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colonelkaboom · 3 days ago

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A prince, a knight & a poet

✦ Chapter 4 - Confessions from a past life ✦

Caleb takes time to comfort and reassure you after an unwanted text received in the early hours of the morning leaves you feeling hurt and wounded. In an attempt to ease your pain he musters the courage to tell you a secret that might change how your newly rekindled friendship evolves.

Chapter 1 ll Chapter 2 ll Chapter 3 ll Chapter 4 ll Chapter 5

✦ Xavier x Caleb x Reader ✦ Word count: 2.5 k ✦ Modern AU setting ✦ Slow burn, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, more to come

Caleb can’t help himself, he simply has to stare at the flowers you got him each and every time he walks past the dining table. He also can’t help but stare at you everytime you walk past him.

The unfortunate layout of the apartment makes it so that you have to walk in front of the TV whenever you need something in the kitchen, which meant that every time you wanted a snack or needed a drink you had to cross his line of sight. The slight bounce of your shoulders, the sway of your hips. Holy shit, were you not wearing a bra today? He was captivated. And he was definitely not over the crush he developed all those years ago. It was like he was falling for you all over again.

You did it again. Shuffling past him with your fuzzy slippers and an empty glass in your hand. When you’d walked far enough and he was sure he was out of your sight, he allowed his gaze to linger on your moving frame. You’d been weirdly quiet today, obviously bothered by something. But not bothered enough to close your door, it’d been ajar since your retreat after breakfast. Did you want him to ask what was bothering you?

When you woke up this morning, in your brand new bed, you had a feeling something wasn’t quite right. Checking your phone quickly confirmed your suspicions. Xavier had sent you a message at four in the morning profusely apologizing for his behavior yesterday. He said it was highly inappropriate of him to behave the way he did, not only toward you but Caleb as well. After a few sentences heavily soaked in words of reassurance, he announced that whatever had stirred between the two of you yesterday probably shouldn’t become a regular occurrence. He was your boss after all.

Your heart shattered. He said he hoped you’d still want to keep your job, which you did. Regardless of your feelings, you needed the money. You hadn’t dared reply, even after writing and rewriting your thoughts about seven times.

So, you stayed home all day trying to write. You’d set up your desk all nicely, lit a candle, got snacks, but your fingers were unable to move. They didn’t know what keys to press. Caleb was lounging in the living room and you kept going to the kitchen using him as a distraction. It worked, for a while. But not anymore.

“Caleb, do you have any wine?” You turn toward the living room when you ask the question and find his gaze already fixed on your location. Maybe he was worried, you’d barely spoken today.

“Wine? No, I don’t.”

“Oh…” The disappointed look on your face was embarrassing.

“The store should still be open though, I can go get you something if you’d like?” Caleb was already on his feet and by your side before you had a chance to respond.

“I don’t-”

“Go sit on the couch and relax, yeah? I’ll be back soon. Is red good?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders comforting you tenderly.

You nod and look up at him with a gloomy expression.

“You’re not drinking alone though, I won't let you take that glass into your room unless you’re ok with me being in there too. If not, we’ll stay out here, together, m’key?” You roll your eyes at him, but compliantly nod again. He sighs as he leans in to rest his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer with the arm still on your shoulder. “I hope you can tell me what’s bothering you when I get back. I don’t like the silence.”

Clear liquid slightly blurs your vision at how concerned he sounds but you swallow the overwhelming emotion away before Caleb could notice.

You grab two tea cups from the kitchen and place them on the coffetable in the living room. Caleb doesn’t have wine glasses, of course. Whichever box you had packed yours into before you moved, remains unknown. For some reason you decide that the living room doesn’t feel right, so you take the cups back into your hands and move into your bedroom.

Now you’re sitting cross legged on your bed staring blankly out the window thinking about Xavier…

You’re not sure how long it’s been, but a sudden knock on the wall next to your open door tells you that Caleb has returned. You didn’t even hear him come home.

“Hey, pips.” Caleb seemed to have returned to your original nickname, leaving Goldilocks behind. Thankfully…

He moved slowly as he entered your private space, allowing you plenty of time to shoo him out if you wanted. You didn’t. The mattress shifted slightly beneath you as his weight pressed down the bottom right corner.

“You wanna tell me what’s up?”

“I’m just being childish, it’s nothing really…” You sigh as you’re finally able to remove your gaze from the window you’ve been staring at since he left.

Caleb’s eyes pin you down as he attempts to peel back your already crumbling facade.

“Pour me a glass first?” You ask, gesturing toward the bottle in his hands.

“You’re ok with me staying in here?” You give him a confident nod and he opens the bottle and fills both cups.

He snickers at the sight of red wine slouching around his barely used teacup before he raises it in your direction, sticking his pinky out. You return the gesture wearing a smile that Caleb somehow managed to pull out of you. Pinky and all. Clink.

Caleb starts talking about his job as a mechanic, and although you have no knowledge or particular interest in cars, you listen intently. The safe, familiar sound of Caleb’s voice soothes your aching body.

With how you were sitting, you had a perfect view of Caleb’s side profile. Thinking back to your sudden realization that you found him beautiful, you took the time to properly study his features. Strong jaw, nicely slanted nose, great eyebrows, perfectly plump lips. Quite dry, if your memory serves you right. Did he remember that kiss? Why were you thinking about that now? Perhaps it was because you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you’d probably never get to know how Xavier’s lips would feel pressed against yours.

You imagined Xavier’s kisses would be quite soft and gentle, to match his physical features. His lips didn’t look dry, like Caleb’s. Even their hands were vastly different.

Dark brown oil residue clung to the perimeters of each short fingernail and every dry patch of skin on all his fingers. His large, scruffy hands clutching the tiny teacup filled with red wine was a comical sight.

Several tea cups of wine were beginning to severely cloud your judgement. Without a second thought you reached out and took hold of one of Caleb’s hands. You tried to maneuver him into the same hold Xavier had on you yesterday wanting to replicate the feeling.

Caleb stopped breathing as his gaze flickered rapidly between your joined hands and your very focused expression.

“Hm… It’s different. Not bad, just not the same…” You whispered once you’d finally recreated the way Xavier had held your hand.

“What?” Caleb questioned.

“Your hand. It’s not like his.” The tone of your voice made it seem like you'd discovered something big. When what you’d actually discovered was that holding Caleb’s hand was actually quite pleasant.

Not like his… Caleb realized you were thinking about Xavier's hands, comparing them to his own. He couldn’t hide his disappointment. It wasn’t directed at you, but at himself for being stupid enough to get his hopes up.

“Why do you look so sad?” You asked, tilting your head forward to get a better view of his.

“I’m not sad. Just a little bothered.”

“Bothered, by what?”

“You’re sort of comparing me to your inappropriate boss, pips.” The hostility in his voice made you shiver. He regretted it instantly, even more when you suddenly let go of his hand leaving it cold and lonely in the space between you.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that that won’t be a problem anymore.” You’d done it now… Caleb was going to force you to talk about the Xavier situation, and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“Did he fire you?!” Caleb exclaimed angrily.

“No, he didn’t fire me. He just apologized for his behaviour and said that he’d just be my boss from now on…” You paused to gauge his reaction but it seemed like his face didn’t know what expression to form. “He wanted to apologize to you too, for his comment.”

“Shit…” Caleb muttered. He couldn’t let Xavier be the only one to apologize and make himself seem petty.

“I guess, I went a bit overboard too.” At least Xavier wasn’t here to listen to Caleb apologize. And he didn’t need Xavier’s seal of approval, just yours.

“Is that what's bothering you today? His rejection?” He realized too late that putting emphasis on you being rejected was incredibly dumb. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“It’s the truth though. But yeah, that’s what’s bothering me. I’m mourning a relationship I never had. Pathetic.” You muttered running a hand down your face in complete awe of how juvenile you sounded.

But Caleb was all too familiar with the feeling you were describing.

“This is so embarrassing.” A few tears were gathering on your bottom lashes as you did your best to keep them from trickling down your cheeks.

Caleb hated seeing you cry. He hated it back then, and it was no better now. He had to do something, say something…

“I don’t think you’re being pathetic. I get it.”

“You do?” Fuck, he shouldn’t have said anything.

“Yeah, I went through the same thing once.” Actually it’s still an ongoing issue, but we don’t need to discuss that right now.

“When? How did you cope?” Not coping too well at all actually, it’s still pretty rough.

How was he going to dig his way out of this without spoiling everything good about your friendship, now that it was finally beginning to feel easy and natural again.

“Uhm.. Do you remember our first kiss?” Caleb silently begged that his voice didn’t sound as insecure as he felt right now.

“Yes, I remember. I doubt I’ll ever forget my first kiss, Caleb. Would you forget yours?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” The memory puts a smile on his face as he nervously traces the chain hanging around his neck with a gentle touch.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you even remembered that we kissed once.” It always stung, knowing that you were just another girl. Suddenly feeling insecure you pull your eyes away from him and let them rest on his empty hand filling the space between you.

“I… I just told you… That I wouldn’t forget my first kiss didn’t I?” Your insecurity was quickly replaced by butterflies with unknown intentions fluttering around in your belly.

Caleb stared at you, wishing you’d connect the dots so that he wouldn’t have to outright tell you that he spent several years pretending he was far more experienced than he actually was.

“What?” You whispered. “I was your first kiss too?” He slowly nodded, nervously chewing on a dry piece of skin clinging to his lip.

“I kinda had a lil’ crush on you back then, but I was too scared to act on it. Then we kissed and I was determined to finally tell you, but I chickened out. Beat myself up for it for a long time. You moved away shortly after and I was stuck here, alone, thinking about what could have been if I wasn’t so damn scared…” He tried to seem nonchalant about the whole situation, hoping it would come across as something that still belonged in the past.

“Really?” Was the only word you could muster as your mind wandered back to thoroughly analyze everything that happened around the time of your first kiss. Each expression, every touch, anything that should have told you that he had a crush on you.

“Why did you think I wanted to kiss you?” Caleb questioned.

“I assumed you were bored..?” He couldn’t believe what he heard. Had he been that hard to read back then, or had you been that clueless. Maybe both?

“Oh, wow. You must have thought I was a total ass taking advantage of you then?” He jokes, attempting to camouflage how vulnerable the situation made him feel.

“No Caleb, I didn’t think you were an ass.”

“Then.. What were you thinking?” Caleb couldn’t help himself, he had to know, even if your answer wasn’t what he’d want to hear.

“I… I don’t know, honestly.” You could see his stature crumble bit by bit. What had you thought? You always thought it was a nice first kiss, but that it ended sooner than you’d wanted it to.

Caleb seems to curl deeper and deeper in on himself. His neck hangs lower and lower. Any lower and his nose would soon be submerged in his tea cup.

“I thought that you were someone I trusted, someone I’d happily share my first kiss with. I felt safe with you.”

“Yeah?” A little bit of the weight on his shoulders lessened. Even if you couldn’t offer him the same type of confession he had just given you, your words still brought comfort. “What about now, do you still feel safe?”

“Do you think I’d be living with you if I didn’t?” You smiled as he finally dared look at you again.

The conversation shifted back to more lighthearted topics after that. His confession made you feel a bit less heavy, and his reassurance made you feel a little less pathetic. Caleb couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t inquired about when his crush had fizzled out, perhaps he had managed to sell it as a thing of the past. That secret remained hidden, which he was thankful for.

Two empty bottles of red wine and a pizza box with only half a slice remaining stood abandoned on the floor in front of your dresser. Moonlight filled the room and allowed silhouettes of raindrops to dance across yours and Caleb’s bodies. You’d fallen asleep.

As you slowly come back to life you notice a foreign weight resting over your waist. It’s Caleb’s arm. It hadn’t crossed your mind earlier, but now you were painfully aware of your braless chest hiding under your loose sweater. You can tell he’s sleeping by the way his breath softly grazes the back of your neck. How did it make you feel? How did you feel back then, when he kissed you? You still trusted him, you still felt safe…

Suddenly his steady breath at the back of your neck hitched and his arm instantly retracted. The action left you feeling something eerily similar to when he had pulled back from the kiss sooner than you were ready for all those years ago. But did you want more because Caleb was safe and comfortable, or did you simply want him?

AN: Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! I miss Xavier so he’ll for sure be more present in the next chapter ⭐️ If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @babyx91 @lemurianmaster @morrigan87 @dawnbreakerswife @sylusgworl

Read more ll Masterlist ll Colonel Kaboom 𓂃🖊

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #lads fanfic #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace xavier #lads xavier #lads au #xavier x reader #caleb x reader

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softaestluv · 3 months ago

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Grease & Grime Won’t Break Your Bones

You never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is.

Mechanic! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

This chapter does contain explicit smut, 18+ content!

Tags: Rough sex, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Paying for services with sex, Vaginal fingering, Oral sex, Office sex, dirty, greasy, grimy, sweaty, mechanic

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4 (final part!)| Ao3 | masterlist

A kiss, brush of lips, tongues and teeth.

Wandering hands, firm and steady on your hips— possessive, greedy.

Heavy eyes and shallow lungfuls, trembling fingers and a drowning pulse.

Scorching fever, yearning, aching for something more.

Every morning before work, languid kisses pressed between the oil and cloth fabric of Simon’s truck seats. Awkward angles and smashed positions. A clean Simon, all mouth wash and redwood soap, taste of morning tea on his tongue. Sweeter and longer kisses, gentle hands and a smoothing tongue, soft voice and honeyed croons.

Swoops butterflies low in your core, tightening your chest, hiding smiles between his lips.

Every evening when he picks you up from work, frantic kisses pressed against your front door and his broad chest. Indecent, shaming your neighbors with such a desperate act. Your mechanic Simon, dirty, filthy; sweaty and stained, salty on your tongue. Rough and brutal kisses, pinching hands and clashing teeth, deep timbre and gritted demands.

Burns warmth in your core, nudging your thighs together for any stimulation, quiet gasps and mewls swallowed between his lips.

Never more, never any less.

The first time he dropped you off at work, you were hesitant, swallowing over a thick lump in your throat because you wanted more from the night before. You didn’t know how to ask, or if you even should.

His fingers were reassuring when he held your chin, a murmured, ‘have a good day f’me, okay?’

Then he had stamped a kiss against your mouth. It was supposed to be chaste, you knew that, but you didn’t want it to end just yet, didn’t quite get your fill. You probably shouldn’t have made out in the parking lot of your job or perched yourself in his lap either, but you did. Scratched at the insistent craving in your lungs before running into your work building late.

When he had walked you to your front door after picking you up, you wanted to invite him in, you did invite him in. He declined, shaking his head with a soft chuckle, and a brush of his knuckle against your cheek— just droppin’ you off sweet’art.

And like a man contradicting his words, he pressed you flat against the wood of your door, drowned you in his saliva, dragging his mouth, fangs and all, against yours feverishly each time. Barely managing to pull away to bid you farewell.

It went on for a week, mindlessly feeding your fire with make out sessions in his truck and your porch, like two desperate teenagers trying to quench their thirst.

A week was all it took for Simon to fix your truck, had your engine running like new, but a gnawing itch dug at the back of your skull as you stood in his office. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be excited, not with the imminent lack of pre-work kisses and murmurs, any post-work bites and promises in your future.

As if your truck being fixed was the end of it.

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach as you aimlessly nodded along, pinching your lips between your teeth as Simon explained the work he did on your truck. You didn’t really care, your shitty old pick up was the last thing on your mind, even more so when he kept talking with his hands, thick fingers spread wide with each gesture, dipping into even thicker wrists. Solid forearms, veins curled over each curve, right up to each bicep.

Covered in stains— “Y’alright, bird?”

Your mouth fell open, darting your eyes back to his, “Yeah, yeah I-,” you fluttered your lashes, taking a deep breath, “So, what happens now?”

You mean between you and him, not your stupid truck, and you’re sure he knows that, but all he does is huff a laugh, closing the thin distance between the two of you. Bullies you right up against his desk without a care, hands landing on either side of your hips, consequently boxing you in.

“Well,” He pauses, bending his head to the crook of your neck, brushing the bridge of his nose up the delicate skin, drawing rapid goosebumps, “You still owe me f’my services.”

“A twirl?” You breathe, unsure.

“Go on, then.”

It’s hard to spin eloquently caged against his broad chest and the desk, but he doesn’t seem to mind when the plush of your body rubs against the front of his coveralls. Stopping you when your ass faces him just like he always does with a sturdy hand on your hip, except this time you’re pressed right up against his slowly thickening cock.

Your poor cunt, greedy and desperate clenches around nothing over his bulge. You’re sure he can feel it because he exhales a fucking deep chuckle, blurs your eyes with embarrassment.

And then those same hands are nudging you forward, your palms falling flat against the wood with a gasp as he lays his chest over your back. He’s warm against your cool skin, working in the sweltering garage all day while you sat in his conditioned office. The contrast stings your flesh, makes you painfully aware how hard he had been working to fix your truck. The callouses and scars on his hands evident enough, and the thought suddenly makes every touch even more searing. Taking care of your shitty inconveniences without a second thought.

His fingers skim the seam of your pencil skirt, trailing just a little lower to trace against your knee, rakes chills down your legs, “Had t’work a little harder this time.”

You inhale a sharp breath between your front teeth, “Yeah?”

“Mmh, gonna have to do more than just a little spin, love.” He hums, slowly hitching the fabric of your skirt to your hips.

“Yeah?” You repeat, your default answer when his hands are on you.

Simon laughs again, vibrates your back, “Yeah, baby.”

He hooks his fingers in your ruby red panties and tugs them down your thighs. A sticky string of your arousal clings to the fabric, beads in two when the material pools at your feet.

“Let’s see,” He purrs, “Did two oil changes free of charge.”

His hand smooths against the swell of your ass, thumb resting just under the curve, kneading the flesh gently before leaning back. Drags his eyes steady over your ass, and spreads your pussy open with a stamp of his thumb. You squeak, a bit humiliated at your compromising position; it makes an unbearable warmth bloom down your chest, but you like it.

Can’t do anything but like it when he’s ripping the stitches of your vulnerable flesh bit by bit with the reverence in his irises, the hunger seeping into his almond-shaped eyes as he stares at your pussy.

His thumb sweeps through the seams of your pussy and brushes right up against your sensitive clit. He’s firm on the puffy mound, petting confident strokes against the bead, makes you stutter over your breaths with each new shape like he fucking knew how you liked it already. Your legs spread wider at that, head nodding forward against your chest as you succumb, surrender to the sensation.

This is what you had been waiting for. This. His stained fingers on your clit, drooling over his thick digits.

You had been so well-behaved, let him trace your figure with teasing hands, make you late to work every morning, unfocused and wet in the chair in your office, leave you a breathless mess against your front door, so you like to think you deserve this. Deserve to lay against his desk and let him do whatever he wants to you.

“Fixed your air con.” A finger presses into your poor empty cunt.

Your fingernails dig into the wood.

“Got you a new set of tires.” A second finger joins the other.

A moan scrapes against the back of your throat, pushed straight out from the stretch, knees bumping against the desk as you slump slightly.

The first several drags are slow, using the time to coat his fingers in your slick, agonizing to the insatiable ache you need absolutely smothered. Your puffy walls clamp onto his fingers, using your pussy to ask him to press harder, deeper, further, just like you know his deft fingers can.

He gives you exactly what you want, but he makes an embarrassing show of it. Curls his fingers right where he needs to make your pussy squelch loudly, pulls them out just so he can see your slick cling to his skin, connecting the two of you with a dribbled string. Smears it on your pussy, swiping your clit with each movement over and over again.

Then, he follows the string straight to the source, licks around the digits buried in your sopping folds. You’re already wet, a sticky mess, and it only gets worse when soft lips encase your clit. Your knees out right buckle under you, body weight slumped against the desk when his teeth brush against the bead, coaxing your clit out of the hood by nipping, sucking, toying with it while he plunges his fingers deep.

Yeah, yeah, this is what you deserve.

You’re so close off that, gooey, tacky delicious honey washing over you, panting and shaking under him, toes curled uncomfortably in your heels. Your moans echo off the thin walls, and you struggle to remember if Johnny was still in the shop before Simon bent you over his desk within the brink of an orgasm.

The thought leaves your mind as soon as the strokes turn languid, nothing but really hooking his fingers in your walls as a placeholder while he unbuckles his coveralls. You whine, protesting even though the sound of clanking metal promises a better outcome, something bigger, thicker, because you were so fucking close.

He shushes you, tutting his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “None of tha’, takin’ what you owe me.”

His words make you moan, bobbing your head, yeah, yes, you’ll let him take as much as he wants if he keeps your pussy stuffed. You fidget heel to heel in anticipation, looking over your shoulder to watch. It’s a sight, all beefy muscle, tan lines and freckles, damp chest hair and pubes. Every move is determined, fueled with a purpose, shown in the way his arms flex, his brows furrowed.

You practically fall flat against the desk when you see him free his cock, fat and reddened, leaking with precum. The shaft is thick, a slight curve to it, barely fits in the palm of his massive hand. But all you can focus on is the girth, smacks hard against his fucking belly button.

“And now your bloody engine.”

His cockhead pressed to your entrance.

“Tell me, sweet’art, how’d you plan on payin’ all that?”

“With this,” You whine, arching your back, so your pussy rubs right up against his tip.

He hums, hand on your back pressing your hips flat against the desk, so your cheek is flush with it, “You mean this pretty little cunt, huh?”

You nod pathetically, scratching your skin against the wood because you don’t think you quite have it in you to use your words, confess that you’re willing to use your pussy. And he doesn’t push for you to, takes it as a good enough answer.

The stretch stings, makes tears well in your eyes, but it’s hurts so good. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the burn, really drown yourself in the feeling of being so full. It’s a slow start, shaping your spongy walls to take his full length, moist lips mapping shapes against your neck in encouragement to take it all.

You think you’re ready for it, clenching around him, bucking your hips and pleading with quiet words for more— please Simon, I can take it.

Then, he’s just fucking brutal, unforgiving.

Your teeth knock together with the first determined thrust, your eyes snapping open in shock because you were not ready for that. It tears the breath straight out of you, hurts your lungs from the force. Rips a cry of his name from your core, your chest, your throat because you’re sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

Each thrust is harsher than the last, hip bones painfully slammed into the desk with each smack of his cock. The sound of his balls slapping against your flesh, loud and obscene, echoes how aggressive he’s really fucking you.

The gooey honey from his fingers and tongue turns to white, hot, searing pleasure. Borderline painful, as he forces you to take it with no where to run, so you just lay there and take it like a good paying costumer. Accept the onslaught until his hand bands around your throat, curls around the small muscle, and arches your back as much as you physically can so his mouth can press hot against your ear.

“D’ya think I’d jus’ be done with you too?”

You nod, squeak a strained ‘yes’ because you had thought that. Anxiety pinched your chest before his cock split you in two, before he made you his.

“Can’t get rid o’me that easy, sweet’art,” Simon grits through each word, “Work in grease and grime; you’re stuck with me now, baby.”

The words remind you of how dirty he is, how dirty you are for liking that fact. Even more so when his other hand tugs your shirt and bra low, digging indents into your breasts, and you can see how filthy his hand is from work— the same hand that was buried in your pussy moments ago.

Oil, dirt, sweat, grease and grime smeared on your skin, all over your dainty skirt and white blouse. Marking you as his in more ways than the dark hickeys he leaves on your neck and bruised fingertips on your hips.

It numbs your thoughts to nothing but the way you know his cock is just as filthy. Fucking you into a slippery, sticky mess with each rut of his hips. And then he hoists your foot onto the desk, hits a gummy spot that has you arching, quivering in his grasps. Blinding you and consuming you whole.

Your body decides that’s all you can take, squeezing so tightly around Simon as your orgasm becomes ferocious and unbearable. You seize up, Simon dropping his forehead against your shoulder as he tries to fuck you good and well through it, cussing under his breath. Everything’s fuzzy, blurry, and hazy; you’re dizzy, every part of your body melted into the sensory receptors of your body.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, what words you’re saying, but you’re babbling for him to finish in you, cum inside you, taint your delicate flesh with every thing he possibly can.

It’s a few more shallow thrusts before his fingers are digging harsh into your hips, sharp teeth pinching against your shoulder. Warms your already scorching cunt with his spend, bucking his hips deeper with each new spurt.

Even after you milked him for all he’s worth, he rocks his cock into you again and again. Slower, softer, more careful from the way he was just bruising your cervix seconds ago. Relishes in the way your folds flutter overstimulated around him, middle and index finger tracing around where the two of you meet, where your pussy stretches so pretty for him, like he doesn’t want to slip out just yet.

Your fingers tangle into his on your hip, “Don’t think I paid my full debt yet. If you take me home, I can really show you how grateful I am.”

You’ve never seen him speed faster to your house, ripping the keys from your grasps when he deems you took long enough to open your door. It makes you laugh, finding it quite hilarious how eager he is to fuck you all night, a trucks engine worth of orgasms.

That night you let him fuck your mouth, slobbering and choking over his fat cock as he carves the shape into the back of your throat. Sucking the salty taste clean from him.

When morning comes he fucks you again, even though your pussy is sore and swollen, your muscles contracting painfully with each movement from overuse. The way he coaxes your orgasm out of you is worth it all, the way he kisses you goodbye soft and sweet after a shower at the door is even more so.

His promises to return later that night with his thumb rubbing tender strokes behind your ear are even better. Except this time you don’t have a theoretical debt to pay or a shitty pick-up, just a simple guarantee.

masterlist ✎ᝰ.ᐟ

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spaceyaemonds · 2 months ago

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pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: a quiet afternoon with dr. abbot.

warnings: age gap (jack is late 40s, reader is 23), unplanned pregnancy, jack is divorced, not a widower and mentions of his ex wife, it is mention that reader and her mom talk often. please let me know if i missed anything. minors DNI.

note: more of a filler chapter(i’ll consider this 6.5 instead of 7 LOL)!!! just a little look inside them, and we will definitely be seeing more soon!!! jack and reader will meet each others moms next chapter!! also, thinking about doing more drabbles set in this universe, like the proposal, is there anything specific you guys want to see?? unedited. and as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, it helps keep me motivated. especially reblogs/comments/asks!

wc: 960ish

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Over the past eight weeks, you’ve just about changed Jack Abbot’s entire life.

He goes to a farmers market on Saturday’s, brunch on Sunday’s with your friends, actually eats decent meals and gets a good night's rest at least three nights a week.

Also, he’d never admit it outloud to anyone, but he’s pretty invested in Vanderpump Rules.

Currently, he’s got your feet in his lap while he reads a medical journal, one hand massaging your ankle. Every once in a while, he glances up at you to watch as you knit what he thinks is supposed to be a sweater.

Ever since finding out the gender of the baby almost a month ago, you’d been determined to at least make something for the baby to wear. You got good at knitting surprisingly quickly, and so far have made three hats, two pairs of socks, and started a blanket.

You’ve got your bottom lip tightly tucked into your teeth as you concentrate on the yarn in your hands, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching over and gently thumbing it out from between your teeth.

Finally, he thinks to himself when you’re wide eyes meet his.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” He gestures to your swelling bottom lip as you lick it.

“Sorry,” You let out a small giggle, “I didn’t even notice.”

He nods, hand going back to your ankle, “I figured.”

As he starts reading again, you take the time to watch him, head cocking to the side as you smile.

This hasn’t been so bad.

Sure, it’s been an interesting and difficult situation for both of you. But you like to believe that it could be worse.

He could’ve just not cared. Ignored you and went on with his life. Or pressured you into an abortion you didn’t want.

He could’ve done what he could to just take the baby the second she’s here.

But he really surprised you. He’s been so supportive and so good to you. It’s shocking, in all honesty.

You both feel a lot of guilt, though.

You think you’ve stuck him with you. That he’s only here out of obligation.

He thinks he’s ruined your life.

You work through it all, somehow. You talk him off his ledge more than he talks you off of yours, but you can tell when it’s eating at him more than he can with you.

Or so you think.

Jack likes to think he knows you pretty well despite the timeline of things.

He spends as much time as he can with you. Soaking up every moment of something he didn’t even think he ever wanted. Holds your hair back when you get sick. Rubs your back and feet when you ache. Tries some of the most interesting food combinations he’s ever heard of, some of which are better than others.

Fucks you when you’re insatiable and want him more than anything.

He isn’t quite sure it’s love yet, but he knows it’s on its way there.

He’s loved before. Hell he loved someone enough to marry her, but couldn’t love her enough to give her what you’re giving him.

