#but i need the distraction from all the awfulness in the world right now

[anothermonikan]

Man high school was fucked up. You ever think about that. Thank fucking god I'm not in high school anymore

[mv1simp]

I have heard your prayers dark!max simps, rejoice now and go forth in peace 🙏

What You Need ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend’s Girlfriend!Reader

I got everything you want with me, I do everything he does times three. he’s what you want, what you want (I’m what you need)

You've just started dating Daniel and find yourself spending a lot of time with his old team mate, Max Verstappen - who's dark gaze and wandering hands always seem to be on you. It's okay though, Max cares for Daniel as a friend and by extension you too, right? You have no idea Max had already decided long ago you were the perfect girl...just not for Daniel, but for him instead.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! reader, manipulative dark!max, size kink, cheating, very dubcon, somnophilia, drunk!reader, Daniel is a bad bf for plot, 4k WC

Max Verstappen stares at you across the crowded room, the dozens of drunk and dancing people at the house party he was at doing nothing to distract him. You’re giggling prettily at something a friend had said, lifting an almost empty wine bottle to your pink glossed lips and not noticing the heated gaze of the 3 time F1 world champion. As always. He tilts his head, a lion eyeing a baby deer, studying your profile and ignoring the attempts at conversation people make to him.

You’re a mystery to someone like Max - a guy who always has whatever he wanted. He drove the fastest cars in the world, fucked the hottest models, and lived in a penthouse in a city with the most expensive real estate. Everything he desired was at his fingertips - except you, Daniel's Riccardio's newest girl. He had no idea how his former team mate had found you amongst all the trashy influencers and plastic models in Monaco. You’d recently started coming to the paddock, quietly cheering on Daniel in his RB garage several spots down from Max's own first place spot - and that was where Max met you the first time. You were a natural beauty, so sweet and innocent, easily got along with the others on the grid, and were smart, too - studying to be a doctor. And to top it all of you didn't seem to even care that Max was Max Verstappen, world champion - which only intrigued him more.

The first time you talked was when his car had skidded out badly on the RedBull practice track, leaving a nasty cut on his forearm that you had patiently sutured and bandaged, sweetly explaining how to look after his wound with a concerned expression. You really were the perfect girl, and Max had decided right there and then that he had to have you for himself. You were wasted on Daniel - and besides, you two had barely started seeing each other a few weeks ago, just “casually” the Australian has said. Daniel was an idiot for not making it official with you. Ah well, all the more easier for Max to claim you instead.

But you never seemed to have eyes for anyone but Daniel, which perplexed the Dutchman to no end. Max was the one in first place, in the top team that every driver dreamed about, the richest and fastest one on the grid - while Daniel drove as a second rate RB driver, a shadow in the glory of its primary Red Bull team. Yet you'd be beaming at Daniel excitedly as he finished P12, while only shyly saying a brief congratulations to Max in P1 at the afterparty. Max was never one for losing, though - he just needed time to get you to give in and accept everything he could offer you. There was no way you would be happy with a 2nd rate driver - no, he knew what a diamond like you really wanted was someone like him. And it had been easy enough to be around you more and more under the guise of hanging out with Daniel.

Like that time he'd invited you both to his yacht for New Years'. He'd seen your eyes light up in awe at the luxurious vessel, and later than evening when everyone had gone to bed but you were still out admiring the stars, he easily came upto you, large hand grazing your back, standing a lot closer than one might to a girl his mate was dating.

He'd casually pulled a diamond choker out from his pocket and held it out to you on a thick finger. Your eyes had gotten wide at the beautiful gift - big, crystal clear jewels with a dangling pearl "M" in the centre. To say thank you for fixing my cut, he explained. And the M for your last name, right? You had blushed and stuttered uncomfortably at the romantic gift, refusing to accept it - Max, is this Cartier? Oh my god, how expensive was this?

Max joked that his hands were a multimillion asset and you deserved a fitting gift for saving them. Besides, it's rare in my line of work to meet someone so genuine who actually cares for me. You'll take it, right? Since we're friends now? You'd felt guilty at his pouting expression, hesitating but having no choice but to say yes - it was just a friendly thank you, after all, right? He stepped behind you to put it on, his lips brushing your ear as he bends down to your petite height. He doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch and smirks as he traces a large palm along your neck before bringing the clasp together. Wow, Max, it's truly so beautiful, thank you, you breathe, entranced as you look at the jewels - Daniel was so lucky to have such a caring friend! You completely miss how Max gazes down your cute summery off-shoulder dress, his height behind you giving him the perfect view of your delicious tits - where a pearl M now dangles just above them. He feels a delicious satisfaction at the sight of you in his necklace, on his yacht, and within his arms. Yeah, it's beautiful, he agrees, smiling with just a touch of darkness. Looks great on you. You smile back innocently, not realising the M around your neck didn’t stand for your last name but rather for the M in Max.

Another time, you and Daniel had joined Max's extended group for a weekend retreat to St Tropez. Max hadn't seen you in a while, since you had been busy sitting final exams. But the wait had been worth it when he saw you in your cute little baby pink bikini and gold waist chain. And it had only gotten better when he found you later, dozing alone on a sunbed in the Spanish heat, your idiotic boyfriend nowhere in sight and leaving you unprotected to Max's predatory advances. You blinked your eyes open sleepily as Max set down a chilled G&T at your side. You thank him sweetly, too lazy to sit up properly and just lean over to suck up the refreshing drink from the straw, giving Max an enjoyable teaser of what you might look like sucking something else of his. Sorry I haven't been much fun, you say apologetically, especially after you've been so nice to invite me. I'm still catching up on sleep from my exams.

Max assures you not to worry about anything, telling you to nap to your hearts' content, making you giggle cutely. You look around, trying but failing to see Daniel and pout cutely when he's nowhere to be found. He'd promised to put sunscreen on my back, you explain, slumping back onto the comfy cushion with a yawn. I'm really sorry to bother you, Max, would you mind? I don't want to burn-

Max snatches up the golden opportunity, Don't worry, schat, he reassures, and you tiredly file a mental note to google that word later. I'll take good care of you. You smile at him gratefully, closing your eyes as he slowly rubs across your tantalizing caramel skin with his large, rough palms. You never notice how his steely blue eyes greedily roam up and down your body, but you do gasp in surprise when he slowly undoes one of your bikini strings, turning to look back at him - just have to get under them to apply it properly, sorry, you're a little burnt here, Max’s apology sounds so sincere that you say Oh, of course, turning back around and feeling silly for getting worried. So you don't question him further when he undoes the other set of strings on your bikini top, your back now completely exposed for him, and his warm palms feel sooo good against your aching muscles that you accidentally let out a moan. This time you hastily apologize but Max chuckles, saying your shoulders carried the tension of a hostile terrorist-hostage situation. He offers to give you a hand with a deep muscle relaxation massage he uses.

You hesitate, not sure if this is pushing the boundaries of what's okay, but when Max says that he does this for Daniel all the time, you relax, surely Daniel wouldn't mind then, right? It's all too easy to fall back into a light sleep as Max continues to rub the stress out of your sensitive little body, his hands so much larger and stronger than your boyfriends’ that it makes you feel reallyyy good in places you didn’t know you could be. You're too content to care when Max's touches drift down your sides, grazing against the full swell of your tits, or when he goes lower, and lower, and your bikini bottoms are now undone and he's squeezing across your juicy ass, making you moan sweetly while half asleep. You're completely soft and relaxed underneath him, forgetting that your own boyfriend hasn't yet touched you in the intimate places Max now had. If you had looked back you would have seen Max lazily stroking his erect, big cock as he stood over you, taking some pictures for later as he spreads your pliant chubby thighs and zooms in on the wet slick that had started to gather in between your legs and drip down then. Smirking to himself with the proof that your body was so affected by him, he jerks himself off with rapid pumps, breathing heavily as he shoots a large load of hot, white streaks all over your tan ass. You hmmm at the feeling, jiggling your hips, but don’t bother fully awaking to investigate as Max huskily leans down and whispers in your ear that you just needed a bit more cream there, sweetheart.

You nod, settling back into a comfortable sleep as Max rubs his cum all over your ass territorially, smirking darkly at how innocent you were. By the time Daniel returns to your side, he finds you still snoozing peacefully, your bikini tied back up in perfect little bows and Max long gone.

As the days went on you found yourself more and more in the company of Max, and you couldn’t deny the flutter you felt sometimes now when you looked at the older Dutch man. He was so handsome, so generous, and so considerate of you - so much more than Daniel was - and you felt immensely guilty at the disloyal thoughts that would spring up. Especially since Max was just being a good friend to you but you were starting to develop all sorts of inappropriate feelings. One training weekend you decided to be a good girlfriend and took a freshly packed homemade lunch down to the Redbull track to energize your boyfriend.

Max caught sight of you first, and easily fed Daniel some bullshit about the RB social manager needing him to review an insta post - just on the other side of the track. By the time you walked into the garage it was just Max, who told you that Daniel had gone out for lunch, actually, one of his friends was in town. That French model, I think? Oh! Yep, the one who was in Vogue last month.

He didn’t miss the flicker of uneasiness that spread onto your face as you were informed your boyfriend was out on a lunch date with a model. Oh, you say, feeling insecure and stupid that you’d come all the way here - but Max easily wraps a strong, comforting arm around your shoulders and reassures you, insisting that you join him for lunch instead and surely come for a ride, yeah?

He completely takes your mind off your worries by speeding you around in his racecar on a hot lap, and you’re screaming in pure excitement and delight, one hand automatically grabbing his large thigh. He’s so much faster and smoother than Daniel, and you bite your lip as you watch him sexily manoeuvre through tight corners. Afterwards, your stomach is all queasy from the speed and he laughs and helps you out of the car, and you end up having a picnic by the waterfront with your homemade grilled sandwiches and slices of lemon cake. God, this is so good, Max moans as he scoffs down a second slice. You’ve completely ruined my diet. Daniel’s so stupid to miss out on a lunch like this. If you were my girlfriend, I’d never spend a meal away.

You blush at his words, feeling flattered but also a little on edge - it was a bit strange of Max to wonder what it would be like dating you when you’re dating his friend, right? You pick at the grass, suddenly avoiding his gaze and feeling guilty again. Max notices immediately, eyes narrowing, but changes the topic to ask about how your studies were going to which you respond enthusiastically. Afterwards, you thank Max for being such a caring friend and knowing just how to cheer you up. You miss how his jaw clenches at the word "friend", because he would much rather be known as your boyfriend - or preferably, husband.

Later, for good measure, because he never did things half heartedly, he asks his good friend - the French model on the Vogue cover last month - to swing by the RB station and greet Daniel, his mate who’s a big fan and would love to meet her. Conveniently, the paparazzi just happen to capture the moment when she kisses his cheek, and within hours the photos have blown up about Daniel's latest fling and you’re being sent it by all your friends. It leads to a huge fight between you and Daniel, making you storm off only to end up calling Max, crying and apologising but asking if he would pick you up. He’s all too eager, arriving within minutes in his sleek Aston Martin, all comforting and warm as you sob into his secure chest and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. But despite it all you still shakily smile and thank him, saying you should head back and work it out with Daniel. You were just too sweet and loving for your own good. Max needed to step up his game plan - if it wasn't money, status or his charm, how would he sway you into his arms?

