down on the couch, kicking his shoes off and leaning back against the cushions. The look on his face is maddening, cocky son of a bitch.
âCâmere,â he says from his seat on the couch, his legs spread wide. If you werenât so painfully desperate youâd refuse him for being so smug, but luckily for Joel, you need him about as much as you need air to breathe in this moment.Â
You canât help but eye the growing tightness in his jeans as you approach him, the sight making you a little dizzy in your movements. He stops you when you attempt to straddle him, placing a hand firmly on your lower belly, and looking up at you with a devilish smile. He toys with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. Off. Itâs all the command you need before crossing your arms over your body and lifting the fabric from your torso.Â
Your shirtâs not even pulled over your head before his deft fingers are unbuttoning your pants and tugging them along with your panties down to your ankles. He leans forward, gripping your calf, and helps you step out of them, popping your shoes off in the process, and quickly tosses your clothes aside. His hand travels up your leg, sending goosebumps across your bare skin. A small yelp escapes your lips when he pulls you onto his lap by the back of your thigh, but you quickly melt into him as your knees sink into the couch on either side of him.Â
He runs his hands up and down your sides and you shiver. âSo sensitive, baby,â he tsks. You canât help the blush that spreads across your cheeks from your desperation. It was pathetic really, how much you need him in this moment, how much your body craved even his lightest touch. It was pathetic really, how much of your need now dripped onto his still-clothed crotch, soaking through the material.Â
His hands move to cup your tits, thumbing your already peaked nipples through the thin fabric before expertly unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing. Youâre suddenly all too aware of how clothed Joel is, a stark contrast to your naked form, yet the image sends another wave of slick weeping from your core. You allow your head to fall forward onto his shoulder, mouthing at his sweater to muffle your cries, when he tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers.Â
âSh, I know. Iâve got you, little one.â He continues his slow torment, smoothing his hands along your bare skin, his smirk growing with each of your whines and whimpers. Youâre like putty in his hands, completely at his mercy, a plaything for him to do with what he pleases. Your breath hitches when his hands travel to your ass, two of his fingers pressing lightly against the now exposed plug, sending a jolt through your whole body.Â
He brings his mouth to your ear, nips at it, before whispering âYou want me to fuck you here, baby?â He says it like a secret, only for the two of you to ever hear. Thatâs when everything starts to ache, the feeling in your lower belly so warm and unfurling, that you fear you may start sobbing if he doesnât end his teasing soon.Â
âPlease, daddy.â You sniffle into the spot connecting his neck and shoulder. âWant it so bad, please.â
âSuch good manners, baby.â One of his hands slides up your back to the nape of your neck where he grips you, pulling you back to meet his gaze. âMâ gonna give you what you want, sweet girl.â Your heart rate quickens, excitement bubbling in your chest.
âBut not tonight.â
And just like that your heart sinks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at his sudden declination. Youâd feel foolish for it, overly emotional if it wasnât Joelâs lap you were sitting on. He knows how you get, how reactive you can be, especially when you have your heart set on something. You shake your head and lean away from him, your eyes casting down to your lap, shame beginning to bubble in your chest. You have the sudden urge to cover yourself, wrapping your arms around your chest, a little voice in the back of your head telling you that itâs your fault, that youâd done something wrong to make him deny you, deny himself, of this.Â
âHey,â he says it so so softly. His hands run up and down your biceps, as if heâs attempting to pull your focus from the insecurities he knows are settling in your brain âIâm not doing this to punish you, understand?â You sniffle again, a tear threatens to fall from your lower lashes.Â
âLook at me,â he says sternly. You reluctantly meet his gaze. âTell me you understand.â
You want to shake your head no, want to beg him to change his mind, whine and pout until he gives you what you want, but as much as you know Joelâs a man of his word, you also know heâs nearly impossible to sway once his mind is made up.Â
âI understand.â
âGood.âÂ
He gives you a moment to collect yourself, thumbing your tears away and pulling you back against his chest. You unwrap your arms from yourself, instead latching them around Joelâs neck. âIâm gonna give you what you want, baby. Just gotta have some patience. Want this to be good for you.â He rubs your back soothingly, kissing your temple. âDonât wanna hurt you.â
You canât help the huff that escapes your lips at his words, because you like the hurt. Like being subject to his each and every desire, surrendered entirely to his control. Joel knows this, knew this from the first time youâd slipped and called him daddy while he fucked you into his kitchen counter, knew this when the next morning he caught you in his bathroom mirror, smiling at the finger-shaped bruises burgeoning across the flesh of your hips.Â
Joel knows you like the hurt, and part of him canât deny how utterly irresistible he finds you when you beg him to push just a little further, to be a little rougher. But he also knows where to draw the line, never inflicting enough pain to outweigh the pleasure he brings you. Heâs had experience with establishing this limit, but never in past relationships had he found anyone to be as persistent as you, as stubborn, as needy. And though it isnât always obvious, he needs you just the same. Itâs what frustrates him the most, not your neediness, but the way in which it clouds his judgement, makes him forget how fragile you can be. So he wouldnât, not tonight, not until heâs certain you wonât break.Â
âPoor baby,â he coos when you grind down on his bulge, the rough fabric against your soft folds making you gasp. âI know youâre not used to being told no, huh?â
You let out a squeaking whine when you feel the rough skin of his hand cup the entirety of your sex. You instinctively buck into his touch.Â
âYou want daddy to take care âa this for you?â
âMhm, please,â nodding your head against his chest. You almost cry when the pad of his finger finds your clit, swiping two delicate circles before pulling away.Â
âSh sh, Iâve got you, honey.â He lifts you slightly off his lap, a strangled sound erupting from your throat at the loss of contact, but he makes quick work with his zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his fully hardened cock, red and pulsing in his grip.Â
âCome sit on daddyâs cock, baby.â His eyes glass over as he pumps his length once, twice before urging you forward. He taps the wide tip against your clit a few times and you swear you could come just from that before heâs lining up with your entrance, coating himself with your slick.Â
He lets you go at your own pace, loosening his grip on your waist as you begin to sink down on him, inch by inch. Heâd usually stretch you first, make you come around his fingers once or twice before letting you take him in his entirety. But not tonight, not with the steady flow of slick thatâs been gushing from your heat all night.Â
You shudder once heâs fully sheathed inside you, your clit twitching against his pelvis. He lets you adjust, squirm a bit in his lap, before heâs bucking up into you, a bit of his own impatience beginning to show.Â
As much as youâve needed Joel all night, you know his teasing has had its own effect on him. Heâs been itching to be inside you since the moment you presented him with your little gift, it was all he could think about the entire evening, so it comes as no surprise that his movements quickly grow hurried. He fucks up into you at a frantic pace, meeting your little bounces with increasing force.
Itâs like nothing youâve ever felt before. The combination of his cock pumping deep inside you and the toy sitting snug inside your asshole. Itâs overwhelming, nerve endings you didnât even know existed now buzzing within you. Itâs only mere minutes before youâre clenching around him, right on the edge of release.