Another source of guilt for him- one that he’s completely bared to you.

You didn’t know what to say, when he told you about what ate at him most. Why he couldn’t figure out what brought on the need, the desire, to do this with you, but he couldn’t even bring himself to try with her.

You just listen, rub his back, and whisper in his ear that some things just happened for a reason.

He appreciates you and the the way you just let him talk. Or just let him sit with you in silence. Whatever he needs, you somehow manage to give him.

One of the more recent favorites of his is when you take a bath. He can sit up against the cabinets under the vanity with a beer in his hand while you sit and talk about your day, things you want to do for the baby, or just read.

Life is more peaceful with you than he thinks it ever has been.

He glances back over at you, and sees the look in your eyes.

A look he knows all too well will result in him doing something he doesn’t exactly want to do.

“Spit it out, honey.”

You smile at the sound of his voice when he calls you honey.

“I was talking to my mom yesterday,” You trail off as he closes the journal he’s been reading and turns his body all toward you.

“Well?”

Jack knew your mom knew the basics, much like his own family did. How you got pregnant. How you met him. His age.

He knew that the last one had her concerned. Extremely.

The two of you talk most days, and she always gets distant when asking about the baby. Something about it makes him slightly uneasy.

“She’s coming to Pittsburgh next week. Wants us all to get together,” You look down, fidgeting with your fingers, “wants to meet you.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, making unease crawl up your chest.

It was a bad idea to bring it up.

“How do you feel about that?”

He sounds calm and collected, surprising you yet again.

“I mean, you are the father of her grandchild.”

You finally look back up at him, eyes meeting.

He sighs, shaky, “Is that all I am?”

You tilt your head to the side, “You tell me.”

It’s quiet for another beat before he shakes his head as he brings one of his palms to cradle your jaw.

“It’s only fair if you have to meet my mom, too.”

You laugh, nodding lightly before kissing his palm.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

He lets out a huff as he kisses the side of your head, “It’s a deal, then.”

#jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #the pitt x reader #dr jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #ahhhhh #🐝 writes #🐝 writes: the pitt #surprise pregnancy!jack abbot

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soaps-mohawk · 12 days ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 56: Making Home

Summary: Now that you've got the house, it's time to make it feel like home.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,583 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, explicit sexual content, p in v sex, anal sex, smut, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink went wild with this one, munch Kyle makes his return, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alternate universe, a little bit of angst, bad attempts at humor, language

A/N: This chapter tried to kill me but I did it. I finished it. Wound up like twice as long as I thought it was going to because of extra smut so you're welcome.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“We got the house!”

Excited cheers sound on the other end of the phone.

“Congratulations kitten!”

“Very exciting news, love.”

“Can’t wait to see it.”

“I can’t wait for you all to come and visit and see it. It needs a little work but it’s so nice. It really feels like home being there.” You say.

“What’s it like?” Kyle asks.

“Three bedrooms, with the main one big enough for a large bed, two bathrooms so I don’t have to share with you stinky men. Four acres so we can have our farm. Nice big kitchen so we’re not stepping on each others toes.”

“Sounds perfect.” Johnny says.

“Send us photos when you get there.” Simon says. “I want to see.”

“Of course.” You say, kicking your legs back and forth. You’re laying on the bed in the Airbnb, John heating up leftovers from dinner last night. “I can’t believe we got it.”

“It’s lucky you got it so fast.” Simon says.

“Perhaps it was fate.” Kyle says.

“Whatever it was that made it possible, I owe it a lot. There were a couple other places that would have been fine but this one was the one.” You flop over onto your back. “I cant wait to see you all again.”

“We can hardly wait either.” Johnny says. “Soon as ye get into the house we’ll drive up and visit for a weekend.”

“It’ll be Easter soon. Four day weekend.” Kyle says. “I’ll be up there before then.”

“I can’t wait for you to finally be free.” You say.

“Don’t talk like that.” He chuckles. “I am excited for this new adventure, though. Can’t wait to see what comes next.”

“A farm with lots of animals and a dog and lots of free time.” You say.

“Big dreams, little girl.” Simon says. “I hope they all come true.”

Well, most of them will. Part of your dream is that Simon and Johnny will also retire and the five of you can live out the rest of your lives happy and free from the stress of the military, but you know that’s not going to happen for a long time.

“Thanks,” You say, looking up as John comes in the room.

He lays on the bed next to you and you move the phone between you. “You lads doing alright?”

“Yes, sir.” Kyle says. “Hanging in there.”

“It’s not the same without ye.” Johnny says. “Miss ye.”

“It’s definitely strange. Hasn’t quite hit yet.” John says. “Alright, boys, I’ve got to feed our girl before she gets grouchy.”

You open your mouth in shock. “I don’t get grouchy.”

“Yer the one that has to deal with that now.” Johnny laughs.

“Rude.” You pout. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Take it easy, love.” Kyle says. “Don’t be too hard on John.”

“I’m not being hard on him.” You say. “Love you.”

A chorus of I love you’s follows before you hang up.

“I don’t get grouchy.” You pout, turning to face John, trying to convince him you’re right.

He gives you a look before pushing himself up to sit. “You’ve never been on the receiving end of your terror when you’re hungry.”

You continue to pout as he stands up, heading out the bedroom door. “I’m not grouchy.” You say to yourself as you push off the bed to follow him.

“We need to go paint shopping and furniture shopping.” You say, your head resting on John’s chest. “I need to think about décor too.”

You’ve been thinking a lot about your soon to be home and what you want it to look like. Cozy, warm, inviting. Lots of comfortable furniture and blankets and pillows. You want it to feel like home, like the MacTavish farm had. You want artwork and family photos lining the walls and big book shelves with lots of books.

“Let’s sign the papers and get the keys first.” He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns up and down your arm where it’s slung across his stomach.

“I’m just excited.” You sigh. “I still can’t believe we got it.”

“I know.” He kisses your forehead. “I am happy it worked out.”

You are lucky that things worked out the way they did. You’re not sure what you would have done if you hadn’t gotten that house. You would have found another that you tolerated, but you’re not sure you could have made it feel as much like home as this one does. You can’t wait to make it your home, to have your pack settle down into a normal life with each other. Well, semi-normal. As normal as it can be.

“I can’t wait for Kyle to get to us too.” You say.

“Couple more weeks.” John says. “Around the time we close he should be on his way.”

“Good. I can get his help picking out stuff.” You say. “We’re gonna need so much. We don’t even have dishes to eat on.”

“One thing at a time.” John says, resting his cheek against your head.

“Can we at least look at paint tomorrow?” You ask, your eyes starting to droop a bit despite your excitement.

“If that will make you happy.” He says.

You hum. “It will.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, still stroking your arm as you drift off to sleep.

“I’m thinking blue for the living room.” You say, looking at the rows and rows of paint color sample cards. “Something light.”

“You want to paint the whole room?” John asks as he grabs one of the cards.

“No, just an accent wall.” You say, grabbing another, looking through the many shades. “Something to give it life beyond the dull white. I like the tan in the kitchen. Nice neutral. I’m thinking green over the red in that one room.”

“You want to paint the spare room?” He asks.

You shrug. “We can still use it. It could be an office or a gym. We can use the other room for guests. I’m thinking we leave that room white.” You look down at the cards in your hands before looking back up at him. “I feel like I’m making all of the decisions.”

He gives you a look, leaning down towards you. “This house is your nest. I want you to make it what you want.”

A slight shiver runs down your spine as you stare up at him, at the sincerity in his gaze. “Okay.”

“Here,” He says, grabbing a couple green cards, looking over them. “How about this green for the red room?”

You drop your gaze from his face to the cards, looking at the light green shade. “I see the vision. It’ll take a lot to cover that red though.”

“That’s alright. We’ll just get a lot of primer.” He says. “How about purple for the main bedroom.”

Your eyebrows nearly shoot up into your hair. “You’d let me paint something purple?”

“Of course.” He says, grabbing a couple cards. “Like I said, this is for you.”

You stare at him for a moment before glancing at the purple cards. “Well then that changes everything.”

A grin forms on his face as you take the purple cards, his hand resting on your lower back as you look through them. You’re distracted, barely noticing the way John’s hand presses harder against your lower back, his body stiffening slightly beside you.

Something tickles in the back of your brain, drawing you from your thoughts as the scent of alpha washes over you. It burns your nose, the scent wrong and overpowering. John’s hand has moved from your back to your hip, your body pressed up tight against his side. There’s someone else in the aisle with you, perusing over cans of paint.

It’s an alpha, his gaze flicking over to you every so often. He’s young, a bit too cocksure and haughty. He’s projecting his scent, likely because you’re there.

Great. Just what you needed.

John shifts you over to his other side, putting himself between you and the alpha. You clutch the paint cards to your chest, staring up at John as he watches the other alpha. The other alpha glances up at him a couple times and you hold your breath, the cards in your hands shaking from the nerves of a possible confrontation. You don’t doubt John and his ability to protect you. He’s a seasoned alpha, a seasoned fighter. He’s a retired soldier for goodness sake. He could take down this cocksure alpha easily, but the last thing you want is a fight to happen in the middle of a hardware store.

“Problem, mate?” The alpha says, turning to face John.

“None at all.” John says cooly, his posture relaxed, demeanor calm.

The alpha gives him a once over and you hope he’ll decide it’s not worth the risk, but you’re not so lucky. The alpha tilts his chin up as his gaze flicks to you where you hide halfway behind John. “Cute girl you got there.”

“She’s taken.” John says, his shoulders starting to tense just slightly. You wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t know him well enough.

“I bet.” The alpha huffs. He leans slightly to the side to see you better. “What do you say, sweetheart, want to go for a ride with a real alpha?”

You don’t respond, but you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You’ve never thought about this happening, about a confrontation with another alpha. Most people were deterred by John’s presence, but you knew there was always a possibility of some kid getting it in his head he could take on a seasoned alpha.

Of all places it’s a hardware store.

“She’s fine where she is.” John says. “I suggest you take a hint and go about your business.”

“Or what, old man?” The alpha chuckles. “Gonna fight me?”

John moves before you even realize it, closing the distance in three long strides. His hands grip the alpha’s shirt, lifting him almost off his feet so they’re face to face. John’s voice is firm, the captain starting to come out.

“I’d prefer not to, but if that’s what you want, I can make it happen.” The poor kid finally looks scared as John speaks to him, the alpha’s scent starting to waver as John’s takes over. “I’ll have my omega call you an ambulance now so they’re here in time to scrape whatever pieces of you are left off the floor.” He pulls the alpha closer, his toes scrambling to keep hold on the floor. “I’d suggest you go about your business, get what you came here for and leave.”

John releases the alpha and for a tense moment nothing happens. You hold your breath, hands shaking with adrenaline as you wait for the alpha’s response. He gulps as he stares up at John for a moment before nodding, taking a few steps back. His eyes flicker to you as you stand there before looking back at John. He makes the smart decision to turn on his heel, making his way down the aisle until he disappears around the corner.

John stands there for a moment, shoulders tensed before he turns back to you. He steps up close to you, his hands gently gripping your arms. You stare up at him, the adrenaline still pulsing beneath your skin. You really thought for a moment there John was going to have to fight him, but thankfully that alpha wasn’t as stupid as you thought he might be.

“Okay?” John asks quietly.

You nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

He nods, wrapping an arm around you as he steers you towards the door. You’ll worry about getting paint later, once you’re actually ready to move into the house. Still you clutch the sample cards in your hand, your fingers curled around them. You’re not sure you could let them go right now. Besides, you need to finalize your decisions.

John leads you out to the car, keeping an eye out in case that alpha decided to change his mind, but he’s not waiting for you. You’d rather not have to deal with the ramifications of a public fight. It wasn’t unheard of, alphas duking it out in public over an omega.

You’d do the right thing like John said and call an ambulance before the first punch was thrown.

“Sorry, love.” John says as the two of you get into the car. “Hate that this was cut short.”

You’re silent for a moment before you turn to face him, the adrenaline still pumping in your veins. “That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done.” You say, staring at him wildly. “I’d suck you off right now if we weren’t in public.”

“Appreciate it, sweetheart.” John grins, chucking you under the chin before he starts the car. “But I agree that we should wait until we get back. I’d rather not let the entire parking lot of the store see your bare ass.” He sinks his teeth in his lip. “That’s for me only.”

You let out a quiet whine, excitement stirring in your stomach, shooting straight down between your legs.

You can’t wait to get back to the Airbnb.

Kyle arrives a week before the sale closes.

You had hardly slept in anticipation of seeing him again after a long month away. You’re not sure how you’re going to stand being apart from Johnny and Simon for so long if a month about does you in.

You slam into him so hard he grunts, his arms wrapping around you to keep from going over backwards and taking you with him. You wouldn’t have minded. He’d break your fall.

“Good to see you again, love.” He chuckles, waddling you backwards into the house.

“I missed you so much.” You say, squeezing him as tight as you can.

“I know you did.” He says, kissing the top of your head. “Good to see you again, sir.” He says, John’s body pressing up against your back.

“None of that now.” John says. “We’re retired.”

“That’s a habit that’s going to take time to break.” Kyle says, gently prying you off of him to hug John.

You slip out from between them, watching them for a moment. Your alpha and beta finally reunited and free from the military. Now you just have your other alpha and beta to work on. Chip away at that stubborn desire to remain enlisted.

You think you can do it.

It’ll take some time, though. Time you might not have.

“So, when do I get to see this magnificent house?” Kyle asks, putting down his bag.

“Soon. The closing process is almost done. Then we have a lot of work to do.” John says.

“Painting, furniture buying, furniture assembly, decorating, barn building, animal buying.” You list off. All things you’ve been thinking about these last couple weeks.

John chuckles. “You retire thinking you’ll get freedom and then you go and buy a house.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy.” Kyle says, sitting down on the couch.

“You have no idea.” John says, sitting down next to him.

“It’s good for us.” You say, plopping yourself down in Kyle’s lap, swinging your legs over John’s. “Keeps us from getting bored.”

Kyle chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. “I doubt you’ve let him get bored.”

You grin, leaning in to kiss him. “His dick has to be getting sore and I’m not even in heat.”

“Well, now I’m here to alleviate some of that.” Kyle says, nipping at your bottom lip.

John shifts as you kiss Kyle, one hand slipping around the back of Kyle’s neck. “Fucking gorgeous, you two.”

You giggle, Kyle’s lips leaving yours to trail down your neck. Your own teeth sink into your lip as he sucks at your skin, pressing his nose against your throat to inhale deeply. “Fucking hell, get a load of that.”

“She’s been insatiable lately.” John says, thumb stroking the side of Kyle’s neck.

“I missed you.” You say, letting out a quiet gasp as Kyle nips playfully at your throat.

“Haven’t even been here five minutes and you’ve got me bricked up.” Kyle groans, his grip around your waist tightening.

You hum, tugging his head up so you can kiss him again before pulling back. “It’s almost time for dinner.”

You barely make it off of his lap before his arms are around you again, pulling you back.

“Nah, nah, nah.” He grins, tugging you back so your ass is tucked up against the bulge in his pants. “None of that, love, you’ve got something to take care of first.”

Your teeth sink into your lip as you press back against him, grinding your ass against his cock. He breathes out a curse, head falling back against John’s hand as you tease him.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart.” He groans, his hands gripping your hips.

His fingers tease the skin under your waistband, tugging at your pants. You lift your hips for him, letting him slide your pants and underwear down your legs. You kick them off onto the floor, Kyle’s hands spreading your thighs apart. His fingers drag through your folds, already damp from the thick scents in the air and Kyle’s touch. How you’ve longed for him and you hadn’t even realized it.

“Already wet for me?” He groans in your ear, his fingers circling your clit. You let out a moan, pressing your hips up against his hand. “Been a while, yeah? Neglected my girl.”

His hands fall back to your waist, shifting your body up off of his and onto John’s lap. John’s arms wrap around you, his own arousal pressing up against your ass. You press back against him, watching Kyle as he drops to his knees on the floor, moving himself between John’s legs.

“Hold her open for me.” He says, pushing your thighs apart.

John’s hands slide down to your thighs, hooking under your knees, pulling them up to leave you spread open for Kyle. Kyle stares at your pussy with shining eyes, almost with love and reverence.

“How I’ve missed you.” He says, lowering himself down towards your glistening folds.

You don’t think he’s talking directly to you.

You let out a sigh as his tongue drags a stripe up your folds, the tip flicking your clit before he slides down again, prodding at your entrance. His hands settle on the backs of your thighs as he slips his tongue into you, tasting you directly from the source. He lets out a groan, his mouth closing over your pussy and slurping.

You let out a sound, eyes glued to his face.

“Look at that,” John groans, his eyes glued to Kyle as well, chin perched on your shoulder. “You like that, huh?”

Both you and Kyle let out appreciative moans.

Kyle focuses his attention on your clit, closing his lips around the sensitive bud and sucking hard. Your legs jump at the intense sensation, pushing against their hands. Despite the many rounds you’ve gone with John over the last couple weeks, you’re still sensitive, clit still throbbing from the attention being shown to her.

“Fuck, Kyle,” You gasp as he circles your clit with his tongue. Your hand drops down to his head, trailing through his short-cropped curls. You can’t wait for him to grow them out, if he wants to. Maybe you can convince him to grow a beard as well.

What a sight your boys would make, all shaggy with beards.

The mental image has slick oozing out of you.

“Fucking beautiful pussy.” Kyle groans, laving his tongue through your folds, tasting every inch of you he can. His fingers are pressing into your thighs leaving indents in your skin.

“Gonna cum just like this?” John rumbles, addressing Kyle. “Gonna cum in your pants just from tasting some sweet pussy?”

You let out a quiet moan at John’s words. Oh how you’ve missed them together.

“Yes, sir.” Kyle moans, one of his hands dropping from your thigh.

“No touching.” John says, Kyle’s hand rising back to rest against your leg.

Kyle moans against your clit, the sound vibrating through you. You let out a moan, arching against John. John’s hands pull your legs further up until your hamstrings start to burn. You offer no complaint though, too lost in the pleasure Kyle’s mouth is bringing you to care.

“Gonna cum for him?” He grunts in your ear as you push back against the bulge in his own pants.

“Yes,” You breathe, hands gripping John’s arms as the patterns Kyle’s drawing with his tongue push you closer and closer to the edge.

Kyle pants against your pussy, gripping your thighs for dear life.

“She cums first.” John says, no, commands.

“Yes, sir.” Kyle groans, closing his lips around your clit.

You’re a gonner as soon as he sucks, the sensation overwhelming as slick gushes out of you. Kyle is right there, his tongue pushing into your hole to lap up every last drop he can get. Slick smears across his face and your skin as he slurps at you like a man starved.

Well, he has been.

“Fuck,” he pants, pulling himself back, his fingers still dimpling the skin of your thighs.

“Did you cum yet?” John asks.

“No, sir.” He says, eyes and lips shining.

“Let me see.”

John releases your trembling legs as Kyle stands, undoing his jeans before shoving them down along with his briefs.

He is telling the truth, nothing but precum beading out of the tip of his almost throbbing cock. It’s angry looking, Kyle’s hands closing into fists at his side as it hangs there, hard and leaking.

John leans in, whispering in your ear. Your lips turn up in a smirk as you slide off his lap onto your knees, your legs trembling in protest but you ignore them. You take Kyle’s cock in your hand, warm and thick as you grip the base. Your tongue darts out, licking the bead of precum slipping out of his tip. His head is down, eyes glued to yours as you take him into your mouth.

“Bloody fucking hell,” He groans, one hand slipping into your hair, gripping the strands as you suck on his head, flicking his slit with your tongue.

Your hand strokes the rest of him, his hand tight in your hair as you work him closer and closer to the edge.

It doesn’t take much, his cock throbbing as he moans, hips jerking as he cums on your tongue. You work him through his orgasm, swallowing every last drop that he gives you. His head is tilted back, hand still gripping your hair as he twitches with the aftershocks of his orgasm when you pull back, letting his cock drop between his thighs.

“Thank you,” He breathes, his hand releasing your hair, his fingers dragging through the strands.

You both turn to stare at John where he lounges on the couch, knees spread and eyes hooded. There’s a very prominent bulge in his pants, you and Kyle sharing a look before he drops to his knees beside you as you reach for John’s belt.

“I can’t believe it.” You say, staring down at the keys in John’s hand. You’re standing before your new home, the thing you’ve been waiting for anxiously this last month.

“It’s cute.” Kyle says, standing next to you. “Can’t wait to see the inside.”

“You’ll love it.” You say, taking the key when John hands it to you.

You walk up to the door, your hand almost shaking with excitement as you put the key in the lock of your new home.

It looks different with the furniture gone. You’re already starting to imagine what you’re going to put where, what you’re going to decorate with, which walls you’re going to paint.

You lead Kyle through the house, showing him the space and the rooms, ideas starting to float through your mind. You don’t even have the furniture, and already you can see the house coming together.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy before.

Well, perhaps there have been a few times, but this is definitely going high on the list.

“I’ve ordered the bed, but it will be a few days before it gets here.” John says.

“Thought my days of sleeping on the floor were over.” Kyle jokes.

“Uh, no, we’re getting an air mattress.” You say, leaving one of the bedrooms. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

John kisses your forehead. “Don’t worry, we’d never let our princess sleep on the floor.”

Your face warms at the nickname. It’s been a minute since he called you that. It still has warmth fluttering in your stomach.

You stare up at him for a long moment trying to get yourself together before you clear your throat. “I think we should at least get the main bedroom painted before the bed gets here.”

“Right off to work, huh?” Kyle grins, coming to stand with you.

“She’s an eager little pup.” John says, chucking you under the chin before taking a step back. “We’ll pick up paint tomorrow, for now let’s get our stuff in the house.”

Well, they get the stuff from the cars moved into the house. You mostly supervise, watching them carry boxes and bags into one of the rooms for now. Your few meager belongings packed up from base and your time at the cottage.

You think you have the most boxes out of all of them. Most of them are probably books, stuffed animals, and blankets.

You do carry your big bear in though, setting him down next to the boxes before falling on top of him. “Whew. That was a lot of work.” You say.

“Yeah? I bed supervising us was exhausting.” Kyle says breathlessly.

“You have no idea.” You say, letting out a squeal as hands grip your sides, rolling you off of your bear.

Those hands tickle your sides, making you laugh and squeal as you attempt to fight Kyle off of you, but he’s too strong.

“You little shit.” He laughs, pinning you down as he mercilessly tickles you.

You land a knee in his side and he grunts, releasing you just to lay himself down flat against you. “You’re so heavy.” You whine, trying to push him up but he’s dead weight. “And sweaty.”

“That’s never bothered you before.” He says, voice muffled where his face is pressed against your shoulder.

“Well usually we’re in a different situation when you’re sweating all over me.” You say, pinching his side.

He jerks, his hands grabbing your wrists to pin them over your head. He leans down until you’re face to face, his nose brushing yours. “I could put you in that situation right now.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the energy in the room shifting as his scent starts to thicken. His fingers flex around your wrists as he closed the short distance between you to kiss you softly. You kiss him back hungrily, pushing against his hands but he doesn’t relent. You would have preferred to wait until the bed got here to christen your new home, but desire is quickly squashing those thoughts.

Kyle’s knee slots between your thighs, pressing up against your core. You push your hips down, grinding against him as warmth starts to blossom through your stomach. Your skin begins to tingle, your nerve endings coming to life as arousal pools in your belly.

“Alright you two.” John says, breaking the two of you apart. Kyle pulls back, lifting himself to glance over his shoulder. “We need to hit the shops before they close.”

“Come on, just five more minutes.” You whine.

“You want to sleep on the floor?” John raises a brow at you.

You stare at him for a moment before pushing yourself out of Kyle’s hold. “Nope.” Kyle chuckles, letting you go. You bend down, giving him a kiss before you move past him, coming to stand directly in front of John. “You’re going to pay for that interruption.” You say, trying to threaten him.

“You think so?” He says, lifting his brows, a smirk turning the corner of his mouth up.

“Yeah.” You say, brushing past him to head towards the front door, excitement still burning hot in your stomach. You’ll need to get that under control before you go out into public. The last thing you need is another confrontation, but at least now John has backup.

Not that you think he’d need it.

The days go by in a whirl of shopping and painting and unpacking. Furniture is bought, walls are coated in new colors, the kitchen and bathrooms stocked with necessary items. Already the house is starting to feel like a home, even if you’re only just getting started.

The bed arrives sooner than you expected, and you’re glad you painted the main bedroom first. It’s a big bed, bigger than you thought it would be, but it’s perfect, covering the bedroom almost wall to wall. It’s comfortable too, just firm enough it supports you, but just soft enough it’s still comfortable. John and Kyle spend half the day putting together the frame while you work on painting the living room. They refused to let you help with the tools, but you were more than happy to let them figure out the instructions.

Kyle could defuse a bomb, but putting together furniture...that’s something else entirely.

You leave them to it, happily painting your walls in bliss.

“What do you think?” John asks as he enters the room again.

You’re laying flat on your back on the bed, relaxing on the mattress. “I love it.”

“It’s the perfect size.” Kyle says, crawling up from the end to flop down beside you. “Just big enough for the five of us.”

“Even with Johnny starfishing himself?” You ask.

“Well...it might be a tight squeeze with that, but at least we won’t be elbowing each other and stuck in the same position all night.” Kyle says.

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. The other side of the bed dips as John climbs up to join you. He relaxes back with a sigh, the three of you laying still for a moment.

Thoughts begin to form in your head, mental images of everything that could happen with this new, large space you have. Enough room for five bodies to maneuver comfortably, and you know John bought the reinforced frame, made specifically for larger packs.

If you’re going to spend money, you might as well ensure the bed can handle vigorous activities.

Many vigorous activities.

“What’s going through that head of yours, princess?” John rumbles, breaking you from your thoughts.

Your scent has projected a bit, arousal pooling low in your stomach from the fantasies your mind had conjured.

“What do you say we put this bed frame to the test?” You suggest, sinking your teeth into your lip.

Kyle lets out a breathy sound as John growls low in his chest.

“Eager little pup, aren’t you.” John says, scooting himself closer to you.

“I don’t disagree.” Kyle says, scooting closer on your other side as well. “I think we should test it before we fully commit. It says it can handle large packs. Let’s see if that’s true.”

John’s hand grips your chin, turning your face towards him. Heat blossoms from between your thighs as his scent washes over you, thick and musky with his own arousal. You can see it poking through his sleep pants, bulging the thin fabric.

“Fuck,” Kyle moans, pressing up against your side. You can feel his arousal through his briefs pushing against your leg. His lips find your throat, pressing soft kisses against your skin. His own scent is projecting, soft and fresh in the air.

John leans down, pressing his lips to yours as Kyle’s hand starts to wander, sliding down your chest to your breasts, palming them over your baggy t-shirt. “Couple of eager pups.” He murmurs against your lips.

His hand leaves your chin to trail down your body, skirting past where Kyle is teasing your nipple through your shirt. John’s hand trails down your stomach until it reaches the hem of your shirt...well, his shirt actually. He pulls it up, bunching it around your waist before his hand slips down, fingers trailing through your damp folds. He lets out an appreciative growl against your lips, his fingers dipping into your pussy.

You let out a moan, pulling away from his lips as your head falls back. His fingers push into you, two thick fingers spreading you open. He pumps them back and forth, back and forth slowly, working them into you as your body grows slicker and slicker around them. Kyle pinches your nipple hard, your back arching from the pleasure and pain.

John withdraws his fingers, bringing the shiny digits up towards your face. Kyle pulls away from your neck, dipping his head to take them into his mouth.

“Fuck,” You breathe, watching Kyle suck John’s fingers clean of your juices.

More slick dribbles out of you as saliva starts to form at the corners of Kyle’s mouth, threatening to slide down his chin as John presses his fingers as far into Kyle’s mouth as he can. Kyle takes it like a champ, swallowing around his thick fingers.

John pulls his hand free, patting Kyle on the cheek. “Good boy. Now go down there and make our girl feel good.”

“Yes, alpha.” He gasps, panting as he slides down the bed.

John’s body shudders at the sound of his status from Kyle’s lips. It wasn’t often Kyle called him alpha. He was more inclined to calling him ‘sir’ than anything. Perhaps he’s trying something new in his retirement.

Kyle settles between your thighs, his breath warm against your damp folds. John tugs at your shirt, your back arching so he can tug it off over your head. A gasp leaves your lips as Kyle licks a stripe through your folds, his tongue flicking across your clit before his lips close around the bud.