The final piece of the puzzle came together at the Barcelona Grand Prix. The Redbull and RB drivers all happened to be sharing a hotel that weekend, and as Max is walking back to his room one night he hears moaning coming from Daniel’s room - the one that he knows you’re sharing with him. Being the perv he is, Max doesn’t hesitate to crack open the shared ensuite door and see his naked ex-teammate rutting up against your plump ass, sliding his small dick back and forth between your asscheeks as you lay on your stomach - fully clothed in a shorts pajamas set, looking almost bored. Confused, Max tries to figure out what the fuck you’re doing - only to get his answer when Daniel pathetically whines please, honey, please can I take these off, I want to be inside you-

No! You snap at him, turning to face him with a glare. I told you, I’m saving my virginity for marriage. Stop asking me. This is all you get.

Oh, shit. You were a fucking virgin? Max’s jaw is practically on the floor and it takes him a few minutes to collect himself before he quietly closes the door and leaves to ponder on this new information. You really were the perfect girl for him. He was going to claim you in every sense of the word - until no one had any doubt about who you belonged to. He smirked, already hatching up a diabolical plan.

And that was how Max now found his gaze fixed at you, barely a week later, at this house party where you’d clearly had too much to drink. Swiping his phone out his pocket, he shoots a text to his very helpful friend the Vogue model again - this time asking her to help out a certain Australian driver who was quite sexually frustrated at the moment. Having sorted out the issue of your boyfriend for the time being, Max strides over to you, who’s now all alone in the kitchen messily trying to pour another drink. You’re dressed in the cutest little pleated miniskirt, stumbling on matching kitten heels, and Max feels all the blood rush to his cock as he sees you’re wearing the diamond choker he gifted you.

You haven’t seen him yet so he comes up behind you, guiding your hands to pour the drink smoothly. You giggle, assuming your boyfriend has arrived, and rub your ass against his crotch. Daniel! You exclaim happily, turning around and burying yourself in the Redbull hoodie he wore. Mmmh, baby, you’re here! You love when he wears this hoodie, because sometimes you like to cuddle it and wonder - just for a few seconds! - if it was Max's arms around you instead. Not that you'd ever admit these illicit thoughts to either party.

Meanwhile, Max’s eye twitches at the insult of being called the name of his supbar ex-teammate, but then you’re rubbing your pink nails all over his shoulders and back and pressing your soft, curvy body against his much larger frame and drunkly whispering have you been working out? You’re sooo much bigger and musclier than I remember you being, it’s super hot!

Max can’t help chucking at your cute antics, telling you let’s go somewhere more quiet, baby. Grabbing your drinks, he easily tosses you over his shoulder and exits out the back door to avoid your friends, slapping your ass for good measure as your miniskirt rises up, making you yelp in excitement. He definitely must have been working out because you can't ever remember when he has lifted you so easily before! He leads you into the dark and empty pool house, well and truly away from any prying eyes.

Throwing you onto the plush sofa, he purposely leaves the lights off as you squint up to see his dark, tall silhouette. You whine for him to come closer, asking where did the music gooo and after connecting to the speakers he drops down next to you. You climb eagerly onto his lap, excitedly yapping about how much you love this Redbull hoodie. His large hands automatically come up to rest on your ass, thick fingers sliding underneath your miniskirt and pulling your thong to the side as he begins teasing your slit. You instinctively grind against his leg, pushing back against his fingers, cause wow, baby, when did you get so good at this? You meet his eyes finally when you lean in to kiss him and you squeal in surprise as you realise just who you’re desperately humping. Mmmh-Max?!? Ohmygod what are you doing here-

Max is immediately annoyed that you seem to have come to your senses, but as you begin to pull away, he hatches a new plan. I just came to tell you the bad news myself, schat, he says earnestly. You’re confused at what he means but he pulls up his messages and shows you a video (his friend works very fast, after all) that has you recoiling in disgust. But Max makes sure that you see every second of it - of the French model filming Daniel’s pathetic scrunched up face as she rides him into oblivion, him moaning please can I come, mommy?

Max has to resist his snort. Fucking pathetic. You could do so much better - with him. Sorry you had to hear it like this, Max lies through his teeth, not sorry one bit, I just wanted you to hear it from me and not the news outlet. But you just climbed on top of me and began doing all this and I couldn’t stop it-

His guilt trip works perfectly and you’re back to bouncing in his lap, teary eyes, saying I’m so sorry Maxie, that’s all my fault, I thought you were Daniel but I guess we’re broken up now, can I make it up to you? What can I do?

Bingo. Tilting his head, Max smirks darkly at you. Can you just use your lips to drain some of the stress, baby? It got all tense cause of your grinding. You widen your brown doe eyes, confused but he just guides you down with a strong hand to sit on your plump ass in between his legs. My lips? You say breathlessly, and Max nods, guiding your head to his crotch as you immediately start sucking on his straining bulge. Like-like this Maxie? You ask innocently, voice muffled. Not quite, Max strains through gritted teeth. Unzipping himself, he guides his thick length out against to rest against your face with a thwack. Your eyes go wide at the size. Maxie is much, much bigger than your boyfriend.

Ex, the world champion corrects, as you accidentally say it out loud. He’s just an ex now. Now, you going to be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?

You nod obediently and sloppily take him into your mouth, choking and gagging as you go. Max moans blissfully as he finally has you, angling his flash onto your face - just to help you see what you’re doing, he lies sweetly - whilst recording the filthy blowjob he’s tricked you into performing. You moan around his length, Max is always so thoughtful towards you! You’re determined to clear up any ounce of tension your earlier actions had caused him - not noticing that his cock is only getting harder as you coat with it your saliva and lip gloss.

Swearing at your eager mouth and nearly finishing early, Max sadly has to put an end to this as he has other plans in store. He manhandles you again, this time carrying you in his arms up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Before you can orient yourself he’s yanked his clothes off and climbed on top of you, asking you to open your mouth wide so he can check you’ve drained him properly. You do so dumbly, and Max messily spits before shoving his thick tongue down your throat as you start moaning again. Mmh, don’t think you got it all, sweetheart. Max says disapprovingly. Plus, you made me all messy with your lipgloss. How am I going to go back to the party like this, huh?

You go teary eyed again at the demanding tone, anxious you’d made Max mad. You beg to suck him off again, promising you’d lick up all the mess this time, but he sighs, running his hands through his hair and saying not enough, think I need to relieve it a different way. You nod eagerly, whatever you need Maxie, but squeal in suprise when he grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up over his shoulder, flipping your skirt up and ripping your panties in half to expose your dripping pussy. Maxie- Ohmygod, what are you doing, is this really- you’re babbling frantically, hearing a voice at the back of your mind tell you Max was taking this too far.

Max cooes words of reassurance at you, Shhh schat, this is the only way to feel better, okay? You’ll help me out, right? After I helped you?

You hesitate but give in, unable to resist your growing desire for the handsome driver. He grins cockily at you, leaning down and lapping at your intimate parts with his skilled tongue, saying he just needed to make sure you were all relaxed first before he started. You feel bad that you’re enjoying it this much, since Max has to do all the work himself, but it feels soo good, and you moan Max’s name over and over as he starts sliding his fat aching cock in between your slick folds.

Almost there, baby, he hisses, sweat running down his back as he yanks your crop top off, leaving you in the sparkly choker with his initial across your heaving tits. He turns the camera back onto your blissed out face again, wanting to capture the expression on your face when he enters you for the first time. You smile back adoringly with your doe eyes, unaware of just how long of a night he had in store for you or how many times you would come apart on his cock, your precious virginity now all his.

And the next morning when you’d arrive on the paddock, meekly walking past the RB garage and straight into Max’s Redbull motor home, he would reply to Daniel’s confused texts with a picture of his hand across your bejeweled throat, hickeys littering your tits, so that there would be no more questions about what you were doing at Max’s side. Just how you were always meant to be ❤️‍🔥

—————————————————————————

A/N: GUYS I need to write some fluff after this I feel like I’ve objectified this poor man with like 7 straight smut stories in a row omllll

[letsnotperceive]

Okay, I just can’t stop thinking about John Price honestly. Especiallyyy after he’s *retired*!!

Here is a little drabble (is that the right word? Can’t remember, I’m new here). It gets a little 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 (18+) towards the bottom but nothing crazy. F!Reader

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉ ୨ᰔ୧ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

✧.* Because sure, big buff military man who’s puffin’ more smoke than a chimney is cool and all. But give me sleepy, squishy, human teddy bear Price. Give me Price who’s perpetually exhausted after carrying the weight of the world on his back. Price that just wants to hibernate for a while with his luv.

✧.*Im thinking he’s all softened up around the edges. All that muscle mass doesn’t disappear over night, but as time passes and he’s no longer on an extensive workout routine, it ain’t sticking around forever. Big ol’ pecs that you can squish your face against, a little padding to his stomach. Hold on, stay with me now 🤤

✧.* Of course, he’s still got that grizzly sort of appearance. All mapped in scars and maybe the occasional burn from those late nights spent at his desk with a cigar between his fingers while he’s drifting in and out of consciousness with exhaustion. The damn workaholic! Hairy too; least we forget—that beard and those arms. Oh lord.

✧.*Maybe one day you realize in that post retirement laze of his (which is well deserved, mind you. Don’t give him a hard time now) that he’s looking a lil’ extra scraggly. You sit on the bathroom counter, and with a delicate hand and a very distracted focus, you give his beard a shave. All cute and romantic, the room still steamy from your shared shower…

BAD. Mistake. You both agree to never let it happen again. An angel just lost its wings!! Leave his beard alone 😭

✧.*Treat this man so good, he deserves it. Whether you like to cook or not, you find yourself gravitating to the kitchen on occasion to make sure he’s eating well at least some of the time. Some home-cooked meals to cancel out all those shitty MREs he’s consumed in his lifetime.

✧.*Bet he will reward you for it too; he’s got a soft spot for good girls. He is tired of yelling commands and barking out orders, he’s too worn out to deal with a brat. Be a sweet little thing now and show him some love. Offer to climb into his lap and take over when his bad leg starts acting up, see where it gets you.

✧.*Rolling your hips to a steady rhythm only you hear, he lets you have your fun until he’s ready to set the pace. Big hands pawing at your waist, clutching at you just tight enough his fingers are going to leave red marks for him to soothe away after. He doesn’t even have to roll his hips up against you, he can just move you as he pleases with his strength.

✧.*You don’t even have to try to give him a show—he drinks in every little reaction you give him. His heart skips a beat when you mewl, your eyes threatening to roll back in sheer bliss. The sticky sound of your thighs, drenched in arousal, meeting his skin. The way your lips meet his neck and shoulders, kissing and nipping love bites against his body. The mattress springs squeaking from underneath you two. It’s a performance, and he’s dedicated to appreciating every moment.

✧.*He’ll send you melting with his words, too—

“Mmm, is that good, little luv’?”

“You like that, baby? My darlin’?”

“Such a good girl—doing so well f’me.”

“F-fuck lovie, do that thing with your hips again~”

✧.* Aftercare is top-tier with him too, no questions asked. He may have gotten a little lazy in his retirement, but never when it comes to you. Water, a snack, a quick clean up. Him putting his entire weight over you like a human weighted blanket. Whatever you need, Lovie.

﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍﹍⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

Wrote this quickly after doing an online job interview, I don’t think it went very well bc I have awful RBF but wish me luck :,)

Should I do a full fledged fic about this? Anyone interested? Okay, bye <3

[greyskyflowers]

I like to think about Charles really understanding what Edwin went through in hell. I really wished we'd seen more of that in the show. 😫

Like... how many times do you think Edwin got torn apart down there? How many times could he die and start over in an hour? A day? A year?