âLittle cuntâs hugginâ me so tight, baby,â Joel pants, his movements stuttering.Â
âDaddy-â you gasp, âmâ ngh mâ gonna cum.â
âFuck- thatâs it baby,â he babbles, his fingers move to messily rub your clit. âThatâs it pretty girl. Want you to cum on my cock then Iâll fill you up, yeah? So fucking full, baby. Câmon, cum for daddy.â
Your entire body convulses against him as you reach your peak, strings of curses and incoherent sounds slipping between your lips. Everything turns white behind your eyes, every inch of your skin on fire. He only fucks you harder, rubs his fingers against your clit faster. You donât even realize youâre on the cusp of a second orgasm until heâs pressing his free hand against the heart-shaped jewel still sticking out of your ass, hitting something deep inside of you. Then youâre crashing down once more, sobbing as your grip tightens around his neck, completely enraptured in the feeling as he fucks up into you.Â
âGood fuckinâ girl-â a groan sounds from deep within his chest, a few more bucks of his hips before he cums, spilling into you with a slew of grunts and unintelligible praises. He only lets up once youâve milked him dry, a combination of both your releases coating his length and further soaking his jeans.Â
Joel comes back to earth first after heâs caught his breath and carefully pulled out of you. He stands and rids himself of his damp clothes, now just as bare you are, before wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you from the couch.Â
Later, after youâre both showered and Joel makes you a cup of your favorite tea, the two of you lay in bed, your head resting against his chest, tracing a finger along the broad expanse of him. Youâve committed just about every mark and freckle to memory by now from this exact spot. His hand lazily runs up and down your spine, as you mull over where things will go from here.Â
A week. You talked him into a week. A week of doing exactly as he says, with no attempting to convince him otherwise. Youâll wear the plug when he tells you to, for as long as he tells you to. A week and then heâll divulge that secret little part of you that heâs yet to claim.Â
Joel lasts till Thursday.Â
Heâs done for the moment he arrives home from work to you sprawled across his bed, book in hand, with nothing on but a tight-fitting t-shirt and a barely-there thong. You knew what you were doing, knew it was exactly what Joel told you not to do, tempting him to go back on his word and cave. You notice his eyes darken the moment he enters the bedroom, his gaze falling to the red heart poking through the fabric of your panties. The same one he stuffed inside you before sending you off to work this morning, the one you were sorely reminded of every time you shifted too quickly in your desk chair.Â
âHey baby,â you smile sweetly at him. You swear you hear him grumble as he makes his way to the closet, pulling his sweaty work shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. You mark your page and set your book aside before stretching out across the comforter like a cat in the sun. The muscles in Joelâs shoulders tense when a soft sigh slips from your lips.Â
You nearly skip over to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection before he has the chance to pull on a clean shirt. He lets out a heavy breath at the feeling of your small fingers splaying across his bare stomach.Â
âHow was your day?â you ask, pressing against him more firmly, your head resting below his shoulder blades.Â
âFine,â he responds, his tone suspecting. You feel his breath catch as you press small kisses to his spine.Â
âCouldnât stop thinkinâ about you today,â your voice goes softer, a hidden plea behind your words.Â
âSâ that right?â His severity wanes, an opening.
âMhm,â you hum against him, dragging your blunt nails across his skin. âNeed you so bad, Daddy.â
ââM right here, baby.â He pretends to not know what youâre talking about, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops, acting like your fingers arenât dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans. You know he can see right through you, has always seen right through you, his refusal to admit it in this moment only makes your need deepen.Â
âPlease, Joel,â you whine softly, errant fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his boxers. âI almost started touching myself in the bathroom today.â Your cheeks flush red at the confession, a low groan escapes Joelâs throat. âEvery time I felt it, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wish it was your co-â
You let out a small gasp when he snatches your wrist. He pauses, so still you begin to worry youâve upset him, that youâve pushed him too far. But then something shifts.Â
Fuck it. His mouth is on you in seconds, his tongue immediately gaining access as you melt into him. Itâs dizzying, one of his hands grabbing you just below your jaw, the other squeezing your ass cheek roughly. Your knees buckle just as heâs turning you around and practically throwing you onto the bed. You donât even have time to lift your head off the mattress before heâs yanking your panties over your ass and easing the plug out of your hole. Heâs quick with it, your body shivering as the cool metal slides through you, leaving an empty feeling in its wake, but it doesnât last for long as Joel licks a broad strip through your seam to your asshole. He presses his tongue there, gauging your reaction before heâs licking into you, spreading you with his hands. At first, you squirm away, the feeling of him eating at you like this entirely foreign. But then you're rocking back into him, completely lost in the rush of his mouth against your asshole. Sounds you never knew yourself capable of filling the room as his tongue repeatedly dives into the ring of muscle.
A strangled moan leaves your lips when he pauses, you crane your neck just in time to see a string of saliva drip from his mouth directly between your ass cheeks. He rubs it into you, pushing his thumb through the ring of muscle making you whimper.Â
âWhat dâyou want?â His voice is low. His thumb starts pumping in and out of you, fast and unrelenting.Â
âDaddy,â you whine, burying your burning-hot cheeks into his pillow.Â
âGonna need better than that,â he tsks, rutting his bulge into your heat. âOr else Iâll have tâ take care aâ this myself. Tie you up and make you watch.â
âNgh, Daddy,â you moan, face burning impossibly warmer. His thumb slows, giving you a moment of reprieve to gather your thoughts.Â
âWant you tâ fuck my ass- wanna feel you.â
âJesus-â With his hand coming down to grip your neck, he suddenly pins you to the mattress, muttering a short stay before you feel his weight lift from the bed. You hear the sound of his zipper undoing and catch him fisting himself in the corner of your eye. Your thighs tremble with anticipation as he moves to the side of the bed, planting a knee by your shoulder. Then heâs towering over you, his weeping cock right at your eye line, your cheek still pushed against the mattress, ass in the air. He looks so powerful like this, so broad and so commanding, so when he tells you to open your mouth, you donât even have to think twice.Â
âGonna get daddyâs dick nice nâ wet, baby.â Saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to drip onto the bed when you stick your tongue out. âThen âm gonna wedge my cock in this tight little hole. Howâs that sound?â You jolt forward when the pad of his index finger pushes into you.
âPlease Daddy,â you whine. He removes his hand, immediately wrapping it around the back of your skull, his fingers tangled in your hair. His other hand grips the base of his length, tapping the red-flushed tip on your tongue a few times before pushing all the way into your mouth in one swift motion, your nose scratching against the coarse hairs at his pelvis. It had taken you months to work up to it, taking him in his entirety. The first time you blew him youâd barely been able to make it halfway down his cock before you were gagging, but not now. Now you take everything he gives you, like heâs molded your throat to the shape of him.Â
âThis mouth-â heâs cut off by his own moans, erupting from deep within his chest. âFuckinâ heaven, baby.â
Tears quickly prick in the corners of your eyes as he continues his assault on your throat. A breathy moan slips from his mouth when you gag around his length after an especially forceful thrust of his hips.
His pace slows as he thumbs away your tears. âDaddyâs been so mean, huh little one? Makinâ you wait all this time.â
You whine around his dick, the vibrations making Joelâs breath catch in the back of his throat.Â
âYou like when Iâm mean though, donât you? Like when daddy treats you like the little slut you are?â He delivers a harsh smack to your ass just as he pulls away from your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. He moves to open the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a bottle of lube before rounding the corner of the bed, towering over you from behind.Â
âDonât need it,â you whine, head still foggy from the lack of oxygen.