He wastes no time, licking and slurping at your pussy, trying to drink every last drop of your essence. John’s arm wraps around your back, holding you against his chest as Kyle relentlessly eats you out.

“Feel good?” He breathes in your ear. “Is our boy making you feel good?”

You nod, clinging to John’s hip for dear life. “So good. So-fuck-good.”

Your legs are already shaking around Kyle’s head, trying to squeeze closed but his hands keep them open.

“Gonna cum,” you breathe, back arching off the bed. “Please, please let me cum.”

“Go ahead.” John says, Kyle sucking hard on your sensitive clit.

You cum with a cry, Kyle’s mouth abandoning your clit to drink up your juices as they gush from you. John’s fingers take his place, rubbing tight circles against your throbbing cit, working you through your orgasm.

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling in John’s hold. “I can’t…”

“Yes you can.” He growls in your ear. “One more.”

You whine, your body writhing in his hold in overstimulation as he continues his assault against your clit. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow as you almost seize, legs clamping shut around his hand.

Kyle watches as another orgasm burns through you, forcing your legs open so he can push two fingers into you. You yelp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around his fingers as you cum again.

John finally relents, easing off your clit as he kisses you softly. “Good girl.” He praises you.

You let out a quiet sound, body still trembling as Kyle thrusts his fingers into you slowly.

“Well?” John says, looking down at Kyle. “Are you gonna fuck her or do I have to hold your hand?”

Kyle breathes out a curse, fumbling to yank off his briefs, releasing his hard cock. John tugs one of your legs up over his hip, holding you open for Kyle as he slots himself between your thighs.

“I’ve missed this fucking pussy.” Kyle breathes as he prods at your entrance, slipping the tip in before pulling it back. “You have no idea.”

“Missed your cock,” You whine, pulling your other thigh up so you’re spread open for him.

“Fucking hell,” He breathes before pressing into you, stretching you open around his cock. “Still so fucking tight.”

“Glorious when she’s all nice and slick, huh?” John says, leaning on his arm as he watches Kyle.

“All nice and warm, gripping me so tight.” He moans, his hands dropping to grip your hips as he presses completely into you.

“Feel so good, Kyle.” You moan, squeezing around him.

He curses again, fingers indenting your hips as he tries to hold on to a semblance of control. He starts to move his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly and steadily. You’re breathing heavily, skin slicked with sweat as you lay there at their mercy, John’s fingers drawing patters across your stomach as his eyes watch the way you spread open around Kyle’s thick cock. He’s enjoying this, watching his beta fuck you.

He presses his hand against your stomach, applying gentle pressure. “Let me feel you.”

Kyle shifts his hips, starting to thrust faster as he angles upward. John hums contently as you moan, eyes rolling back from the way Kyle’s cock drags along your walls. You’re shaking again, already approaching another orgasm from how sensitive the first two made you. You won’t last long, and from the way Kyle is moaning, he won’t either.

John applies more pressure against your pelvis, Kyle’s cock pressing upwards with every thrust. Your legs are shaking around his hips, pleasure burning hot through you, your very nerves alive from the sensation.

“Oh fuck, she’s cumming,” Kyle moans, his body folding over yours as your pussy squeezes tight around him.

Your back arches off the bed, your entire body trembling as another orgasm rips through you, your toes curling from the pleasure as Kyle continues to thrust into you, chasing his own high.

“Come on, be a good boy.” John says, pushing himself up to sit. He reaches back, squeezing Kyle’s balls.

“Fuck,” Kyle’s hips buck hard against you, nearly pushing you up the bed from the sudden pleasure. “I’m cumming.”

His thrusts get wild and sloppy, losing all rhythm as he snaps his hips against yours a couple more times. He spills into you with a deep groan, pressed as tightly as he can against you.

He’s breathing hard, John’s hand still massaging his balls as he cums, his own body shaking with overstimulation.

John finally releases him, dragging a hand up his back. “Good boy.” He praises, pressing a soft kiss to Kyle’s shoulder. He leans up, whispering into his ear for a moment.

Kyle nods, pulling himself out of you before dropping onto the bed next to you. He’s still shaking as he tugs you closer, rolling you up onto his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you there for a moment as John shifts behind you.

“Come on,” John grunts, patting your ass. “Present for me.”

You let out a whine, forcing your knees under you so you can lift your ass in the air for him. Your cheek presses against Kyle’s chest, Kyle’s fingers tangling in your sweaty hair. John’s fingers drag through your folds, gathering Kyle’s cum before pushing it back into you. You gasp as he fills your sensitive pussy, your walls clamping around his fingers.

“Still so sensitive.” He muses, thrusting his fingers into you a couple times before he pulls away, his pants hitting the floor.

The bed dips as he settles behind you, dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick and Kyle’s cum before he presses into you. You moan from the stretch, still a stretch after Kyle.

John’s hands close around your waist, holding your hips still as he starts to thrust shallowly into your pussy. You let out breathy moans, cheek still pressed against Kyle’s chest. His fingers run through your hair, his other hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together.

“Doing so good for our alpha.” He praises you, a shiver running down your spine. “Being a good omega.”

You whine at his praise, arching your back to press your hips against John’s hands.

“She likes that.” He says, starting to thrust into you harder. “Our girl loves being praised, don’t you.”

“Yes,” you whimper, almost drooling against Kyle’s skin and John has barely gotten started.

“Yes, what?” John asks, pausing his thrusts.

“Yes, alpha!” You cry, trying to push back against his hands but he holds you still.

“Good girl.” He praises, resuming his thrusts into you.

Kyle is still breathing heavily under you and you can smell the waves of arousal still coming off of him. No doubt he’s still hard, throbbing against his stomach. You wish you were flexible enough to reach back and help him out, but you can barely hold yourself up as it is.

John picks up his pace, snapping his hips against your ass. The sound of skin on skin and the squelch of your pussy fills the air, along with the sound of your moans and John’s grunts.

“Fuck,” Kyle breathes, long and drawn out as he watches his alpha fuck you, watches the way your ass bounces from John’s hips driving into you. His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging lightly as he lays there helpless.

“So fucking good.” John grunts, hands squeezing your hips tightly. “Love this fucking pussy.”

You whine, your legs starting to tremble again from the pleasure he’s bringing you.

“It’s all mine.” He growls, his thrusts starting to get harder and harder. He’s close to the edge already, riled up after watching you and Kyle.

“All yours.” You gasp, knees nearly giving out under you but his hands keep you upright. “Just for you alpha.”

He lets out another growl, one hand dropping to draw frantic circles around your clit.

You’re a gonner, body trembling as another orgasm washes through you. John doesn’t let up, still fucking into you hard as you squeeze around him, chasing his own high. He keeps circling your clit, dragging your orgasm out as his thrusts start to get erratic, your eyes rolling back as he snaps his hips against yours.

He pushes your body forward as he slams into you one last time, his cock twitching as he spills into you. You slide further up Kyle’s chest, John following you as you drop off your knees, falling forward out of exhaustion. John peppers kisses across your shoulders, hips still pressed tight against your ass.

“So good for me.” He whispers praises against your skin, dragging a hand across your still twitching body.

“Our good girl.” Kyle says, smoothing the hair from your face.

You can’t do much more than grunt tiredly, shuddering when John pulls his cock from your pussy. His fingers drag through your folds, gathering slick and cum before his hand shifts, Kyle’s body tensing under you.

“Oh fuck…” he breathes, his head falling back.

“Go sit on his face.” John says, patting your ass.

You’re too tired to move, but you do it anyway, dragging heavy limbs up until you’re resting over Kyle’s face. He’s moaning quietly as his hands close around your thighs, pulling your dripping pussy down over his mouth. You grip the headboard, holding on as he starts to suck the mix of yours and John’s cum, and probably a little of his own seeping out of you.

“Relax for me.” John says, Kyle’s hands gripping your hips tightly as his shoulders push against your feet.

He’s still moaning against your pussy. You can’t see what’s going on behind you, but you can imagine where John has his fingers. You can picture Kyle’s cock, hard and leaking where it rests against his stomach, John’s hand between his cheeks, two fingers stretching him open, getting him ready for his alpha’s cock.

A shiver runs through you and for a moment you almost want to turn around, but you’re fully seated on Kyle’s face, his hands holding you in place.

Kyle’s body shudders under you, shifting just slightly and you can imagine John pushing his legs up, shifting his hips so he can settle in, the tip of his cock teasing Kyle’s hole. You can tell when he starts to press in, Kyle whining against your pussy, fingers gripping you so tight you might bruise later.

The bed starts to rock back and forth as John starts to move, thrusting into Kyle. Kyle’s head falls back, pulling away from your pussy for just a moment as he basks in the pleasure. The sound of flesh hitting flesh sounds, Kyle letting out a yelp.

“Keep going.” John commands, Kyle’s hands pulling you down harder against his face.

The slow burn of another orgasm starts to build in your belly as Kyle continues to eat you out, his moans and groans vibrating through your clit. He’s getting close himself, you can tell by the way he shakes under you, the sounds coming from his chest getting needier and needier.

“Gonna cum already?” John asks, and you can imagine his hand around Kyle’s cock, squeezing the base of it to try and drag this out as long as he can.

Kyle makes a noise, his hand sliding on your thighs to your ass before he lifts you. “Please, please,” He begs, breathing hard.

“Get back to work and I might just let you cum.” John says, Kyle lowering you back down on his face.

Quiet moans leave your lips as the pleasure continues to build, your oversensitive clit thrumming from the pressure of Kyle’s tongue. He’s getting close as well, no doubt fighting off his orgasm until John deems it okay for him to cum. Such restraint, and control from your good boy.

Kyle’s body is shaking under you as he moans into your pussy, teeth scraping your clit to try and draw your orgasm out, trying to get you to gush all over his face so he can cum. No doubt John is making him wait until you cum again. You grind your hips down against his face, trying to make yourself cum faster for his sake.

John hasn’t slowed at all, grunting as he fucks Kyle into the mattress. You continue to grind against Kyle’s face, dragging his tongue across your clit. You can feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, your sensitive clit throbbing in need. You can do it, you can cum again, one last time.

Kyle moans as you cum, gushing all over his face. He drinks it up as you shake over him, his hands on your thighs keeping you upright as you grip the headboard tightly. John continues his pace, but you can hear his hand jerking Kyle’s cock, the wet sound of skin on skin as he works Kyle up to the orgasm he’s been holding back.

Kyle’s hands push you up off his face as his body shudders, head falling back as he cums, spurting all over his stomach. Your legs are still trembling as you watch, John’s hand milking every last drop out of Kyle’s cock. John’s hips snap into Kyle’s ass a few more times before he stills, groaning as he cums in Kyle.

John leans himself down over Kyle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Kyle smiles softly, his hands smoothing up John’s back. John’s hand slips around the back of your knee, tugging you closer. You lean over, accepting his kiss as he leans toward you. His hand brushes your cheek, cupping it lightly.

“My good beta, and my good omega.” He praises you both, pulling himself out of Kyle. “Did so good for me.”

“Thank you, alpha.” Kyle breathes, pulling John down between the two of you.

“You were so good for us, too.” You say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

John grumbles low in his chest, accepting your praise towards him. He wraps his arms around you both, letting out a long breath as the three of you lay there, recovering.

“The bed held up.” He says after a moment of silence.

You giggle as Kyle chuckles. “That it did.” He says.

“I think you made a good choice.” You say, laying your head on the pillow.

“Well, we’ll have to put it to the true test soon.” John says, and you can’t help the small sound that leaves your lips.

You know exactly what he means.

As the days go by your house gets fuller and fuller, furniture being delivered and décor starting to go up as you finish painting.

It’s starting to feel more and more like a home.

“Can we get a dog?” You ask as the three of you lay in bed one evening.

Kyle glances up from his phone, John marking his page in his book before turning to look down at you.

“Why don’t we get a bit more settled in first before we think about adding animals to the equation.” He says. “We can get one eventually, but the yard needs some serious work first.”

You pout. “But I want one now.”

John huffs, stroking a hand over your hair. “I know, but we still have a lot of work to do and we don’t need a puppy underfoot while we do it. Plus there’s all the training they need.”

“I can train them.” You say. “Besides, it’s not like you’re letting me do much anyway.”

John gives you a look. “Soon, but not right now.”

Your pout deepens and you flop over onto your back. “I just want a dog. And some chickens. And a cow. And some sheep.”

“Big dreams, love.” Kyle says, rolling onto his side next to you.

“I really liked being on a farm.” You say. “It was nice having animals around, and I liked the schedule it keeps you to.”

“Once we’re better settled in.” John says. “It’s not even been a month yet.” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I wish I could give you everything right away, but one of us has to say no.”

“I could say no.” Kyle says, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

John gives him a look. “You’re a sucker for those puppy eyes.”

“So are you.” Kyle retorts, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What if it’s both of us giving you those eyes?”

You can picture the softening of his gaze, those big brown eyes starting to go shiny. You give John your best puppy eyes as well, pouting your lips just a little.

John’s eyes flicker between you for a moment before he sighs. “I can still say no.” He turns around, putting his back to you.

You scoot yourself closer, pressing up against his bare back. “We were just kidding.”

“I know.” John sighs, pulling your arm around his side. Kyle presses up against your back, draping his arm over you to rest on John’s hip. “It’s still a no.”

You pout but you know he’s right. You’re still busy and the last thing you need is something else that needs your attention. You just hope John will decide it’s time sooner rather than later.

You press a soft kiss on the back of his neck before settling in, letting your body relax between your alpha and beta.

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#call of duty #cod fic #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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fanfic-reading-challenge · 6 months ago

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The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge

Welcome to another year of the Fanfic Reading Challenge (FRC)!

I won't bore you with the history of the challenge, this year, but I will welcome you to check out past posts that do explain some of it, as well as include a brief overview of what, exactly, this challenge is, though it does change year to year. (Essentially you read fics to complete goals and win bragging points and an artsy badge.)

This year is especially different, as I had the extreme pleasure of having @noxsoulmate as a partner in crime in keeping me hostage on track to completing this year's FRC. Another valued member of the mod team is @jandjsalmon and speaks for all of us if you need questions answered!

As for the challenge....

This is, indeed, a challenge. Of course.

First of all... you must obviously read fanfiction. As if you don't already!

You also need to download and make your own copy of the spreadsheet, which can be found here, as well as below in the important links section.

To participate in the challenge, you read fics that match the tasks in the challenge. An example of a task can be: "read a fic with a title containing the word purple in it." Should be easy! Of course, there are harder ones.

Which is why there are different modes of challenge to the FRC. These are as follows:

Participation (Complete 1 task)

Regular Mode (Complete 80 tasks)

Hard Mode (Complete 150 tasks)

Extreme Mode (Complete 220 tasks)

Complete (Complete 250 tasks)

The challenge lasts from January 1st, 2025, to December 31st, 2025.

There are badges that go with the modes completed, and even a secret 6th badge that will be fairly obvious if you look at the spreadsheet! Doesn't mean it'll be easy to complete though. *smirks* (Blame Noxy)

Most important of all: this challenge operates on the honour system. We don't check your work, or your reading logs (see below), so I mean, I guess if you want to be slippery with the rules, you do you, and that's on your conscience, but honestly it's so much fun to see how much you can get done by following the letter of the law/tasks! You can be slippery even with following the tasks fully. It's great fun. ;D

I think that's enough for an intro, really, maybe too much.

Important Links and Reading Logs/Trackers

As there is a component of the FRC that includes tracking numbers of words read, most of us use a reading log/tracker to keep count of how many fics we read, including data such as words, of course, chapters, month completed, ship, author, title, fandom, link to the fic, and such. It's a great place to mark what fics you want to read in the future as well!

This year we have FOUR trackers on offer, quite different from one another, so take a look, play around with them and check out their "intros", and choose according to what you think will work best for you!

Fic Tracking Sheets

Juulna's 2025 Reading Log

Noxy's 2025 Reading Log

2025 Jandy's Fic Tracker

Taru's Fic Tracker 2025

Discord

We have a blast on Discord. From general chatter to sharing pet pics to being there for each other during the tough times to forming lasting friendships and making friendships you’d never make in a ship- or fandom-specific Discord, to asking for help ‘rolling the dice’ (pick a number between 1-10!) to choose the next fic to read, to finding some of the really challenging task fills in fandoms people might not have ever read but are willing to try, or finding fandoms someone has never read and is very tentative about stepping out of their box, but they’re being 100% supported and know they don’t need to complete the fic for it to count for the task, stepping out of their comfort zone… we’ve formed a very odd group of, if not friends, then companions (but there are definite friendships that have formed!! Just ask the people who have started watching NHL and NFL together in our off topic channel!).

In any case, our Discord is not necessary, but it is a worthy and tactical element to completing many of the tasks of this challenge. 💙

And.... without further ado....!

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge! (link)

There is an info/rules page as the first sheet on the spreadsheet that should fill in any further questions you have. It also has more contact info than just this page if you have any further questions and perhaps need a more immediate answer for your needs.

*Occasionally you will run into something that looks like an error, and it may in fact be one! Let us know if you see it. It's hard not to make a mistake on as large a spreadsheet as this.*

Please, first of all, have fun and just read fanfiction that you enjoy! I (Juulna) did that last year and didn't even come close to completing the entire challenge, and I still had a blast because I was enjoying what I was reading and rereading. Others took the challenge right to the completed end. Others forgot about it halfway through but still had fun, and some even went back and filled in the sheet for a really good showing! The challenge is what you make of it, what you want from it. So... just have fun. Read fic. Smile. Enjoy. :)

Second of all... well, we would love if you signal boost this post!!!!

Third of all, we do have our pinned post that includes a link to this page and that will include a link to our Discord and all our trackers as well, including past links for memento and informative purposes.

Thank you, and a blessed 2025 to all!

#2025frc #2025 fic reading challenge #fic reading challenge #fanfic reading challenge #reading challenge #fandom events #fanfiction #challenges #goals #2025 goals #new year's resolutions

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xmunsonlovex · 4 months ago

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Somewhere I Belong

Summary: You leave home for a new opportunity in Hawkins. You're on your own, and your first day, you meet your metal head neighbor. Will this be the start of something that you've always been longing for, or will you keep it at a distance, as you always do.

Pt.2

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

wc: 8600+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. female reader, reader has low self esteem and a lot of insecurities, slight angst, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc) mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral(f!receiving) reader is inexperienced and a virgin, mutual pinning, idiots in love, eventual smut in later chapter(s), Eddie is little bit of perv, but only for you.

a/n: It's here, guys. A day earlier than I had originally set myself to release it. I had to break it up into multiple parts, which I am currently writing already. I hope to have pt.2 out next week. That'll be the smutty chapter, for those wanting to see these 2 take the next step. Thank you to whoever reads this, I hope you like it. While I've read HUNDREDS of fics from all you lovely loves here on Tumblr, this is my first fic I have ever written. I think I read it over at least 20 times. I'm sure there are still many grammatical errors and things I may have missed. Please let me know if you like it. Please reblog and comment your thoughts 💗

Dividers by: saradika-graphics

You huffed as you placed the last box of your belongings on the carpeted floor. This definitely needs to be replaced, you thought as you looked at it. The move to Hawkins was grueling, between heavy traffic and nasty weather, you were trying to just make it there in one piece. Thankfully you did, and now you stood in the middle of your living room, taking in your new surroundings. It's around 6pm, and it's starting to get dark. You felt lucky to have a nice view of the sunset from your backyard, if you could call it that. It was a small section with enough space for maybe a little garden (you’ve always dreamt of growing your own veggies), and patio chairs. You had found the relatively inexpensive trailer for sale in a community called Forest Hills in Hawkins. Looking at the photos, you knew it needed some repairs. A new paint job too, maybe, but with your new job in the city, you figured you'd make it your own in no time. It was supposed to pay fairly well too, working as an administrative assistant.

You walk over to the kitchen, checking the fridge and stove. All seemed to work fine for now, and with that, you were putting away your kitchen belongings in the cupboards, making note to fix the wobbly door to each cabinet. A box of Mac and Cheese sat on the counter while you boiled some water in a small pot, and then started to cut up some cucumbers and cherry tomatoes, making your favorite salad. You were singing to yourself as you made your food, that you didn't hear the knock on the door. It was soft at first, but quickly became louder after the 4th knock. You grabbed a towel to dry off your wet hands, and walked to your front door, looking through the peephole, but could not make out who was on the other side. You opened the door just a bit, and see a frizzy- haired man, who didn't look much older than you. He sported a denim jacket with lots of heavy metal band patches on it. That definitely caught your eye.

"Hey Jack-" He turned his head to look at you, then scratched at his cheek. "You're not Jack.." He said.

"Hi, no. I'm not. I'm guessing he's the one I bought this trailer from though..?" You asked, a small smile on your lips. He was cute, you thought.

"Makes sense. I haven't seen him in like..2 weeks. I thought maybe he went on vacation then got another car.." he pointed to your shitty car that sat on your driveway, practically falling apart. "You left the trunk open. I um..closed it for you. Don't want any raccoons to get in there.." He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

You smiled at him, and nodded. Of course you left it open. "Thank you. I was doing a million things at once.." You sighed, and rubbed your forehead. "I just moved in today. I'm Y/N, by the way.." you say, noticing him smile softly when you mentioned your name. "I'm Eddie. I live next door to you.." He nodded towards his trailer and then kicked a rock as he looked down, making sure it went to the side rather than in your home. "Well, nice to meet you, Eddie. I uhm, I'll see you around? I have dinner cooking right now. Don’t want to burn down my new home.” You said with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Maybe I can show you around town..whenever you're free." He says quickly. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes, they could put you in a trance. "I'm usually home by 5:30..and I'm off on Sundays."

“Ok, yeah, I like that idea. I’m off on the weekends, so that works out.” You say.

He felt a giddiness inside him, the thought of making a new friend and even the possibility that the friendship could turn into something more, gave him butterflies. Hope, even. For so long, he was used to being blamed for the events that happened in Hawkins. For so long..he was called a freak and spat at for his taste in music. He wasn't a bad guy, at least he didn't think so. Steve and Robin, and the boys (who were all graduated now) didn't think so. So why was it so hard for him to make other friends? To get a date? He was tired of the meaningless sex that usually transpired at The Hideout, not that it happened often. He wouldn't call himself a ladies man by any means, or someone the girls would seek after. Most times, girls wanted something from it. A little weed. Or maybe the right to brag that they had a quickie with a front man of a rock-band. They never specified which band, though. So when the opportunity arose to show a pretty, new girl around town, he was absolutely going to take the chance to do that.

"I'll stop by Sunday. I can show you around town, and where to go for all the good food places. Maybe I can take you..to get some groceries, if you need. I don't mind." Eddie offered.

"Ok, yeah, thank you, Eddie. I uhm...gotta get going though, but I’ll see you Sunday." You try to sound confident, but it comes out a bit shy and timid, instead. He says goodbye, and you watch him jog to his trailer, looking over at you and waving before going inside his home. You can't help but bite your lower lip, knowing he would be trouble. You weren't exactly looking for a relationship, not romantically anyway. It was embarrassing to think about the fact you had no experience aside from a few pecks on the lips from the 3 dates you had gone on back at home. The dates always ended with a "I had a nice time, but I think we should see other people." You weren't sure if you were maybe too boring for them, or maybe it was your looks? Your self esteem had always been low, even back to when you were in middle school. Kids were relentless and brutal.

High school was no better. Girls were rude and mocked you for your style, or lack thereof. Boys were cruel too. Laughing when you once tripped over your own feet, nervous around a football player you liked. He looked at you apologetically but it didn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth when your knees and palms slammed on the tile floor. You were 23 now and still remembered it like yesterday. It was the reason you left home. Your mom was sad, she'd definitely miss you but understood the change you needed in your life. She wasn't about to stop you from becoming a better version of yourself. And this was your chance.

Sunday rolled around way quicker than you anticipated. Between putting away the remainder of your items around the house and doing a deep clean; you were exhausted. But, looking forward to the city tour with your new neighbor. You had woken up earlier than usual to have a shower and a quick breakfast to settle your growling stomach from skipping dinner the night before. After finishing your food, and cleaning up the kitchen, you grabbed your purse and keys, setting them on the small console table by the door as you pace around, growing a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to show you around? He probably had better things to do. Your thoughts were promptly silenced as a knock was heard. Giving it a couple of seconds to not seem too eager, you then walked to your door and opened it. Eddie smiled. You could tell he was freshly showered, his hair still a little wet and the smell of soap mixed with some cologne invaded your nostrils.

"Morning, I have an appointment with Ms. Y/N." He said, with a sheepish smile. You giggled.

"Good Morning, sir. Yes, I'll be happy to help you with that. Please come in and take a seat. She will be right with you. Could I offer you some water?" You say in your most professional voice. Eddie was in your home now, admiring your decor. It was simple but you. There were some framed photos on the wall; and a light blue couch taking up quite a bit of space in the living room.

"Huh? Oh yes, thank you ma'am." He said and took a seat on the couch, that intoxicating smile now reaching his eyes. "You're a metal fan." He said, noticing your CD and vinyl collection by the TV stand. "Hmm. Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath...Dio??" He said excitedly, holding the vinyl for Holy Diver. Oh, he's going to have to marry you, now.

"Yeah, I love them. My dad’s a huge fan. Would put the album on when I was younger." You say, smiling at the fond memories, then hand over a glass of cold water to Eddie, who accepts it with a smile. "I fear that you will never get rid of me, now. These are my favorite bands. Not to mention...there is some stuff here that I haven't listened to yet..you have quite the extensive library, sweetheart." He chuckled. The heat that emitted from your cheeks at the nickname was for sure evident, you thought. No way he didn’t see the pink tint on your face. And he did. He proudly gave himself a mental high-five for making you blush.

"Alright, let's get going. I have loads to show you." Eddie said after drinking the water you so kindly offered him.

Eddie took you around to all his favorite spots in Hawkins, starting with showing you where your new job was located, then drove back south towards Hawkins again. You learned a lot about him while he drove you around. He was 25, worked as a mechanic at a local auto repair shop, and on some weekends, he'd play with his band, Corroded Coffin, at a bar called The Hideout. You said you'd definitely go see him play and that you were sure he sounded amazing, despite him saying otherwise. That made him blush this time around.

"So, this is where I went to high school, figured I'd show you since it's on the way to the farmers market you wanted to go to." He tapped on the steering wheel. His hands couldn’t stay still, between either the tapping or him playing air drums to the song that quietly played on his radio.

“Kind of looks like my school...but mine was filled with the most obnoxious and hateful people I'd ever met." You say, your tone a bit softer. "It's the main reason I left home. Everyone I knew...they held this standard of 'I'm better than you.' A lot of people with money. An easy life. Meanwhile, my mom worked her ass off all day and night to keep our mouths fed." You then fell quiet for a bit. "I hated my high school years.." You chuckle faintly and look over at him, who looked back at you while he waited at a red light. "I know all about that.." He nodded. "I wasn't a...popular guy in high school either. I was bullied here and there, but most people left me alone. They didn't want to mess with the one guy who dealt them their weed. Or whatever drug they needed." He said, a little bit of a white lie but you didn't need to know the whole story. With that, he winked at you with a small smirk, and drove to the farmers market.

"What?! How can you not like cucumbers? They're so tasty! With some salt and ranch. So good." You said, laughing as he made a gagging face while you picked some fresh fruit and placed them in the basket you were holding. "Respectfully darling, they taste so bland. Like crunchy water."

You scoff and shake your head. "They’re super healthy, though. If you ever come over for lunch or something, I'll make you my special tomato and cucumber salad. It has some dill weed in it. And ranch. You'll love it."

"I take it back. I don't think I can hang out with you anymore. Dill weed? You're killing me here." He joked. The laugh that you let out was now his favorite sound in the world. A genuine laugh at his lame attempt at joking around with you.

After you paid for the fruits, he gently placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the next stall, which was selling homemade sauces and jams. The older woman on the other side of the table gives Eddie a rather unpleasant look, then notices you. What she can only imagine to be this innocent young woman who is being put under a spell by Eddie the "devil worshipper". This worried her. It took her no time to pull out a pamphlet of their local church, and handed it to you, but you immediately shut that down, and handed it back to her.