How many times did the demon mess him up just enough so that he couldn't run? Stuck sitting there just waiting to either bleed out or for the final strike before starting again?

Anyway ~ I'm feral for hurt/comfort and burn the world for you relationships so here we go ~

🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜

Sometimes Edwin has what they've been calling, for lack of better word, episodes. He had some prior to his second trip in hell but nothing like what he has now.

Charles can't decide if it's easier or harder to witness them now that he knows more about what happened all those years in hell.

Thankfully, most of the time, these episodes happen when they're home. Usually after a particularly rough day and often coinciding with times when Charles is briefly out doing something.

He always knows right away, steps through the mirror to a dark and quiet room. There's a brief but consuming feeling of panic every time he steps out and doesn't immediately see Edwin, but he doesn't think that will ever go away.

There's a few places Edwin tucks himself into when he has an episode, all of them small and dark.

Edwin claims it's muscle memory from all the years in hell he ran and hide.

Personally, Charles thinks Edwin finally has places to hide and takes full advantage of it. He doesn't remember seeing too many places to hide in those terrible, endless hallways of hell.

Charles hates these episodes.

He's trying to be better with his anger but everytime they go through this, everytime Edwin gets a certain look in his eye, or tries to nonchalantly get closer to Charles when something sets off memories, it reminds him that Edwin was taken away from him numerous times and was hurt over and over again.

It makes the rage simmer in his belly and he thinks no one would really hold it against him if he ever gets his hands anyone who's hurt Edwin and let's the rage take over for a minute... or a few minutes. He really wouldn't need more than that with all the anger that seems to burn under his skin.

He's quiet as he walks to the desk, eyeing the chair pulled out and shoved away to make room, before carefully peering around the edge to look under it and Edwin looks back at him with awful, terrified eyes.

He knows how this goes by now, almost the same every time. What a terrible thing to be familiar with.

He quietly sinks to the floor by Edwin and starts trying to squeeze himself under the desk with him. The space is not meant for two people, or even one, but like hell he's going to pull Edwin out of today's chosen hiding place so they can get resettled easier.

He'd done that at the beginning. Tried to remind Edwin where he was and that he was safe, had spoken softly but not as soft as he had in hell, and tried to pull Edwin out. It was a mistake. The look of terror and betrayal on Edwin's face had made sure he never tried that approach again.

It was easier this way, to play along.

He puts a hand on the back of Edwin's head because he always smacks it off the underside of the desk when they hide here, and while it might not hurt him like it would a living being, it still makes a painful sound that has Charles clenching his jaw.

Edwin ends up on his lap, really the only way they both fit, and thankfully he's usually too distracted to realize that Charles has his legs sticking out from under the desk and that their hiding spot isn't really a good spot for two people.

He trembles, even though he's stiff like he's trying desperately not to shake. He clings, hands grasping at Charles's shirt and burying his face in his neck like everything will go away if he can't see it.

Sometimes, it sends Charles spiraling down a rabbit hole, wondering how Edwin held himself up long enough to run in hell when he always shakes so hard during these episodes. His legs wouldn't carry his weight right now if they stood up, he'd go right back down.

It's not something he likes to think too much about, especially when Edwin needs him to hold it together.

Sometimes Edwin cries. Sometimes he begs. Sometimes the only noise is a frantic wheezing.

Charles pulls his legs up more and wraps his arms around Edwin tighter, curling around him as much as he can. He urges him to keep his face tucked away, pets at his hair, and strokes his thumb over his arm. He presses his lips agaist any skin close enough, and starts talking. Soft, and hardly even audible but it always helps.

He talks about everything and anything he can think off. Stories, memories, comforts, praises.

He tells Edwin that he's been absolutely brills to handle this alone before Charles got back, but he's here now and if Edwin needs to just hide away for a little bit, that was fine. Charles has him. Nothing is going to get him.

He's glad Edwin doesn't remember much from these episodes, panic making everything too hazy to understand when he tries. He just knows how they end, usually with the two of them tangled up somewhere, because Charles refuses to let Edwin go until he's completely back to himself but that's as far as he can usually recall.

Charles would crack open his ribcage and let Edwin hide in there if it'd keep him safe.

🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜🌜

Frantically scribbled this down during work so please forgive any errors. Got lots of ideas hanging around my head and little time to type them out 🤔

Gotta love all that trau~ma!

[stargirlfics]

So Much Goddamn Talkin’

Joel Miller x Black F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes Joel has to quiet the noise in your head. Luckily he’s quite good at that.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, post outbreak—Jackson era, mutual pining, friends to lovers vibe, established relationship, some mentions of anxiety, feelings and fluff, competency kink, soft dom!joel vibes, smut: oral (both receiving), fingering, soft intense PiV, unprotected sex, praise kink, daddy kink, come marking

*reader is written and described as black but anyone is welcome and encouraged to read!

Word Count: 6k

Currently obsessed with the thought of older, domestic Joel in a relationship and couldn’t stop myself from getting carried away! Enjoy!

It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d ever spoken to Joel.

On the contrary, what had started as a timid friendship became something else entirely with one spontaneous kiss that only the stars bore witness to that night. 

A silly dream of romance had landed right in your lap despite the crumbling of the old world behind you, taking everything with it and yet they took your breath away constantly, like a whirlwind, two grounding anchors were now tethered to your heart and their names were Joel and Ellie. 

So why were you so nervous? 

Sighing softly, you decided to blame it on the watchful glances Joel was giving you from across the yard, distracting you from the book you were reading. Eye contact with him could feel like the most searing heat, spreading like wildfire and at the same time the deepest depths of comfort. 

Not always being a man of many words, the things he could express with a simple look or the weight of a hand fascinated you, made you fall so dangerously hard and with a certainty you’d never felt before. 

Therefore you reasoned it simply couldn’t be your fault for being distracted and wanting him so much right now. Not when he made you feel this way without even having to try very hard. 

You just needed to take a moment to soak it all in, a blooming hope carried in on the breeze now that it was the beginning of spring in Jackson, the wildflowers and planted seeds starting to sprout, and the soil and your own souls teeming with life after so long spent just surviving. Now there was space for healing. 

Space for you to sit in the rocking chair Joel had worked on for months as a birthday present to you, or watch him get around to all the house projects (because once a contractor always a contractor) and strum out the prettiest chords on his guitar late in the evenings out on the porch. 

This felt more like living and you never wasted a moment to covet it. 

“You’re doing an awful lot of staring, Miller.” You looked up from the same page for the fifth time to catch him already looking your way. 

He blinked and put another nail into the wood post he was working on. 

“Hm, well damn right I am when you look the way you do. Now if I told you it’s been at least ten minutes since you’ve turned a page in that book you just might have to admit you’ve been starin’ too.” 

There was that little smirk you knew so well, dancing on his lips as if he knew just how much it would drive you crazy, the confirmation that you hadn’t been subtle in the slightest either. 

“Well, you’re out here giving me a show.” You make a point to turn to the next page then, looking away before he could throw you a look at the sass in your tone. 

He was right of course but what he didn’t know was that reading had started all this to begin with. 

The tattered novel had been a surprise find on a patrol one day and came with an unexpected eroticism, bits of dialogue and tantalizing imagery on the page you were stuck on making your mind wander and wonder. 

It’s why you felt a little nervous, caught off guard, suddenly wishing you were in bed and underneath him. 

He flashes his teeth at you, that smirk widening into a smile at your reply, his attention returning to the tools in his hands but your own continued to linger. Remembering. 

A few nights before in particular, when he was fucking into you so deep you had to bite the sheets to keep your moans down. You could still picture the definition of his arms as they cradled you and kept the headboard from colliding into the wall at the same time. 

Or how good you knew it felt when his broad palms swat across your ass, never failing to make you yield to him with such eagerness. 

You wished you could have your hands on him now, petting, feeling, showing him how much he was desired and cared for, how much you wanted to be filled by him, stretched out and aching with nothing but his name in your mind and on the tip of your tongue for hours.

Those stray thoughts had you turning back a page, leaning into the slow burning fire lit underneath you. 

Still unsure of how to initiate these desires, you didn’t want to distract him from something he’d been trying to get around to doing for awhile and at the same time felt a thrill at the idea of tugging him away, leading him to bed. 

With some hesitation you decided to bide your time for a bit longer, getting caught up in words that made you squirm imagining Joel doing and saying them. 

God, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could keep up, feeling the slick pooling of arousal between your thighs, the way you wanted to grind against nothing already. 

Joel finished repairing the post in no time and moved on to patch up a hole in the wall of the old shed, unaware of your internal dilemma. 

Eventually he gathered up his tools and stored them away, told you he was gonna head in and wash up but that you should keep relaxing out here for as long as you wanted and he’d get started on preparing things for dinner later. 

He left you with a kiss to your temple and the lingering familiarity of his touch. Handsome and sweet, he was going to be the death of you. 

Your mind felt too restless to keep sitting but you took him up on the suggestion just for awhile longer, trying to find the right way to move things in the direction you wanted. Family dinner wasn’t for another four hours and Ellie would be here a bit early but there was still time and you wanted to make the most of it. 

So you finished off another chapter and finally closed the novel, ushered inside with the echo of birdsongs and the steady thumping of your heart in your ribs. 

–

Joel had been so sure you hadn’t noticed his repeated stares as much as he’d noticed yours, bowing his head under the warm spray of the shower he could only think of how pretty you looked sitting there while he worked, fond of the fact that you liked to be next to him even if he was occupied.  

At first he couldn’t wrap his head around it and was almost too unnerved and bewildered by the fact that you took such an interest. 

Not at all used to someone touching him or looking at him like he was their entire world but that’s the only way you looked at him and as much as he had tried to be measured, tried not to get attached, he had come around to the idea of a relationship again. 

Loving people was frightening, something he felt he’d lost the ability to do properly after all these years, all the blood staining his hands and his conscience.

He had lost so much, seen too much death and feared he would only bring ruin, that he would lose her too, until you came along and turned everything he thought he knew on its head. 

Oh what secrets and stories of loss he had told you in the quiet of night, when old nightmares and new guilts collided and kept him from sleeping though that was much less these days now that you slept by his side every night. 

It had been a long time since he’d shared his bed and now it made him smile thinking of how natural it felt to wake up next to you, how easy it was to be around you, in the quiet moments he could see how the foundations you’d both built together had been made solid and steadfast over time. 

Silly to think how he fretted over ruining his friendship with you all that time ago, the way everyone was sick of him in the days leading up to when he would finally ask if you were interested because they all knew he had nothing to worry about and those worries in his head were swiftly put to rest when you tugged at his shirt to pull him closer and asked what had taken him so long.

He’d never forget that moment. 

Joel thought then that this was the moment he knew but quickly learned there would actually be a collection of moments–several times a day–that would remind him just how hooked on you he really was.

Like the times he showed his age and your sweet giggles and clever retorts always followed soon after, or how much he’s come to love the summertime because your brown skin basked in the sunlight is like art to him and he relishes every chance he gets to see you exactly as you are.

You brought a fullness and meaning to life here, encouraging him to slow down, to breathe. Taking care of one another made him stronger, nourished in ways he didn’t think were possible.  

“Honey.”

He grits the word out like he’s trying to call you up here, reminded of how lucky he felt to have you, to be so connected.

Watching you walk around batting your eyes acting like you don’t know that it’s the pretty, round edges of your nose, the smile lines, the plush of your hips and that glowing thing inside you beating in your chest that drives him crazy. 