âQuiet little girl.â He softly swats your ass before you hear the disappointing sound of the bottle opening, followed by the cool sensation of the liquid hitting your exposed hole. He rubs it into you, letting out a satisfied hum when he presses his thumb into your asshole with ease. And then his cock is lining up with you, itâs so fucking big, so much bigger than the plug, a small part of you starts to worry it may not fit, may be too painful.Â
Like always, Joel senses your apprehension, running his large palm soothingly down your spine as he leans over you. You feel his warm breath hit your ear.Â
âYou tell me if itâs too much, yeah baby?â He says it only slightly above a whisper. âMâ only gonna enjoy this if you do too.â
You nod against the sheets, immediately recognizing that the action wonât be enough for Joel. âYes, Daddy.â You crane your neck to look at him, eyes hooded and dazed. Something flashes in his expression, beyond simple desire, a need suddenly so evident in his eyes that youâd sit up and kiss him until your lips were raw if he wasnât pushing the tip of his thick cock inside you.Â
Itâs so much. Even just the first inch is blinding, your vision going blurred and your senses entirely rapt with the feeling. The hurt is overwhelming, the stretch all-consuming, but itâs so good, unlike anything youâve ever felt before.Â
He pushes in another inch and the pain dissipates, in its place a euphoric haze, where all you can feel is him, his weight driving you into the mattress, his hips rocking against your ass. You see stars once heâs fitted inside you, never having felt this full.Â
The noises Joel is making are almost pained, his cock throbbing from the tightness of your hole, all the restraint left in him keeping him from setting a brutal pace. No, instead he moves slow, focused intently on not blowing his load every time you squeeze around him, listening to your little moans and whimpers for any signs of unease.Â
âItâs a lot baby, I know,â he pants. âBut youâre doinâ so good.â His praises have you reeling, furthering your dazed state. âLook so goddamn perfect takinâ all aâ me like this.â
You donât even know what to say, all you know is that you need more, entirely lost in the feeling. Youâre always insatiable, greedy, whenever it comes to Joel, and he knows, revels in the fact that heâs the one that gets to have you like this, makes you feel like this.Â
Youâre not even sure what youâre saying at this point, what sounds are falling from your mouth, just that Joel takes it as a sign to pick up his pace. It brings you back to earth a bit, your lower belly going taught at the force of his body against your own.Â
Youâre crying out against the mattress, small fingers twisting in the sheets, tears forming a wet spot beneath your chin.Â
âFuck, baby câmere.â He suddenly pulls out of you with a heady groan and wastes no time flipping you over. Heâs pushing back inside you in seconds, resuming his vigorous pace.Â
âWanna see you when I come in this perfect fuckinâ ass.â Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his words, your entire body going limp against the mattress as he uses you. When his thumb finds your clit youâre done for. The messy circles he makes send you hurtling right to the edge. With a near-scream, every part of your body goes taut for a moment before your release is shattering through every inch of your body, bursting from your core like shock waves.Â
âFuck, fuck-â heâs repeating over and over as his own climax hits him, but you canât even hear him, can only feel him, his body thrusting into you, pushing you impossibly further into the mattress, his hands gripping the hinge of your hips, his warm release shooting deep inside you. Itâs the only thing keeping you here, prevailing against the potent haze.Â
With one final grunt, he stills, his breathing ragged and sweat dripping from his forehead. You can barely move, still dazed as he pulls out of you slowly, the emptiness in its wake further graying your awareness of reality.Â
You lift a shaking hand, attempting to grab at whatever part of him you can reach. âDaddy-â
He leans forward, carefully caging you in his arms. âIâm here baby, youâre okay.â
ââM okay,â you mumble sweetly. He brings one of his hands to your hair, gently running his fingers along your scalp in a way that makes your thoughts even more fuzzy. But the heaviness of his chest against your own keeps you there, keeps you present.Â
âYou did so good fâ me, Iâm so proud aâ you.â A tired smile spreads across your face at his words. He knows the effect they have on you, which is probably why he says it. But the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell.Â
âMy pretty baby,â he kisses you softly, and you further melt into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent, musky and woody with something distinctly Joel. The two of you stay like this for a moment, your arms and legs wrapped around his large form, what little remains of your strength focused on keeping him in place, chest to chest, a comforting pressure.Â
âHow do you feel, baby? You hurtinâ anywhere?â He says it against your neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there.Â
âMmâ, you hum, denying, still detached from your own body, not fully registering the slight tinges of hurt spreading throughout your lower half, completely consumed with the man in front of you, the smell of his sweat still glistening across his chest, the weight of his softened cock still pulsing and twitching against your thigh. Heâs everywhere, everything in this moment.Â
He pulls away just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. âHow âbout a bath yeah?â You hum in agreement, let him unwrap himself from your hold, and stand at the edge of the bed before heâs snaking an arm under your knees and back and lifting you. You instinctively curl your face into his neck, still wet with sweat but you donât mind, nearly your whole body already covered in him.Â
He sets you down on the toilet seat before moving to turn the water on, making sure itâs warm enough before plugging the drain. You sway a bit in place, thankful when Joel wraps an arm around your back to steady you. Usually by now the haze will have lifted a bit, no longer in this headspace, yet still your brain is a bit fuzzy, your thoughts and senses dulled.Â
You look up at Joel when you feel his thick fingers card through your hair, unsure of when heâd gone to grab one of your hair elastics. As he gathers the strands together, you lean into him, your head resting just below his belly button, on the plush flesh of his tummy, smattered with course hairs trailing down to the base of his cock. You nuzzle into the spot, breathing him in, fully content in this moment. You feel the muscle tighten when you start to press small kisses to it. He firmly grips your now fully formed ponytail when your mouth wanders south, interrupting your descent, and you whine.Â
âSettle.â You let out a short huff of breath and bring your gaze to his, resting your chin on his stomach as he loosens his grip on your hair. He shakes his head at you, holding back a smile as he finishes tying your hair back.Â
He helps you step into the tub first, guiding you to sit, before he slots himself behind you with a grunt. He pulls you against him, arms wrapped around your tummy and chin resting on your shoulder. You giggle softly when the hairs of his mustache tickle behind your ear.Â
He lets you sit against him for a moment before he insists on cleaning you up, lathering his soap between his hands and smoothing it along your soft skin. You start to doze off from the feeling, Joel keeping you upright against his chest. Only after the water begins to cool and your fingertips have turned pruney, Joel helps you step out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel before you start to shiver. He kisses you then, soft and slow like he could stay like this with you forever. And you would, if he wasnât ushering you back into the bedroom, telling you to get in bed and that heâd be right back.Â
He makes you drink a glass of water before taking his place behind you on the bed, his back to the headboard and the small bowl of your skull cradled against his chest. You slowly drift off to the steady beat of his heart.Â
I have so many ideas for these two so lmk if we want to see more ;]
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller fic#pedro pascal characters#joel miller au#tlou au#joel miller fanfiction#part two
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đđĄđ đđđđŤđđ¨đ¨đ¤: đđĽđŽđ đđ˘đđđŽđŤđđŹ
đđ˛đ§đ¨đŠđŹđ˘đŹ | An apology is definitely at hand, and Eddie cements it when he drunkenly appears at your house despite your clear disdain.
đđ¨đ§đđđ§đ đđđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ | Swearing, yelling, crying, descriptions of depression, self-deprecating thoughts, alcohol consumption, driving while intoxicated, mentions of neglectful parents, mentions of childhood abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, brief allusions to eating disorders, and brief mentions of predatory behavior.
đđŽđđĄđ¨đŤ'đŹ đđ¨đđ | So sorry for the confusion, I was simply updating the color scheme of this chapter when an error was found in my tag list, which I had to edit. I had to remove the tag list, but everyone who was already in the list or asked to be will still continue to be tagged as new chapters are released.
đđĄđđŠđđđŤđŹ | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
đđĄđđŠđđđŤ đđđ. đđĄđ đđđđŤđđ¨đ¨đ¤: đđĄđ đđđŻđđĽđ¨đŠđŚđđ§đ
You stayed in your bedroom. Not studying. Not reading. Not eating. Barely even moving. The concavity of teals and pastels with trinkets and knick-knacks that constituted the room you found solace in for the last twelve years of your life had swallowed you whole. The bookcase. The vanity. The dying plants begging for life in a personified reflection to your state. Your knees. Your fingers. Your sullen face in the smudged mirror. You listened to the sounds around you. The cars. The birds. The buzzing bees of the blistering spring. So lively, not you. Your father, the whirring indication of the coffee machine that kept him alive, the clearing of his throat, and the crinkle of his newspaper, as if he didnât proclaim the nastiest words of failure and disappointment against the child he fathered neglectfully. But you had everythingâfood, a roof, moneyâwho were you to complain, right? Your bladder is full, it hurts, yet you donât dare to move. You suck in a breath, forgetting to do so innately. Everything has become manual. Your breathing, your thinking, your will.
Youâre eighteen, a senior in high school, and you want to go to college. Which one? The farthest one. Youâre merely a girl, a teenage girl, a teenage girl deemed a slut because you were nice to a boy. Nothing more, nothing less. Until the next day, where you would be deduced to a whore, because that was the inevitable step for a teenage girl who was nice to a boy. And thatâs all you think of. All you repeat. Because you donât want to remember more. You just want to wait. For what? You donât know. So you think, you sit, and you wait. Just waiting until thereâs nothing more to wait for.
Maybe when you learn to let go, youâll finally be free.Â
-
Perhaps it was the jocular facet of Wayne Munsonâs personality that humored the struggling reality of his life, or maybe it was as superficial as he liked to quip an occasional joke here or there, either way, the same teasing line declaring his rambunctious nephew to be the cause of his exceeding agingâthe one that always got a good chuckle out of his buddies while sharing a beer or a shy giggle from the tired waitress who worked the overnight shift just to serve him his coffee in the early hours of the morningâwas vastly proving to be a coping mechanism, because Wayne Munson swore he could feel a new wrinkle brandishing his forehead as his nephew was on the verge of getting suspended⌠and failing⌠and arrested.Â
Eddie Munson truly did age the poor man into oblivion.Â
ââŚTwenty-two tardies, fourteen absences, thirteen detentionsâŚâ
Wayne briefly freed the indented grays of his head from one of his many beloved trucker hats before securing it back on. His calloused fingers splayed against his stressed eyebrows at an attempt to alleviate the impending pain with a heavy sigh. It was midday. He should be resting for his coming shift at the plant. But here he was, having a parent meeting with the principal for his twenty-year-old boy.