"I appreciate the suggestion, but..I'm not really religious. Thank you. I'd just like to buy-"

"I will not sell my items to devil worshippers like you and Munson, here." Her tone immediately changed to unfriendly and unwelcoming. Eddie felt himself start to get angry, not so much of what she said about him. He was used to that. But because now you'd been given the same treatment as him, and you didn't deserve that. You were sweet. And so beautiful. Welcomed him with a smile rather than spiteful comments and-

“That's OK. I can go spend my money elsewhere. I saw a few stalls that had better prices, actually. And frankly, they also seemed nicer. I can't imagine your jams and sauces taste any good when you have such hate in your heart.” You say. It wasn't meant to be an insult or anything of that nature, you genuinely didn't know why she was being so mean to Eddie. He looked at you, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Come on, I know the one.” Eddie grabbed your hand, leading you to a different part of the market. Near the parking lot.

“Hi Sammy. Y/N, is this what you're looking for?” He asked you, this vendor was selling lots of different jams. He'd known about him from The Wheelers. Particularly Nancy. “You bring me a new customer? Eddie. How can I ever repay you?” Sammy smiled fondly at him. One of the very few people in town that treated Eddie with some dignity.

“Yes. I'm new in town. Wanted to check out the local farmers market. See what you guys had.” You smile shyly. Eddie came to the conclusion that you were quite shy by nature. Not that he was observing every small detail of you on purpose. Or maybe..

“Oh, Eddie. She's so sweet! Polar opposites, I see.” He joked and Eddie glared at him, with no real mean intention behind it. “Teasing. Eddie's a great guy. You've made a wonderful friend.” He hyped him up, trying to be a wingman of sorts.

“I agree.” You simply say, worried you'd start babbling. Wouldn't be the first time, and instead, you offer Eddie a warm smile as you look at him, a look that lingered for a couple seconds longer than usual. “Alrighty lovebirds. What can I get for yah?” Sammy smirked, looking at both you and Eddie, noticing the flustered expressions. Oh, young love.

“Um, yes. I would like the grape, blackberry and..peach jam, please.” You say, your face is on fire as you stutter your words. Get a hold of yourself. You hadn’t known Eddie for more than a week, and already you were a mess. Stumbling over your words, blushing every time his fingertips brushed your skin or sent a sweet nickname your way. Eddie is definitely going to be the death of you. Sammy hands you the 3 jars of jam, and puts them in a brown paper bag, adding a smaller jar in there with the others. “This one is my famous strawberry jam. My bestseller. This sample is on me. Let me know if you like it.” He says, smiling sweetly as he hands you the bag. You pull out your wallet, and go to grab some money, but Eddie stops you, grabbing his own wallet quicker. “I got it..” He mumbled with a smile, and before you could put up a fight, he slapped a 20 dollar bill on Sammy’s palm. “I'll see you, Sam.” Eddie says and he guides you two to walk over to his van.

“Anything else you want to do?” He asked, opening the door for you and watching as you go in, his eyes admiring the round of your ass. He shakes the impure thoughts from his mind, and watches you buckle yourself in.

“We can head home. Maybe I can make you some lunch? At…my place. If-if you want. I don’t want to impose, or anything. I’m sure you’re a busy guy and all-” He chuckles at your rambling, thinking you couldn’t possibly be any cuter than you already were. Oh, he’s in trouble, as well.

“Let’s go have some lunch. I guess I’ll try this special cucumber and tomato salad you keep trying to sell me on. With the dill weed and ranch.” He smirked, and gently shut the door to his van, then went around and got in the driver side, buckling in. “Ready, madam?” He said, shaking his wild mane side to side. He turned his head towards you, and gave you a goofy smile as he started the van, and then drove out of the parking lot. You softly laughed at his antics, already enamoured with him. “Hey Eddie, can I ask you something?” You cautiously say, not sure whether this would offend him. “Hm.” He replies, turning left to get into the correct lane towards the trailer park. “Do people really think you’re a satanist? I mean..if..you are, I promise I am not bothered by it. I don’t put down anyone’s beliefs. Unless you’re a shitty person. Which I do not believe you are. You’ve been really nice to me.” You say, once again, rambling. “I am. Why do you think the whole town gives me such scared looks? Poor Jeannie, the lady with the jams, was so upset when I sacrificed her chickens and goats. But..I needed them! I wish she’d just understand.” He sighed, shaking his head and then glanced at you, finding you wide-eyed. “I’m joking, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh, and came to a full stop right before their turn. “This town is very stuck on old beliefs. I like metal music, and the media painting it as the devil’s music a few years ago certainly didn’t help my case. I also played dungeons and dragons in high school, still do actually. And this whole place came after me with pitchforks.” He once again left out some important key facts regarding the history of Hawkins. A conversation for another day, perhaps. “Not everyone is horrible, but I’ve kept my circle small for this very reason.” He added.

Once he arrived back at the trailer park, he parked his van at his place after dropping you off at your front door like a gentleman. He said he’d come over in about 20 minutes, saying he had a few calls he had to make. You didn’t ask any questions, and instead focused on getting started on lunch. Your “special” salad, along with some sandwiches, chips and 2 glasses of cold cokes. You hoped he would enjoy it, now second guessing everything you just did. To the paper plates you placed the food on, to the silly Halloween table cloth you had put on your small dining table. It was only March. You thought of earlier as you sat on your couch waiting for him. When he placed his hand on the small of your back. His hand felt like fire on you, over your clothes and yet, you recall the goosebumps traveling all over your body from such a simple and soft touch. You wondered how his hands would feel on other parts. Your shoulders. Massaging out years of tension and stress. Wondered how his hands would feel if he held your cheek in a romantic manner. Or what they would feel like caressing your neck down to your arms, until they were in an area you wanted to feel him the most. You shut your eyes tightly, and lean your head back against the top of the cushion on the couch, letting out a soft sigh.Your insecurities overwhelming you as you sat there alone with your thoughts.

“Steve, I..I need your guidance here, man.” Eddie panicked over the phone, pacing his small kitchen, playing with the phone cord out of habit. “What are you talking about? You got this. It’s like a damn movie. A cute girl moves in next door. Voluntarily wants to hang out with you. You’re golden!” He tries his best to comfort Eddie in his state of anxiety. “I don’t know. She’s beautiful, absolutely. Is she wanting to hang out, out of pity, though? Because some dumbass called me a freak in front of her? Is she-” Eddie is quickly cut off by Steve. “Yes. She is inviting you over for lunch, after she accepted your offer to show her around town, and laughed at your jokes, because she feels bad that some lonely, old woman called you a freak.” Steve deadpanned. “You really think so?�� Eddie sadly sighed. Steve wanted to strangle him over the phone. “Eddie, no! I know your expertise with women isn’t as evolved as mine…but listen when I tell you, she’s into you. To some degree, anyway! Go over, have lunch with her. Be a little flirty. See where it goes. No harm in trying.” Steve smiled. Easy for the Stud of Hawkins to say.

You hear a knock at your door, one you were now familiar with, pulling you out of your negative thoughts. Something you really had to work on. You’re a little quicker to answer the door this time, and see Eddie standing there with a few flowers he picked from The Wilson’s front yard on the other side of his trailer. They’ll never notice, he’d argue. “Oh wow, those are so pretty..” You say, your attention immediately drawn to the light blue flowers in his hand. He swallows hard. “Just like you.” He smiles softly, and hands them to you, and you graciously take them. He doesn’t miss the crimson blush that spreads over your cheeks to your ears. “Thank you, Eddie. Come in.” You bashfully say, stepping aside to let him in, and then shut your door. “I made us lunch. Um, I hope it’s to your liking.” He watches you walk into the kitchen, grab a small vase and add water to it, then place the flowers he picked out into it. “I’m sure I will love it. Let’s try that salad, huh?” He said and sat down at the table.

It was close to 6 in the afternoon now, and Eddie was helping you clean up the dining table, his belly full of the delicious food you made. “Sooo…I could tell you liked the salad. Just admit it. Cucumbers are amazing.” You smirk, looking at him. “Whoa. Let’s not get crazy. You’re lucky that I am fond of you.” He throws the paper plates in the trash, with your approval of course. “But yes, it was really good, Y/N.” He smiles, looking back at you. “I wanted to ask you something now.” Eddie says, walking up to you as you stood by the kitchen entryway. You feel your heartbeat start to hammer in your chest at the close proximity. Noticing the faint freckles that paint his upper cheeks. He is so pretty.

“My band is playing next weekend. At The Hideout. I would…really like for you to be there. We go on stage at 9..Not too late at night. And! You’ll get to meet my friends. Steven and Robin. Possibly Nancy. She doesn’t care for the loud music, so she doesn’t really go to these things.” He said, looking down at his feet, then up at you, trying to read your expression. “What if they don’t like me?” You say, your voice so small, you wanted to curl into yourself and disappear. His features soften, and he places his hand over yours, which was on the kitchen counter.

“Believe me, they will love you.” He gives your hand a comforting caress, making you a blushing mess for what felt like the 50th time today.

“I would love to meet them. And to see you perform.” You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm your anxiety. He could make out that you were a little hesitant in your response.

“Do I make you nervous?” He says suddenly, his eyes boring into yours. You freeze at his question, because it was as if his demeanor changed in a blink of an eye; from gentle to dominating. It was all in the way he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“N-no. No, not really. I mean, I am just a shy person. I get nervous around new people. As you can tell.” You say. He takes your hand in his, holding it, and flashes you a warm smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fit right in with us. I promise. They don’t bite.” He then leans in, close to your ear, whispering. “Though, I do a little.” Eddie says, and patted your hand, smirking. He learned that he really liked to make you squirm, and see you flustered. Sometimes he would get this burst of confidence that he had to take advantage of. It’s how he got himself more gigs at The Hideout. How he got himself a better paying position as a mechanic at J’s Auto Service. That was a milestone, because he was able to save up enough money to get Wayne his own trailer a few blocks away, in a better neighborhood. He deserved it.

You open the door for Eddie, smiling as you watch him check the doors hinges, making sure the lock worked well, for your safety, of course. “Well, have a great first day at work. If you need anything, give me a call, ok?” He assures you that giving him a call at work would be the highlight of his day. “And you can call me whenever you want too. You know I’m all alone here.” You giggle, biting your lower lip. The playful flirting that occurred throughout the day really put you in good spirits, giving you a tiny bit of confidence. “I’ll definitely remember that. Sleep well, princess.” Eddie smirks, and walks down your porch, but stops to look over your car. “You’ll need new tires soon. You should bring it into the shop during the week. I’ll take a look at it and do an inspection.” He then waves, giving you no time to answer.

It’s Friday afternoon, and you had 2 hours left of your shift. Counting the minutes until it was 5:00. You didn’t mind the job, it was practically the same as your office position back at home; filing papers, taking calls and sending out emails all day. While this position gave you a bit more responsibility and tasks, the environment was relaxed and the rest of the staff seemed to be chill. One girl, Veronica, would come over and talk to you on her way back in from her smoke breaks. You remembered Eddie smelled the same. He must smoke often enough.

“Are you doing anything fun this weekend? Not much to do in Hawkins.” Veronica popped her chewing gum, playing with a strand of her long hair as she leaned at the reception desk, looking at you.

“I am, actually! My neighbor asked me to go to The Hideout. To see his band play.”

“Eddie Munson? Ugh. The Hideout is so gross. He always takes all the girls there.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling as she nonchalantly picked her nails, admiring the design painted on them. She’d excitedly showed them to you earlier in the day. Your heart nearly sunk to your ass hearing her say that. Were you just another easy girl to him? No way would you give yourself up that easily to Eddie, or any man for that matter, and you didn’t feel that you gave off that kind of energy. You wondered if his whole shy persona was just a ploy to sleep with you, and call it a day. You were sure you liked Eddie. And you thought he genuinely liked you too. He had been so kind to you throughout the week, you reminded yourself. Everytime you came home, roughly 15 minutes after him, he’d walk over and greet you. Ask about your day. Smile and even hug you goodnight after you two would chat for a bit. It was like clockwork, at this point.

“I don’t think this is a date. Just..him being a friendly neighbor.” You shrug, trying to sound indifferent to the news she just broke to you.

“Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but he most likely thinks it's a date. And will probably end up fucking you in that smelly, tiny bathroom in the back of the bar. He does this every time. Will fuck anything in a mini skirt.” She shrugged. “Just use protection, doll.” She winked at you and walked back to her cubicle, sighing loudly as she sat down. You try to blink away the stinging in your eyes, focusing your attention on your keyboard. You absolutely did not need to cry your first week at work. It would be almost as embarrassing as you falling for your next door neighbor in such a short span of time.

It’s 5pm and you’re driving home, hoping you arrive before Eddie does. Luck must be on your side because you make it by 5:27, and quickly get out of your car, nearly tripping up the steps to your front door as you rush to pull out your key from your large purse. This stupid, big ass bag. You unlock your door, and shut it behind you, locking it back up. Your breathing is heavy as you let your body fall in disappointment. The sun shines through your kitchen window, illuminating the flowers he had picked out for you. They were still lively and vibrant. You made sure to change the water every couple of days to keep as so. You’re sulking as you decide to go and take a hot shower, to clear your mind. Then you hear his van roll in, music blasting from it.

Eddie looks at your driveway to see your car parked, in a rather chaotic way. You must’ve been excited that it was Friday. Maybe you were excited to see him and wanted to share how crazy of a day you had. He hoped that was the case, since he was ecstatic to see you. On his way to work earlier today, he stopped by the record store next to the J’s Shop, and saw Alice Cooper’s new album, Hey Stoopid. He recalls you mentioning that you’d been looking for the vinyl, wanting to add it to your collection. He gathered the last few bills he had on him, and bought it for you. He figured he’d make some extra cash anyway at The Hideout before the show, selling to the usuals.

He knocks at your door, practically beaming. He’s so excited to gift you this album, knowing it would make you happy. That’s all he wants and cares about. When you don’t answer after his 4th knock, he tries a few more times. “Hm..” He ponders, and leans to the left, trying to peek into your living room window, but the curtain blocks anyone from seeing inside. “Hey, Y/N?” He calls out. He assumes you're in the bathroom when you don't answer, and decides to possibly try again later. He wouldn’t want to disturb your “you time” in there. You hear him jog back to his trailer, his chain wallet giving him away. You felt bad, but then remember what Veronica said to you earlier in the day. That was why you were avoiding him in the first place. Though, it would be impossible to do this everyday. Well, for now, you're just going to try your best to hide from him. That means, you’ll have to stand him up at The Hideout. You turn on the shower after stripping off your work clothes and stood there for what felt like hours, playing every scenario in your mind.

Eddie is tapping his foot impatiently on his carpeted floor, his much more worn out than yours. It's close to 8:30p and you still haven't come over. And he's contemplating whether to go over to your house or not. Your lights are not on. He guesses you had a really bad day at work, and instead of bugging you, he leaves you to rest. The album can wait for tomorrow morning.

It’s bright and early, you can hear the birds chirping from your bedroom window. You rub the sleep from your eyes and groan, sitting up on your bed, looking over to look at the time. The clock read 09:47a. You better get up and make most of your Saturday as you do not plan on leaving your 4 walls tomorrow. You stretch as you stand up, and walk over to your fridge, and then jump at the loud knock. “Y/N!” a familiar voice calls out. Fuck. Ok, you need to at least confront him of his true intentions. Whether you were just another girl to him, and nothing more. You close up your robe a little as you drag your feet, letting out a shaky breath as you open the door.

“Oh, thank god!” He breathes in relief. “ I was worried about you.” He said.

“Right..well. I’m ok. Just trying to rest up.” You said. He notices your tone is a bit more cold.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to check up on you. I knocked yesterday, but didn’t see you. Did you have a bad day at work?” He said, frowning now.

“You can say that-”

“Then I have something that will cheer you up! Close your eyes.” He grinned, practically jumping in excitement. You raise your brow, and hesitantly shut your eyes, then feel his warm hands grab yours, pulling them out in front of you. You feel a heavy-ish item now land on your hands and you immediately open your eyes. “Oh shit..” You hold the album, looking at it. It was a special edition one.

“Eddie..how’d you find this?” You say quietly, a smile growing on your face.

“Saw it at the record store. Had to get it for you.” He couldn’t be any prouder. He got you out of whatever slump you were feeling.

“Oh Eddie..I know this had to be expensive. Let me pay you back.”

He shook those curls you were so crazy about. “Nope. I only request your presence tonight, sweetheart. Steve and Robin are dying to meet you.” He says, crossing his arms. Your gaze travels down to them, admiring the tattoos and oh. He’s caught you staring, that smirk on his face confirms that. “I-I will be there.” You nod, going against everything you said to yourself the night before. “Great! I have some errands to run, but I will see you tonight, darling.” He bows like you are his Queen, and you might as well be at this point. You giggle, and watch him go to this van, wave at you and drive off. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

You’re standing in line at The Hideout, waiting to be let in. You assumed that you had to wait like everyone else. There weren't that many people, about 50 all together but judging by the size of the bar, it would be a full house. You dress in a low-cut top, purposely choosing one that showed a decent amount of cleavage. A cardigan rests over your arm, and you opted for black leggings, the ones that made your ass look the best. If Eddie really did intend for this to be a date, you might as well look the best you could, with what you currently had in your closet. You hear your name being called out, and you see Eddie jog over to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless DIO shirt, and leather pants, his combat boots all untied. He looks so good. You’re practically drooling.

“What are you doing here?” He incredulously asks.

“I..you invited me.” You play with your fingers, nails digging into your skin.

“Babe, I meant in line.” He reaches out, grabbing your hand and pulls you out of the line, where all eyes then fall on you and him. You noticed a few girls eye Eddie, too. Almost like a prey. “You get backstage access, doll.” He whispers as he leanes into you, and smirks. “You’re VIP.” He holds your hand, and takes you to the back of the bar, opening the door that lead you inside. “After you.” He says, eyes falling to your ass. It looked so plump in those pants, so biteable.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He says, admiring the subtle make up you had on. It wasn’t much, just some mascara and eyeliner. A little foundation to hide any blemishes and imperfections. “I like this top.” He runs his fingers over the fabric near your collarbone. Your cheeks heat up, as you send him a smile, looking down all shyly.

“Eddie!” A man calls out, and you look to your left. You assume that is Steve, and a girl walking alongside with him. Robin?

“Hey, man. Glad you could make it. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N…this is Steve and Robin. And as I assumed, Nancy did not make it today.”

“Or ever. You know this isn’t her scene. She’s out with Jonathan, anyway.” Steve shrugged and turned his attention towards you. “Nice to meet you. Eddie has talked non stop about you.” He smirks over at Eddie who is internally cussing him out. “Let’s go get some good seats.” Robin smiles at you, and grabs your arm, locking it with hers as she pulls you to the stage floor.

“Ughhh Steve, why’d you say that? Now she’s going to think I’m obsessed.” Eddie rubs his face, giving him a look.

“Are you not?” Steve smirks, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. Eddie shook his head and bit his nails, nervously. “I like her, alot.” He admitted to Steve, eyes following you around as Robin decided which area was the best to stand at. He liked how nervous you were around him. You were the sweetest girl he’d ever known. On the opposite end, he also felt like a creep though. All the perverse thoughts he had about you. They’d come to him when he was in bed late at night, a rhythmic movement of his hand over his aching cock as he'd imagine his tongue deep in your wet, throbbing pussy, satisfying his hunger.

“I gotta get onstage, and set up.” He says to Steve, wanting to avoid any more of Steve’s banter. He nods, then meets up with you and Robin on the stage floor. Your gaze follows Eddie onstage, where he and the rest of the band finish setting up. He winks at you, and tunes his guitar. Most of all the equipment is there, just had to be connected and set up in the proper place.

“You excited to see the show? They’re actually really good! It’s a shame they haven’t been signed by a record label yet.” Robin says. You are caged in, front row, between both Robin and Steve. “Yeah, I’m excited. I just..don’t want to get my hopes up. Feelings hurt and all.” You say softly, seeing all the people from outside being let in.

“What do you mean? Their songs are not really offensive.” Robin says.

“Well, unless you’re someone with sensitive hearing. They’re loud.” Steve snorts.

“No, I mean. I don’t want Eddie to see me as..like the other girls that he brings here?” You say, a little unsure if you are going to get your point across. Their his friends, obviously they’re going to take his side.

Steve snorts again. “What girls?”

“All..the girls..?” You say, feeling a bit foolish at that moment. “This chick I work with knows Eddie. Says he brings all his dates here. And uhm, has his way with them. I'm not-it's not that I'm not attracted to him. He's super handsome, but I don't want it to be that type of date. I like him and don’t want it to be a one night stand type of date..” You nervously chew on the inside of your cheek.

Steve and Robin both start to laugh, a good belly laugh, which makes Eddie look at you three. What are they telling you about him?

“Y/N. He's NOT like that. At all. I don't know who that chick is, but Eddie is lucky if he's able to get a girl to look his way anymore.” Robin said.

“I mean, he's had girlfriends and dates, sure. But to say he brings all the girls here like he's some ladies man, is comical.” Steve said. “But don't tell him we said that.” He smirks. “Eddie is a great guy, Y/N. And I'm not just saying that because he's my best friend.” Steve looked up at him. “Shows starting.” He says to you, nudging your shoulder with his as the lights dim, and a loud guitar note plays. The stage area is packed with all the people from outside, and they cheer. The band seems to have a large following, people singing along to the songs. A lot of older, trucker looking guys and scattered were lots of girls too, older and younger, like yourself. In the middle of the setlist, you see Eddie grab the mic, placing his foot on the amp as he addresses the crowd, thanking them for coming out and supporting the band. He had a little surprise for you, and hoped you listened to Alice Cooper’s previous album, Trash, because he was going to cover one of the songs on there. He figured he’d take the risk and sing Spark in the Dark. The lyrics were quite suggestive, and maybe tonight, he’d be brave enough to make a first move.

You immediately recognized the guitar riff to the song, a big smile forming on your face, as you were by now more relaxed and enjoying the show, just like Robin and Steve suggested.

“Ah, welcome to the party.

It’s only me and you

Tell the world to go away, babe

And I’ll tell you what to do

Come over here and kiss me

I wanna pull your hair

Turn out the lights and hold me

I wanna touch you everywhere”

You sing along, all while your face is burning from the blush that spread over your cheeks, and thankful the stage lights are not pointed directly at you. You were certain you’d combust. You also notice a familiar sensation, one that was directly between your thighs. One that needed to be taken care of. Preferably by the front man looking down at you.

“We don’t need nobody, baby

We don’t need champagne

I’ll take you to the deepest

Darkest, hottest lover’s lane

For a little spark in the dark

Just a little spark in the dark.”

You’re staring at each other as he sings the song. You’re singing along, and he’s so good up there. Your favorite rockstar. You notice his hips move a little with every enunciation during the chorus. He grabs the mic stand, placing the mic on it as the guitar rests over his hips, hiding the semi he’s rocking right now thanks to the song’s lyrics and the perfect view he has of your cleavage.

“I’ll come ‘round midnight

We’ll be crawling on the floor

Burnin’ with a fever

And yellin’ out for more

But don’t you write in your diary, baby

Don’t blab it on the phone

‘Cause if your dad and mom find out,

They’ll skin me to the bone.

We don’t need instructions, baby

Don’t you be afraid

It takes a little friction, uh-uh

That’s how our love is made

For a little spark in the dark.”

You want to melt into a puddle once the song is finished, noticing the sweat that glistens his skin, still sporting that sleeveless tank top. He sings a few more covers, and once the show is over, he bows to everyone, then directly tosses you a guitar pick. You’re giddy, as you’re bouncing on your tippy toes, holding it between your fingers.

“Look at the fangirl, now.” Robin smirks, clapping as the band gets off stage. “We get backstage privileges, being long time friends of the band and all.” She laughs, walking to the back of the bar, noticing the crowd had spread out between leaving for the night, and others to sit at the bar. You follow Robin and Steve, until you reach a room that almost looked like a utility room with all the amps.”Hey!” Eddie says, wiping the sweat off with a small towel. He looks directly at you, as if Robin and Steve aren’t even in the room. “That was amazing! And…the cover was really good, too.” You blush and try not to be too obvious as your eyes scan his body. His shirt is all damp from his sweat, shirt stuck to his body. You could make out his toned stomach.

“I’d give you a thank you hug, but I smell. And I’m all sweaty.” He chuckles, noticing you shifting a little, your thighs pressing together. He gives you a little knowing smirk, and pulls out a cigarette, but Robin is quick to snatch it.

“No smoking. Especially not around your date.” Robin speaks out.

“You’re right. Bad habit, and manners. Sorry. sweetheart.” He cheekily smiles and puts away the pack of cigarettes.

“We gotta get going, but we’ll see you later, Eds. Come on Steve. Remember…we had that thing we had to do..” Robin says, pulling him on his arm. “OH right! That thing. Yes. Alright, you two have a good and eventful night. Nice meeting you, Y/N! We look forward to seeing you again real soon!!” Steve says as both him and Robin go running out. You let out a soft laugh then look over at Eddie, who is looking at you, not once did his sight move away from you.

“Can we..talk?” You say to him.

Oh fuck, did he do something wrong? Was it the way he was looking at you? Shit.

“Of course. We can step outside. It’s hot as fuck in here.” He says and you both walk out into the back of the bar, the loud slam of the door shutting making you jump. Eddie is nervous now. He’s sure you’re about to break the news to him that you don’t want anything to do with him. Maybe you found out of his late night activities, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He was sure you partake in those kinds of solo activities. Maybe you believed he was truly a devil worshipper. How can he convince you otherwise?

“I uhm, almost didn’t come tonight.” You start.

This makes his chest feel heavy. He’d done something, surely.

“How come?” His voice is small.

“I was stupid. I believed something someone at my job said about you.” Your stare is focused on the littered and dirty floor, not wanting to meet his eyes. You felt ashamed.

“What’d they say about me?”

“I-I don’t-”

“What’d they say about me, Y/N? I assure you..I’ve heard it all. I’m used to it at this point in my life.” He says, his tone was a bit more irate and cold than what you were used to him being with you. Your eyes took no time in watering, and now Eddie was ready to throw himself off a cliff for making you feel this way. He really fucked this up already, as he always does. Good job, Munson.

“She said that…you basically slept around. That you take them here on dates, and..and take them to that nasty bathroom for a quick fuck. Eddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have believed something like that. I just, I got scared to have my feelings and emotions played with. I didn’t want to be just another girl added to your roster.” You try to keep your composure as you talk to him, your eyes are for sure still watery, but by some miracle, you didn’t stutter. “If I’m being honest, I don’t have much experience with this. Like, yeah. I’ve done a few dates and all, but I've never had a boyfriend or had anyone touch me, or-”

“Sweetheart, it's ok.” Eddie takes a step forward and grabs both your shaky hands, holding them in his, practically engulfing them. “Look at me.” His voice is low, and he places a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “I promise you, I am not that type of person. People will say a million things about me, and I can guarantee that most of them are just rumors. I certainly do not sleep around. I can't remember the last time I had a legitimate date with someone, let alone fuck someone.” He risked making himself look a loser just to make you feel better. His hand goes up to your cheek, and caresses it, letting out a chuckle. “Baby, there's no one I desire more than you…and I want to kiss you so bad.” He whispers, taking another step forward, his scent invading you. “Give me a chance to prove to you..I'm not like whatever these stupid fucks said about me.” His lips are impossibly close to yours, making your breath hitch at the close proximity. “Kiss me.” His voice is raspy. You embrace each other, your lips pressing together as the kiss deepens slowly. It was the first time you've experienced a true, deep kiss. You were sure he could tell. You opened your mouth, letting his hot tongue in to glide along yours and the quiet whine you let out makes him want to take you right there and then. You were inexperienced, yes, but quickly learned to breathe through your nose and move your mouth with his. Eddie's hand rested on your hips, and the other was around the nape of your neck, pulling you against him even closer, wanting to hear those whines again.

“Alright, get a room, you two.” Gareth groaned, hauling the large amp into the van that was a few feet away from you both. You blush heavily as you both simultaneously pull away from each other. “We will continue this at your place? I got to finish helping the guys..” Eddie breathed heavy, a similar rosy shade painted over his cheeks.

“Yes, I'll leave my door unlocked. You can just come in..”

“Hm, sweetheart. I don't think that's a good idea. What if the big, bad wolf gets in? And wants to eat yah?” Eddie smirks.

“I certainly count on it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fandom #fluff #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #some steve and Robin #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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mydearzero · 2 months ago

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The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader | Chapter 2 - Keep Him Happy

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter.

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, no warnings apply for this chapter.