Simply put, he was impressed by you. Constantly. You could handle yourself, skilled in your own right, already handy with weapons long before he was in your life and even more proficient now, deadly, with the things he’d taught you since. 

You were resourceful and calm in tricky situations or when quick medical training was needed and yet none of the carnage of infected and worse terrors ever changed the soft way you tended to people, almost like you couldn’t help but give a little extra love. 

And you had certainly spared many an ounce of that love for him; he’d forgotten how good it felt to smile this much over someone, can’t remember the last time he felt this way and definitely can’t remember the last time he’s seen his Ellie look at someone with such admiration either. 

Everything about you captured his attention and he was grateful to be able to live some sort of life again after so much heartache, after believing he could never have these kinds of things for himself. 

Those hands of his could scorch the Earth but you made him understand they could build things too, could show love and give pleasure just as well and just as fiercely. 

Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was doing a good job of it. 

All he knew was that he never wanted to let you go and that was enough for him. 

–

When you venture into the bedroom you find him getting dressed, hair tousled from being towel dried, another wave of aching bloomed in your core as you thank yourself for having nudged him into letting it grow out a bit during the colder months. 

He looked so handsome doing nothing at all in particular you were sure you’d implode if you didn’t just come out with it, you just hope he wouldn’t mind doing some undressing again. 

“Hey, honey.” 

His voice was low and gentle, the familiar pet name in his usual smooth rasp made you stride forward, sending you surging into his arms so that you were squished against his chest. He tilted his head at you just slightly in question before you were pressing your lips to his.

Your mouths met so tenderly at first, fingertips bursting with a nervous energy as they reached for his shirt, grasping needily as you lost yourself in the slow ease of the way he kissed you back.

But a little spark of anxiety makes you tense, overthinking the kiss, feeling a little silly for just how turned on you were, how much he could see it written all over you, dripping quite literally in desperation even if you tried to reason with yourself that you knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that. 

“J-Joel…shit,” you whined and huffed through sloppy kisses, slowly finding yourself being walked backwards and held firm against the closest wall, “Oh…we don’t have to do this if-” 

“The hell are you goin’ on about?” Joel grumbled against the column of your neck and all ability to articulate went out the window.

Rationally you knew it was a pretty good indication he wasn’t bothered by the spontaneity from the way those strong hands of his were already underneath your shirt, pinching almost in the haste to grip your flesh but you were already overthinking and it held persistent. 

“Just…if you’re tired, I understand. We can wait till tonight. I don’t want you to feel obligated.” Your words were huffed out in nervous gasps, trying to will your knees not buckle when his scruff teased a swipe across your jaw. 

Joel pulled back then so you’d have to look at him, knowing the anxious flit of your lashes well. 

He knew what to watch for, patient when you needed reassurance that you were free to run wild with your desires, that he was never tired of having you bare and wrapped around him at any hour of the day but this was of no consequence, he’d make sure you knew where he stood.

Shaking his head, he doesn’t give you more than a moment to suck in a breath before his hands leave your waist to hold your face. 

“So much goddamn talkin’, sweetheart,” the words are a heavy growl against your lips in between heavier kisses, “Think I need to remind you of some things and put those thoughts out of your mind, yeah?” 

Your whole body felt hot, flushed with desire and aching for whatever he was going to do to remind you, nodding before your tongue could catch up with your agreeing thoughts. 

“Let me show you.” Joel caged you in against the wall, broad shoulders blocking everything else out. 

The steady rise and fall of his chest became your focal point and new arousal sparked at his attentiveness, so easily able to soothe, to make you unravel for him. 

“Please, I want you so much.” Your softly sighed plea turned into a whine when you were crushed to his chest again and this time there were no reservations to the embrace.

He was so good at this, making you burn for him so often you wondered sometimes how you were able to get anything done.

Hungry fingers pushed the collar of his flannel back, jeans already unbuttoned for your wandering attention to latch onto and he encouraged it with a push of his hips against yours. 

It’s an easy movement, dropping to your knees like you’ve done a hundred times before to see how just a simple kiss already had him stiff and straining against denim, teasing the kind of thickness you so badly wanted to fill your throat with. 

Your mouth watered, fingers outstretched to wrap around hot skin the moment his cock was free, unable to stop yourself now. Joel’s rough sigh following the steady pump of your hands made you glance up, meeting the intensity of his gaze and you held it there for a moment before your tongue was tasting him. 

“Look at you...already have it in your mouth like the quick learner you are,” He hissed through his teeth and you could feel where he throbs against the hollow of your cheek. 

Pride swells in your chest from the praise, knowing the tone of his voice meant the restrained edge of patience from letting you tease him back was slipping.

You could feel it in the flex of muscle underneath your hands where they’re braced on his thighs and you hoped he was proud watching your lips stretch around him, head bobbing nice and easy the way you know he liked it.

You’re unconcerned with being neat about it, slicking him up with your mouth and still trying to take him deeper, trying to take all of him in fact. 

You liked to flirt with dreams of your nose being pressed snug against Joel’s pelvis, wanted to feel him through your entire chest even if burned because there was sweetness in being deprived of oxygen like that. Call it an unwavering trust. 

You gave in to the feeling and kept your eyes focused upwards on him, trying to relax your jaw despite all the anticipation, happy to let him take control. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl. Stay just like that.” 

Listening is hardly even a thought when you’ve hung onto his every word, every movement, not minding the strain in your jaw as he rocked his hips into the wet heat of your mouth. Tongue swirling over his shaft, the thick head of him, desperate to earn it, to make him curse and growl out your name. 

The pressure of his fingers against your jaw and then the back of your head had you moaning, trying to speak while he fucks your mouth. 

“P-please, make me take it.” Your heart lept with each languid thrust of his hips sliding deep so he could feel the softening of your throat.

He’d give you whatever you asked for when you whimpered like that. 

Firm and sweet was his grip, raspy grunts and cursed out praises that flowed from his mouth even sweeter to your ears as your tongue slid over the soft, sensitive head of his cock and back down the length of him. 

You’re insatiable and any anxious thoughts still rattling around in your mind were quickly fading, replaced with his touch, his smell, his taste. The salty smear on your taste buds had you pressing your thighs together, craving relief.

“Good girl, yeah that’s it. Startin’ to understand now, sweetheart?” 

Your head tipped forward and the only response you could give was a heady moan, doing your best to nod knowing how much he’d like seeing that, the tears already welling along your lashes from the effort but you didn’t mind.

Knowing you made him tip his head back, a heavy palm braced against the wall above your head while he grunted out curses and filthier praise made you feel a dozen more times ravenous, encouraging him to keep going with sloppy, wet whimpers that were barely held back from your kiss swollen lips, stretched over every thick inch of him you could take. 

“Love watching you choke on it, honey. Fuck that's good, show me how much you can fit.” 

The sight of him is something you hoped to never forget, searching for and finding the slight snarl of his lips when the tip hits the back of your mouth and the flex of his biceps when you slide your tongue around to lick the underside of him. 

Joel could barely hold himself back, the urge to bury himself in your throat almost overwhelming but he wanted more than that, he wanted to reward you for listening so well, for how much you make him feel.  

It had been building all day and he knew you had to feel it too. He was loath to pull you off his cock, an ache through his chest at your desperate cries from the loss of contact but he was quick to remedy that with a searing kiss.  

You melt and are grateful your knees are already on the floor when your tongue meets his. It was so messy, hungry and neither of you cared. 

“Get on the bed. Go on, darlin’.” Joel’s voice sounded like warm syrup, covering you in adoring instruction, taking you and leading you where he knows is best. 

And god do you love when he was in this mood, nothing but a filthy edge to his affections. 

So you complied, ignoring the twinge in your tummy as you moved to the bed, sprawling out across sheets that smell like the both of you. 

He watches you get comfortable, loosening a few buttons and those jeans finally discarded on the floor before the distance is closed and he’s all over you. 

Every touch and caress was intentional as he undresses like he’s unwrapping a present, greedy for all of you but so passionate, so easily able to steal your breath at the same time, slowing down the tempo now that your legs have fallen open and there’s nothing left covering you. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy…and she’s all mine.” Joel admires you for a moment, firm hands tickling your thighs while his thumbs circled the soft, sensitive junction of your thigh so close to where you wanted him most. 

The praise has you sighing breathlessly, peeking down to see the way he was looking at where you glisten, a sureness to his features that made you feel safe all while the clench of his jaw sent goosebumps across your arms.

You want to echo that he’s right but he doesn’t let you have the chance, a broad palm sliding down over the hair covering your mound, tugging at it gently before two thick fingers are swirling over your folds. 

Muscles jolting, you were rocking up into a touch that is so expert and familiar you are helpless against it.

“Joel, oh! That feels so good,” You’re panting, trying to catch your breath while your body responds to the tight circles he was rubbing against your clit.

“Yeah? ‘Can tell. You’re so slick, honey. Did suckin’ me off get you this worked up?” 

Your nod is pure reflex, hips grinding against his movements needing to chase the pleasure that was slowly oozing its way into your system. 

It’s only something he can do and he’s so steady, so thorough with you even as you squirm, those two fingers now stroking at your entrance eliciting sounds that sparked heat in your cheeks and spread down to your chest. 

You want to be as connected to him as you can, almost pleading for him to sink inside you already just desperate to feel completely surrounded by him. 

And Joel can’t seem to grasp enough of you under his hands, gone for the way you cling to him as he fits his middle finger inside, marveling at the way your walls take him in. 

He would never get over your strangled little cry at being stretched around his knuckles. 

“I asked a question, lemme hear you.” He spoke a little more loosely, his Texan drawl slightly heavier now. 

“Yes, yes,” you’re remembering yourself after a moment, “Fuck, yes I love sucking your dick.” 

The words are shameless, falling from your lips as a promise, a proclamation that you know he feels the weight of when he leans in to kiss you again, muffling your sounds while he slides a second finger in alongside the first that’s filling you so perfectly. 

Any concept of time or day is somewhere in the background muted, far away and suddenly you know you’re right where you should be, right where you belong, no traces of anxious thoughts lurking any longer.   

You could sink into these sensations now, enjoying how his kisses had moved to your neck exploring the sensitive spots and smiling against your skin when a new one is found because he loves feeling you clench around him when he does. 

It’s a gift to Joel, being able to draw out this kind of bliss in you. 

He wanted you to feel good, wanted to be the one to make your world shatter and then piece it back together again when you came down to the ground. 

Your eyes rolled shut when he plunged deeper, the pads of his fingers massaging at your walls in tandem with what his mouth was doing between the valley of your chest and further down to where your stomach fluttered. 

Somewhere in the haze of it all you realize his mouth was at your thighs, the white hot touch of his lips closing around a stretch of supple flesh bringing another wave of heat before he’s licking gently, bruising a mark into your skin that only he will know is there later. 

“I could spend hours like this, you know that? Could have you makin’ such a pretty mess all over my hands, all over our bed…and I know you love when I do this.” Joel husks before he’s finally tasting you properly. 

He starts at your clit, tongue flattened against you in anticipation of the inevitable flex of your legs, determined to keep you right where he wants and you’re already so far gone for him and this moment that your head tilts back against the pillows in a gasp. 

You feel almost weightless as you succumb to the pleasure and how he presses his mouth into your pussy like he wants to devour it. You’re sure you’d let him swallow you whole if it kept feeling like this. 

It’s not even a question really, you know you would, until you’re between sinew and bone and part of him forever. 

The plunge and curl of his fingers combined with the flick of his tongue had you panting, heat skittering across your body while your hips circled on their own accord.