ââŚPersistent insubordination, frequent public outbursts, and repeated offense of inappropriate comments made against staffâŚâ
That one made Eddie giggle. Oh, Mrs. OâDonell.
âOkay, okay,â Wayne politely interjected with a tight-lipped smile, âI think I get the picture here.â
Principal Higgins scoffed incredulously, as he dropped the particularly heavy file of Eddieâs extensive high school record. âRespectfully, I donât think you do, sir.â Eddie rolled his eyes, as he apathetically slumped in the chair. âYour nephew has been tormenting the sanctity of my establishment for six years, six years, sir, and heâs in for a seventh after assaulting a fellow student on school grounds!â
âOh, please, Carver deserved it-â
âEd.â Wayne gritted with sternness.Â
âMr. Munson, I specifically warned you of the potential consequences of another detention or suspension, and you went ahead and disobeyed my word! Now, charges are being threatened! This is monstrous! Vile, even! Blasphemous-â
âI told you, that jockstrap deserved it!â Eddie sat up to defend his stance, blatantly ignoring his uncle's plea to calm down. âWhy arenât you getting him in trouble, huh?! Heâs the one that started all this shit! Going around and spreading lies about Y/N!â
And maybe this is when Eddie should have shut up, because the way Principal Higgins eyes bulged at the revelation honestly kinda freaked Eddie out a bit.Â
âMs. Y/L/N?!â Higgins spit odiously. âThis is about Ms. Y/L/N?!â
Wayne blinked between both men. âWhoâs Y/N Y/L/N?â
The poor manâs presence had long been disregarded. Once again, this had been extrapolated into a battle between Higgins and Munson, a long six year war that seemed to have no ending. And you, well, you fell victim in the crossfire, left unaided, to die, vulnerable to the vultures of Hawkins High that got to pick you apart free of consequences. Because that was human nature for a small town that capitalized the American Dream with infiltrations of conservatism and conformity for the need to prioritize normalcy. And Eddie Munson was not normal, therefore you were not normal. Because you took his fucking picture.Â
âIn my years of administration, I have never, and I mean never, have had this much havoc from two students!â It became quite astounding how much a single vein could protrude from a reddening forehead of a forty-seven-year-old man.Â
âThis isnât her fault!â Eddie burdened to emphasize. âWhy are you always blaming her?! You used to love parading her achievements around as if they were yours, and now that sheâs friends with me,â you werenât friends with him, âyou suddenly got your little feelings hurt?! Youâre unbelievable!â Eddie sneered with a heavy breath and condescending laugh.Â
Now, Higgins had been far too familiar with Eddieâs bite, but the abrupt revelation had the man searching for words that would excuse his exaggerating behavior. âI-I, uh, well, I⌠t-this- this isnât about Ms. Y/L/N, this is about you, Mr. Munson, and what you did!â
Wayne had reached his wits end, âAlright, alr-â
âWhat? Rightfully put Carver in his place? Yeah, I did-â
âAlright.â Wayneâs jaw was heavy with tension as a stern scrape of his teeth was gritted to end the commotion. âLook, I truly do not have the time to be doinâ this, so weâre gonna run this quickly.â He sighed with a hand massaging his stubble. âIâll have Ed apologize.â
Eddie made his annoyance evident with a loud groan and scoff, as he waved his uncle off.Â
âBut,â Wayne interjected, knowing his nephew would spew out more words that would worsen his consequence, âyou said it yourself, sir, that Edâs been âdisruptingâ your school for a couple years now, so I donât think another repeated year would do anyone any good. Right?â
âI- I⌠well, I, uh, I suppose soâŚâ Higgins mumbled.Â
âPerfect.â Wayne perched out of his chair with a groan from his aching back. âI think a⌠sincere, heartfelt apology will teach my boy a valuable lesson here.â He patted Eddie on the shoulder before yanking on his denim vest to pull him from his seat. âSo, no detention, no suspension, that way Ed will get to graduate, heâll be out of your hair, and allâs good in life.â
âI, well, I think weâre being a little too lenient-â
Wayne shoved his working hand in front of Higgins. âI appreciate your understanding, and Iâm glad we were able to come to a consensus.â Dumbfoundedly, Higgins shook the manâs hand trying to process everything. âNow, Iâll get in touch with the other boyâs parents, hopefully talk them out of charges, and Ed and I will have a long talk as to why we shouldnât hit people. Right, Ed?â
âU-um, uh, yeah- yes, sir, Iâm so sorry.â Eddie nodded, faux guilt casting his face, as he pressed his lips in and threw his round eyes of disappointment to the ground.Â
âWell, thenâ Wayne sighed, âI better get going, sleepâs not gonna catch itself.â
âMr. Munson, uh, sir-â
âAgain, thank you for understanding.â Wayne shoved Eddie past the office door, before sending a polite wave to Higgins, left speechless and open-mouthed, yet no protest could be formulated, as the Munson men were out quick with a slam to the door.
Upon reaching the empty halls of the school, Wayne wondered how ethical it would be to lean against the cold, metal lockers and light a cigarette, because he had no willpower to wait until he was outside. Wayne Munson loved Eddie, he truly did. It may not have been affectionately shown for the majority of his guardianship, but it was there; through every cracked joke, every greasy late-night dinner shared, and every moment when he would miss work, because Eddie always waited last minute to finish the algebra homework that he knew he struggled with, and Wayne was there to help.Â
But parenthood, itself, was a troubling journey, and when abruptly placed onto a man who had no desire to ever have kids of his own, it became devastatingly unfathomable. It became worse when the kid in question knew nothing but abuse, no hugs no kisses, simply fists and swears to condition his mind with the wrongful notions as to how to express his emotions. It was grueling.Â
Wayne cleared his throat. âEd.â
âI know, I know,â Eddie was quick to explain, âbut I swear, it really wasnât my fault.â His eyes pleaded to avoid the wave of disappointment he knew he brought to everyone in Hawkins.Â
âBoy, if this Carver kid and that girl, Y/N, are giving you trouble-â
âNo, no, sheâs not!â Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, and huffed. âI-I mean, he is, yeah, but itâs nothing Iâm not used to, so it doesnât matter. But her, she, uh, she didnât- I, fuck, look this is all stupid! Heâs stupid, sheâs stupid- I, no, sheâs not stupid-â
âEddie.â Wayne was seeing the younger boy Eddie had once been. Struggling with emotions, struggling with words, unable to process and formulate because he was scared.Â
âShe fucking hates me, alright!â Eddie heaved. âAll of this is stupid, and it doesnât matter, because she fucking hates me! And I canât even blame her, because Iâm an awful fucking person!â
âYouâre not awful-â
âI am!â Eddie sighed to catch his breath. âCâmon, Wayne, you know I am. I nearly fucking failed for the third time in a row, because I have no self-control and apparently no fucking emotional intelligence, and now I may end up getting arrested in the middle of the fucking school day. And she fucking hates me, Wayne, she hates me!â
The quietness of the hall became deafening after Eddieâs tangent. He knew his uncle didnât understand half of what he just uttered, but it sure as hell felt good getting it off his chest. And by now, a cigarette was looking real good to the older gentleman.Â
âI- shit, Iâm sorry, just forget all of that.â Eddie groaned, a tense hand running through his tangled hair.
âNo, no,â Wayne shook his head, âsay what you need to say. Itâll do you some good.â
Eddie suspired. âLook, Jason was saying some really gross shit about Y/N that wasnât true, and the only reason why they said all that shit was because she added me- uh, Hellfire to the yearbook.â Wayne raised an eyebrow. âI know, donât give me that look, like I said, this is all fucking stupid. Anyways, I felt bad, he was literally causing a scene in the middle of lunch, and well, I punched him-â
âWell, see, youâre not an awful person.â Wayne pointed.Â
âYou didnât let me finish.â Eddie, now highlighted with genuine guilt, casted down to the floor. âWhen she first took our picture, I kinda yelled at her, because I thought she was just being some two-faced cheerleader, which she wasnât, but, uh, after the whole cafeteria scene, well, she told me to just leave her alone, and um, I got defensive and called her⌠a sl- look, I just really fucked up, alright.â
Wayne puffed out a big breath of air. âOkay.â He really didnât remember high school being this cursory, granted it was over thirty years ago for him. âUh, well, did you at least apologize to her?â He truly didnât know how else to approach this problem.Â
âWell, no, she got suspended yesterday because of the whole yearbook thing. Highly doubt Iâll get a chance.â
âWell, make a chance.â Wayne waved off simply.