A/N: Wow chapter 2 only one day later? Crazy! I already promise that's not a rate I'll keep up, lmao.

Read it on AO3 Chapter 1

1.5K words

So, Bob was not, in fact, a child. He was a grown man who seemed perfectly capable of taking care of himself. His face was somewhat youthful, so you weren’t sure exactly how old he was, but you’d wager it was older than you.

“Why is it exactly that you need a babysitter?” You asked directly. No use beating around the bush. You ignored the whole flashback memory thing, guessing you’d be enlightened with the details when the rest of the team came back. It wasn’t exactly a fond experience.

“Well, I wouldn’t say babysitter… It’s just, uh… best to not leave me to my own devices, I guess,” he shrugged. You nodded awkwardly, not sure what to make of the situation. The promised pay was good, you wouldn’t actually have to take care of him, just keep him company. It didn’t seem like a bad deal.

But even then, he was obviously unstable. Maybe what he needed was a mental health professional, not a ‘babysitter.’ You were probably just a temporary solution.

You sat in an awkward silence for a while, sipping your drink every now and then trying to think of a lighthearted topic to entertain him with. “So… Tell me about yourself, Bob.”

“Well, I’m… Bob. Short for, uh, Robert, as you might’ve guessed,” Bob nodded. You sighed inwardly, this was going to be tougher than you expected. Children were usually a lot easier, willing to tell you all of their and their parent’s business. Cats were even better, no need for talking. Bob was going to take some work.

“How’d you end up here, with these people, I mean?” You wondered. He seemed normal enough, but obviously the ‘New Avengers’ cared about him enough to try and keep him out of harm's way and around their building.

“It’s kind of a funny story, really. One second I’m in Malaysia in some lab for a medical study, the next I wake up in this bunker with these guys trying to kill each other…”

You squint your eyes in question. “That is… Funny?”

“Yeah now that I’m putting it like that it doesn’t sound very funny, does it?” Bob chuckled. It seemingly broke some of the tension. He asked you a few questions about yourself and your contact with Alexei.

“He seems very sweet,” you concluded. Bob agreed, letting you know the man definitely had his heart in the right place, though sometimes a bit overenthusiastic.

He told you about the rest of the team, and you noticed he was inconspicuously perceptive. He went one by one, wasting time by talking about the people surrounding him most days.

“Yelena looks really tough, and she is! But she’s really a big softie,” Bob spoke of her very fondly, a twinkle of adoration in his eyes.

“Ava’s a bit of a tough nut to crack, but she has a really good sense of humour. She’s a bit more reserved, but really has your back when you need her. She’ll deny it, though.”

You poured yourself another glass of soda, offering Bob one as well. He declined but thanked you for the offer to a degree which dazed you. You took a mental note of the skittish demeanour.

“John’s an asshole. Can’t really put it anyway else. He’s here, he’ll show up for the others, but… I can’t really say I’ve come to like him like the others. I’d put it as toloration. I mean he has a history… But who doesn’t? Doesn’t give him the right to be a douche, you know?” He obviously had a strong sense of righteousness, and John did not fit into that picture.

“And lastly there’s Bucky, but I’m sure you know about him. Congressman and such. He’s not around here much. He tries to be, but I feel like he’s still a bit wary of the team. Part of me thinks he just doesn’t want to get attached, which I can understand, given his past…” Bob looked out the window, seemingly lost in a deep thought. His eyes glazed over and an overwhelming sadness overtook his face. It’d gotten dark in the time you’d been here, the city skyline lit up with artificial lighting.

“Whatever you do, try to keep him happy, distracted and away from danger.” Yelena’s words echoed in your head. There was likely a good reason for the particular instructions.

“Well, Bob, thank you for opening up and telling me about them. I feel like we’re likely gonna be spending some more time together, so I really appreciate that you feel safe enough to share,” you smiled, distracting him from his spiralling thoughts.

Bob smiled before looking a little confused at his own actions. You felt like he might’ve maybe shared a little more than he’d intended.

You were racking your brain for another topic to talk about when the elevator doors opened once again. Bob deflated, hunching in on himself and making himself visibly smaller. You hadn’t even noticed how his posture had opened up during your conversation.

It was Yelena and Alexei, joking with each other in, was that Russian? They walked in as if they hadn’t just fought off whatever it was that had ransacked the subway and blasted itself into the building. You looked at them expectantly, waiting to finally get an explanation.

“Ah, right, babysitter. It’s quite late, maybe you should head home?” Yelena suggested, cracking her neck while unloading a few weapons on a side table like she was dropping off her keys after coming home from the office.

“Was this just a one time thing, or will I be coming back?” You wondered. You could use the money.

“That depends… Bob? Do you like her?”

Bob spluttered and gaped at Yelena, unsure of how to answer. “I– I mean, yeah, she’s– She’s nice. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“We can find different babysitter if you want. Many more on the app,” Alexei chimed in as he huffed and puffed, trying to get his suit off in the middle of the living room. It looked more like he was doing a form of experimental yoga.

“No, no. This one’s fine,” Bob winced. You’d really have to come up with a different title than ‘babysitter’ if this was going to become a lasting thing.

“Good, then she stays. Ava and John are debriefing Bucky. It was just some lowlife with some experimental tech, but man, whatever he was shooting with stung like a b–”

“Lena, language, we have guest,” Alexei shushed her. Yelena rolled her eyes in response.

She nodded her head at you, motioning for you to come with her. You shot Bob a quick glance, who gave you a tight lipped smile but seemingly encouraged you to go with her.

Yelena took you to a smaller separate sitting room and offered you a glass of whiskey, which you refused. “No drinking on the job,” you laughed.

“So, you’re probably wondering, why does a grown man need a babysitter? Well, I’m gonna explain. But first, what did Bob tell you?” she started, sitting down next to you and leaning on the back of the couch, resting her head in her hand. You mimicked her relaxed posture, putting a leg up on the couch.

“Not much, really. He told me a bit about you guys and how you met. He mentioned something about a medical study in Malaysia, but other than that nothing too memorable.”

“Did you happen to shake his hand?” Ah, there it was. Yelena could tell by your expression the answer was yes.

“Yeah, it happened to us, too. You see, Bob… He’s very strong. Stronger than all of us combined. But he’s not stable. He’s a bit of a grey area in the team. We keep him around because he’s nice, of course, but also because we can’t risk anybody else trying to get on his good side and abusing his trust.” She took a sip of the whiskey, relishing its taste before continuing.

“We’re still not really sure what his powers are, and it’s also not up to me to disclose all of the information besides the basics. All I can tell you is that we can’t risk taking him into the field, but we also can’t risk leaving him alone for too long. His abilities are closely tied to his mental wellbeing. It sounds a little degrading to describe it this way,” Yelena winced. She evidently had very conflicting feelings on the topic. You understood it must be difficult, wanting to keep him out of harm’s way without babying him.

“But it’s really a matter of keeping him happy and distracted when it’s necessary. He needs help, a lot of it, but we just haven’t had the time to figure out how to go about it. So for now, this is it. I’m sorry for all the confusion, but with a ‘job’ as unpredictable as ours, this is the reality. Can you handle that?” Her gaze was piercing, as if she was trying to read every single thought crossing your mind.

“You care about him deeply,” you observed.

She gave a fond smile. “I do.”

“Then I think I can handle it. As long as I don’t have to lie to him or beat around the bush, I can do my best to keep him company and help wherever I can. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all we ask.”

It was settled, then. You were hired.

Chapter 3

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki

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m1ckeyb3rry · 1 month ago

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LEVIATHAN I: ECHOES IN A SHALLOW BAY

Series Synopsis: The sea spits you out at Phainon’s feet and tells him to save you. You wonder if he will ever regret that he falls to his knees and obliges.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Phainon x F!Reader, Mydei x F!Reader

Chapter Word Count: 9.9k

Content Warnings: it’s me again writing for amphoreus baddies despite being like an eighth of the way through 3.0 AT THE MOST, fantasy au (amphoreus?? i hardly KNOW us), i make up lore + magic because i can, i world build also because i can, random luocha relevance fsr, amnesia trope, love triangle (we are not getting both at the same damn time i fear), violence and blood and whatnot most likely, screwy timeline bullshit, screwy spatial bullshit (this makes no sense but it will), an ending i personally would not consider angsty but some might, don’t ask me who’s endgame i oscillate sm it’ll probably just be left vague, wherever you think this is going it definitely isn't, slapping that ooc warning on here because who even am i without her (it's really bad this time though SLDKHF sorry)…

A/N: guys i thought i knew fear posting part one of threefold but no THIS is fear LMAOAOA i'm subjecting you all to my slop T_T...i don't love this by any means in fact i on the whole despise it but whatever sometimes you just gotta post anyways #enjoy farmer phainon 😭 I WILL LOCK IN FOR LATER PARTS I PROMISE

Sand slipped between your fingers as you scrabbled for purchase, dragging yourself out of the vicious currents which clawed at your legs, wailing and trying to pull you back to where your certain death awaited. Your side screamed in protest, and with a low groan, you pressed one hand to the weeping wound in an attempt to silence it, your stomach roiling from the sticky sensation of blood gathering at the site of the frayed, greening flesh.

With only one arm left free, you continued to pull yourself up the shore, but you made it a scant few paces before your trembling wrist gave out entirely, leaving you to collapse, your cheek pressed to the rough, crumbling bits of shell that littered the coast. The tide licked at your ankles victoriously, and you were dimly aware of tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as they fluttered shut and the great song of your doom filled your ears, echoing somewhere deep in your bones like an army’s march.

Each pump of your heart was fainter than the last until your pulse all but crawled to a stop, and although the roar of the beast was in a foreign and guttural tongue, you understood what it was saying anyways: end. Your end was here, and there would be no one to witness this demise, no one to cradle your body and decorate it with anemones so that you were suitably beautiful for your journey to the underworld.

“Hey!”

You wanted to tell the man that he should leave you to die, that there was no need for him to run when there was nothing he could do to change this outcome, but his voice was so sweet and dear that you could not stop the burst of inspiration which compelled you to push yourself up and watch him as he sprinted barefoot across the beach towards you, his alarm palpable even from such a distance.

“Who are you?” he said as he knelt by your side, shielding you from the sun and the sea alike. The clamor surrounding you quieted when met with the heaviness of his vast, boundless irises, and as the rest of the world darkened into nothing, everything you had ever known dissipating as readily as mist in the morning, you focused only on the skies contained in his worried gaze.

“How beautiful you are,” you said, and then you were coughing and he was gasping and you were saying words that you were sure did not belong to you but to someone else, someone many years older and some measures wiser. “Forgive me…I have kept you waiting for so long…”

“No, no, please don’t die, please don’t — who are you? What happened to you?” he said insistently, taking your face in his large, warm hands. Your eyelids drooped as he shook you, and you did not feel as frightened anymore, your dread fleeing in the consolation of his panicked embrace.

The last thing you felt was the weight of his palms upon your heart and the heat of his mouth against your own as he begged you to come back, to answer his many questions and stay with him in the realm of the living. Perhaps you might’ve, but you succumbed to the bleakness of finality and were met with a blissful emptiness not too dissimilar to sleep before you could attempt to; then, it was all you could do to lie there and think to yourself how wonderful it would be if you spent the rest of your existence exactly like this, freed from trials and tribulations and terrors alike…

You awoke with a sharp inhale, half-expecting to be met with the biting sting of sand on your skin — yet to your surprise, you were in a bed, feather-stuffed pillows propped behind your neck and a pale blue quilt tucked neatly around your shoulders. Furrowing your brow, you stared at the white ceiling for a moment, and then you sat up, casting aside the pillows and quilt in a flurry of activity, swinging your legs over the mattress and planting your feet on the wooden floor.

Only a second later, your knees buckled and you found yourself in a heap on the woven rug, the flowery patterns dyed into the wool mocking you with their cheery brightness. You lay there for a while, finding no merit in attempting anything but motionlessness, and then slowly you extended your arm, tracing the bleeding edges of the red petals that were now at your eye level.

Dimly you grew aware of a thudding that was becoming progressively louder, and the thought crossed your mind that you should perhaps be worried, but whoever was approaching had not hurt you while you had slept, so you felt that it was fair for you to ignore it. Anyways, what would you do even if they did mean you harm? There was no sense in caring, so you remained sprawled on your side, stroking along the carpet and wishing the stems of the flowers might manifest into reality so that you could braid them together into thin, spidery plaits.

The door banged open, and you gave the entrant the grace of lifting your chin, as much out of your own curiosity as in polite acknowledgement. He did not notice you at first, his shoulders tense as he scanned the room, and when he realized the bed was empty, something like a scowl formed on his kind, lovely face — though it was not anger but despair that drove it, or at least that was how it seemed to your untrained eye.

“Oh, you’re awake!” he said, his eyes widening and a slight smile replacing his frown when he finally noticed you peering up at him. “Though, why are you on the floor? Never mind, I suppose it doesn’t really matter now that you’re there. You really are proving to be a lot more troublesome to take care of than a lamb, you know that?"

In a swift movement, he hooked one hand under your knees and cradled your neck in the bend of his other elbow, lifting you with a surprising ease and then depositing you back on the bed. It might have been impressive to some, but now that he had drawn the comparison, all you could think of was that he did not view you with anything more than the dutiful responsibility of a hound to its flock.

“I was just about to come and change your wound’s dressings, so it’s good timing, anyways,” he said, reaching for your waist before pausing, an odd, delicate pink shade blooming at the tips of his ears. “Ah, I’m sorry. You were asleep, so I never asked permission…”

“Whatever for?” you said. Your voice came out scratchy and burnt, remnants of something acrid sticking to the back of your throat, and you coughed to clear it, prompting another frown from him. Shaking his head, he sighed and tugged at the hem of your shirt, which hung off of you so awkwardly that it must’ve been his and not yours at all.

“I have to lift it a bit,” he said. “Not — not immodestly or anything, I swear! I had the neighbor’s daughter come to bathe you and change you out of that torn dress you washed up in, but your wound is so deep that it requires attention more frequently than I can justify calling her for, and I have some experience, you know, with the puppies and the foals and whatnot, so I’ve just been doing it myself…”

“Is that what you’re fretting over?” you said in amazement. “Why, I should not complain. You may think of me as a lamb or a puppy or a foal, if it eases your mind, but all you have done has been in the effort of saving me, I am sure, so whether you consider me a woman or a beast, I do not think there is any need for guilt regardless."

“If you’re sure,” he said, the shirt bunching around your ribcage when he pushed it up and leaned closer to the covered wound, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he peeled away the white gauze from your skin, bit by excruciating bit.

“So — so you must be fond of animals, then?” you said, biting back a hiss as the cool air dug into where tendrils of infection laced along your exposed, gouged-away skin. “No, do not apologize; please tell me of them, so that I may be duly distracted.”

“Yes, there’s not much else to be fond of around here,” he said. “Here being Aedes Elysiae, if you didn’t know; we are terribly isolated from anything of note, and the sheep outnumber the people by far, so what choice do I have? It’s a dull, sleepy place, this village, but no one ever leaves it, perhaps because there is a certain charm to a home and a livelihood so secluded from the mess and bustle of the capital.”

As he spoke, he patted down the packing in your wound, wiping away the excess blood spilling over the sides with a tenderness that belied the clinical nature of the task. Of course it still ached, but you were quite sure that if it were anyone but him, it would’ve been ten times worse, so in thanks you stayed as still as possible and allowed him to work without complaint.

“My name is Phainon,” he continued. “I’m only a shepherd, to be honest with you, so all of this is a bit strange to me — I’m not really the kind of person that this sort of thing happens to, if you understand what I’m saying. I was just chasing after a stray ewe that day, but then my dog got to barking and led me straight to you.”

“I don’t remember a dog,” you said. “Though I don’t remember much of anything, so I suppose that’s a bit meaningless. ”

“He didn’t want to go near the sea. It’s odd, because he’s normally so fond of swimming, but that day all he could do was whine and paw at the sand like he was waiting for me to do something,” Phainon said, winding a pristine roll of bandages around your torso methodically, with the mindlessness typical of accustomization to an everyday task. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“No,” you said. “When I try to think of my past, I come up with nothing. Nothing, that is, but you.”

He pursed his lips, and then his fingers brushed over your navel, tying the strips of dressing together in a cross. You didn’t know if it was intentional or an unconscious, fidgeting habit; you thought it must’ve been the latter, given that he did not dissolve into a fit of apologies for daring to touch you, but then again you did not know him well enough to say for certain. Either way, it was so quick that you did not mind and would not have mentioned it even if you did; then he was adjusting your shirt and stepping away, clasping his hands together like he was gathering his thoughts.

“It hasn’t healed any,” he said. “I was hoping that when you woke up you would be able to tell me where you’re from, or at least what happened for you to end up in such a manner. I might be able to treat you better if that’s the case, but as it is, I’m at a bit of a loss.”

“My apologies,” you said, bowing your head. “I owe you my very life, and yet the only repayment I can afford you is further distress.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t thinking of repayment when I found you. I wasn’t thinking much at all, really, just that you were there and you were dead, or soon would be, and I couldn’t accept it.”

“You couldn’t accept it,” you repeated. “Why, because you’re the one who found me? Do you feel some measure of duty to me for it?”

“It’s not just that,” he said. “I don’t know. I can hardly explain it to myself, let alone someone else…but I thought I would have to stay and breathe for you until the tide grew low and the crabs came to mock me, and strangely enough, I would’ve done it. If that was what was necessary, I would’ve.”

You narrowed your eyes, scrutinizing the man who had played as your heart and your lungs until such a time that you could do so on your own. He was a striking figure, albeit unassuming at first glance, his taste in ornament and dress detracting somewhat from the imposing nature of his presence. Taller and broader than any shepherd had the right to be, his eyes were shimmering and clever, his hair carelessly mussed and pale as the moon, the silvery strands framing his appealing face in such a fine way that you almost could not believe he was real, that he was not some empyrean figment of your imagination.

“I see,” you said finally. “Whatever your reasoning might be, I’m indebted to you.”

“Oh, um…anyways, now that you’re awake, I guess the only thing to do is to take you to the village proper, where we can see an actual healer,” he said, wrinkling his nose, clearly unused to praise being lavished upon him, especially such a great, generous amount. “I was too frightened to jostle you about so much while you were unconscious, but I don’t know that we have much of a choice anymore. I’ve been treating your wound as one would treat an abscessed hoof, but this may be a few orders of magnitude more serious.”

Unbidden, your knuckles pressed into your aching ribs, and with a wince, you chuckled. Phainon’s face fell, his eyebrows drawing together and the corners of his lips curving downwards, and this for some reason prompted a sinking sort of disappointment in you.

“It may be,” you said. “But I am sure that with proper medicine, it will heal and be as if it never happened.”

Both of you knew you were being unnecessarily and unrealistically optimistic, but he did not say anything to correct you, only nodding, perhaps needing the reassurance as much or more than you did. After all, wouldn’t it be worse to know that despite everything he had done, you had still died? Wouldn’t it hurt more now that he had brought you into his home than it would’ve if he had simply left you on that beach, rotting amongst the stinking seaweed?

With the help of your grip on Phainon’s proffered forearm, you managed to stumble down the stairs to his kitchen, though it was an exhausting endeavor, and you would’ve fallen several times over if it weren’t for him. You knew from the set of his mouth that he didn’t approve of your attempts at independence, but he was not the sort to argue, nor the type to gloat when you settled in a chair at his small table with a sigh.

“I don’t have much,” he said as he opened and closed the doors of his cabinets, pulling out various preserves in glass jars, weighing them in his hands before putting half back. “It won’t be anywhere near as nice as you’re used to, I’ll bet.”

“I’m not ‘used to’ anything,” you reminded him, craning your neck so you could watch him as he crouched, muttering something about needing to go to the market again soon.

“Ah,” he said, turning and blinking at you nigh-owlishly, his lashes surprisingly dark as he batted them at you. “Right. Sorry, it’s just that you’re so proper and beautiful and — I mean, not beautiful! Wait. Yes, you are beautiful, but that’s not why — I just — ugh, my mother always told me I was well-practiced at shoving my foot in my mouth, but until now I didn’t understand what she meant by that. Here, I hope this is acceptable.”

He slid a plate of something or another over to you, and then he turned on his heel and busied himself with tidying the already-spotless counters. You admired him as he wiped over the grainy wood, in the meanwhile cutting your food into pieces with the fork and knife he had given you, taking the smallest bite and then humming in approval.

“It is more than acceptable,” you said. “However, need I remind you I’m in no position to complain either way? I would eat even if you only gave me pig slop.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” he said, dropping his rag and brandishing his index finger at you. “Do you really think — you’re joking.”

“Yes,” you said, laughing despite how it hurt, thinking that there might be some remedy to be found in this version of pain. “I am only joking.”

“I can’t quite understand you,” he said. “You speak like one of those Helikan tax collectors, but you have the sensibilities of any ordinary girl.”

“Is ‘Helikan tax collector’ the worst insult you can fathom? I am duly offended, though you really ought to improve your creativity for the future,” you said.

“You’re joking again,” he said flatly, and you could not even deny it, your continued laughter betraying you. “I’m not trying to insult you, I’m simply telling the truth. It’s an honor if anything; being associated with Helike is high praise here.”

“Why is that?” you said. He handed you a mug filled to the brim with a warm drink that had a sweet, unfamiliar aroma wafting off of it, and then he sat across from you with his chin in his hands.

“It’s the capital of the region,” he said. “The most powerful city on the coast. Aedes Elysiae and the other villages like us are technically part of the Helikan state, though for the most part they leave us to our own devices, as long as we pay our taxes and don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Do they lend you protection in exchange?” you said.

“They’re supposed to,” he said. “But the city itself is much too far, and we are of much too little consequence for them to care, especially since that Lord of Swines took over and let the countryside fall to chaos.”

“What sort of a place is this, to be ruled with such a loose fist, and by a man called the Lord of Swines, no less?” you said incredulously. “Have I found myself in some strange fiction? I can’t quite believe it.”

“He’s not actually called the Lord of Swines,” Phainon said, clicking his tongue impatiently. “And officially, he’s not the ruler of anything but his temple. Helikan politics are a bit of a complex situation, but you shouldn’t pay any mind to them. Focus on getting well and remembering where your actual home is. I’m sure there are people who are missing you.”

“Right,” you said. “If I have a mother and father, they must be worried…or siblings, if I am so privileged as to have a brother or sister or both, then maybe they are searching for me…and friends, surely I have friends, right? Do you believe they think of me in my absence?”

“Of course they do,” he said. “They will be overjoyed when you return, I’m sure of it.”

“It is such a difficult and delicate thing, to mourn a life and love I do not know,” you said, chewing contemplatively in the ensuing silence, continuing only after you had swallowed. “I am sad for what I have lost, but I am more sad for those who have lost me. My suffering is only bodily and can be treated, or at least alleviated, but what recourse do they have?”

It was a rhetorical question, and thus he did not try to answer it, but you could tell by the softening of his eyes that he pitied you. Perhaps you should’ve found it condescending or infuriating, but it was only heartening to think that he understood, that he, too, shared your sorrow, or at least held sympathy for it; so, reaching out, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and held his hand against your eyes, smothering your tears before they could come.

Outside of Phainon’s small home stretched endless fields of grass, green and gold in turn, sheep dotting the landscape like small, fleecy clouds. A tan hound lounged by the dirt path, a pink tongue lolling out of his black muzzle, and when he noticed you had come out, he beat his tail against the ground, sending up plumes of dust into the air. You smiled as you passed him, remembering that Phainon had mentioned it had been his dog who had led him to you and wondering if this was the very one who had done it.

“He’s been moping about ever since I brought you home,” Phainon said, as if he could read your mind. The dog got up with a deep exhale, trotting along behind you with his tail still wagging, though he broke off eventually to chase after a pair of wayward rams. “You may think it fanciful, but I do believe he was worried.”

“How helpless it is, to be a dog in a world meant for people,” you said. You meant it as a rumination, an earnest contemplation on the nature of these things, but Phainon only snorted, tightening his grip around your shoulders as you rounded the corner of a stone barn and came up to a white-fenced pasture where a pair of horses grazed.

“You’re funny,” he said. “Maybe you used to be a court jester.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, furrowing your brow. You had no frame of reference for it, but the very title felt uncomfortable and wrong, settling on your shoulders like a mismatched cloak. He glanced at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling before he took a halter over the taller horse’s head and led it out of the field behind him.

“Yes, probably not,” he said. “I’ve not met any jesters, but from what Natasha has told me of them, you wouldn’t fit the role.”

“Who’s Natasha?” you said, sitting on a bale of hay and observing him as he bustled about, readying the horse for the trip to the town center.

“She’s the best healer in all of Aedes Elysiae,” he said. “Actually, she’s from the capital, but something happened in her family a few years ago, so she moved out here and has remained in the village ever since. It’s a lucky thing, really — she knows how to treat maladies most of us have never even heard of, and I’m sure she’s saved more lives than I count just because of it.”

“You’re taking me to see her, then,” you said. He nodded.

“If there’s anyone here who can figure out what’s going on with your wound, it’s her,” he said. “Like I told you, I would’ve taken you to her earlier — I should’ve, I know I should’ve — but —”

“You mustn’t upset yourself like this,” you interrupted before he could continue. “You have done the best you could. I do not blame you, so do not blame yourself; how could you have known that it would turn out to be such an abnormal case? Anyways, you may have done the right thing after all. I am still alive, and who knows if that would’ve been the case had you been hasty? Enough with your worrying, for I cannot continue to reassure you in this way. You must be certain that you were correct and understand that even if you weren’t, you cannot undo what has already been done. The only thing left for both of us is to continue onwards with the situation as it is.”

He gawked at you for a moment, like he had not been expecting you to say that, and even you were taken aback, for you, too, were surprised by the gravitas in your voice, the stern, cold nature of it. An awkward silence descended upon you both with a swiftness, and it was only broken when his horse huffed, pawing at the ground in an impatient reminder that he was still tied and half-tacked.

Phainon cleared his throat and busied himself with the buckles of the saddle, clearly embarrassed. “Right, I’ll do that.”

“I am sorry,” you said.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You spoke correctly. There’s nothing that can be changed now. All we can do is go to Natasha and hope it was enough.”

The ride to the village center was not terribly long, or at least you did not think it was, for you spent most of it with your cheek between the bony blades of his shoulders, drifting in and out of sleep, although you had just awoken a few hours earlier. It must’ve been a symptom of the decay festering in your ribcage, for the weariness felt unnatural, forced, a fog over your mind that combined with the lack of your memories to lull you into a blank motionlessness, your failing body weighed down as if by stones shoved in your pockets.

To call Aedes Elysiae a village was generous; it was a cluster of homes wound through with a few cobblestone streets, a small square lined with shops the closest to a center that they had. Wood-painted signs declared each merchant’s wares, but Phainon led you past all of them, ignoring the staring townspeople who whispered as you walked by and halting before a grey-walled house with flowers blooming in the windowsills.

“Here we are,” he said, helping you off of the horse and tying it to a wooden post. You reached out and took one of the blossoms between your fingers while he did so, stroking the velvety petals with a slight frown, though you could not say why they brought such distress, why your stomach dropped as soon as you saw the steadfast blooms. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” you said, startling at the sudden address, the flower falling from your hand and drifting to the ground, where it was promptly crushed under the horse’s hoof. “Yes, yes, I’m alright. I was just surprised.”

“By the flowers?” he said, far more discerning than you would’ve expected from someone who had been kind to the point of near-naivete up until this point. When you nodded hesitantly, he frowned. “I don’t know what kind they are. They don’t grow around here; I think she brought them with her from Helike or something.”

“Anemones,” you said, the name materializing like the ghost of a person you once knew but had long ago lost. “I…they mean something, I think, but I can’t say what. Of course.”

“Do you think that once your injury is cured, you’ll be able to remember everything again?” he said, knocking on the blue door, cocking his head slightly while he waited for a response.

“I would like to believe so,” you said. “But it feels overly hopeful, so I will refrain for now. It’s better not to have expectations at all, right?”

“Maybe,” he said. “But isn’t it also important to have faith? I mean, what else even is there to be had?”

Before you could muster a response, the door swung open, revealing a slender, willowy woman with an oval face and dark hair tied at the nape of her neck, loose tendrils falling in her eyes and white ribbon trailing down her back. When she noticed you and Phainon standing there, she frowned slightly, but it was concerned, not disdainful, and nearly maternal in quality, although she could not have been more than a few years older than either of you.