“More! Please, Joel!” It’s a chant and a sob all rolled in one and you don’t care how needy it sounds. 

He keeps going, lapping at your sex greedily until you’re clenching down around his fingers and your toes are curling, crying out for him not to stop as you hurtle towards the cliff’s edge.

Skin dewy and alive, you decide that you don’t want to spare anything, not when he’s watching you as hungrily as he eats. 

You give him all your sounds, all your pleas, handing him your body and your heart at once. 

It’s amazing how it doesn’t take long for him to have you so close, right at the precipice, forgoing his own breaths to keep pace, to give you what your body is singing out for and when you finally let go, when your orgasm is finally coaxed from you he only presses his face into you further, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could in hopes of seeing that soft sweet look in your eyes afterwards.

“Attagirl, doin so well.” The words are a tether. 

He’d take care of you and that’s perhaps what made it so easy to surrender yourself to the passion of the moment knowing it would linger long after you were both spent. 

“Mmm you should see yourself right now,” Joel hummed, licking his lips while you attempted to catch your breath, “I always want you, don’t forget that yeah?” 

The last part catches your attention through the curtain of bliss, a serious shift in his tone telling you that he meant every word; you had no reason to second guess yourself over your desires and he was making sure of that. 

You nodded and sat up to reach for him, nevermind how you still trembled, your desire to be close to him was stronger than ever now. 

“I need you, Joel! Please, I’ve been so good…” Your words tug at him, you can tell they do by the way he ruts his hips against the edge of the bed. 

He crushed his mouth to yours before you could finish speaking, a much welcome relief, the burning flame inside you quelled for a moment. 

“Sure have been, honey and I think good girls should be rewarded.” He nipped at your ear, stealing your breath with his words. 

And even further when his flannel joined his jeans on the floor, climbing back onto the bed to follow the path of your body with his own, framing your limbs and wrapping you up in his embrace like you were made to fit against his chest. 

Your legs fall open again to wrap around his waist as he settles some of his weight down against your hips, just giving you a taste, calling back memories and reminding you, funnily enough, of that novel you were reading earlier. 

It felt like you were suddenly amongst the pages, chest heaving, your core tender and dripping as the man of your dreams was about to show you how much you’re his in every way.

Fairytales didn’t exist in this world but you felt like you were in one right now.

A giddy and timid smile spread across your face when Joel trailed warm hands down your body, catching on the bend of your elbow, wrapping around your ribcage to settle on the crest of your ass as he puts more of his weight down and uses his shoulders to nudge your legs apart and back towards your chest. 

The air felt thicker but your breathing seemed to even out, everything in your body thrumming with energy and an intensity neither of you could ignore any longer. 

Reaching down between your bodies you wrap a hand around where he’s thick and throbbing, guiding him closer with a soft smile, feeling how heavy he hangs in your hand, fingers pinching his skin when he rocks against your folds, the dirty sounds of his cock gliding through your stickiness. 

Joel groans against your forehead, holding himself steady as your hips buck into his touch, the tip pressing against your entrance and finally, slowly, sinking inside. 

Your moans are twined together in the quiet room. The stretch makes you keen, hands fumbling and grasping at strong shoulders, grateful he lets you have a moment to adjust. 

But it’s not long before you’re squirming again, whining for him to go deeper, to fill you to the hilt and he made good on his promises to do exactly that. 

He keeps your hips tilted up with the press of his palm underneath you, meeting little resistance the more he splits you open and it does something to him to see how much of a mess you are and he’s barely fucked you yet. 

“You can do it, know you can…there you go.” Joel pulls back to give a shallow thrust, lips brushing your temple and a hand coming up to cradle your cheek. 

The drag of his cock against your walls was everything, steady thrusts building up the tension coiling in your belly, fantasies from your novel melding with reality.

You felt like you were floating, your toes pointing when he changed the angle, brushing against a spot that had you crying out, ankles trying to lock around his torso.

Pressing heavier and faster with his hips however, your legs stay spread, the beginnings of a tremble rippling through your muscles now that he’s caught on. 

His pace remained measured and deep, just the way you were begging for it, and he’s content to watch your brows pinch, your jaw slacken, content to hear every gasp of air and pretty sobs  mixed in with your moans driving him crazy every time they slip from clenched teeth. 

“Shit, I love watching you take me like this.” He cooed. 

You can feel the heavy slap of his balls colliding with your ass when he pounds into you again and soon your hands slip from sweaty skin, scratching down his chest to pull at the sheets, so overwhelmed with feeling but never wanting it to stop.

“Daddy...Please, please keep going.”

You’re so caught up in the moment you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud, glassy eyes moving up from where you were trying to peek between your bodies to meet Joel’s careful gaze, only half registering how they widen for a moment. 

He’s taken aback for just a second, almost questioning whether he heard it correctly but something’s been knocked loose within him now, his cock twitching from the reverence and adoration in your tone, bestowing him with a title he suddenly wanted to earn. 

Joel was a grown man and had lived through many hells to be able to have you bare and underneath him like this, he reasoned he deserved to have a little fun in the bedroom especially when he hadn’t expected to be so affected.

“Ah so that’s what you’ve been reading in that book of yours. Just wanted Daddy to fuck you all day is that it, sweetheart? Yeah, I gotcha now.” He rasped low against the crook of your neck and started to fuck you harder. 

His grip on you was less gentle but still just as passionate, the force of his thrusts stealing your ability to think properly. He wanted to make you say it again. 

The burning in your cheeks only subsided a little at his acceptance, more heat flooding you from head to toe at being called out, wondering how he knew it was something you read in your novel, if it had been that obvious. 

It didn’t matter now, you see where his dark eyes have narrowed, ready to make you come again with this newfound discovery. 

So you try and be good for him while you moan and clench down on his length, your pussy swollen and aching but tingling for everything he could give you, “Yes, daddy! Just…oh! I couldn’t help it. Thank you, daddy!” 

He knows you’re close, a familiar frenzy to your breathing, the slick wet sounds between your legs, it’s everything he dreams of and more, torn between watching your face as you come or watching the way his cock shines with your release. 

With a few more strokes and the soft rubbing of his thumb against your clit you shatter, face pressing against the meat of his shoulder while you ride it out, feeling weightless in his embrace. 

It makes you giggle when you can’t keep your head up any longer, neck lolling back against the pillow where he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you in place as he finds his own release swiftly after yours, pulling out to cover your puffy folds in hot ropes of his come. 

You would never tire of being made a mess, even if you knew you’d be sore tomorrow, nothing quite ever beat the feeling of being fucked out like the way Joel could have you.

“Baby…” you’re breathless and bursting with emotion, “Thank you for that. Think I really needed it,” You laugh against his chest and sigh.

You’re almost too nervous still to look at him after your slip of the tongue but you know deep down there’s nothing you have to be worried about. 

“Of course, honey. Anytime, and I mean that.” 

–

You’re not sure how much time has passed, drifting in and out of a dreamy slumber still cradled against Joel, only now you realize you’ve been cleaned up and tucked under the covers but you don’t mind, you know you can simply lay here and soak it all in, he would take care of you. 

Racing thoughts no longer buzz around in your head, all you can feel and see is Joel and you smile to yourself knowing the intimacy you just shared still lingered in your body, love etched in your fingertips where they’re laced in his hand against his stomach. 

His lips press against your temple and you close your eyes again letting yourself be swept away with the sweet drawl of an “I love you.” in your ears and the gentle evening sun warming you both.

—

A/N: This was actually lowkey inspired by that scene where Joel is leading Ellie, Henry and Sam down the street after they come out of the tunnels and Joel just shakes his head and goes “so much goddamn talkin’.’ while looking like an annoyed father because they’re all being too loud…got very hung up on that bit of dialogue and could not let it go so here we are!

Also hope I added the daddy kink bit here in tastefully, it’s a fave of mine and I struggled a bit to think of how to incorporate it in a way that felt real for Joel so I only just dipped my toe in with it here but I hope you liked it! 👀

Thank you for reading <3

some no pressure tags! 💫 @eupheme @ozarkthedog @moreofem @tinydramatist @black-fairy3 @federalchickensoup @fluffyprettykitty @persona-enthusiast @moonstruksandco @ghotifishreads @communism-bitches

[aspiringtrashpanda]

✨MC teaches the brothers about "jinx"✨

“I’m kinda hungry,” you voiced, your Curses and Hexes homework doing little to retain your attention. 

Mammon snorted in response, not bothering to look up from his D.D.D. “Who are ya? Beel?”  

You waited a second before retaliating, hoping that someone would come to your defense. Alas, it seemed that the brothers lounging around you had long learned to tune out any word from Mammon’s lips.  

“I have basic needs like all of you too, you know,” you huffed, gesturing to the Avatar of Gluttony, cross-legged on the carpet next to you.  The warmth from the fireplace at your backs cast flickering light over the crinkled chip bag in his massive hand. “Eating isn’t trademarked by Beel.” 

Beel grunted, sharp snaps sounding from the rhythmic churn of his jaw.  

Levi’s handheld console let out a chime that signaled some sort of victory. “It’s only, like, his whole personality lmao.” 

Beel’s chewing paused, but Asmo swooped in first. “There’s more to Beel than food,” he cooed, “I mean, look at those sculpted muscles! He’s also the most handsome little brother~ ♡ ”  

“Gee, thanks Asmo,” grumbled the lump of blankets on the couch.  

“Aw Belphie, don’t be like that! I like your slender physique, too!” 

Somehow, the mound of linens seemed to shudder in distaste. Asmo only shrugged, losing himself in his hand mirror.  

“Asmo is right though,” Satan hummed, turning the page of his current book – A Comprehensive Guide to the Devildom’s Most Toxic Plants, “To define Beel as solely a glutton does little to recognize all his positive characteristics.”  

Beel swallowed, before flashing a dazzling beam. “Thanks, Satan.”   

The living room fell silent once more, save for Beel’s snacking and the crackling of the hearth.  

“Hey!” You thought you’d try again. “Know what I could go for right now?” 

You paused for anticipation, readying your answer. 1, 2, 3 and... 

“Hell’s Kitchen.” 

Your spine went ramrod straight, eyes locking onto Mammon in the split second after your voices had harmonized.  

“Jinx!” You gasped, “You owe me a soda!”  

“Huh?” Mammon blinked owlishly.  

“Jinx!” Your enthusiasm was lost on your company. Your neck cracked as you glanced from brother to brother, your grin dampening when they looked at you as though you’d grown a second head.  

Satan frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

“Is that some normie saying?” Though he sneered, there was curiosity in Levi’s eyes.  

“You don’t have jinx here?” You barreled onward, explaining, “It’s a game we play in the human world when two people say the same thing at the same time.” 

“How does it work?” Asmo pursed his lip, which only drew his attention to his shade of lip gloss, his mirror capturing his eyes once more.  

You shrugged, “There are various versions of the game. Sometimes, the loser can’t speak until they buy the victor a drink. Other times, they’re silenced until their name is uttered aloud 3 times.”

Mammon lunged forward, toppling off the couch as he rushed on all fours to where you sat on the carpet. Before he could protest, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger, you placed a finger to his lips. 

“Nope! Not ‘til you buy me a Devil Cola!”  

“LOL!” Levi rejoiced, “Mammon, you’re such a n00b!” 

You weren’t the only one who noticed the way Mammon’s eyes brightened, Satan chiding, “Watch it. You can’t say his name or he’s freed, remember?” 