âWhat?â
âYou care that much about what she thinks of you, make the chance happen. Donât just sit around, do something. And if you really donât care, then just let it go and focus on graduating and not getting in trouble.â Wayne pulled out his pack of Camels. âEither way, I need sleep and you need to get to class.â
âItâs lunch time.â
âThen eat.â Wayne sighed, as he began walking away. âJust stay out of trouble, because thereâs only so many free car repairs Iâm willing to offer in order to keep your ass out of jail, boy.â
âYeah, yeah, sorry.â
-
âI canât believe this! I totally donât look like this!â Dustin shrieked. âThis is a terrible angle! And I specifically told the guy to get my good side!â
Mike laughed with a mouth full of greasy pizza. âYou look like the orcs from our campaign.â
âWho looks like the orcs from our campaign?â Eddie announced his arrival, as he took a seat at the head of the table.Â
âDustin!â Gareth guffawed.Â
âBut, hey, if you really wanna feel better, take a look at Stanley Godwin who literally sneezed in the middle of his picture.â Jeff stole the yearbook from Dustinâs grabby hands. âPoor kid and his sinuses.â
But before Jeff could thumb through to find the sneezing sophomore, Eddie had forcefully yanked the brand new book from his friend. âWhere the hell did you get this?!â
âI bought it.â Dustin answered. âThe Yearbook Committee is already selling them. But, if you want my advice, donât bother asking Nancy for a family discount.â
âYouâre not family.â Mike sneered with a playful shove.
And in true Dustin Henderson fashion, the boy audibly gasped. âHave the last ten years meant nothing to you?â
âIs our picture still in here?â Eddie interrupted.Â
âYup!â Gareth smirked. âFront and center.â
Eddie flipped through the extracurriculars, filtering through the numerous clubs before his eyes bestowed upon their photo. There they were. All of them. Their faces and names representing the Hellfire title.Â
âHey, howâd the meeting with Higgins go?â Jeff snapped Eddieâs attention. âYour uncle dish one out to ya?â
âUh, no, actually.â Eddie signed. âGot let off the hook.â
âWait, Higgins isnât suspending you?â Mike questioned, and Eddie merely shook his head in confirmation.Â
âWow, youâd think punching his precious star athlete would get you expelled.â Dustin laughed. âI mean, even Y/N got suspended for something less. Wish she was here, so I could thank her for the photo.âÂ
Your name had sparked something within Eddie. He quickly turned the pages to reach the senior class of 1986, and flipped until he found your face. Your fucking beautiful face. So pretty and proper, dressed in your best clothing, pearls shining around your neck, eyes glinting with perfection. You were perfect. Perfect. Down to the last minute detail. Your teeth, your lips, your skin.
Make a chance.
Eddie tore the page with much fervor in mind.Â
âHey, what the hell?!â Dustin whined. âThat cost me forty-five bucks!â
âSorry, kid.â Eddie muttered, as he stood from his chair, stuffing the torn page into the leather pocket of his worn jacket.Â
âWhere are you going?â Jeff catechized. âWeâre in the middle of lunch.â
âTo find Chrissy Cunningham.â
-
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot harder to find than Eddie had expected. She had been in the same lunch period with him for the entirety of the semester, but the one instance he actually needed to speak to her, she wasnât sitting with the gaggle of cheerleaders and jocks that claimed the best seats in the lunchroom. The girlsâ bathroom had been his best option, now he obviously didnât enter, but after he begrudgingly called out her name through the doorway, he felt like a creep and left rather quickly. The gym was his backup, but after peering through the small windows of the double doors, all he saw was Coach Monaghan loudly instructing scrawny freshmen through enervating suicide drills for the sake of physical education. And the health room was no luck, as the guidance counselor was enforcing teaching the importance of abstinence to a group of girlsâonly girlsâfor the sake of sexual education. More like purity culture. Eddie was running out of luck. His watch indicated the mere five minutes he had left before heâd be obligated to endure Mrs. OâDonell. But, by the grace of whatever god may or may not be out there, Eddie caught sight of the strawberry blonde sitting alone upon the writhing wood of an old picnic table just outside of the cafeteria. He walked all around, just for her to be a couple yards from where he originally was. Sometimes Eddie could only scoff at himself.Â
Appearing to be caught up in her own world, Eddieâs heavy footsteps went unnoticed, until he materialized into her peripheral, a startled shriek making him surrender with hands up in the air.Â
âWoah, hey, sorry.â He raucously chuckled, looking around to make sure no one could fabricate some false story of harassment against a cheerleader. âDidnât mean to scare you.â
But his words brought no ease to her- clearly, it was just yesterday she was cleaning up her boyfriendâs lip, because of Eddie. âI, uh, I- well, if itâs alright with you, I, um, liked to talk- well, ask you for something.â He softly assured, as she eyed him timidly.Â
âUm, a-about what?â Her voice could barely be picked up by the breeze of the afternoon.Â
Eddie took it as an invitation to sit down across from her with a tight-lipped smile. It was awkward. He took notice of her uneaten lunch, merely picked apart but not savoredâwell, as savored as school lunch could be. âSo, uh, what brings you out here?â Perhaps an attempt at conversation with someone he never even spoke to was too bad of an idea, but he simply chose the politeness path, as he ask was pretty hefty. âFinally got tired of Jessicaâs big mouth?â He laughed.
Chrissy didnât. Jessica had made a comment, one that sounded too much like her motherâs own words.Â
So when Chrissy sadly shrugged, he dropped the small talk and diverted the conversation.Â
âOkay, look, Iâm just gonna be up front.â Eddie sighed. âI need you to give me Y/Nâs phone number and address.â
Her thinly groomed eyebrows creased her forehead in confusion. âUm, what?â
âLook, itâs a simple ask, alright, I just need her phone number and address.â
âNo, I hear you, Eddie, I just- well, I just donât know if she would want me to-â
âNo, and I understand that, I just really need to talk to her.â Eddie pleaded. âAnd obviously I canât do that at school.â Chrissy stayed quiet with contemplation. âCâmon, you guys are friends- or were friends, right? I really just want to make it up to her after all the bullshit sheâs been through. Us being partially at fault because of it, yâknow.â
Chrissyâs guilty round eyes met his. âI just donât want her to hate me more.â she whispered.Â
Eddieâs mouth fell slightly agape, not knowing how to comfort. See, lying and saying all was good and merry between you and Chrissy in order to get what he wanted would have been his first solutionâthe asshole way of thinking. But being that Eddie being an asshole was the start of all your misery in the first place, he fought the urge to choose the easy way out and rubbed his face with agony.Â
âYeah, no, I, uh, get it.â He huffed. âAnd if itâs any consolation, she fucking hates me, too. Probably more than she hates you.â He smiled. And luckily, a sadden smile curled her lips, which was a start. âAnd I mean, rightfully so, we were jackasses to her.â He laughed.
âI should have stuck up for her.â Chrissy sighed. âShe always has for me. I mean, sheâs been my best friend for four years. But Jason, he just gets so far into this idea of what people will say and think, and he doesnât want me or him hurting from others' judgment.â
âSo you judged her instead?â He couldnât really be one to speak on the morals of virtue, as he judged, too.
âI know, itâs so stupid.â She dropped her head into her palms with shame. âAnd Iâm not trying to excuse it, I just want her to know Iâm so sorry, but I havenât had the courage to tell her.â She groaned. âPlus, her dad is really strict and really hard on her to be so successful, that I doubt heâll want me over after she got suspended.â
Chrissy drowned with dejection. Four years of the purest bond between young girls had been cemented into a cascade of hateful rumors and a lack of clear discernment that severed their loving connection that persevered them through the pinnacle of teenage years. As naive fourteen-year-olds, you both had stolen the locked up booze from your fatherâs office, and cheered one another on as you took a sip, to ensure you both appeared to know what you were doing when you arrived to Bradly Leminskiâs party. Turns out, you both had accidentally drank too much in the comfort of your bedroom and missed out. Youâd even watched giddily, as Jason Carver asked Chrissy out, after you ran him through the basis of what she loves, because he was determined to get her on a date. But through the woes of boys and high school parties, youâd both been there for one another through the deepest of tribulations, like when Chrissy called you bawling, because her motherâs words manipulated the way she saw herself in the beautiful dress sheâd been so excited to wear for the winter formal. Or when she held you tightly after saving you from the harsh grasp of a senior, Jimmy Saunters, who forcefully shoved multiple shots of tequila down your throat, and attempted to drag you into his friendâs bedroom when you were merely a baby freshman.Â
Her comfort had saved you, just as yours did to her.