“Phainon? Who’s this? Is everything alright?” she said, and the calm, steady cadence of her voice was enough to set your heart, which inexplicably had begun to race, at ease. Here was a woman who understood things, who might understand you, despite the sorry fact that you could not yet understand yourself. She ushered you in without even waiting for Phainon to explain, taking over the support of your limp weight as easily and naturally as breathing — which, to a healer, such a task really was so ingrained, you supposed.

“I found her on the beach,” he said, and although she did not require any assistance, he hovered at your side with the worried air of a mothering hen, like he could not bear to relinquish the care of you entirely. “She washed up in a wad of seaweed, bleeding all over the sand from this horrible wound in her side. For a while I was sure she would die in my arms, but then miraculously she began coughing and breathing on her own, without my help, although she did not wake up for some time, and the condition of her wound never improved. Ah, that’s actually why we came to see you, Natasha, if you don’t mind looking…”

“Of course I don’t mind,” she chided him, as if he had been a fool to ask her in the first place. “Just wait outside. I’ll bring her to you when I’m done.”

“Okay,” he said, but it was drawn out and long, like he was hoping by the end of the word she would change her mind. His reluctance was obvious, and with every step he took away from you, your heart squeezed a little tighter, which meant that he was not alone in the feeling — but who were you to argue? She was the one who knew best, and so you had no choice but to follow her directives.

Natasha waited until the door was well and fully closed before she turned to you, clearing her throat and folding her hands in her lap. You had been expecting her to immediately take to inspecting the site of your injury, so you were surprised by the reaction, and even more so by her subsequent scowl.

“Was he telling the truth?” she said.

“Huh?” you said. She nodded towards the window, where, presumably, Phainon stood in anxious wait, unable to do anything of merit but unable to leave, either.

“Phainon,” she said. “Did he really find you under such…altruistic circumstances? I don’t want to believe it of him, he’s always been so good, so wonderful, but neither do I wish to presume. So, I ask you again: is he telling the truth?”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “Are you suggesting that he could be the one who hurt me?”

“In a sense,” she said, the air suddenly growing fraught and thick with tension. “Or, perhaps, that in your current condition, he might have—”

“No!” you said, and it burst out so vehemently that your hand clapped over your mouth immediately afterwards. What cause did you have to defend him so staunchly? You did not know him, not well and not at all, and what Natasha was saying was not baseless. It would not have been difficult for Phainon, not with how you were at present…but you could not fathom it, you rejected it, you knew it wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t have, he could not, you were so sure, and your certainty was frightening, it was frightening and confounding and should not have existed in the first place, least of all in such a great quantity, but it was there nonetheless.

“You’re quite convinced?” she said, and you nodded, because, although you could not remember much, you did recall the day he had found you, for it was in a sense a second birth, the rest of your life a dark blur up until the moment you had opened your eyes to him. Him and the deep punctures in your side, which were blackened around the edges and wept red onto his turmeric-stained tunic; him and the kelp tangling around your throat, which crumbled away as soon as his palm lit upon the firm bone of your chest; him and the brine at the corners of your mouth, which dribbled down your chin as he pinched your nose shut and pressed his lips to yours, breathing life back into a sodden, weary heart that had no choice but to accept the offering.

“I am. He saved my life. I — well, to be fully honest with you, I have found myself without much if anything in the way of memories, but there are some things that exist in the back of my mind in the way some words exist on the tip of one’s tongue, just out of reach but maddeningly close, and this is exactly such a thing. I can’t explain how or why, but I can tell you unflinchingly and calmly that I would be dead if it weren’t for him. Perhaps many times over; perhaps in ways that he himself cannot know; perhaps in a manner that the explanation for does not yet make sense. But I would be dead without him, I assure you. He has saved my life, and I won’t — I won’t hear anything to the contrary!” you said.

“Alright,” she said. “Please do not misunderstand; I am relieved to hear it. I did not want to think of him as anything less than what I do now.”

“And what may that be?” you said, removing your shirt at her indication and raising your arms so that she could begin to undo Phainon’s attempts at bandaging.

“A boy who is meant for more than shepherding cattle,” she said, and the answer was simple, practical, yet the kind that spoke volumes for its abstractness. “Oh, dear girl, what happened to you?”

“He said it hasn’t improved any. He’s been treating it as best as he can, but he did not want to take me into the village until I was awake — you mustn’t tell him he was wrong, even if he was, I think it will crush him — although it is clearly more serious than anything he has ever seen,” you said.

“I’ll say,” she muttered, and then, to your surprise, she only rebandaged the wound exactly how it had been, not even addressing the site with anything more than a sad look. “Put your shirt back on. I’m afraid the prognosis isn’t good, and I think it’d be best if I tell both you and Phainon at once, to save you from having to repeat it. If I know him, I know he’ll take it worse than anyone, perhaps even worse than you yourself, and I wish to spare you this singular torment, for it is within my power to do so.”

Phainon swept in as soon as Natasha opened the door, and he did not even greet her, returning to stand before you, taking your hands between his and searching your expression like he could tell everything he needed to know just from the reflection of it in your irises.

“You should sit,” Natasha said to him.

“I’ll stay standing,” he said. The with her remained hanging in the air, unsaid but known by you all, and to it she could only exhale heavily, like she had expected as much but had wished most fervently for a different response.

“I can’t do anything for her,” she said. “As far as I can tell, the depth of the wound isn’t the main issue, although it’s definitely aggravating it; it’s that it’s poisoned, and that this poison is spreading, which is killing her slowly. But if it really is a poison, then it’s one unlike anything I've ever seen, and I don’t want to use medicine on it for fear of accidentally causing a reaction that’ll exacerbate her suffering further. The kindest thing we can do at this point is give her a comfortable place to live until she finally succumbs.”

“What?” he said. You supposed you should’ve felt equally as indignant as him, but you had been half-expecting from the moment you had awoken that your fate would be something like this, so the only reaction you had was the fleeting thought that even this much was a blessing. At least now you could die somewhere peacefully, happily, buried amongst flowers in those green-gold fields that Phainon and his dog watched over, defended with the same zeal that they defended their flock, instead of left to be pecked at by carrion-birds on the unforgiving shore of the stony beach. “How am I supposed to just accept that? How am I supposed to just — just — just watch her die, like she’s some ailing cow bound for slaughter? She’s a person, not livestock, doesn’t she deserve more than that?”

“There is one other option,” Natasha said, silencing Phainon’s tirade as quickly as it had begun.

“Why didn’t you start with that?” he said in exasperation. “Well? What is it?”

“You won’t like it, and it’s not a guarantee. The answer may not be any different, and you’ll have put both of yourselves through undue stress for nothing if that’s the case,” she warned. He rolled his eyes, and although he had dropped your hands about halfway through his rant, clearly overcome, he now brought his right to rest protectively on your shoulder, like he could tether you to the world, to him, with just that one point of contact.

“I don’t care about whether I’ll like it or not. Just get on with it,” he said.

“Take her to the capital,” she said. “Bring her to my former master, Luocha, who is perhaps the most learned medic in the world. Surely he will be able to better diagnose her malady.”

“You don’t mean Helike, do you?” he said.

“I can’t recommend it,” Natasha said. “The journey will be riddled with difficulties. The road is not safe on the best of days, and as for that wound…no mere accident could’ve caused it. Do you know what that means? Someone or something is, or at some point was, trying to kill her. You may be safe for now, if they believe they were successful, but what do you think will happen when they realize she lives? They will surely hunt her down, and no matter how talented of a swordsman you are, Phainon — and you are, I acknowledge that much — you can’t defend both yourself and a woman on the brink of death from a being that is hellbent on her end.”

“It’s her choice,” he said finally. “No one else’s.”

“Yes,” Natasha said, and then she turned to you. “It is. How about it, then? Knowing everything, what do you say?”

“Phainon,” you said instead of answering her immediately. “Will you stay with me?”

It was suddenly imperative that he answered that. For the first time but not the last, you wondered if you had met him before, to trust him so intrinsically, to need him so instinctually. What other explanation was there? Logically you knew it was not so, or else he would have recognized you, but you could not help it, could not help that nagging sense of familiarity, could not help that whining desire to be nearer and nearer to him.

“Until the very last,” he said, so solemn, so grave. “All of the way until Helike, if that’s what you ask.”

“Then I will go,” you said. “Even if it is not guaranteed, I want to live a little longer. Even if it is more painful, I don’t want to accept my death without first trying as hard as I can to fight it.”

Natasha clearly did not approve, but she did not seem particularly shocked, either, her lips pressing into a thin line as she nodded slowly, sadly, before standing and telling you she would return in a few moments if you did not mind waiting, please. So you and Phainon stayed in that empty room, and for a while neither of you spoke, lost in your own musings, until finally you gathered the strength to ask him the question that was newly weighing on your mind.

“Did I know you before?” you said.

“What?” he said, blinking rapidly, like he was waking up from some long dream, shaking his head and giving you a polite, confused smile. “No, I’m quite sure you didn’t. I’d remember you if we had ever met.”

“How can it be? You say I am a stranger, but who does this much for a stranger? And if I truly did not know you, then why…” you trailed off, because in face of the befuddled furrow of his brow, you did not dare complete your thought: why is it that I feel so much for you? Why is it that I have, in the span of hours, found myself so enthralled? If you are a stranger, then does that make me a fool? I cannot be so weak. I cannot be so hapless. My body has failed me and my mind has failed me, my heart cannot as well. It cannot, and so you cannot.

“I can’t answer that,” he said, and he sounded so contrite you regretted even bringing it up in the first place. “Of course, I wish I knew you. I wish you weren’t a stranger, so that I could fill in the gaps of your memories, so that I could tell you about the entire life you had led up until the point you lost it. I would remember each detail, you know, and I wouldn’t withhold even the most mundane of them — I’d tell you about every single breakfast you ever ate with me, which jams were your favorite and which you turned your nose up at, the flowers you loved and those which distressed you, whether you preferred to play with the sheep or the ponies or the dogs — you would find me tiresome and boring to listen to, I think! But anyways, you are not the type of person who would be found doing such unimportant, silly things, so it’s irrelevant. Can you really believe yourself to be from Aedes Elysiae? We both know you aren’t, which means that you really must be a stranger to me, who has never left this place.”

“If only I were,” you said. “Girls from Aedes Elysiae are not poisoned and hunted and drowned very often, are they?”

“No,” he said. “They have their own problems, but those are not amongst the most common. Whoever did this to you, they are a special kind of monster, the sort that most people are lucky enough to never encounter in their lives. We only have to worry about wolves and ordinary bandits in these mountains.”

“Natasha didn’t seem to think so,” you said.

“Well, the road to Helike is dangerous,” he acquiesced. “And the city itself is a separate entity altogether. Who knows if we’ll even manage an audience with Luocha? He is a busy man, and not the generous sort, who might hear our urgency and make an exception. She’s right to be against us going.”

“But you think it’s a good idea,” you said. “You didn’t say as much, but I could sense it.”

“I hope I didn’t sway your decision,” he said. “You’re right, though. I do think it’s worth it. If we stay here, then your death is assured, and I will always regret that I did not do the best I could to prevent it.”

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking,” you said. “Don’t worry. I arrived at the conclusion of my own volition; if I am to die, I do not want to just lay down and accept it. It would drive me mad to spend my days with that anticipation, especially knowing that there was something I could be doing in the meantime. I could not manage such an arduous journey alone, but if I can have you with me, then I will go to Helike and demand that this Luocha sees me.”

“I already told you I would go,” he said. “I’ll deliver you to the capital, and until we can find out who you truly are, I will remain by your side and fulfill the role of every person it occurs to you to miss.”

“What if he cannot do anything for me?” you said, giving voice to that which had been quivering between you, massless and amorphous until you forcibly acknowledged it, affording it credence and shape. “Then you will have to lay me to rest in Helike. I will be an unnamed body amongst the many others who die everyday in such a large place, another unmarked grave amongst a sea of the like. It sounds so sad and lonely, I don’t — I don’t think I want that—”

“You can’t think such things. Focus on getting better,” he said.

“But I must consider every outcome carefully. There’s a chance that this entire matter will end in such a way, after all, and not a small one, either,” you said. “Can you do me a favor? Please, if it comes to it, ask them to burn me, and then take what’s left to the most beautiful place you can imagine. I know that’s a lot to ask of you, given that we have only met so recently, but I have no one else…”

“I meant when I said I will be everything to you,” he said. “If that’s what you really want, then it’ll be done — but it won’t come to it in the first place. You will live, I promise. Those in the capital will know how to fix you.”

After that, he placed his hand on the top of your head, which was more than you needed but less than you wanted, and there you stayed, yourself on the bed and Phainon standing between you and the rest of the room, until Natasha returned with a few more sets of bandages and a bundle of clothes and a letter for Luocha, as well as a final warning to be careful before she sent you on your way.

Instead of returning directly home, you went to Phainon’s neighbor’s house, for if he were to accompany you to Helike, there were affairs that required settling. The animals he tended would still require feeding and watering and looking after, and he told you in a fond, level voice that there was no one he could entrust with the task better than the neighbor’s daughter, who was some years younger than you but possessed, in his words, the sort of determination that lent her far more reliability than mere experience might.

She was a vivacious girl, answering on the first knock and beaming when she saw you, the crescent moon of her grin splitting her freckled face nearly in two. Shoving aside Phainon, she threw her arms around you, and although you were taken aback by the affection, you were also warmed by it, by what she must have intended only as politeness but which came across to you as an offer of sincere friendship.

“You’re awake!” she said by way of greeting, and in the back of your mind, you vaguely recalled Phainon telling you he had called upon her to strip and bathe you of the filth of the beach. Maybe you might’ve squirmed, but she was the sort of person that was so guileless it seemed impossible to be uncomfortable around her, for she really was as wide-eyed and harmless as the lamb toddling around her feet. “You look much better now.”

“Do I?” you said dubiously. “I’m told I don’t.”

“This one,” she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper as she motioned towards Phainon. “Would you believe he’s the hero of the village? He’s such a bumbling clown when you meet him that it’s easy to forget.”

“Don’t fill her head with silly stories,” Phainon said, but his cheeks were pink, and it was obvious he was trying very hard not to boast about what he may have done to attain the designation of hero. “Where is your father? I need to ask him for a favor.”

“I think he’s out collecting eggs with my mother,” she said. He stared at her expectantly, but she only jut her chin out and stared back with her hands on her hips, her foot tapping impatiently against the tiled floor.

“Can you go fetch him?” he said finally, slowly, like he was talking to an impertinent little child.

“You know where he is, and you always tell me you’ll do it when you come, so go on, then! What’s different this time?” she said, and you coughed to disguise your snicker at the glitter of her eyes darting between the two of you. Phainon frowned, opening his mouth to argue before clamping it shut and mumbling something under his breath, ducking past you both, ostensibly in search of her father. As soon as the door swung shut behind him, she sobered, her grin dropping as quickly as it had come. “You know, you’re lucky he’s the one who found you.”

“Hm?” you said.

“Like I said, he plays the part of the bumbling clown all too well, but that couldn’t be further from the truth of who he really is,” she said. “Phainon’s different from the rest of us. It’s as plain as day; my parents talk about it sometimes, I’ve heard them, so it’s not just me saying that, mind you! Just a few years ago, when I still went to the village for my lessons, there was an attack by a group of bandits. They were intent on holding Aedes Elysiae hostage until delegates from Helike could arrive, after which they planned to use our lives as the bargaining chip for what I can only assume would have been large sums of money.”

“How frightening,” you said, and you meant it entirely. “It’s abhorrent to think that they would attack such a defenseless place."

“It was frightening,” she agreed. “I was walking home already, as my teacher had suddenly grown ill and dismissed me early that day, so I escaped their notice, hiding in the trees as they corralled the townspeople in the square. When I judged them to be well and fully distracted, I began to run, and I did not stop running until I was banging on the door to Phainon’s home.

“He answered almost immediately, and he did not joke as he usually does. He knew as soon as he looked at me that something horrible was happening — I’m not particularly good at hiding my emotions, and he has a talent for reading even the best-concealed expressions — and he went with me to the village, and then—”

“And then?” you prompted when she suddenly fell silent.

“And then I told her to stop embarrassing me with these exaggerated accounts of events,” Phainon said. You turned to see him with a wiry man who resembled the girl most greatly, a cross look on his face, which was so at odds with the geniality you had come to expect that it seemed all but comical. “Please don’t take her too seriously. It’s true that there was a bandit attack that I helped fend off, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Now, son, don’t be too humble,” the man, his neighbor, said, giving you an affable nod in greeting. “My daughter isn’t exaggerating that much. Phainon here really did take the guardsman’s sword and slay all the bandits that held weapons in their grips, sparing those who had nothing and bidding them to spread the word that Aedes Elysiae was not to be touched. He is undoubtedly our savior, so it only makes sense that he’s the one who found you — who else would?”

“He’ll protect you well,” his daughter added, her voice a lark’s chirp as she hefted her lamb in her arms, holding it before her like a peace offering, which was promptly denied by a playful scowl on Phainon’s part. “You won’t have to worry about a thing if he’s with you! Like I said, you’re lucky to have him.”

“He tells me you have business in Helike,” Phainon’s neighbor said, and although it was not a secret, necessarily, you found you were still grateful that Phainon had not told him what that business entailed.

“Yes, that’s correct. He has graciously offered to accompany me,” you said. It was a credit to everyone in the room that they did not laugh at the notion of Phainon’s presence being a gift you could have denied. One did not need to look at you more than twice to know you were helpless in the wake of this poison, this half-death, but all three of them allowed you to keep your pride and did not point that out, Phainon’s neighbor even grunting in assent.

“Why, he’s always been the type. If there’s problems, he’ll be the first to try and solve them. I’m not surprised in the slightest,” he said. “But there’ll be trouble if you try to go like this.”

“Trouble?” you said. “Whatever do you speak of? What’s wrong with how I am now?”

“It’s not you, actually,” he said. “The clothes Natasha lent you are Helikan in origin; even if hers do not fit you well, she sent some from her mother that will surely work, so you should have no issue blending in. I’m more worried for Phainon…”

“Me?” Phainon said. “I see no problems with what I’m wearing. This is how I always dress.”

“Right,” his neighbor said, which brought Phainon to turn to you as if for reassurance. You cringed, for you could not come up with anything positive to say about the yellow tunic nor the pants, which were an inexplicable and blinding shade of violet that would not even suit a king in full regalia. In fact, the combination was all but offensive to the eye, the sin of it multiplying by how the swathes of fabric marred his comeliness, the muddy ochre tinting his skin sallow, the looseness of the drape folding over and concealing every line and angle of his body from view.

“Perhaps it is better suited for guarding sheep than visiting the city,” you suggested, attempting to soften the blow as best as you could. “He is right. From what you have told me of the Helikans, should they see us as peasants, then I am doubly sure they will not grant us an audience. If you do not speak, and wear handsomer clothes, then you will easily be believed as someone of import, and although you are not an authority on the matter, you did mistake me for a Helikan earlier, so I think that I can also manage. But where shall we find that sort of attire, such that you are convincing enough to pass through without question?”

“I would have kept silent in the first place if I did not have something,” his neighbor said. “My brother once tried to pass the exam to be one of the guards of the Temple of Cygnus, you see, and he made it far enough to receive a uniform, though he fell in love with a singer before he could actually take the role. He left it here with me, along with the rest of his belongings, before running off to become a traveling musician.”

“The guise of a Temple guard! You think my current dress will draw attention, and that won’t?” Phainon said.

“Well, they have a certain reputation,” his neighbor said. “Even the most fearsome of bandits would not dare incur the wrath of the Temple. It will grant you a safer passage…and anyways, if I am correct in my estimations, then the Temple is your end goal, is it not? It will serve you well there, too.”

“Fine,” he said reluctantly, though only after casting a sidelong glance at you, his lips pursing when he did. “You may be wrong, but if you are right, and if this uniform brings us before Luocha even a moment sooner, then how can I say no?”

Based on how averse Phainon had been to it, you had expected the garb of the Temple guards to be something practical but near to hideous, perhaps even fearsome, grotesque and twisted and hiding his shining visage from the world. Yet when he returned to you, self-consciously adjusting his white shoulder plates, you found you could not have been more wrong, for he was beautiful, so beautiful, awkward and shy though he was, the pearly threads of the long coat and the gold of the fastenings suiting him so well it was as if he had been born to wear them.

“You’re crying!” he said, and it might’ve been humorous, how he all but wilted, if he weren’t also right. “Do I really look that bad?”

For you hadn’t noticed until he had said it, but you really were weeping, and upon the realization, you could only bury your face in your hands in the effort of abating your senseless lamenting, wishing that your eyes would not sting so horribly and your throat would lose its humiliating swelling.

“I knew this wasn’t a good idea,” he said when you did not say anything. “I’ll go and change now, don’t worry—”

You shook your head, wiping at your face as quickly as you could, blotting away your tears despite how they came back twice as strong with every press of your palms against them. You knew he was confused, he must have been, for you were, too, and you hated that most of all, hated that your own actions were a mystery to yourself. But there it was regardless, your heart, your traitorous, jealous heart, which kept the remnants of your many secrets locked away from the rest of you, singing and singing as you clenched your fists to prevent yourself from reaching for him.

“Don’t change,” you said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what overcame me. You just looked so familiar for a moment that I could not help it, but — but no, you don’t look bad, not at all.”

“You are a picture!” his neighbor said, clapping his hands together. “Truly, you suit it much better than my sorry old brother ever did. This must have been what Luocha envisioned when he designed them; I don’t think there’s been a guard more striking than you since the Temple of Cygnus was founded!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Phainon said, nudging his neighbor away as the man tried to reach up and ruffle his hair. “You’re certain it won’t be too much of a burden for you to watch over my home while I’m gone?”

“After all of the help you’ve given us, I would never dream of calling you a burden. Take your time and worry only about your pretty girl here,” his neighbor said, nodding his chin towards you. “We will pray for her health and your safe return the entire time you’re gone.”

“Thank you,” you said, ignoring Phainon as he began to sputter indignantly at what was unmistakably only said to provoke that exact reaction from him. “I appreciate it, and I am eternally grateful for everything that you have done for me. For the rest of my life, however short or long it may be, I will remember you all, who saw a stranger by the sea and found it in your hearts to save her.”

taglist (comment/send an ask to be added): @itseightamineedsleep

#phainon x reader #mydei x reader #phainon x y/n #mydei x y/n #phainon x you #mydei x you #phainon #mydei #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #reader insert #fantasy au #m1ckeyb3rry writes #leviathan

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starmapz · 4 months ago

Note

what are some of your favorite sukuna fics or authors?

hiii nonnie!! i'm super behind on my reading so i'm definitely gonna miss a few here but off the top of my head, here are some faves 🫶 please be sure to check out each author's rules :))

multichap fics:

controller by @yenayaps - modern!kuna x f!reader forbidden office romance, i love the dynamic between the reader and sukuna and the dynamic of the itadori family, they're both so well done and i adore her take on sukuna. i binged this so hard this weekend!! definitely check out her whole sukuna masterlist as well

pour it up by @madamechrissy - strip club owner!kuna x f!stripper!reader, i love sukuna's lowkey obsession with reader and eat up each of these chapters. the smut is so delicious

no. one party anthem by @indiewritesxoxo - childhood fwb!kuna x f!reader and rockstar!geto x f!reader, sukuna is so petty and so emotionally constipated and i love him for that <3 suguru is WAY too hot for his own good and i can't wait to see where indie takes this series!!

an uninformed narrative by @retiredteabag - stardew au!! i never knew i needed this tbh, i'm absolutely in love with adventurer!kuna already, he's so done with reader LOL 😭

mama, i'm in love with a criminal by @cinnamorollcrybaby - suuuuch an interesting series of snapshots of criminal!kuna and his relationship with reader, i adore the deep dive into his psyche and the ending!! oooh it's so good ((this also fits the jail!kuna ask i got last night))

jealousy, jealousy by @cinnamorollcrybaby - best friends to lovers smau series, i'm so down bad for this kuna tbh. i highly recommend checking out all of cinna's best friends to lovers series, they're phenomenal <33 (the suguru one has my whole heart)

oneshots/drabbles:

me and the devil by @yenayaps - modern sorcerer!sukuna x f!reader, i think about his transformation scene in this on the daily tbh

kunafamily by @kashverse - a series of drabbles surrounding papakuna, reader, and their hilarious little daughter. i'm seriously in love everything about them is so sweet

ex-convict!sukuna x academically burntout!reader masterlist by @soleilapproves - a series of oneshots and drabbles surrounding the pairing, i love the world sol's created with them <33

veni, vidi, vici by @emphistic - gladiator!kuna x princess!reader, need i say more?? i'm such a sucker for a historical au and this one is soooo good

knock (her) out by @screampied - boxer!kuna x f!reader x boxer!toji, this is fr some of the hottest smut i've ever read it makes me drool

waiting room by gojotojis (ao3) - bff!sukuna x reader, devastating angst 😭 left me sitting there with my jaw on the ground

coffee breath by @cuntyji - barista!kuna x reader, coffee shop au, light angst. so sweet and i adore the setting, i love the idea of sukuna getting a more calm life as a barista

pornstar!sukuna hcs by @webism - obsessed with abby's pornstar au tbh, i highly recommend checking the rest out too <3

first time? by @kamitv - virgin!kuna x reader smut college au oneshot, the characterization is soooo good here and the smut is HOT

so i know who i'm looking at by @fushitoru - ghostface!sukuna x reader, and it is HOT. absolutely delicious smut, plus ghostface and kuna?? it's chef's kiss

worst behavior by @kunareads - sukuna x f!reader, kuna looooves when reader's pissed and the smut is toooo good, i love dom!reader sm

i'm sure i'm missing more than i can count but off the top of my head these are some of my faves <33 please send these authors some love!!

#trish answers #anon #trish recs #trish recs - sukuna

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lemonlover1110 · 3 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲

Zayne

[Chapter 1] Resentment

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Minors do not interact! Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (f. Receiving), Nipple Play, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Angst

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

The air feels too heavy to breathe. Your room doesn’t feel like your own tonight. You want the night to be over, but you also want it to last forever. This is it.

It’s your last night together before Zayne is off. You don’t know the next time you’ll see him. You’ve had months to prepare for this, but you’re still not ready.

He’s going overseas for research, further helping people’s health while sacrificing certain aspects of his life. He’s such a selfless human being that you almost feel bad for being upset. He doesn’t seem to be feeling any particular way about it, so you don’t understand why you’re so upset.

You just know this is the end, and you can’t help but feel melancholic. This is the last time you’ll see him. This is what you agreed on. An unspoken agreement. You know you’re holding him back, and you don’t want to keep doing that. You don’t want for the resentment to build up until he can no longer stand it.

You want to end things while you can still control them. You want them to end on good terms.

“Are you enjoying the movie?” Zayne asks when he notices that your eyes look glossy. His arm is wrapped around you, holding you as close as he can tonight. It’s hot tonight, his warmth is definitely not needed, but you can’t move out of his embrace. Cuddling with him in bed is the only thing that’s keeping you from crying.

“Yeah, it’s funny.” You comment, and you feel his finger poke your cheek. His eyes observe you, trying to figure out your train of thought.

“It’s so funny that you’re not laughing?” He points out, and you sigh. It’s clear that your feelings are getting the best of you tonight, and you can’t help it.

“I’m going to miss you.” You tell him, turning around to face him. You look into his eyes, feeling your heart break a little. Eyes that bring you so much comfort couldn’t cause you any more pain right now.

You know it’s all going to work out in the end, and you’ll look back at this and laugh about it. Maybe you can reunite in the future, but right now things won’t work out like you want them to.

“If you miss me, you can always call.” He answers as your hands cup his face. You kiss the tip of his nose, thumbs caressing his cheeks.

“You’ll be busy, I better not.” A sheepish smile comes to your lips, and he gently kisses you. His hand rests on top of yours.

“I will always have time for you, even if this is…” He begins but he stops talking before tears can spill from your eyes. “I can always talk to you. We’ve always been friends.”

“You know, I’m happy for you.” You end up pecking his lips. He knows that you’re trying your best to be his rock, but the sadness aura is too heavy to ignore.

“I can come back earlier and we can–” He begins but you shake your head. You refuse. You don’t want to be the reason Zayne stays behind.

“We can always reunite.” You tell him. You don’t know much about what he’ll do, but from what he’s told you, it can last anywhere between months to years. It’s something he’s been raving about, in a field that he’s passionate in; you don’t want to be the reason he stays behind. “I don’t mind waiting a couple of years for you.”