“Oh~ I wonder how long he can hold his tongue?” Asmo giggled, finally distracted from his mirror. You couldn’t blame him. Mammon’s expression was a cross between anguished and constipated.  

His jaw clenching, slivers of his teeth glinting through curled lips, you could feel the irritation radiating from the Avatar of Greed. Absently, you considered if you should tell him it wasn’t an actual curse. Did he know there was no power other than himself silencing him?  

“Can he eat?” Beel inquired, genuine concern mingling with sympathy as he watched his older brother straighten up and march towards the entrance hall.  

“You don't need to speak to eat,” Belphie's muffled voice reasoned beneath the blankets.

“HEY MAMS!” You called to his back, shoulders curled up to his ears in anger, “Buy me a Devil Cola, won’t you?"

And really, you hadn’t expected him to follow through at all. He left the room and you returned to your homework. Beel continued eating, Belphie continued sleeping, and Satan continued reading for the sole purpose of poisoning Lucifer, you were sure. 

About thirty minutes passed before you heard the door to the Hall of Lamentation creak open.  

“No way!” Asmo squealed, a shutter sounding before Mammon could sprint to the couch and swat the D.D.D. from his freshly manicured hands.

Your jaw hit the floor as you looked up at the second born, at the condensation dripping down the can of soda that he thrust in your face. A petulant pout only brightened his blush, the way his eyes looked anywhere but you. The red tint to his skin darkened as his brothers laughed, jeered, teased him.  

The least you could do was offer him some praise. You smiled with all your teeth, “Thanks Mammon! The jinx is lifted.” 

He scowled, waving off your gratitude with an unnecessarily noisy exhale. With his newfound freedom, he instantly started pestering Asmo, critiquing his most recent Devilgram selfies. As your heart swelled with affection, the words in your textbook falling on blind eyes too occupied by the tiniest movements of your family, you felt completely at ease.  

You didn’t think you needed to elaborate, to clarify that you had used your pact and that there was no real magic behind the jinx. 

However, when you entered the House of Lamentation two weeks later, you realized you had been very wrong. 

The living room was a disaster, pillows tossed this way and that, candle wax oozing across something that looked suspiciously like a summoning circle. Splintered wood littered the carpet, broken chairs in a mangled pile next to the hearth. You were pretty sure you could smell something burning.  

You nearly dropped the bag of groceries in your arms, Beel stock still at your side. One look at your shopping buddy told you he had no idea what was going on, concern blazing to life in his purple eyes. 

“Lucifer?!” He called out, immediately seeking reassurance. 

Instead of the eldest’s smooth drawl, you were met with an incomprehensible shriek from somewhere in the kitchen. A clatter of pots and pans. A crash.  

Belphie came sauntering into the room, nodding in greeting. “The jinx didn’t work.” 

“What?!” You gawked, surveying the damage to the room, “What is going on?!” 

“He could still talk!” Satan fumed, stomping out of the kitchen with his bony tail lashing back and forth, “So I cursed him, but then that asshole reflected it, and it hit Asmo instead.” 

Sure enough, a completely drenched Avatar of Lust was next to appear, his mouth moving a mile a minute and yet, not a single sound to be heard. He tossed his hands in the air, hissing something fierce before flicking a wet strand of hair from his face.  

“And Asmo tried to charm Mammon to speak for him,” Satan was still ranting, “but Mammon tried to charge him for his services, which then set Levi off about repayment with interest.” 

You hugged the groceries tighter to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you realized you knew exactly what was happening in the kitchen. You heard the roar, the rumble of the house’s foundation, the continuous rush of water drowning out twin shouts you had heard far too many times before. 

But not as many times as the one voice that rose above them all.  

“MAMMOOOON?!” 

You winced. You’d have to buy your first a Devil Cola later.  

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

technically mammon was the one to provoke levi to summon lotan, so rip buddy. but let's be real, they're all getting punished.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. READ MORE HERE.

[gaysindistress]

gif credits to @sebastianstannibal

Here's part two to the fake dating drabble I wrote for @bucks-and-noble's Valentrope fest

warnings: smut and lowkey violence but not to f!reader. plain and simple this is porn. please do not read if you're a minor.

bucky's masterlist | main masterlist

“I’m apologizing right now for what you’re about to walk into.”

Bucky clears his throat and readjusts in the driver’s seat as we slowly drive down the long driveway lined with manicured hedges. 

“What are you talking about?” 

The wedding that I dragged him to is for a friend that Bucky isn’t particularly fond of, something I neglected to mention but I knew he wouldn’t agree if I told him. Honestly I’m surprised that he hasn’t caught on yet with how many signs we’ve passed on the way to the venue. He’s been rather distracted stealing glances at me. 

“Aw fuck,” he curses when he finally does see the biggest sign yet. “This is Maisie’s wedding, isn’t it?”

Cocking my head at him, I bat my lashes and pout my lips, “Forgive me?”

He inhales sharply. Against his better judgment, glances at my glossy lips and then to my chest. The sweetheart neckline as well as the bias cut of my navy dress is exactly why I chose to wear it. Bucky’s always had a wandering eye when it comes to ‘an angel in the flesh’ as he puts it but right now it’s down right sinful. He’s eyeing me like the Devil lurks beneath his matching navy Armani suit and he’s ready to devour me whole. 

“You owe me after this,” he finally says with a dramatic sigh. 

The ceremony went exactly how I imagined it would ourlPampas grass, dried sage, and red flora that I’ve never seen before covers every inch of the aisle as well as every other surface. Burnt orange cheesecloths drape from the trees, the six different wood arches, and run across all of the tables. The signs that Maisie definitely had her bridal party help her make are everywhere and written on them are sayings that Bucky can’t stop making jokes about. 

“Babe, I can’t make this up. That sign says ‘This way to buffet, booze, and bad dance moves.’ What ring of hell is this?”

“Oh my god, Bucky, you need to shut up. These are the type of people to say ‘bless your heart’ and pray for god to smite you in your sleep,” I whisper to him. I loop my arm around his and he’s quick to put his hand over the top of mine on his bicep. 

“If it gets me away from this place, then I’d welcome it.”

I roll my eyes at him and keep us moving towards the open field where the reception is at. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” 

I tense beside my fake boyfriend and hesitantly look over my shoulder to see the one person I did not expect to see here; my ex boyfriend Marc. 

“If that’s who I think that is,” Bucky grumbles and curses under his breath when he sees who it is. “I’m going to kill Maisie. Why would she invite that cunt?”

“Bucky, behave.” I mumble to him and turn to greet this cunt, “Marc, hi how are you?”

The first thing he does is look me up and down, eyes lingering on my chest just as I expected. Bucky’s arm slips from mine and finds its way around my waist where he tugs me into his side and squeezes my hip. Marc smirks at his actions as he finally makes eye contact with me. 

“I’m good. I see your dog finally worked up the courage...”

Bucky cuts him by clearing his throat, “You’d do well to remember that this ‘dog’ isn’t with a bite.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Have the evening you deserve,” I tell him before I drag Bucky away and towards whatever shit bar they have. 

The dog on my arm has other plans and pulls me off to the side where there’s just a tree with even more cheesecloth swinging in the wind. He glances around to make sure no one is around before letting his hardened demeanor fall away and to reveal the adorable face he makes when he’s stressed. It’s not healthy to think that someone in a vulnerable state is ‘adorable’ but I can’t help it when his brows furrows together, his jaw tenses, and he looks at me with all the concern in the world. 

“Doll I need you to be honest with me right now; how many more people like that am I going to run into at this thing?” 

That concern has morphed into something darker and it has me straightening my back, squaring my shoulders, and my thighs clenching. 

“Well I didn’t know that he…” I trail off as Bucky draws closer. His blue eyes are piercing into the fabric of my soul the closer he gets to me and I find myself backing up to get away. Rough bark scratches at my back and my hair gets tangled into it as I crane my head up to look at the mob boss. 

“I’m going to have to stop you there. Who else could be here?” 

Chest heaving and breathing short, I shake my head at him. “I don’t know. I didn't see anyone else.”

A hand finds its way to my jaw and the other plants itself against the tree next to my head. He tilts my chin up and ghosts his lips over mine while calling me a good girl. My eyes flutter shut at the name and his low voice. 

“Tell me your rules again.” He pulls away from me and watches me with hooded eyes as I glare at him. 

“No kissing, minimal touching, and no violence,” I spit out at him. 

“I think,” he starts, letting his eyes flicker to my parted lips as his thumb rubs under them, “we should revise them a bit.”

“What do you propose they be then?”

“No violence is changed to only when necessary,” his thumb presses into my bottom lip. “Minimal touching becomes whatever I see fit,” it pulls my lip down slightly. “And no kissing goes away altogether,” it slips into my mouth and I greedily wrap my lips around it, sucking at it while he lets out a shuddered breath. 

I let it go with a pop and a thin line of spit breaks after his thumb comes to rest on my chin. 

“What do you say, doll?”

Pushing away from the tree, I grip the lapels of his jacket and pull him flush against my chest. I push up onto my toes and flick his earlobe with my tongue before whispering, “this is all fake. You don’t get to change the rules because you don’t like them. They stay exactly as they are.”

The look of determination set on his face is immensely satisfying especially. I’ve seen how his past girls have completely submitted to him, allowing him to control every aspect of their relationship because that’s how he likes it. Bucky is a man that needs to feel powerful and stable at all times and that extends to even the smallest things. Many of our nights out have been ruined for some reason or another. Most of the time I don’t even know why, just that I’m being shuffled out the back door with a circle of heavily armed men around me while Bucky deals with the mistake. 

“I know you’re not a gambler, my sweet y/n but I’d like to make a bet with you.”

I quirk a brow, “what kind of bet?”

“If you haven’t broken your rules by the end of the night, I’ll take you to Greece. If you break or even bend them, you have to go on a date with me.”

My hands stop brushing down his lapels and I stare blankly at him. “Greece and Italy. For three weeks.”

“Whatever you want, doll but,” he warns me with a finger raised between us and points it at me, “you can’t break your rules even a little bit.” 

I snap at him, pretending to bite his finger and he yanks it back with a smile. “You have a bet but keep your finger to yourself.” 

Bucky nods with a smile still wide on his stunning face. He backs up, giving me space to make myself presentable again before taking us back to the reception. It’s already turned into an event of debauchery and sin with guests taking shots, hitting pens, and forming a grinding circle on the dance floor. 

Maisie finds me within moments and screams as she races over to me. 

“Y/n babe! Oh my god! You’re here!” She shrieks and pulls me into a bone crushing hug. She has two shots in her hand and they nearly spill on my back but somehow the drink girl prevents that from happening. 

Bucky chuckles before leaving us to go find drinks. Maisie shoots him a dirty glare before it turns into a drink smile and she’s vibrating with glee. 

I arch a brow at her, “what was that for?”

She blinks at me. “What was what?”

“That look you gave him.”

“Ohhhhh,” she sighs and shoves a shot into my hand, “that. You know I don’t like him and now you guys are dating and ugh. He’s always such an ass and controlling and moody and I don’t understand what you see in him. He’s a dick and I just..”

“Okay okay, I get it. You don’t like him,” I roll my eyes at her, “but you said the same thing about Marc and he’s here.”

“No, there's a difference. Jake and him are friends. Also are you really arguing with me at my wedding? That’s really fucking rude,” Maisie tries to sound stern but giggles slip out between her words and her smile breaks her expression. “Come on! Come have fun with me. I wanna dance and drink and have fun! Take your shot, you pussy!” 