âWell, I mean, you canât just not try.â Eddie reasoned. âLook, I fucking hate that she hates me, and I want to at least try to apologize to her, too, which is why I at least need her number and address, please. Iâm sure sheâd love to hear from you, too, whenever you get the chance.â
The school bell that Eddie had been all too familiar with screeched for the coming of class, and he jumped in hurry. âCâmon, Chrissy, please, you gotta help me out here.â The desperation became palpable. Chrissy turned and watched numerous students flood into the halls through the glass doors of the building. Caving in quickly, she rummaged through her backpack for a pink pen sheâd nearly worn through after the excessive notes from her third period. But she simply grabbed Eddieâs jacket sleeve, and utilized the back of his veiny hand as a canvas for her information.Â
Heâd ache his neck with a contorted twist of his head to watch the fading ink print what he wanted. A seven digit number lined the back of his hands, a small smile consuming his face, but then Chrissy started capping her pen away. âW-wait, uh, her address, too.â
âUmâŚâ
âPlease, I swear, if she asks, I wonât say it was you.â Eddie rushed.
Chrissy sighed, before quickly scribbling the number and street name of your home. Eddie cursed under his breath. âChrist, Pinecrest Acres? I got hired to mow some dudeâs lawn in that neighborhood one summer, and some prick called the cops on me for trespassing.â He scoffed, and poor Chrissy didnât know how to respond at the irrelevance of his news besides with an awkward chuckle. âBut, anyways, thank you. Iâll, uh, leave you to it.â Eddie saluted, as he headed towards the door.
But then he abruptly turned. âWait! Uh, tell your boyfriend Iâm sorry for the, uh, whole, yâknowâŚâ And Eddie laughed, as he mimicked the shocking punch that loosened Jason Carverâs front teeth.Â
The entire reason why he hadnât showed up to school that day.Â
âUm, donât you want to tell him yourself?â Chrissy sweetly proffered. âIâm sure itâll mean more.â
Eddie could roll his eyes. It was Jason Carver. Nothing Eddie did could mean shit to him.
He winced with a hiss. âYeah, see, I totally would,â no, he wouldnât, âbut since heâs not here, and youâre the next best thing, I trust that youâll pass on the message for me.â He smiled so sickly, Chrissy couldnât see the drenching lies of his words.
âOh, okay.â She agreed.Â
âOh!â Eddie perked. âIf Higginâs asks, I totally did apologize to Carver, okay?â Well, maybe there was still a little asshole left in Eddie, but at least he wasnât actively hurting anyone. Yet.
âUh, o-okay.â She hesitantly smiled.
âThanks, Chrissy.â He lifted his balled fist to bump with hers. It was telling of the fact that Eddie Munson had little interactions with girls his own age- or any girls for that matter. But she hesitantly bumped him back, nonetheless. âYâknow, youâre a really cool person, you should get better friends.â He affirmed, before waving a goodbye.
âTh-thanks.â She meekly watched him enter the school building.Â
While uncomfortable at first, the overall start of the budding friendship between Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson was one to look forward to. While they evidently had nothing in common, it was quite comical actually, they could find reassurance in one another that improvements needed to be made within themselves in order to speak to the one person they both genuinely cared for. You. They at least had that in common. And luckily for Eddie, in six hours, Chrissy Cunningham would confide to Jason Carver to drop any potential charges, and he would listen, because he loved her.Â
-
âFuck.â Eddie mumbled under his breath. He shook the nerves from his hands, and rolled his neck in preparation. âCâmon, you can do this.â
âSo, uh,â Wayne snapped Eddieâs attention. His uncle was staring at him circumspectly, as he shrugged on his jacket, âyou preparinâ for a marathon, or somethinâ?â
âWhat?â Eddie blinked through his messy bangs. âNo, Iâm about to make a phone call.â
âRight.â Wayne cleared his throat, studying the newfound nervousness of his nephewâs demeanor, which he hadnât seen in- well, ever. âIma head out to work, see ya tomorrow morning.â It was clear Eddie was waiting for his uncle to leave, as Wayne caught sight of how quickly Eddie grabbed the handle of the phone as Wayne, himself, grabbed the doorknob. âIs this about that Y/N girl?â
Eddieâs shoulderâs dropped. âShouldnât you be heading off to work by now?â
âAlright, alright,â Wayne mumbled, âjust askinâ. Be sure to eat dinner.â
âYeah, yeah.â
âI mean it, Ed. Eat.âÂ
Eddie, in fact, did not eat.Â
In order to not succumb to the nauseating feeling that was churning in the pit of his tummy, he came to the concurrence that a cold beer would extenuate the ferment that made his heart skip a beat every ten seconds. Now, in typical sense, Eddie had consumed enough beer in his lifetime, that a single one shouldnât have affected him to the extent at which this one did. But see, Eddie didnât listen to the wise words of Wayne Munson, and his gurgling, empty stomach rocked him to the edge of tipsiness far quicker than he was used to.Â
And before he knew it, his cold fingertips were jamming the buttons to the sequence of Chrissyâs faded pink handwriting, and soon it began ringing- shit, the phone was ringing! Eddie began panicking in place, wavering between hanging up and bringing the phone back to his ear. He hadnât even planned out what he would say to you. Well, he technically did, it was all that he could think about for the entire day, but each idea seemed unworthy to the standards you deserved, so heâd move on to the next thought, but then suddenly every thought was determined unfit by Eddie. Should he apologize? Fuck, of course, he should apologize, but for what first? Calling you a miserable bitch? An attention-seeking slut? Making a scene in the cafeteria? Yelling in your face? Making you cry? Jesus Christ, thinking it out loud, why on Earth would you ever accept his apology?! He should just hang up before itâs too late-
âHello?â
Eddie Munsonâs knees buckled.
He carelessly gripped the edge of his wooden table, and slowly steadied himself into the chair below. He should speak, but no words were coming out. His knuckle flew into his mouth, where his teeth brandished the tender skin with harsh indents. It was painful, but he couldnât stop.Â
You spoke so featherly soft, too delicate for his usual orotund tone. The one heâd use to berate you. âUm, hello?â
âH-HiâŚâ He pierced out, immediately cringing at the sudden loudness he uncontrollably spoke in. âItâs, uh- well, itâs me, um⌠Eddie.â
It was dead quiet for what felt like an eternity.Â
No word, no squeak, no air. You were obviously holding your breath, and the mere thought was tearing at Eddieâs heart. âPlease.â It came out so weak. âPlease, Eddie, I donât wanna start anything.âÂ
His stomach dropped, and his hands shook with how scared you sounded. You were scared of him. In the couple of instances he interacted with you, he scared you. Because to you, he brought harm. It may not have been physical, but it was detrimental, nonetheless. And you were scared. He was becoming the sole person he did not want to become, because he knew what it was like to be scared.Â
âNo, no, sweetheart,â he let out a shaky sigh, âIâm not gonna do anything. I promise.â He wanted to profusely vomit. It was the same words his dad had uttered to his bruised mom in order to sweet talk her out of leaving.