“It’ll be over before you know it.” He tries to reassure you, but it doesn’t work. The more attention you pay to time, the longer it takes to pass.

“Let’s not talk about it.” You end up saying, knowing that you can spend the entire night talking about this with each other. You’ll end up crying all night and all day tomorrow if you don’t attempt to talk about something else.

“What do you want to talk about then?” He responds, and you shake your head. You don’t really know what to talk about. Silence takes over the room for a minute, the corny lines that come from the television now louder than ever. Any sadness fades away, a loud laugh leaving your lips.

“Why did I pick this?” You sit up, looking for the remote to pause the movie. He sits up as well, attempting to mimic your every move. You aren’t the only one that’s lost right now.

“It’s funny.” He answers as his chin rests on your shoulder. You chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes.

“You don’t even know what’s going on.” You argue, and he hums. There’s no point in acting like he was paying attention, his eyes were too focused on you to even bother looking at the television.

“You said it was funny so it must be.” He responds, making you chuckle. You kiss his cheek before turning off the screen. “What do you want to do now? I know you aren’t tired.”

“You can pick a different movie.” You tell him, but he isn’t in the mood to watch anything. He wants to do something with you, something that involves talking… Or more. “Or do you want to do something else?”

He just wants to forget about tomorrow. He wants to enjoy every inch of you. He wants to reach into your soul and comfort you. He also wants to make every last minute enjoyable. He wants to get lost in you, as if you have the rest of eternity to spend with each other.

“Yeah.” Zayne replies, leaning in for a kiss. You don’t hesitate before giving in. A kiss that’s supposed to be innocent on his end, the meaning quickly changing as you deepen the kiss. Your tongue enters his mouth and presses against his own.

Dark eyes look into yours when he pulls away. His forehead rests against your own, trying to have some restraint. Your hands go to the back of his head, pulling him back into a kiss, fingers sneakily moving down his body.

Your hot fingertips touch under his shirt, trailing up his torso while his lips pull away and begin to kiss down your neck. He’s leaving a messy trail of kisses until he’s stopped by your shirt. His hands go to the hem of your shirt, eyes looking up at you for reassurance. You give him a subtle nod before he lifts up your shirt.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mutters as his hands unhook your bra. His mouth moves down to your breast, continuing his sloppy trail of kisses until his tongue begins to circle around your nipple.

“Oh– Right there.” You softly moan as you feel his hand rub against your clothed pussy. Zayne wastes no time in satisfying you, hand going into your pants. His fingers run through your folds before they focus on playing with your clit.

“I need you.” He says, unlatching before getting on top of you. Your back hits the mattress again, and Zayne is pulling down your pants. He nearly tosses them across the room before dipping his head between your legs. Zayne doesn’t even bother taking off your panties, he pulls them to the side.

His breath gets caught up in his chest before he kisses your pussy. Zayne, who always knows what to do in the toughest situations, is always unsure how to start in this situation. No matter how many times he does this, he’s always unsure of what the first step should be.

His tongue runs through your folds, while your thighs begin to squeeze around him. His tongue finds your clit, flicking it. He could die right here, and he’d die a happy man. He’s sure he enjoys this more than you do. Even when you’re pulling on his hair and softly moaning his name even when he’s barely doing anything.

“Zayne… Right there.” You shut your eyes while he runs his fingers through your folds. He pushes two fingers inside you, a loud moan escaping your lips as he begins to move them in and out of you.

He sucks on your clit, eyes looking up at you for reassurance. A reassurance that isn’t needed with how you sound. He curves his fingers just right, hitting the sweet spot that fills you with pleasure.

You bite down your lip as his tongue moves down. He takes his fingers out, tongue moving down to tease your entrance. His fingers continue to play with your clit, and you feel as if you were on cloud nine.

“Fuck… Fuck.” You moan while your climax slowly takes over you. You’re so close. You’re so close to finishing and he knows it. Which is why there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes when he raises his head. A whine leaves your lips, only to be cut off by his lips.

He’s hungrily kissing you while your hands are attempting to unbutton his pants. A kiss won’t cut it anymore, he’s gotten you started and you need him. You bite down his lip before you pull away, breathlessly saying, “I need you. Please.”

“Anything you want.” He affirms as he pulls down his pants. He’s spreading your legs while he pulls down his briefs. He spits down on your cunt before he runs the tip of his cock through your pussy.

“Do you want me to get a condom?” He asks as he’s teasing your entrance. You shake your head before he pushes himself inside of you. He gives you a second when he bottoms out before he slowly begins to move.

This is a great way to forget about everything. His lips go down to meet yours again in a sloppy kiss.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He murmurs as his thrusts pick up some speed. His dick hits all the right spots, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hand to cup and squeeze your tits, too hard for him to ignore.

His hips slow down as his head dips down, mouth wrapping around your nipple again. Your hips meet his halfway, thrusts too slow for your liking. He barely even notices, too engrossed with your tits in your mouth.

“Zayne–” You moan, back arching as his dick hits every right spot. His tongue licks your breasts, going to your other tit to worship it. He’s sucking, teeth grazing your skin. The temptation to bite is strong, but he’s able to consume himself.

“You feel so good.” Zayne tells you as he unlatches from your tit. His hands hold on to your hips as his thrusts pick up speed once again. Your back arches as your hand goes down to play with your clit, pleasure consuming you once again.

His hand replaces your own, playing with your clit. He does a better job than you do. Your orgasm approaches once again, and this time, he won’t snatch it from you. He praises you for it, telling you how great you’re doing for handling him, until you come all over him.

You see white, your climax coming at full force. You moan his name over and over again as he continues thrusting in and out of you. His eyes can’t come off your face, watching every tiny expression that you make while he fucks you. A sight that will be engrained in his mind for as long as he lives.

“You’re so beautiful.” He nearly whispers as his moves become more unregulated. He kisses you again, but not the same as before. He’s more gentle, yet more passionate. He’s moaning in your mouth as he gets closer to his release.

Your brain almost tricks you into thinking about how much you’ll miss this, but the thoughts are stopped when you feel his warmth fill you up. His lips remain on you while he’s deep inside of you, even if he’s stopped moving.

“Zayne.” You’re breathless when he pulls away. You’re about to ruin the mood again, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Instead you wrap your arms around him, hugging him as tight as you can.

“Are you okay?” He asks as if he was close to being rough. You kiss him before humming in response.

“Will you cuddle with me?” You do the eyes that make him weak for you, though there’s no need for them. You act as if you weren’t cuddling before this.

“After I run you a bath.” He responds, and you sheepishly smile.

“You have to take a bath too or else you’ll go to bed all stinky.” You point out, and instead of giving you a clever remark, he agrees.

“Let’s take a bath together then.”

You can’t fall asleep. Even when it’s damn near four in the morning, you can’t close your eyes. You keep looking at him as he so peacefully sleeps. You tired him out.

You look at the clock, anxiety looming in when you realize that you have to wake up in a couple of hours to drive him to the airport. But maybe that’s not the issue that causes your anxiety. You can’t sleep for other reasons.

You should tell him.

There’s a heavy truth that you sit on, and you have to tell him. It’s his right to know. You don’t want to hold him back though. Resentment will build up if you hold him back, and you refuse.

Your thoughts get the best of you, even if the outcomes that play in your head are nearly impossible, you’re so damn sure that it’ll be your reality. He’ll resent you more for what you’re about to do, but the thought doesn’t linger in your mind.

“Is everything okay?” You’re startled by his voice. Too caught up in your own thoughts, you failed to notice he woke up. You feel his warm hand on your cheek, thumb caressing you.

“I can’t sleep.” You confess, the tip of your finger tracing the bridge of his nose.

“Why? Are you hot?” He asks, ready to use his evol to cool you down. You shake your head, though he can’t see it. You should tell him now, but it’s too late. You’ve known for a week, you can’t tell him last minute. “Is it because…?”

“I don’t know what to make you for breakfast tomorrow.” You end up answering, making him click his tongue. He brings you closer to him before kissing your forehead.

“I don’t need anything. I just need you to sleep, okay?” He replies.

“Are you the same Dr. Zayne who scolds me for not eating breakfast?” You ask, and he chooses to remain silent.

Doctor’s orders don’t apply to him.

This is it. You’re walking Zayne to his terminal, and you’re wondering what you should do. Your hands are intertwined while you quietly walk. Even though your relationship ended last night, girlfriend privileges still apply for another twenty-four hours.

“How long is the flight?” You ask him, breaking the silence. Your thoughts eat you alive, and you don’t want to begin crying in front of him.

“Twelve hours but I have a long layover.” He answers. You’ll be uneasy all that time, wondering if he’s okay and if he needs anything. You’ve started to worry more about him the last week, and it’s a feeling that won’t fade with time. Every night you’ll be wondering if he’s okay.

“Can you call me when you get there?” You request, and he gives you his subtle smile. A smile that’s supposed to reassure you, but your stomach churns.

“It’ll be late here, I’ll text you.” He responds, and you nod. You want to tell him to call since you want to hear his voice, but you’ll take whatever he gives you.

“Is it cold over there?” You come to a stop, not wanting to walk in comfortable silence. You want to make awkward small talk until he leaves. You want to hear his voice until you no longer can.

“Very. Luckily, I have my special sweater to warm me up.” He answers, and you try to smile.

“The same sweater you said was a weird color.” You tease, and he clicks his tongue. He ends up letting out a low chuckle before agreeing.

“I’ll still put it on because you got it for me. Even if it doesn’t suit me.” He replies.

People walk around you, the area becoming crowded. Boarding is about to begin.

Zayne isn’t one for public display of affection, but he doesn’t fight back the hug that you give him. He won’t take your love for granted this time. He holds you tight, allowing himself to enjoy the comfortable embrace. A comfort that won’t be just around the corner anymore.

“I’m going to miss you so so much.” You’re holding back tears as he kisses the top of your head. This is your last chance. Your last chance to turn his life upside down.

“I’ll miss you too.” He responds. You look into his eyes, but you quickly look away, scared that he’ll notice the guilt in your gaze. “Will you wait for me?”

“Always.” You force a chuckle before kissing his lips. He cups your face, taking a good look at your face. He wants to remember every aspect of you as accurately as he can. He wants to shut his eyes and remember every feature of your face as light as day. “I love you, Zayne.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your forehead, and you can nearly throw up. You’re despicable.

Boarding begins, and you have to let go. Zayne looks back at you one last time, giving you one more chance to stop him and confess.

You don’t.

You fight back tears and wave at him as he walks away, choosing to remain silent. Regardless of your choice, resentment will brew.

#[Heavy]#zayne lads #lads zayne x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace zayne #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #dad zayne #zayne fluff #zayne smut #zayne x reader #zayne fic #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x you #zayne l&ds

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darkwitchoferie · 6 months ago

Text

Train Ride

Summary: You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members.

A/N: This is an expansion of a little oneshot I wrote on Tumblr. Link here. It is specifically an expansion on each of the scenarios in the oneshot, and maybe an additional chapter or two after that. Also, timing wise, this story does take place in the spring/summer. Seungmin’s chapter involves a baseball game and that’s a specific season. So, in case you wonder why anybody’s hair doesn’t reflect their current styles – that’s why. There are, at the moment, 8 planned chapters. That could change.

Also, for you - @skzficpriv for your comment on the original oneshot and therefore the encouragement to actually finish writing these out. Thank you darling!

This post contains sexual content, read at your own discretion.

General cw/tw for the whole fic, not just this chapter: talks of consensual somnophilia, free-use reader, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal sex, talk of and thoughts of sexual fantasies, anal sex between members, oral (m & f receiving), exhibition/voyeurism (thought not actually in public), polyamory, multi-partner sex, established relationship between Chan x fem Reader as well as between Han x Lee Know. 2nd person POV (you/your). I think that's all, might need to add more later.

wc: 2923

Master list

Chan tossed the wet cloth he’d used to clean you and himself into the hamper then lay back down beside you, tugging you over so you could curl comfortably into his side. He chuckled at your feeble protests at being moved, which stopped as soon as you felt the warmth of his bare skin against yours again. You burrowed in, pressing your face to his side.

On a yawn you muttered, “Wish we’d invite the boys to play with me,” before going limp as you faded into sleep.

Chan froze, looking down at your sleeping face. Surely you didn’t mean what he thought he heard? You couldn’t possibly mean that you wanted the rest of the group to join you two in your bed. Right? He thought about shaking you awake and asking, but knew that was pointless, you wouldn’t be any more coherent until after a full night’s sleep. He tried to calm his mind, reassured that he’d be able to ask about it tomorrow, and eventually fell asleep.

He woke up later than he intended the next morning. Quietly rushing around, so as not to wake you before you needed to be up, he didn’t even remember what you’d whispered until he was walking into the JYPE building and caught sight of Felix and Seungmin walking ahead of him. He stopped in his tracks in the lobby, your sleepy words playing on a loop in his head as he watched his two friends head for the elevators, unaware that he was behind them. He shook himself out of it when one of the company’s security guards tapped him on the shoulder. He thanked the man, saying something about not sleeping well, and made his way up to the recording studio he was expected in.

On his way up, he thought over his reaction, both just then in the lobby and the night before. If he’d been posed a hypothetical question like, how do you think you’d react if your girlfriend said she wanted your friend to fuck her – his immediate reaction would’ve been to say he’d hate the idea. He was possessive of you, everyone knew it. But that wasn’t the way he’d reacted to your words. Instead he was … interested might be too strong a word, but definitely intrigued. He resolved to compartmentalize it in his mind and focus on work until he could talk to you about it.

That lasted for maybe an hour. Until Minho groaned in frustration at getting the English wrong again and Chan’s mind immediately, and without conscious decision, jumped to wondering if he’d make similar noises while fucking you. That single thought started the spiral for him. After that his mind wander and he started to wonder more. What would Hyunjin’s face look like when he sank into your cunt? Did Changbin have as much of a thing for tits as Chan suspected he did? Would Felix's voice go deep or into his higher pitches?

And what about you? Would you make the same noises if Jeongin was the one fucking you as you did when it was him? Would you whine the same way for Seungmin? Who would be whinier – you or Jisung? He was absolutely sure Jisung was loud during sex and now, he was allowing himself to wonder exactly what sounds he and the others would make.

Now that he was thinking these thoughts, he was also recalling every interaction you’d had with the other members recently. How Jeongin’s eyes trailed after you when you walked around their apartment. Or how Jisung’s and Felix’s hugs lingered, something he’d always chalked up to both boys being tactile people to begin with. How Changbin’s hands slid just a little too close to your boobs when he hugged you from behind without actually touching them. Or how Hyunjin always insisted you were the best pose model for whatever he was working on and that he needed an otherwise empty room to focus. The way Minho would look at you sometimes and how similar it was to the way he looked at Jisung and they all knew the pair of them were sleeping together, despite not officially being a couple. How Seungmin didn’t even pretend to shy away from your touch if you happened to be sitting beside him during group gatherings. Or a million other things that he was suddenly looking at in a different light that made him wonder.

He had never really thought about defining his sexuality. You’d asked him about it once and he said he was attracted to people, not their gender. But he had admitted to you that, at the time you got together, he had a bit more experience with guys than with girls, which he’d chalked up to being a trainee throughout puberty. But he’d never allowed himself to delve too deeply into any attraction he might feel for his members, fearing it would make him awkward around them. Now though? Now it seemed that your half-asleep comment had lifted a lid off a box in his mind and all sorts of thoughts were tumbling out.

When they stopped for lunch, he made the seven of them leave ahead of him, playing it off as wanting some privacy to call you. The truth was, with his thoughts spiraling into the territory they were, he was hard. Very hard, and there was no way he could stand up from the desk and it not be obvious. He took several deep breaths, screwing his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists, and tried to will away his boner. Eventually, he called Hannah and that helped instantly, putting him back on an even keel.

Then came dance practice in the afternoon and that put his mind right back in the gutter. Any body roll or anything that looked even vaguely like a hip thrust had him internally struggling with new images. Once, he excused himself to the bathroom and had to take care of his problem before it became too evident. Or at least, he hoped it hadn’t been noticeable.

The day ended earlier than usual, owing to Hyunjin and Felix both having separate photoshoots. While normally, Chan would take advantage of the early end and head back into the recording studio, maybe with Jisung and Changbin, maybe without them, this time he headed straight for your apartment.

“Channie!” You grinned up at him from behind your computer set up in the living room. One of the best perks, to your mind, about working from home was the ability to move your set up out into the living room or kitchen, or really anywhere that wasn’t your home office for a scenery change. “Everything okay?” You could tell immediately that something had your boyfriend edgy. Hopefully everything had gone well at the company.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Almost done for the day?” He nodded at your computer.

“Just about. I was gonna make a pizza, do you want to pop it into the oven while I finish up?”

“Yeah, baby girl. That sounds perfect.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he walked by. He paced the length of your kitchen and back again as he waited, first for the oven to heat, then the pizza to cook. He could hear you working on your computer and didn’t want to interrupt, but he really needed to deal with everything that had been going on in his head all day. Now, surrounded by the familiarity of your apartment, nothing changed. He was still thinking about his friends and wondering how you’d look pinned under Changbin, riding Seungmin, or bent over for Minho.

By the time the pizza was done and you were shutting down your work laptop, he still hadn’t decided if he should just ask you about it, or if he needed to fuck you first, to at least get himself somewhat under control so you could have this conversation. He heard you packing away your set up and taking it into your home office, so he sliced up the pizza and brought two plates out into the living room.

“Thank you, baby,” you grinned at him, sitting beside him and snuggling into his side while you both ate.

Normally, your proximity like this would calm Chan, no matter what kind of day he’d had. You’d snuggle into his side, and he’d relax back into the couch cushions. Not this day. The fingers on his free hand tapped incessantly against your shoulder or the back of the couch. He kept shifting around and could not say at all what show you’d put on the tv.

You waited, somewhat patiently, sure he’d tell you what was going on after a while. Meanwhile, Chan was wondering how the hell to even bring it up. Eventually, you got tired of waiting. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

You sat up to look directly at him. “You’re edgy, babe. Like you get when something’s bugging you. What is it?”

“It’s not…. It’s about what you said last night, before you fell asleep.” At your puzzled look, he said, “You don’t remember?”

“Channie baby, I’m lucky I remembered my own name by the time you were done with me last night.” Smug, Chan grinned and puffed up his chest. “You’re going to have to remind me what I said.” You grinned, playfully rolling your eyes at his smug grin.

“You said, um…. You said you wished we’d invited the guys over so they could play with you too.” Your mind raced. The pair of you had talked about fantasies before, but you’d never voiced that thought out loud, afraid of how Chan would react. Would he think differently of you? If you denied it, would he even believe you? Was he disgusted by you? Or would he think you had or would be willing to cheat on him? Maybe he’d just get really possessive and fuck you into the couch and afterwards you could both pretend you’d never said anything.

Your thoughts were racing so fast that you didn’t realize the time for denial had passed. At least until Chan says, “Baby girl? Did you mean it?”

“I, uh… no?” You tried denying it, but no one would believe a denial that came out sounding that unsure.

“I think you did. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day, baby. Do you know how hard it’s been to get any work done today with these thoughts?” With your terrible denial, Chan grew bolder. You looked away from his face, biting the edge of your thumbnail out of nervousness. When you looked down, you noticed the bulge in his pants. Your eyes widened and shot back up to his face. “Do you have any clue how hard it’s been, all day?” He asked, pressing a palm against his clothed dick. “Hearing Minho groaning into the mic? Seeing Hyunjin roll his hips and wondering….” He trailed off, eyes darkening as he realized that your mind had immediately followed his train of thought and now you were thinking all the same things he’d been thinking.

“You’d… I mean, you’re not upset? That I’ve thought about them, like that?” You asked in a small voice, still somewhat unsure of exactly where this conversation was headed.

Your bed, it turned out, was where the conversation was headed. Chan had gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap and hungrily kissing you without another word. He’d damn near torn your shirt trying to get it off as quickly as possible before groaning when he realized you hadn’t bothered with a bra that morning. You arched into him as he closed his lips around one nipple, teasing the other with his fingers.

When you started to roll your hips against the bulge in his pants, he’d stood up with you in his arms and swiftly strode to your bedroom, tossing you onto the bed and following right behind you. He didn’t give you time to get your bearings or get situated before he was tugging off your lounge pants and panties. His lips were back to roaming on your neck and chest as his hands smoothed up your thighs, pushing them apart so he could slot himself comfortably between them.

You’d gone from nervous to turned on so quickly that you were struggling to keep up with him, eventually just giving in and letting yourself feel his fingers, lips, and tongue, rather than try to keep track of exactly where your boyfriend’s roaming hands were. Until you felt the pad of his thumb pressing against your clit. You gasped, arching and trying to press yourself harder against that single digit.

“Aw, is baby girl needy?” he teased.

“Channie, please.”

He grinned, leaning down to nip at your collar bone. “You have to do something for me though.”

“Anything,” you agreed, desperate to have him. He pulled completely away from you and you whined. Then you looked over and saw he was standing so he could strip himself. As soon as his boxers were kicked off, you reached for him, pulling him back to you by his wrist.

He claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, right hand sliding down your tummy, over your hip, and covering your pussy. With less gentleness than usual, he dipped first one, then two fingers into you. He didn’t spend much time prepping you, just thrusting his fingers into you a few times before deciding he couldn’t wait anymore. But as wet and turned on as you were, you had no problems stretching to accept him.

He bottomed out inside you, your legs wrapped around his hips, him propped up on his hands and leaning over you. Before he started moving, he said, “You have to tell me what you’ve thought of.” At your blank look, he elaborated. “You’ve thought about my friends. Tell me what you’ve thought about. You said you wanted them to play with you, but I’m sure you have details.”

You groaned, partly embarrassed to be having this conversation but mostly because that was when he started to move. He started off with long, slow thrusts, letting you feel every inch of him dragging through your walls. You knew he’d been turned on by his own thoughts, but part of you was still nervous how he’d react to your fantasies.

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“How could I possibly be mad at you?” he countered.

It took you a while, between your moans and gasps, but you finally told him your favorite fantasies. “I want them to use me,” you started off. “Whenever they want. Like when I’m wearing the necklace you bought me so you can fuck me whenever, wherever. I wanna do that for them too.” You gasped, arching against a particularly hard thrust. “Let them fuck me when I’m asleep after a long day like you do. Or – oh God – call me to the dance studio or recording studio ‘cause something’s not going right so you’re all stressed.” You dug your nails into Chan’s back as he leaned down and bit your neck, sucking a deep purple mark into the skin there. “Wanna cock warm Lixie while he’s gaming or Minnie while he’s reading. Be passed around to everybody during movie night. Wanna ride Bin’s thigh after a workout, when he’s still all sweaty. Let Hyune paint me naked or paint on me, then fuck him.”

As Chan’s thrusts got rougher, it got harder to speak, but you kept going at his insistence. “Wanna – ah – wanna sit on Ji’s face. Suck on Innie’s fingers while he fucks me. Let Minho bend me over the balcony fence so I have to be real quiet.”

Chan had your legs bent up so your knees were at your chest when you finally clenched around him, orgasm rushing through you. Every scenario you gave him, brought him closer to his own orgasm and he followed right behind you, the warmth of his cum flooding into you. He brought your legs down, gently massaging your thighs as you both worked to catch your breath.

With a burst of courage, probably encouraged by how he’d reacted to everything else so far, you decided to tell him one final fantasy. But still, you wrapped your legs around his hips to hold him to you, just in case. “I’d be happy with all that, and more. But I’d like to date them too, if they wanted.” You got quieter as you spoke, suddenly afraid that he might think you thought he wasn’t enough for you.

Chan shifted against you, not moving away, just shifting so he could look up at your face. “I wondered, earlier today, and probably before if I’m being really honest, about kissing them. Think I’d like kissing Lix or maybe Hyune the most. Well, no, maybe most is wrong.” He sighed, shifting again and resting his head between your boobs before he continued. “Point is, I know you love me. I love you too.” He kissed the side of your boob. “But I am totally okay with one or both of us dating one or a couple or all of them.”

You relaxed your legs, letting them drop to either side of his hips. Then started gently carding your fingers through his sweaty hair.

A short while later, as you were cleaning up in the shower, Chan asked, “So, would you want to try to see how many of your fantasies we can bring to life?”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz ot8 x reader #bang chan x reader #yang jeongin x reader #felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #lee minho x reader #han jisung x reader

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libraford · 5 months ago

Text

A local organization here has released a list of books that they feel are imperative to have in the time ahead. The list was not easily shareable, so I copy-pasted it here.

There is no need to read all of these, but one thing you can do that takes little effort is call your library and see if they have them in stock.

If you are moneyed, you can buy some copies and put them in little free libraries.

EDUCATING FOR ADVOCACY BOOK LIST

All books are written by authors from that culture

BOOKS FOR ADULTS

(2024) Be a Revolution: How Everyday People are Fighting Oppression and Changing the World - and How You Can, Too by Ijeoma Oluo

Each chapter discusses how someone is advocating for oppressed populations

and has examples of how others can do the same or similar.

(2024) The Message by Ta-Nehisi Coates

The author travels to Senegal, South Carolina and Palestine and grapples with deep questions and emotions.

(2023) Better Living Through Birding: Notes From a Black Man in the Natural World by Christian Cooper

A memoir of a Black man learning to claim space for himself and others like him.

(2022) Myth America: Historians Take On the Biggest Legends and Lies about Our Past Edited by Kevin M. Kruse and Julian E. Zelizer

The title explains it so well.

(2022) South to America: A Journey Below the Mason Dixon to Understand the Soul of a Nation by Imani Perry

History, rituals, and landscapes of the American South and why they must be understand it in order to understand America.

(2022) Memphis by Tara M. Stringfellow

Tells the story of 3 generations of a Southern Black family in Memphis.

(2021) How the Word is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America by Clint Smith

An exploration of important monuments and landmarks in the USA that show

how slavery has been foundational in the development and history of our country.

(2021) The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together by Heather McGhee

The title explains it.

(2021) The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson

Historical fiction telling the story of several generations of a Dakota family

(2020) The Good Immigrant: 26 Writers Reflect on America edited by Nikesh Shukla and Chimene Suleyman

26 authors share their stories of living in the USA.

(2020) Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson

Examines the unspoken caste system that has shaped America and shows how we continue to be defined in this way..

(2020) This Is What America Looks Like: My Journey from Refugee to Congresswoman

by Ilhan Omar

This title explains it.

(2019) The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story by Nikole Hannah Jones (among others)

Reframes our understanding of American history by placing slavery and its continuing legacy at the center of our national narrative.

(2019) Things are Good Now by Djamila Ibrahim

Stories of how migrants sort out their lives in foreign lands.

(2018) So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

An examination of race in America.

(2018) I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown

A memoir telling her journey of learning to love her blackness while navigating America's racial divide.

(2018) If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar

Poetry that captures the experience of being a Pakistani Muslim woman in contemporary America, while exploring identity, violence, and healing.

(2016) Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of History of Racist Ideas in America by Ibram X. Kendi

Traces the history of Black America.

(2015) Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

A memoir, in the form of a letter to his young son, telling his personal experiences with racism and violence in the United States.

(2015) My Seneca Village by Marilyn Nelson

Poetry and information about Seneca Village – a multi-racial, multi-ethnic neighborhood in the center of Manhattan (Central Park ) that thrived in the mid-19th century.

(2014) An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

Tells the 400+ years of US history, from the perspective of Indigenous peoples

(2013) Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Explores the place of plants and botany in both Indigenous and Western life.

(2010) The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson

Follows the stories of three Black Americans’ migration journeys from Mississippi, Florida and Louisiana.

(2010) The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness

By Michelle Alexander

Explains how we haven’t ended, but have redesigned, the caste system in the U.S.

(1972) Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions by John (Fire) Lame Deer and Richard Erdoes

Told by Lame Deer, a Lakota medicine man, this memoir teaches the history of Indigenous people in the USA.

BOOKS FOR GRADES K-12

GRADES 7 - 12

(2021) Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley

The novel's main character is a young woman with a French mother and an Ojibwe father, who often feels torn between cultures.

(2021) The 1619 Project: Born on the Water by Nikole Hannah-Jones and Renée Watson

Illustrated by Nikkolas Smith

Tells the story and consequences of American slavery in verse.

(2020) Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi

Shorter and appropriate for middle and high schoolers.