I playfully growl at her before we both throw back the tequila shots. Before I can say something smart back, she has an iron grip on my wrist and is dragging me to the dance floor. The music pounds so loud that I feel it in my chest, worming its way around my body and getting me high off the adrenaline. Unable to feel the difference between my heartbeat and the bass, I allow it to overcome me as Maisie starts to bounce and sway in front of me. It’s as if the deep vibrations of the music are controlling and contorting our bodies in whatever way it sees fit. My eardrums feel like they might burst but the tequila is hitting faster than I thought it would and my only concern is dancing. 

I find myself so completely entranced with the music, the drinking, and Maisie’s chaotic dancing that I don’t notice the big hands that find my waist. They pull me backwards causing my back to hit a solid body and the smell of familiar expensive cologne washes over me. Maisie grins as her new husband does the same to her and she turns her head so they can kiss like sloppily teenagers. The hands at my waist start to guide my hips into a lazy grind against theirs. Maisie’s overwhelming perfume masks the differences in the one behind me so much that I don’t even notice that it’s not the same as the one Bucky wears. Where I should be smelling Tom Ford’s Tobacco Vanille, Blue de Chanel is in its place. 

My eyes flutter closed and my head drops back against the chest behind me. There’s a rumbling at my back from the chuckle that this man lets out. One of his hands leaves my waist and trails up until it’s resting on my neck. Cradling my jaw, he softly kisses under my ear before whispering, “you finally escaped your dog?”

I hear Maisie say my name and she draws my focus from the man behind me to her. She’s offering her hand out to me as she rubs her nose. There’s a thin white line across the top of her hand and her thumb.

“Maisie, is that coke?” I hiss at her and try to pull away from my dance partner. He doesn’t let me and I whip around to see that it’s Marc. The cologne makes sense now and I rip his hands off of me, “Jesus Christ get away from me!”

“Oh my god, calm down. You’re so dramatic sometimes,” Maisie whines before snorting the line she’d offered me. 

Marc’s heated stare starts to get under my skin and a shutter races through me before I can stop it. My eyes frantically scan the crowd, searching for the oceanic ones that I see in my dreams every night. 

They find me in moments. 

A mix of emotions floods me as we lock eyes; first a wave of relief quickly followed by fear. Even from this distance I can see the tension in his shoulders, the muscle feathering in his jaw, the scowl set on his face, and the dead look in his eyes that he only gets when murder is on his mind. 

Marc yanks me back into him and the countless memories of arguments and bitter looks rush back to me. When we dated he knew exactly how to piss me off, how to push every button I had and get under my skin. He would challenge me any chance he got, making me feel small and insignificant. He would say the cruelest things to invade my mind and destroy my self esteem. 

“Stop fucking around, Marc.” Bucky sighs with a deep set scowl as he comes to stand before us. “Let go of her and I’ll think about letting you keep your hands.”

Marc’s grip tightens around my bicep as he scoffs, “oh I’m so scared. The big bad wolf is threatening me, whatever ever am I going to do? Fuck off Barnes.”

The crowd around us is none the wiser to the chaos that is about to erupt and quite frankly I don’t even think I know what’s about to happen. Maisie’s husband pulls her away when she tries to step between the three of us and keeps her against him. Bucky dips his head and rubs at his eyes as he lets out another annoyed sigh. He mumbles ‘alright’ as her his breath before flipping back his suit jacket, reading behind himself, and producing his favored Glock 19. It’s aimed directly at the invisible red mark between Marc’s eyes and my ex immediately drops me in favor of throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Now step back,” Bucky utters as he slowly stalks towards us. I side step as best as I can to get out of the way.  Marc does as he’s told and of course Bucky needs to pour salt in the wound. “The next time I see you I won’t give you a warning.”

Neither man moves until Bucky pretends to lunge forward and Marc stumbles backwards to get away. He turns his attention to Maisie while he tucks his gun away and extends a hand out to me. 

“And you,” he starts with a sharp nod to her, “you do something like that again and I’ll wire your husband’s balls to a railroad track, do you understand me?”

“Bucky,” I whisper to him with a light pull on his hand but he doesn’t budge. 

“Do you understand me?” He repeats and Maisie nods frantically while her husband looks pale and like he might throw up. 

“Bucky,” I try again and he glances at me before squeezing my hand and leading me away. 

“Excuse me!” I try again and come to a complete halt once the wedding is behind us. My hand slips from his and so does my sense of safety. Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment at my tone before going back to their usual dead expression. 

He sets off in a near jog to the car, leaving me behind. “You fucking prick,” I curse before running to catch up with him. I grab his arm and force him to stop. “What the fuck was that back there?”

I apparently didn’t realize how close we were because when he turns around, we’re chest to chest. His nose is flared from how hard he’s breathing and his eyes are piercing as he stares down at me. 

“No one,” he whispers as he leans into me, “gets to treat you like that.”

“I know but no violence was one of my rules and you…”

He cuts me off, “Doll, I’m not the man you seem to think I am. Who I am around you, how I act around you is not the same man everyone else sees. I wash the blood off of my hands before I visit you because I don’t want my girl to be tainted by the shit I do. I change suits so that you don’t smell the stench of guns and filth that permeates my business meetings. I keep men assigned to you around the clock so that no one gets close to you without me knowing. The man I am with you, y/n, is someone that no one else gets to see and that's the way I want to be. I don’t you to know the Bucky that my men know and that’s why I let you drag me here as your fake boyfriend and agree to your silly fucking rules. I respected the fact that you didn’t want to change them and I was fully prepared to bite my tongue but then Marc put his hands on you. That was unacceptable and I should’ve shot him right then and there but I didn’t because you would’ve never forgiven me. I can live without a lot but you aren’t someone I’m willing to give up.”

My eyes flicker to his lips, betraying my need to maintain control over my emotions and the situation. My hands drift up his arm and stop on his chest. His heart thumps steadily against my hand despite his confession and the night in general. 

“I’m not willing to give you up either,” I cooed and pulled him down into a passionate kiss before he could stop me. He grunts in surprise before kissing me back with equal fire and cradling my face in his hands. 

He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, “You owe me a date.”

“Fuck off,” I mumble back and dive back into a searing kiss. His hands find my waist and pin me against him, causing his hard bulge to press into my abdomen. I can feel myself start to grow wet as he head dips down to press kisses along the curve of my neck. I inhale sharply, craning my neck further to the side to allow him more access. His lips latch onto my pulse point as my fingers lace into his hair, tugging at the short styled strands. 

A particularly sharp tug causes him to groan against my skin and he pulls away to meet my lustful gaze.

“Backseat now,” he orders while taking a step back. It doesn't register what he means at first but another step away and reality sets in. I take my heels off, keeping our eyes locked as I slip off my birthday present from him last year. 

“Doll,” he says slowly, “I said…”

“I heard what you said,” I throw over my shoulder as I strut past him and towards his car. 

The second I open the car door his hands are gripping my waist to hoist me inside as he climbs in behind me. Bucky moves me to sit on his lap and he silences any chance of me arguing with a hungry kiss. His hands burn as they knead and grope at the silk of my dress, desperately searching for a handful of me as he licks at my lips to let his tongue in. His lips are soft, a beautiful surprise as his calloused hands as they slide against my own, no doubt smearing my lipstick all over. 

Finally fed up with the silky fabric of my dress, his hands find their way under where he grabs a handful of my ass. The feeling of his warm hand against the slivers of skin that peak through my lace underwear causes us both to moan. The sound has me unbuttoning his jacket and shoving it off his shoulders before moving to his shirt. One of his hands stays on my ass, beginning to knead it as the other attempts to find the zipper at my back. 

“Shit Doll,” he moans out as my cold hands get his shirt undone and explore the expanse of his chest. He bucks up into me and I break the kiss to dive my head down to his neck to place open-mouthed kisses there. Breathless moans and sighs fall from his lips as our hips move in sync. 

The strong hand that is on my ass has migrated from groping the supple fat to playing with the waistband on my panties. He lifts his hips to sit lower in the seat and spreads his legs, prying mine apart in the process. Those thick digits slip down until they find the wet heat he’s caused. His palm cups me entirely and I whimper against his neck at the feeling. 

“Fuck, don’t tell me you’re this wet because i threatened that cunt?” 

All I can do is gasp when he pushes aside my panties and runs his middle finger through my folds. It slips between my folds and I curse his name. My back arches in as he runs another finger through them and spreads the wetness around my clit. 

“Yes, oh my god, yes,” I pant out. If it wasn’t for his fingers pushing into me, I would’ve been horrified at the desperate desire that’s ripping wanton moans from my swollen lips. 

The feeling of his thick fingers scissoring as his thumb finds my clit causes me to moan into his mouth. The familiar tightening in my stomach is building until it crashes over me while gasps and quiet chants of his name mark the beginning of the end. I clench around his fingers as my eyes flutter shut and I allow myself to fall into the blinding white light that’s consuming me. He removes his hands from my core to grip my hips again. 

I lean in for a deep kiss as my hips start to rock against his clothed cock, grinding my sensitive clit over him with a gasp. One of my hands finds his belt and quickly unbuckles it before diving in his pants to find his cock.  Bucky lets out a shuddering sigh at the feeling of my hand gripping him and giving him a few tugs, spreading his precum around the tip.

“Careful Doll,” he warns against my lips as I rub his tip against my clit, “You don’t want to tease me.”

“And what are you going to do if I decide…” he interrupts by maneuvering me by the waist and slamming me down onto his cock. My hands fly to his chest to steady myself from the sudden movement and we both let out sinful moans. He moves us at a fast and bruising pace, hitting every spot I didn’t know existed. Nothing compares to the way he feels, not my own fingers, a toy, or any past lover. I can’t help the way that I frantically grind down against him. I can feel the car begin to shake from the force of our bodies searching for our mutual releases. My legs feel like they are on fire from keeping myself upright over Bucky but it doesn’t matter. His strong grip does the work for me. 

The smell of pure sex is thick in the air while mixing with the filthy wet sounds of hips meeting each other and two people finding endless pleasure in each other. My orgasm is fast approaching once again and so is his when he starts let out broken moans and curses. “F-fuck…” he groans, “I can feel it, doll. Come for me. Let go with me.” 

"Yes please," I pant back. "Don't stop, please."

He squeezes his eyes tight as he thrusts up a few more harsh times before he becomes sloppy and moves a hand to rub at my swollen clit. The sudden touch sends a jolt through me and I cry out over and over again as my orgasm washes over me. Bucky pants out my name as he too releases and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. As we both start to come down from our highs, he places light kisses against my forehead and hair. 

Soft and quiet praises are muttered into my skin, “Did so good for me, doll. So proud of you. Absolutely perfect.”

Maybe dragging him to this wedding was a good idea.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part six)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)

Steve allows himself a brief mental breakdown in the shower when he gets home. He lets the water mix with his tears as he curls his arms around himself and wishes with everything he is that they were Eddie’s. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give right now just to be held by him again, just to feel Eddie’s arms around him one more time. All it took was a tiny kiss on the back of his hand for Steve’s skin to remember just how much it missed that feeling. Now Steve’s entire body craves Eddie’s touch, and he shakes in its absence like an addict in withdrawal. 

Then he puts himself back together, gets dressed and styles his hair and heads off to work. 

They’d defeated Vecna before he could split the world into pieces or whatever his diabolical plan had been. So while Steve’s whole world may have been torn apart, while Steve’s whole world lays bruised and bandaged and amnesic in a hospital bed, the rest of the world carries on none the wiser. The rest of the world still rents VHS tapes and has movie nights and date nights and no fucking clue that they were seconds away from being dragged down into a hell dimension a couple weeks ago, so Family Video is still open for them. Fuck that. 