âI told you to leave me alone, Eddie.â You choked quietly. It was dinner. Your father was downstairs enjoying his takeout. Not yours. He stopped caring to ask the minute you refused to leave your bedroom. âI donât even care how you got my number, but I need you to not call-â
âNo, I know, sweetheart, but I really just need to talk to you.â His knuckles were casting white upon the tight grip he clutched the phone, as his lips brushed the bottom speaker in whispers. His other hand began insistently picking at the old wood of the kitchen table. Wayne would have a word with him about that. âI- what I did, I really need to tell that Iâm sorry, because I truly am sor-â
âEddie,â You gently interrupted, no energy to scream at him like your mind was begging you to do, âI donât want your apology.â You sniffled. âIf it really meant that much to you, you would have never done it to begin with, because I- I would have never done this to you. I would have never done this to you.â
His eyes clenched shut to mitigate the profound stinging of his eyes from the welling of tears his heart was urging to spill for you. He knew the probability of you accepting his apology was low, but his mother always seemed to accept his fatherâs after he sweet talked his way out of a domestic abuse charge. This is what was supposed to happen, right? You should be loving his words and running to forgive him, right? It was what he saw. It was what he experienced. It was what he was conditioned to believe. But you werenât his mother. And heâd desperately do anything to not be his father. Yet everyday, the image in the mirror was sneering back that sickening smile that destroyed Eddieâs childhood. So you werenât going to run in his arms. You were going to stand your ground, just like he wished his mother had done to his father.Â
âPlease, sweetheart.â A gritted through his tense jaw, as a tear stained his reddening cheek. âPlease.â
âI donât want anything to do with you, Eddie.â There was no admonish to your words, in fact, you were so demure, holding back tears of your own, because he knew the ugly truth that you were well aware of the fact that if you screamed, heâd scream. And youâd, once again, be scared. âJust let me be, please. I donât want you near me.â
The buzzing of the cutting line shot his bullet in his heart.
Your voice was gone, and yet, the phone stayed glued to his ear in hopes that he was just imagining it all. You didnât hang up. You were still on the line. You would take back your words. You would accept his apology. But your euphonious voice never appeared again, and Eddie aggressively slammed the phone back on the hook with a grunt of frustration. The heel of his palms stabbed into his weeping eyes, as his shoulders assertively shook with every choke of his tightening breath. Rejection, heartache, vexation, and patheticism rampaged his mind from any calamity, and before he knew it, the characteristics he so badly hated about himself were being proffered up to the surface of his being.Â
In truth, this was the scary aspect of Eddie Munson that resembled the harm he was verbally and physically ingrained with as a tragic child who knew of no hope. All rationale was gone, and wrongful devotion rooted in his deepest fear of being neglected with disregard had overtook his judgment. Standing with all fury, his fingerâs strained through the excessive flexing of joints before his balled fist broke through the drywall of his trailer. His knuckles split with blood, but it felt deserving to him. Who was Eddie Munson without the infliction of pain? Absolutely nobody, he affirmed in his mind. He was meant to suffer.Â
Chest heaving, beads of sweat pebbled his forehead, and the fridge door broke open. His truculent, battered hand grappled onto the torn yokes of the remaining three beers, hauling them, as his other hand reached for the keys to his van.
Eddie Munson was about to cause more harm.Â
-
âPlease, jus holâ on fâmeâŚâ His drenched lips slurred with beer, as his hand crushed the empty can he haphazardly threw into the passenger seat, where his growing collection stacked.Â
In the grand scheme of things, Eddie knew he was attesting to the predisposition of his role in this town, but he couldnât help it. A lowlife, criminal, an irascible danger to society. Would you actually accept him? No, you wouldnât. And he wouldnât blame you. But he couldnât stand the pre-conceived notion heâd confirmed about himself to you, and he was in desperation to speak to you. Unfortunately, Eddie had panicked, and this was happening in the ugliest, most horrifying and sinister state heâd ever been in. And you would see it all.
As lucky as one can be under the influence while driving, the cracked roads had fortunately been desolate, as nuclear families gathered around their pristine tables to lavish in the draining emotional labor of home cooked meals by their underappreciated wives. He rejected all red lights and street signs, stampeding through neighborhoods, drifting past turns, and steadily accelerating until heâd approached the spotlighted sign of Pinecrest Acres. The affluenceâactually the beer and sharp curvesâmade his stomach turn in disgust. The aristocrats of Hawkins housed together, where they frolicked with no worries in the prolific assortment of two-stories, pool houses, parterres, and vintage cars, all while the struggling families of Forest Hills had to huddle with worn blankets to survive the blistering winters of Indiana. Ronald Reaganâs conservatism sure had an ascendancy on this place. He came to an abrupt stop after his headlights reflected the engraved 630 of your mailbox. â6⌠3⌠0 Pinecrest fucking Acres.â He mumbled. Â
His tire ran over the curb of your street before he pulled the keys from the ignition. For a second, he stopped. His breathing was becoming suffocating, as his chest fervently raised with each depth of an inhale. His hand found the door handle faster than his mind could process, and soon he was stumbling on inebriated legs to the front lawn of your house. Honestly, if your dad had found him, he would have shot him, but the man had driven himself into bed after downing the entirety of his rum.Â
Eddieâs eyes scaled the height of the house. âFuck me.â Maybe he shouldnât have chugged four beers. He cleared his throat. His joints echoed in a rhythmic sequence of pops, as he pressed and twisted his fingers to loosen up. A guttural groan escaped as his neck was next, snapping it left to right to ease out any crooks. His breaths stammered in unprecedented waverness, as his ears ached through the thudding sounds of his beating heart that seemed to be amplified in his mind. Jaw ticking. Hands shaking. Mouth dried. Body sweating. What the hell were you going to do when heâd shown up without your consent? In fact, you explicitly said to leave you alone. âShit, shit, shit.â Eddie wanted to cry. Should he knock? No, your dad would call the cops. Would you call the cops? He sure as hell would if a drunk man harassed his yard.Â
But then, his stomach sank to his ass.Â
The one room that had been illuminated by the glowing overhead light had accentuated your silhouette. You. It was fucking you. In your room. Where you stayed, where you studied, where you slept, where youâd been crying and chose stoicism to numb the pain of everything around. But everything had happened quickly, and soon, you were gone with a sharp close of your curtains.Â
Eddieâs legs began working without thought, and heâd swiftly aligned himself with the window to your room, tramping the trimmed garden of crumpled rose bushes beneath his dirty sneakers. Your house had been complemented by the standing trellis that had been wrapped by vines of delicate nature. If there was any sign of either moving forward or leaving, the intricate trimming of your house perfectly starting where your trellis ended meaning Eddie had leeway to make it to your window, meaning Eddieâs intoxicated mind saw it was a passage to see you. âJus do it fâher, do it fâherâŚâ Regrettably, the rational part of his brain had fallen under the influence, which was screaming at him to just leave you alone.Â
As stealthy as a drunk man could, Eddie prayed the trellis could hold his weight, as he began scaling the flimsy wood against your wall. All he could think about was you. Every step was for you. Every splinter was for you. Every stumble was for you. Yet his clouded judgment could not process the fact that you didnât want any of this. But the bottom of his shoe was already scuffing the white trimming of your house, and he was hoisting himself to stand upon the hipped edge roof. Crouched and begging his intoxication didnât drop him from the second story, he quietly approached the dormer of your window.Â
His fingertips gently caressed the glass with great scrutiny. It was now just dawning on him as to what heâs just done. The danger heâs put himself and others in. The disrespect heâs inflicted upon you. The hurt. The knock was soft, barely comprehensible. You had ignored it, there was always noise. You tightly cuddled a bundle of your duvet, sinking yourself into the wallow of your bed in hopes of willing yourself to a serious need of sleep. But the noise continued. More apparent. More concerning.Â
You jolted at the clearest indication of a set of knocks cascading against your window.Â
Your heart began racing beyond compare, as the noise followed just outside. It was night, no one should be coming to your house, let alone your window at 9:27 p.m. And the one man you should have had full reliance on was currently passed out in his locked bedroom, where you knew awakening him would lead to a revile of the burden youâd become in his life. He said it when you were nine, and heâd freely say it again if you gave him a headache from his usual hangover.Â
But suddenly, the trembling of your body succumbed when you heard it.Â
âH-helloâŚâ
Blindsided by the simple greeting, you stumbled out of bed with stupefaction that he would actually show up. Eddie. You ran to your window, swinging the curtains open to reveal him. Round, reddened eyes oozing with plead, as his hand pressed against your window. His heart sank at the look of disgust that his face garnered from you. He hated it. He hates your disheveled hair, your bagging pajamas, your wobbling lip. He hates you. He hates how perfect you were. Why the fuck were you so fucking perfect?Â
You made out the shaky âpleaseâ that left his mouth.Â
Opening the window swiftly, the cold breeze of the night engulfed you, as he helped you lift. âWhat are you doing here?!â You were quick to spit with spite.
âI-I,â upon seeing you, his eyes had an instant reaction to start welling for the shit he was putting you through, because he knew what he was wreaking was pure havoc in the normalcy of your life, âI just really needed to t-talk to you.â He managed to choke out.