(2020) All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson

Series of personal essays about the author’s life growing up as a gay, black man.

(2020) Dictionary for a Better World: Poems, Quotes, and Anecdotes from A to Z by Irene Latham and Charles Waters Illustrated by Mehrdokt Amini

Explained in title.

(2020) Woke: A Young Poet’s Call to Justice by Mahogany L. Browne with Elizabeth Acevedo and Olivia Gatewood Illustrated by Theodore Taylor III

Poetry about fighting for racial justice through joy and passion.

(2020) Be Amazing: A History of Pride by Desmond Is Amazing Illustrated by Dylan Glynn

The history of Pride, with bold illustrations, focusing on the importance of embracing one’s own uniqueness and tuning out the haters.

(2020) Dear Justyce (Dear Martin #2) by Nic Stone

Continues the story of Justyce from Dear Martin in a series of flashbacks and letters.

(2020) Punching the Air by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam

A novel in verse about a boy who is wrongfully incarcerated.

(2019) Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobab

The author tells the story of life as a nonbinary person in graphic novel form.

(2019) An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States for Young People original book by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz adapted by Debbie Rees and Jean Mendoza

Shorter and appropriate for middle and high schoolers

(2017) Sea Prayer by Khalad Hosseini Illustrated by Dan Williams

Written as a poetic letter, from father to son, this is a story of the journey of refugees.

(2017) Dear Martin (Dear Martin #1) by Nic Stone

A story of the realities of a Black teen living in America.

(2015) All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely

From the perspective of two teenage boys, one Black and one White, a story is told with the realization that racism and prejudice are still alive and well.

(2015) Beyond Magenta: Transgender and Nonbinary Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin

The author interviewed six transgender for gender-neutral young adults and lets

them tell their story.

(2011) Heart and Soul: The Story of America and African Americans written and illustrated by Kadir Nelson

The title explains it well

GRADES 4 - 6

(2023) An American Story by Kwame Alexander illustrated by Dare Coulter

Tells the story, poetically and honestly, about American slavery

(2023) Step by Step!: How the Lincoln School Marchers Blazed a Trail to Justice

by Debbie Rigaud and Carlotta Penn illustrated by Nysha Pierce

Tells the story of a group of Black mothers and children and their two-year march to integrate an Ohio elementary school.

(2022) Say Their Names by Caroline Brewer illustrated by Adrian Brandon

A young Black girl leads a #BlackLivesMatter protest march.

(2021) Stamped (For Kids): Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi.

Shorter, more kid friendly version of Stamped from the Beginning.

(2021) Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre by Carole Boston Weatherford illustrated by Floyd Cooper

Traces the history of this African-American ‘Wall Street District’ and its destruction by White supremacists.

(2016). I Dissent: Ruth Bader Ginsburg Makes Her Mark by Debbie Levy illustrated by Elizabeth Baddeley

The life and work of RBG told in picture book form.

(2008) Silent Music: A Story of Baghdad written and illustrated by James Rumford

Ancient and recent history of Baghdad from the perspective of a young boy.

(2005) Show Way by Jacqueline Woodson illustrated by Hudson Talbott

Traces the history of the ‘show way’ quilt from slavery through freedom.

(2005) My Name is Bilal by Asma Mobin-Uddin illustrated by Barbara Kiwak

Muslim-American student experiencing religious prejudice.

(2005). Amelia to Zora: Twenty-Six Women Who Changed the World by Cynthia Chin-Lee Ilustrated by Megan Halsey and Sean Addy

An alphabet book that teaches about the extraordinary lives of 26 women.

(1978). The Other Way to Listen by Byrd Baylor and Peter Parnall

Helps children learn about indigenous cultures.

GRADES PRE-K - 3

(2023) These Olive Trees: A Palestinian Family’s Story written and illustrated by Aya Ghanameh

A story of a young girl and her family in Nablus, Palestine, 1967

(2020). Antiracist Baby by Ibram X. Kendi illustrated by Ashley Lukashvsky

Teaches young children how to be an antiracist.

(2016). When We Were Alone by David A. Robertson and Julie Flett

A young, indigenous girl learns about her grandmother’s experience in a

residential school.

(2013). A is for Activist by Innosanto Nagara (board book)

An ABC book that teaches children about being an activist.

#how to help #book recommendations

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mcrdvcks · 6 months ago

Text

what are hands for?

chapter summary: After an offhand comment from your father shakes your confidence, you find yourself spiraling into self-doubt.

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm not even gonna lie, this is extremely self-indulgent. i've barely been home for a week and my dad's already called me fat once and it definitely won't be the last time

anyways, i basically wrote this for myself but i thought i'd share it because i know for some people, being home for the holidays is rough! and the only thing i need is for logan to tell me he loves me and everything would be perfect

warnings/tags: insecure!reader, reader has a brother, skipping meals, implied that reader has received rude comments from family before, reader describes herself as 5'7" and over 200 lbs one time (like i said, self-indulgent), curvy!reader, angst, fluff

You have always had mixed feelings about going to your parents’ house for the holidays, or even during your breaks during college. You loved home, it was where you grew up so naturally you were supposed to love it.

But you also hated it. Hated the comments, the looks, the yelling—all of it.

And somehow here you were, standing in your parent’s quaint house, your younger brother and his girlfriend already in the dining room helping your mom with dinner while your dad greeted you and Logan.

"Hey, kiddo," your dad said, pulling you into a quick, half-hearted hug before turning to Logan with a small smile. "Logan. Good to see you again."

Logan gave a polite nod. "Good to see you too, sir."

Your dad’s gaze flicked between the two of you for a moment before gesturing toward the dining room. "Everyone’s in there. Why don’t you join them? Dinner’s almost ready."

Logan looked at you briefly, a silent check-in, before heading off. "I’ll go see if they need help," he murmured, squeezing your hand lightly as he passed.

The air shifted the second Logan stepped out of earshot. Your dad turned back to you, giving you a once-over that was a little too long for comfort.

"You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just landed a verbal punch to your gut. "Must be all that mansion food."

Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond—what, you weren’t sure—but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just patted your shoulder like it was nothing, muttered something about checking on the turkey, and walked off, leaving you standing there alone.

In the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve put on a different shirt, this one was just a tad bit too tight. But it was one of Logan’s favorite’s, so you didn’t pay too much attention to it.

You pulled on your blouse a few times, trying to get it to not stick to your stomach before walking into the dining room like you always did when you were younger, with a fake smile.

---

You huffed, yanking the seventh shirt over your head and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. Nothing looked right—nothing felt right. Every shirt clung too much, hung awkwardly, or just didn’t sit right. And with each outfit failure, the voice in your head grew louder, echoing your dad’s casual remark.

You tugged at the hem of your tank top, staring at your reflection in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “Stupid,” you muttered, turning to the side to inspect your profile. “It’s just a shirt. It’s fine.” But it didn’t feel fine.

After another long minute, you grabbed a loose hoodie from the closet and pulled it on, letting it drown you. It wasn’t what you’d planned to wear, but at least it hid everything you didn’t want to see.

You made your way downstairs to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before your class. On the counter were a box of donuts, and without thinking you grabbed the two you normally did in a napkin and made your way out.

But not before pausing at the doorway, a bite already taken out of one donut as you looked down at the food in your hand. You took another bite and threw both away, making your way to your classroom before the kids got there.

You got to the classroom a good twenty minutes early, dropping your bag onto the desk with a sigh. The hoodie you’d thrown on still felt too heavy, too obvious, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. The two bites of the donut you’d managed to eat sat like a stone in your stomach.

You busied yourself setting up for the day, pulling worksheets out of your bag and lining them up on the desk. It wasn’t much, but focusing on something, anything, kept your mind from wandering too far down the spiral. The kids would be filing in soon, their chatter filling the space, and that would make it easier. It always did.

But for now, the silence was suffocating.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and you looked up, expecting one of the students. Instead, it was Ororo. She leaned casually against the frame, a warm, curious smile on her face.

“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, stepping into the room. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you shuffled a few papers around unnecessarily. “Yeah, just… wanted to get a head start. You know how Mondays are.”

Ororo tilted her head, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to push. “If you say so,” she said, her tone light but probing. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a second on the oversized hoodie before she caught herself. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, ‘Ro.” You gave her another tight-lipped smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.

She hesitated for a beat before nodding and stepping back into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

The classroom slowly came to life as the students trickled in, their energy filling the room and pushing your thoughts to the background. By the time the lesson was underway, you were almost able to pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.

It wasn’t until later that day, during lunch, that it all came rushing back. The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded, laughter and conversations bouncing off the walls. You slipped in quietly, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the counter before finding a corner to sit in.

From across the room, Logan caught your eye. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, arms crossed, but the second he saw you, his expression softened. He gave you a small nod—his way of checking in. You nodded back, offering a faint smile.

You didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed slightly, though, or the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he turned back to his conversation with Scott. It wasn’t like Logan to hover or push, but you knew he noticed things. And he never let them go.

---

After classes you went into the kitchen to put your mug in the sink from hours ago. Out of habit, you grabbed a few cookies Ororo had made yesterday before stopping yourself.

You stared at the cookies in your hand, your frown deepening as your dad’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you felt like throwing the cookies straight into the trash.

“What’d those cookies ever do to you, darlin’?” Logan’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wasn’t accusing, just… observant.

You hesitated, gripping the cookies tighter. “Nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… wasn’t really hungry.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing off the doorframe to step into the kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you were thinkin’ about that a second ago,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Something on your mind?”

You shook your head quickly, putting the cookies back on the plate. “Nope. Just tired. Long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. Logan had a way of reading you like an open book, and you hated it sometimes. Hated how hard it was to hide from him, even when you wanted to.

“Darlin’…” His voice was softer now, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “It’s nothing, Logan. Seriously.”

He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, you know I don’t buy that. You’ve been off since we got back from your folks’ place.” His voice was low, steady. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. The last thing you wanted was to unload all this on him. But the look in his eyes—genuine, steady, patient—made it impossible to deflect.

“It’s just… something my dad said,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “What’d he say?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. “What’d he say?”

You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He… made a comment about my weight,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Said I’ve been eating too much mansion food.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “He said that?” His voice was low, dangerous. You nodded, still not looking at him. “That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“It’s not—he didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to defend weakly, though you weren’t sure why. “It’s just how he is. And, it’s not like he’s wrong either, I could lose some weight. I’m 5’7” and over 200 pounds, and sometimes my old pants don’t even go over my thighs or hips. And—”

Logan held up a hand, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Alright, stop. Just stop.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a protective edge to it. “First off, I don’t give a damn what your old pants fit like. And second, your dad? He’s got no right to talk to you like that. None.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Logan stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Nope. Not hearin’ it, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here pickin’ yourself apart ‘cause of some stupid thing he said, and that’s not fair. Not to you.”

“But he’s not wrong,” you muttered, looking away. “I mean, look at me. I’m—”

“Perfect,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re perfect. And I don’t wanna hear you say otherwise.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who just says things?” Logan shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, I’m the last person to sugarcoat anything.”

You hesitated, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Logan sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands lightly on your hips. “Y/N, you’re strong. You’re smart. And yeah, you’ve got curves—and I happen to like ‘em. A lot.”

Your face heated at his words, but Logan wasn’t done. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’d be standin’ here, chasin’ after you, if I didn’t think you were incredible? Come on now.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Logan,” you said quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“I know you’re not,” he replied. “But I’m givin’ ‘em anyway, ‘cause you need to hear it. And because it’s the damn truth.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite yourself. Logan grinned, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you. “There’s that smile,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Missed that.”

The knot in your chest loosened just a bit, and you let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks, Logan,” you murmured. “I just… I don’t feel like myself sometimes, you know?”

“I get it,” Logan said, his voice softer now. “We all got our crap to deal with. But you don’t gotta deal with it alone. Not when I’m here.”

You gave him a small nod, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. Logan’s smirk returned, and his hands slid from your hips to the curve of your thighs, his fingers grazing lightly. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning teasing, “you know what these thighs are for, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He grinned, his hands squeezing gently before lifting you up. “For my hands. Nothin’ else they need to do, far as I’m concerned.”

You yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not until you stop talkin’ nonsense about yourself.”

You glared at him, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your indignation. “I’m serious, Logan. I’m not exactly lightweight—”

“Good thing I’m not exactly weak,” he interrupted smoothly, his grin widening. “You think a couple extra pounds are gonna make me break a sweat? Sweetheart, I’ve fought Sentinels and lived to tell the tale. Trust me, I got this.”

You groaned, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, holding you securely. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinkin’ you’re anything less than perfect,” Logan countered, his tone softening just a bit. “Now, you gonna stop beatin’ yourself up, or am I gonna have to carry you around all day until you do?”

“Logan, we’re in the kitchen,” you hissed, glancing toward the doorway. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let ‘em,” he said with a shrug. “Not like they don’t already know you’re my girl.” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “Besides, anyone’s got a problem with me lovin’ on you? They can take it up with me.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, setting you down gently but keeping his hands on your hips. “Now, what do you say we grab those cookies and actually enjoy ‘em? ‘Ro made ‘em for us, after all.”

Your gaze flicked to the plate of cookies, and for a moment, doubt crept back in. But Logan’s steady hands on your hips and the unwavering warmth in his eyes grounded you. “Okay,” you said softly. “Let’s eat the cookies.”

“That’s my girl,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching for the plate. He handed you one, grabbing one for himself, and took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Damn, these are good. Think she’d notice if we finished the whole plate?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than it had felt all day. “Pretty sure she’d kill us.”

“Worth it,” he said with a smirk, taking another bite.

You rolled your eyes but bit into your cookie, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest eased just a little.

And when Logan leaned in to steal a crumb from the corner of your mouth, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to protest.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #logan ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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fancyfeathers · 4 months ago

Text

Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Chapter One, Songbirds and Snakes -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Bruce Wayne's Daughter!Reader

(Author's Note- So this is a series I have been really looking forward to writing this series, this is a big passion project of mine and it took forever to figure out how to write this with all the darling characters, Each chapter will be the perspective of the reader but as the different children since when I originally had this concept they were all darling/reader characters. So this chapter will be written in the perspective of Batman's daughter, but the next chapter will be from a different darling's perspective. Anyway, enjoy and thanks for reading!)

This is also a somewhat sequel to my Always Prey But Never A Bird series, but you do not have to read that series to understand this one

You sat in a booth in an old diner, the type that you would find sandwiched between two apartment buildings on a street corner. It was practically empty around this time, a waitress and her friend who stopped by after what you presumed was a bad first date, the staff in the back, and you. You had a duffle bag with your clothes and suit, a pair of headphones, your cell phone and your charger, your motorcycle helmet, your keys, and a few hundred dollars in your back pocket, all crumbled up. You were a few hundred miles south of Star City, in Coast City now, everything was going so well in Star City, it was supposed to be a new start after Gotham, but now you were just back at square one, maybe even less than that. You were supposed to be Black Canary’s and Green Arrow’s partner, not their sidekick that they treated like a child, you were a grown adult before you even left Gotham. You finally had enough of the babying treatment and decided to leave while they were off somewhere on Justice League business, you did not know what they were doing because they never once told you.

“Is everything alright, Miss? You looked pretty stressed out.” The waitress's voice caught your attention and you turned your head away from the window to look at her, giving her a smile.

“Yes, sorry it’s just been a long day, I rode down from Star City.”

“Oh! That’s a long way, where are you headed?”

“No clue… I just needed to get away from there.” You watched as a look of concern crossed her face as you stood up from your seat in the booth, pulling your bag and helmet along with you. You set down a five-dollar bill on the table to pay for the cheap cup of coffee you bought and for her tip. “Thank you.” You walked towards the door, pushing it open but bumping shoulders with the person walking inside. You glanced up to mutter an apology, but you felt the person’s hand grab you by the wrist, giving you a slight feeling of panic. Your eyes narrowed at the person looking down at you, you knew who he was. “Mr. Jordan, did Oliver send you to talk to me?”

“Yes, but I’m not here for that.” The Green Lantern sighed, you definitely thought he looked tired, but you could not place the why. He glanced out to the sidewalk outside and gestured with his head. “Let’s talk outside, kid.”

“I’m not a kid…”

“Uh huh, from the last time I remember seeing you it was when you got into an argument with your brother when I stopped to visit your old man during an incident in Gotham.” He spoke in response to your mumble as he let go of your wrist and you were willing to follow him outside, but that event he used as reference was easily eight years ago if not more, you went walking down the street corner, just to where your motorcycle was parked, it seemed that he parked his own car just behind your bike, afterall he cannot always use the lantern ring for transportation. You watched him carefully as he leaned against the hood of his car, his fingers coming to pinch the bridge of his nose, stressed by something or other. “Look, there is no easy way to say this, but there has been a problem in the personal lives of the League members.”

“What sort of problem?”

“A problem like you.” You raised your eyebrow at his remark, a silent warning in case he was accusing you of being a problem. “Not you specifically but… okay just… I have two kids, they’re twins and they went missing recently, two days ago. Found the bathroom window open in the morning, screen kicked out.”

“They ran away?” He nodded in response to your question, you could feel his eyes on you, gauging your reaction to his words as the gears turned in your head. “Not going to lie, you never seemed the type to settle down, who’s their mom?”

“It doesn’t matter-”

“Is it a situation like my own parents?” You watched as he tensed up at your words, calling him out. Your parents had a less than healthy relationship, in other words, your mother was forced to be with your father with no way out. You heard of similar situations from the whispers said about Justice League members, you never expected them to be true, you thought them to be better than your father, but it seems, given what you have seen in Star City and what you were hearing now, they were not. You opened the storage pod on the back of your bike and dropped in your duffel bag. You glanced back at the Green Lantern, narrowing your eyes at him. “Ya, I’m out.”

“Wait, please listen.” He reached out as you swung your left leg over your bike, setting his hand on top of your own as they rested on the handlebars of your motorcycle, giving you a clear view of his lantern ring. “It’s not just my kids, from what I’ve heard a few others have gone missing as-”

“You mean they ran away, there is a difference.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your hand away from his. You reached into the pocket of your leather jacket, pulling out a worn, small, hardback journal, a gift from your ex-boyfriend who was another reason you ditched Gotham, along with a pen. “Who’s kids are missing, I’m assuming you came to me because they could have powers and that’s a danger? Or did you want me to ask them to come back? Cause the second isn’t gonna happen.”

“It’s the first, my own two don’t, but some of the others might.” You clicked your pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to list off their names or at least who their parents were. “Superman, Wonder Woman-”

“Wonder Woman has a kid?”

“They’re adopted, I think- anyway, Flash, Aquaman, Martian Manhunter, again adopted, Green Arrow-”

“Wait-”

“They left home before you showed up from what I’m told.” His words made you think, were you just a replacement for that missing hole? You pushed down your thoughts, continuing to write down the names as he continued to speak. “Then there are my own kids… and two special cases.”

“Special cases?”

“You, since you were the first to disappear five years ago, but at that point you were eighteen.”

“Who is the other?”

“Giovanni Zatara’s kid, pretty similar to you agewise, but he left home after his dad… you heard the story right?”

“Ya, I heard about Zatara becoming Doctor Fate’s host… not an easy thing to talk about, is it?”

“It is.” He took a heavy breath in and out, shocking his hands into the pockets of his old air force jacket. “Look, just keep an eye out for them, the League will bring them home but-”

“I will do what I want to, I don’t need to remind you that I don’t answer to anyone, especially the Justice League.” You reach where you set your helmet between your legs on the seat of your motorcycle, picking it up and putting it over your head, the visor keeping the Green Lantern from making eye contact with you. “If the rest of the League are like you and my father, then I think they have every valid reason to leave home.” With that you kicked off your bike as the engine started up. “See ya, Lantern.”

“You are late, Hal.” The voice of Black Canary spoke up as the Green Lantern stepped through the Zeta-Tube that connected to the Justice League’s Watchtower. “Did something happen? Need to talk about it?”

“Ya… I met up with Songbird, she was stopped in Coast City-”

“Is she okay? She’s safe, right?”

“She’s fine, a little pissy but fine.” The Green Lantern responded to the worried questioning of Black Canary, which also turned heads of the others who were also standing by the Zeta-Tube entrance instead of waiting in the meeting hall, namely Doctor Fate, the Batman, and Guy Gardener. “Think she is going to head off to the East Coast after this.”

“No, she’ll be staying in the central states.” The voice of Batman spoke up, making everyone turn their heads towards the man covered in all black. “She wouldn’t go anywhere near Gotham, she is stubborn and isn’t one to let go of grudges.”

“We can send Barry to check up on her-”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Hal responded as he began to walk, or rather float alongside Black Canary. “She made it clear to me that she wants nothing to do with the League-”

“Her father is in the League-”

“She has refused to be associated with him, and I don’t think she is one to piss off right now. Just give her space, I think she needs it right now.”

“Knowing my daughter, when she is given space she is going to cause a lot of trouble.”

You were stopped on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere Arizona, you think you were somewhere about fifty miles from Flagstaff, but it was hard to tell since you had your phone all the way turned off to keep someone from tracking you. You had picked up a paper map at one of the rest stops, trying to figure out a way to get up north, preferably a city with a international airport so you could have choices of where to go next, after all you did have your brand new passport on you along with contact information of one of your old sponsor from when you where a vigilante in Gotham, he would wire you money if you needed it for a ticket or supplies. Right now you were having serious problems with reading this map, you didn’t need a map like this back in Gotham or Star City, and you never legally learned how to drive or ride a motorcycle, just another thing on the long list of things your father kept you from doing.

“Fuck this.” You groaned, finally fed up with trying to figure this map out, you reached into your leather jacket’s pocket and pulled out your phone, powering it on with a long press of the power button. When the screen lit up, you found a long list of missed calls and unread texts from Dinah and Oliver. You rolled your eyes, pulling up the maps app on your phone, and you were indeed in the middle of nowhere. You rolled your eyes, turning your phone back off and shoving everything back into your pockets, your phone and the folded up map. But right as you remounted your bike and were about to slip on your helmet you felt the phone ring in your pocket, you groaned and pulled it out, expecting it to be Oliver or Dinah trying to call you again, but instead it was an unknown number, you slid the green pick up button with your finger and brought the phone to your ear. “Hello, who is this?”

“A friend of a friend.” You did not like the tone of voice you heard the caller use, you could say it was a man and the voice sounded roughly familiar, but it must have been such a long time since you heard it that you could not quite place who it was supposed to be. “Sorry, that sounded threatening, I am a business partner of Mark Austen, I believe you two were close acquaintances when you lived in Gotham, he was a sponsor of yours, yes?”

“He was… I’m sorry but who is this and how did you get my number?”

“You should know that the second part of that question is obvious given your level of intelligence.” You could practically hear the smugness in his voice, he obviously knew you were Songbird so that left your secret identity vulnerable if your suspicions of this person being potentially malicious turned out to be true. “I would like to have a meeting with you, Miss Wayne. Or at least some friends of mine would like to meet with you, don’t worry no one will be harmed and you can be on your way afterwards.”

“Pass, especially since I don’t know who you are and I certainly don’t know who your so called friends are-”

“Oh but you do, I believe the last time you saw them was just before you left Gotham.” Your brain immediately began piecing together the clues that were given to you, the secrecy is not something your father or siblings would have with you if they wanted to talk to you, they would have showed up by now, stalking their way into the shadows of whatever hotel room you were staying in, and then it could not be your ex fiance since he was far to in the limelight to need to have someone reach out on his behalf, besides there were no secrets between the two of you since you found who he really was, a member of the Court of Owls, no not just a member because he killed his mother to have full control of the court. With the other two options removed, that left one person.

“I am not meeting them, and I know who they are.” You growled on your end of the line, the venom and anger bubbling in your voice at the clear lines that were being crossed here. “I don’t know how you know Ra’s Al Ghul, but the last time I saw him, he was willing to kill me and bring me back to life just so he could take me out of Gotham with him and Talia-”

“I promise you that-”

“Fuck off, don’t call me again.” You hug up the phone, powering it down completely and tucking it into your pocket before you slide your helmet back on. You needed to scrap the phone soon, see if you could buy a burner until you could buy a new one safely. “God, I hate my life.”

It was a few days later when you arrived in Chicago, Illinois, you were going to rest for the night before calling up Mark Austen in the morning to inquire about funds and his mysterious business partner, and then hopefully you will be on a flight out of the country by the end of the week. You didn’t have much, so your duffle bag was thrown on the bed with your toiletries pulled out and on the hotel room’s bathroom counter, set there by you while showered off all the dust and dirt you got on you from your motorcycle, which you would probably have to drain out the oil and gas and disconnect the battery before you shipped it along with you to wherever your destination would be.

You stepped out of the hotel bathroom’s shower, drying off with one of those warm, fluffy, white towels they had provided for you before slipping on the white hotel robe that was provided for you along with the room. You felt something was wrong as you reached for the hairbrush from the counter. You unlocked the bathroom door before stepping into the hotel’s bedroom, it was dark with the lights out and the curtains drawn…

You had the curtains open before you went to take a shower, something was wrong, very wrong.

“Hello there, my lady.” You nearly screamed when you heard a voice you didn’t recognize speak up, you snapped your head around to see the frame of a woman lurking in the darkest corner of the room, even with your eyes adapted to the darkness, you could not figure out her face due to the hood and mask she wore, certainly a member of the League of Assassins or at least something similar. “It is an honor to meet the granddaughter of-”

“Ra’s Al Ghul is not my grandfather!” You shouted at the assassin, your mother had been taken in a relationship with Talia Al Ghul, and you were half siblings with her son, and since the master assassins have met you, they have always held some level of affection for you, whether you wanted it or not. “Leave, I don’t want anything to do with you or the League of Assassins-”

“I am not here on behalf of the League of Assassin, but rather on The Great One’s personal behalf along with a few of his… colleagues.” She took a step forward which made you take a step back. “There is a group that has invited you to join, The Great One thinks you would benefit greatly from-”

“Leave, I want with nothing to do with what Ra’s wants for me.” You reply, snapping back at the assassin. “I suggest you leave right now before I deal with you myself, do you understand?”

“My apologies, my lady…” The assassin spoke, and you watched as she walked past you towards the blind covered windows, you watched as she opened them to reveal that the hotel window was open, no doubt her point of entry. “If you change your mind, The Great One would be overjoyed to welcome you home.”

“Trust me I won’t.” You replied and you watched as she leaped from the window, disappearing from your vision. You sighed, moving to sit down on the bed, resting your head in your hands. You spotted that little notebook peeking out from your leather jacket’s pocket that was laying on the bed down next to you. You groaned, picking it up and flipping through the used pages until you reached that small list you had made, that list of names, of the parents of the missing- no, that was the wrong word, the runaway children…

Superman…

Wonder Woman…

Flash…

Aquaman…

Martian Manhunter…

Green Arrow…

Giovanni Zatara…

Green Lantern…

And you, the daughter of the Batman.

God, you hate it when you get ideas. You doubted that any of them wanted to go home, after all, you certainly did not and you ran away just like all the rest did. You took out your phone from your pocket and you began to type in the first name to start.

You have been to Paris once before, it was before your parents got married, when your mother took you on one of her business trips. You remember how much fun you had with her during that trip, on all of the trips you took with her. It has been so long since you took a trip anywhere with her, you never took trips anywhere after you moved to Gotham, and you just remember how depressed your mother got during those days, like the life and the light in her eyes were drained from her.

You pushed open the doors of the cafe, the Angelina Cafe, you remember when your mother took you here when you were little, coming to this place just for the hot chocolate. You were dressed in a nice pink wool coat and a short tea cup dress to match, it felt nice to wear something more formal for a change. You walked up to the hostess stand as the young lady standing behind it looked up at you with a smile as you spoke to her. “Je rejoins un ami, mademoiselle. Un jeune homme, il devrait être assis seul. L'avez-vous vu?”

“oui, il y avait un jeune homme qui est entré il y a quelques minutes, il est assis à la table dans le coin arrière gauche de la salle à manger.”

“Merci.” You gave her a small wave as you strutted across the floor into the dining room, and you spotted the young man she was talking about, sitting all alone in the back corner of the cafe. You walked up to his table and you confidently sat down across from him without being invited or saying a word, and the young man looked up at you with a look of heavy confusion. “You are the son of Giovanni Zatara, correct?”

“Yes… who are you? How do you know-”

“I am the daughter of Bruce Wayne, I think our situations are quite similar.”

“You mean…”

“With our parents, and I hate to say we are not the only ones.”

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