His hot breath hit you like a truck, proffering memories of what a humid house party smelt like. âAre you drunk right now?!â He could only shamefully nod with closed eyes. âAnd you drove here?!â Another disgrace to his character. âAre you insane?!â
âMâso sorry⌠Mâso fucking sorry, please, I-I jus- I jus-â
âYou could have hurt somebody, Eddie!â Though whispered, it carried all the beratement of your anger. âYou could have killed yourself!â
âI know!â He wailed with guilt. âI jus- I feel like mâlosing my mind, because I need to fucking fix what I did. What I did to you! Mâso sorry.â Your hands caught your head in anguish. You hated him, every being in your body wanted to shout at him, and yet, your heart was tormenting at the state he was in. And you fucking hated that you couldnât hate him how you wanted- how you deserved. âMâsorry, I-I can leave and I swear I won-âÂ
âYouâre not fucking leaving like this, Eddie, youâre gonna get hurt.â You began tearing in frustration.
âNonono, p-please donât cry-â
He tried to reach out to you, but you slapped his comforting hands away, forcing him to lose his balance, before you had to steady him yourself. âYouâre just saying that because you know youâre the cause.â You mumbled far too low for his drunk brain to process, while you held a tight grip around his wrist.
At an attempt to pull him in, his heavy, limp body contorted trying to bypass your window alcove, brandishing it with the streaks of his dirty shoes, and it took all your strength to stumble him onto your bed with a huff. Having him sit in place, you kneeled in front of him to get a good look at his face through the peering moonlight. He looked beyond exhausted, a testament to the agony of contrition heâs been eaten by for what heâs done to you. His eyes wholly swollen with irritation and tears that stained his flushed cheeks, as everything around him felt like it was burning hot. You couldnât yell at him. At this state, ambushing him with an onslaught of curses and shouts would only project him into a disposition of vindication in order to protect himself. And that side of Eddie Munson was scary.
âEddie,â you sighed, as his hanging head managed to meet your round eyes and quivering lips. âYou cannot do this again. Do you hear me? Youâre scaring me.â He vehemently shook his head, as his hands were quick to cover his face with shame to shield from the embarrassment he was consumed by. You pulled his arms away. âNo, Eddie, I need you to say it; that you wonât do this to me again.â
âI-I⌠I wonât do this to you a-again- mâsorry. I wonât touch you, I promise, Mânot my dad.â He sobbed.Â
You sighed in defeat. âWhat- why would you even do this in the first place? What are you talking about?â You pleaded to understand, as tears constricted your eyes.Â
Thereâs so much he wanted to say, but he didnât know where to start. âI fucking need to fix what I did to you. I didnât mean it, any of the shit I said to you. Being around is just so nice that I get afraid. I donât want to lose you⌠a-as a friend, because- because nice things donât happen to me, and I donât know what I would do if I lost-â His breath had caught up to him, making him retch on nothing but tears and snot.
âBreathe, okay, Eddie, just breathe.â You quietly instructed, as he endeavored to follow suit. Your hands softly took hold of his, trying to ameliorate the violent shakes of his stiffening body, fingers delicately locking to find solace within his. And he held back so tightly.Â
âNobody- nobodyâs ever cared like you have.â He whimpered.Â
âSo why treat me like this?â You mewled, sinking your teeth to discontinue the incoming sobs that stung your throat.Â
âBecause I donât fucking deserve you-â You were quick to immediately shush him, as your father was merely a couple doors down. âSorry, but I canât fucking like you, Y/N.â He murmured through a quivering lip. His mind was spewing his feelings, the one he so badly wanted to ignore, but alas, his intoxicated state was regrettably telling all. âI canât, it hurts too much. Knowing- knowing you donât belong with me, I-I canât fucking hold you, hug you, I c-canât.â
âEddie, you could have just talked to me.â You softly cried.
âNo.â He looked so terrified. âI can��t fucking hear you ignore me. I-I know you donât like me-â
âYou donât know that-â
âFucking look at me, Y/N.â He bawled. âLook at what Iâm doing to you. You donât fucking deserve this. Mânot a good person. I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.â
âI just wished you would have given me a chance, and talked to me, Eddie.â You squeezed his hands.
âNo, I donât want to burden you.â He cried with heavy breaths. âThereâs things I wanna say to you- do with you, but I should just be letting you live free from me. No one cares about what I have to say, and you know it.â He begged for you to get it. âAll that bullshit about communication doesnât mean anything when it comes to me. No one wants to hear me. No one wants me.â
Your heart shattered at the revelation because it was beyond the definitions of truth. From childhood, Eddie Munson knew he was nothing if not a punching bag to his father, a therapist to his mother, an obligation to his uncle, and a burden to everyone. It became unwarrantedly embedded into a six-year-old boy and vandalized into his twenty-year-old self. He recognized it. Everyone affirmed it.Â
You raked your hands from his hold, choosing to sit next to him on your bed, where your arms inundated him into a hug he had not received in years. The last close touch given to Eddie Munson left him weeping with a broken nose. He immediately fell into your embrace, shoving his head in the comfort of your neck, where his cries only amplified with the desperation of being touched lovingly. Your own tears had dampened his unruly head of hair, as you caved into him. His heavy arms constricted you tightly.Â
At this moment, you were not scared of Eddie Munson. Youâd seen his reasoning and you understood. Not excused, but understood. A lot of people had simply scared him first.
âI hear you, Eddie. I want to keep hearing you.â
-
âEddie?â You whispered into his curls.
Itâd been an hour of nonstop wails of distress, years of pent up emotions, and the realization that his being could be accepted. Even if it was just for tonight. His eyes had endured a rollercoaster of feelings, and they soon gave up on holding him awake. You didnât move. He didnât move. A tight hug that was necessary for both of you after heavy stoicism from neglect in your own unique ways.Â
You caressed his head. âEddie?â
He was out. You let out a shaky breath of relief. Carefully maneuvering his body, you gently laid his head onto your pillow, prying his strong arms from your waist where they refused to let go, bunching the fabric of your sweater. But you managed to escape his needy hold. Huffing lightly, you carried his legs onto your bed, deciding to let his shoes dirty your clean blankets. His arms had subconsciously gotten comfortable, splaying out against your mattress, where he fell into deep relaxation in comparison to the lumpy bed heâd succumb to back home. You took sight of the fading ink across his hand, your information decorating his alabaster skin with the all too familiar pink of Chrissy Cunninghamâs pen. You wondered how the hell that conversation had gone down. You tenderly eased his arms from the malaise of his jacket, bringing the denim and leather infused with cheap cologne and cigarettes up to your nose. It was Eddie. Soothing the beloved jacket against the back of your desk chair, a small paper had dropped from the nearly torn pocket. Reaching out, you picked up the torn page from Dustin Hendersonâs yearbook.
Though, no other student could be seen. It was ripped haphazardly to only focus on your picture.Â
You.
Eddie Munson had now seen you, as you had now seen him.Â
Softly placing the photo back, you rummaged through your closet to retrieve another set of duvets and blankets, where you preciously placed them onto the floor of your bedroom. Your bed had now been stolen, but you werenât complainingâthat much, at least. Youâd quietly taken another pillow from your bed, placing it onto your newfound cushion of the floor. There was a reason why you shoved this particular blanket into the closet, it made your skin itch uncomfortably, but youâd withstand the terrible material of the woven covers if it meant that Eddie could get the peace he needed.Â
Because if Eddie was okay, youâd be okay.Â
Because similarly to Eddie, who were you if not catering to the needs of others in order to keep sanity in your life. You just wanted stability. True stability.Â
Cuddling into your blankets, you heard the snores of the past out man next to you. You sighed. In the mere three days of knowing Eddie Munson, you accepted the emotional labor that came with his damaged self. But that was okay. Because Eddie Munson seemed ready to do the same for you. Accept you.
But how willing were you to tolerate the impulsivity of Eddie Munson who knew nothing of stability?
đđđ đđ˘đŹđ | Again, there was an error in my tag list, which led me to removing it. Luckily, itâs been a couple days, so I believe most who wished to be tagged already read this chapter. My tag list will continue, I just simply had to remove it for this chapter in particular. Iâm terribly sorry for any confusion.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#mean!eddie munson#the yearbook: club pictures
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