“You’ve gotta handle the customers today because if someone starts asking me stupid questions I can’t promise I won’t snap at them,” Steve tells Robin as he drives them to their shift. 

“Aw, but it’s so funny when you snap at them,” Robin quips. 

“Robin.” He gives her his best I’m so fucking serious look. 

Her humor dries up immediately and she nods solemnly. “Alright, yeah. I got it.” 

Steve sighs, pulling into the parking lot. “Thank you.” 

He busies himself with cataloging and reshelving and rewinding returns while Robin takes over the customer service part of the job. It’s mindless - mind-numbing - the monotony of the tasks exactly what Steve needs to dull out the thoughts in his brain and distract himself from the way the back of his hand still tingles from Eddie’s kiss. 

When the afternoon rush dies down after a few hours and the store is all but empty, Robin sidles up next to him where he’s putting away a stack of fantasy films. “Hey.” 

Her voice cuts through his focus and nearly startles Steve out of his skin. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” 

“Sorry.” She grabs half the stack of tapes and starts helping him shelve. “Just wanted to check in with you, we haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk today. How are things going with Eddie?” 

“It’s fine. He’s fine,” Steve grumbles, glaring down at the tape in his hands. It’s got a dragon on the cover. He thinks Eddie would probably like it. “He still doesn’t remember me, but he’s starting to see me as a friend now at least, so.” Steve shoves the movie into its spot on the shelf. “That’s something, right?” 

Robin raises her eyebrows at the sharp bitterness in his tone and how forcefully he put the tape away. “Okay. Yeah. So I see we’re in the anger stage of grief now,” she comments. 

Steve scoffs. If this is a stage of grief, he thinks he’s been going through them in the wrong order, or maybe all at once - a neverending ebb and flow of denial and anger and depression all swirled together into one fucked up cocktail of grief. “I’m not angry,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m just tired- emotionally burnt out, I don’t know. I just miss him and it’s not fair and I’m so fucking sick of feeling like this.” 

“Yeah, that’s anger, Steve,” Robin says, infuriatingly blunt. She slides the last tape in her stack into its place and then leans against the shelf. “Did something else happen to set this off, or are you just generally overwhelmed?” 

Steve sags against the shelf beside her. “Both. I don’t know. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid. He just- he kissed my hand this morning, that’s it, and it wrecked me.” 

“He what?” Robin questions, curiosity widening her eyes. 

“He kissed my hand,” Steve repeats. He sighs and adds context, gives her a full recount of the events of that morning.

“Oh my god?!” Robin practically squawks as she backhands Steve’s arm, which is definitely not the comforting words or touch he needs from her right now. 

“Ow!” he yelps, rubbing his arm. “What the hell was that for?” 

“Dude. He was flirting with you,” she tells him, eyes even wider now like she’s trying to explain to him something obvious. 

“What? No.” Steve shakes his head, looking at her like she’s crazy. “He definitely wasn’t.” 

“Ughhh,” Robin lets out a long, dramatic groan, dragging her hands down her cheeks and pulling down her eyes. “I cannot do this with you two again. He totally was.” She drops her hands from her face so she can use them to illustrate her point as she starts to lists off, “First of all, he literally called you daddy-” 

“As a joke,” Steve interrupts to protest. 

“Yeah, a flirtatious one,” Robin retorts. She continues, “Then he said you have a magic touch, and then his heart literally started racing for no reason-”

“Because I was stressing him out!” 

“Only after his heart rate went up in the first place, which, as I was saying, was for no reason other than the fact that you were smiling at him and holding his hand-” 

“That literally doesn’t-” 

“And then, he kissed your hand - pressed his lips to your skin - and told you that you were his good luck charm,” Robin finishes, looking smug like she’s said something novel and not just completely reiterated exactly what Steve had just told her only with more emphasis. 

He sighs wearily. “Your point?” 

“He likes you, dingus,” she says, whacking his arm again. “Don’t you get it? His mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.”

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. A lump rises in his throat, a rush of jumbled emotions chafing against his already frayed edges. “Don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“I think you should tell him what you were to each other,” Robin suggests. 

“Right, yeah, okay, sure,” Steve scoffs, somewhere between sarcastic and hysterical. “And while we’re at it, I think you should tell Vickie that you like her. Because telling people things like that is so easy, isn’t it?” 

Robin gives him a withering stare. “That is not the same thing at all, and you know it.”

“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees. “Because I know Eddie, and he would not take that news well. He already gets a little weird whenever I seem to know too much about him - if I tell him I know him biblically too-” 

“Ew, don’t tell him like that!” 

“Doesn’t matter if I tell him like that; I say we’ve been together for 9 months, he’s going to assume we’ve-” 

“God, okay, I get it!”

“See? It would freak him out,” Steve concludes, crossing his arms. “Even if he does…like me again or whatever, he definitely wouldn’t anymore and it would just generally make him uncomfortable. So I can’t tell him. I just have to keep waiting for him to remember on his own, even though it’s fucking killing me,” he says, his voice harsh as he tries to keep it from breaking. “It’s what’s best for Eddie.” 

“Steve-” Robin starts, frowning like she’s only just beginning to realize she may have pushed him too far, but whatever it is she was going to say is cut off by the ringing of the bell that announces the front door being open. 

“Customers.” Steve points his chin towards the couple who just walked in, a bitter jealousy boiling in his stomach as he watches them walk hand in hand towards the romance aisle. It’s not fucking fair. He shoves himself away from the shelves and mutters, “I’m taking my break.”

He stalks to the breakroom, closes the door, and sinks to the floor with his back against it. The tears in his eyes feel like they’re made of acid, like they would carve tracks into his skin if they were to spill down his cheeks. He wraps his arms around himself again. The thoughts in his head are made of acid too, bitter and burning and cursing everyone who gets to enjoy their lover's touch while he suffers without his. 

Steve’s brain feels corroded, corrupted. “He likes you,” Robin’s words echo there too, “his mind may not remember still, but his heart is starting to.” Would Eddie touch him now if he asked? Would he trace his fingers across Steve’s skin, kiss more than just the back of his hand? Steve digs his own fingers into his sides. He feels gross, he feels rotten. It wouldn’t be right to ask that of Eddie without him knowing the truth, to take advantage of him like that. It wouldn’t be the same, anyways. The superficial touch of a boy with the beginnings of a crush is not the tender lover’s caress that Steve craves. 

That is if Robin is even right about Eddie redeveloping feelings. Which she probably isn’t.

Steve’s just being stupid and selfish again. He wants to remove his brain from his skull so he can stop thinking, tear his heart from his chest so he can stop feeling; both so burned and decayed he thinks if he held them in his hands they would dissolve and crumble to dust and ash and sludge between his fingers. 

Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve forces himself to be fine. He peels himself off the breakroom floor and returns to work, continues the tedious tasks that he hopes will numb him out again. 

Robin catches his eye from across the room where she’s sorting a customer’s cash at the register. I’m sorry, her expression says, I didn’t mean to make you upset. 

Steve gives a tiny shake of his head and a small smile. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, his own expression reassures her. You meant well. I’m not mad at you. 

They don’t talk about Eddie again that day. The next time there’s a lull in customers and they’re able to chat again, Steve tells Robin he honestly just needs a distraction right now, and he lets her ramble on about Vickie and band and school and her impending graduation and the movie she watched last night and whatever other random thoughts are bouncing around that hyperactive head of hers. Her voice fills in the cracks in Steve’s brain, keeps it from falling apart completely. She’s always been good at that, and he’s grateful for it. 

Then he drops Robin off after work and he drives away alone in silence because all the songs on the radio are love songs, and he drives back to the hospital - back to the source of his grief again and again like some sort of fucking masochist - because Eddie needs him. Because Steve loves him.

~

Eddie cannot help the way his face all but beams the second Steve walks back into his room that evening. “There you are, Stevie! How was work?”

Steve returns the smile, genuine, but there’s a tiredness to it. “It was alright. Bit boring, really, uneventful. How are you doing?” 

“I’m good,” Eddie says, adding with a jaunty grin, “All the better now that you’re back.” 

It comes out a bit more flirtatious than he intended, but thankfully Steve just laughs it off. “Alright, smoothtalker,” he scoffs through a chuckle as he takes his usual seat by the bed. “It’s nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, the actual doctor came in to talk to me today. Good news, don’t worry,” Eddie tells him, the last bit tacked on quickly before that concerned crease can appear between Steve’s brows. “She says I’m healing up nicely, and I might be able to be discharged soon. A few more days’ observation and then they're gonna see how well I can actually move since, you know, the bats chewed through half the muscles in one of my legs. But, yeah, I could be out of here by the end of next week.” 

“That’s great, Eddie!” Steve brightens. 

“Yeah.” Eddie smiles. “I can’t wait to be somewhere familiar, feel normal again. Or, well,” he amends, smile falling a little as he realizes, “as normal as I can feel given that I’ll probably be walking with a limp for the rest of my life and be covered in nasty scars all over.” 

A strange expression crosses Steve’s face then, something happy and sad and sympathetic all at once, and his voice is soft as he says, “We’ll match.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “What?”

“The scars,” Steve clarifies. “The bats got me too, you know. I was lucky, it wasn’t as bad for me as it was for you, but, uh- yeah, we’ll match. See?” He stands and pulls his shirt up a bit. 

Eddie’s heart rate immediately kicks up again, blood growing warm, as his eyes snap to Steve’s stomach, to skin and muscle and body hair and- oh. Two giant, jagged red scabs cover Steve’s sides, the edges fading into skin bumpy and pink and white with the beginnings of scarring. The bite on Eddie’s own side twinges in sympathy. “That’s-” He swallows back the word hot, and breathes out instead, “Holy shit.” Without really thinking, he finds himself reaching out to skim his fingers over the ridges of Steve’s scars. 

Steve gasps - full body shudders - at the touch, and Eddie instantly pulls his hand back, afraid he’s hurt him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“No, it’s fine,” Steve manages, though it sounds a bit shaky. “You didn’t hurt me, I just- I wasn’t expecting it.” 

Eddie tentatively starts to reach back out; Steve nods. He slowly traces the outline of the wound again, every uneven edge, feeling the evidence of hurt and the evidence of healing and the ripple of each breath Steve takes - breaths that echo in the quiet that falls between them. Eddie doesn’t realize just how intimate this silence has become as he runs his hands across Steve’s skin, until he glances up to find Steve just…watching him. It’s impossible to tell exactly what emotion is behind his eyes, but it’s intense and it’s devastating, and Eddie suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. 

“Uh-” A nervous laugh stutters out of him. He rescinds his touch. “Twin scars, huh?” he remarks, cracking a crooked smile and attempting to change this strange, suffocating energy with a joke. “Hell of a matching tattoo. Next time let’s just exchange friendship bracelets like normal people do, yeah?”

Steve huffs, a short burst of laughter that escapes from his chest like it’s been punched out of him. “Since when have you ever done anything like a normal person?” he teases in return as he pulls his shirt back down.

Just like that, blown away by Steve’s playful smile, the weird tension lifts. Eddie grins back. “Alright, fair point.” He adds, “Those are gonna be some pretty metal scars, Stevie.”

“Not as metal as yours,” Steve says warmly, settling back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “You’re the one that literally survived death, Ed. It doesn’t get any more metal than that.” 

“Now who’s the smoothtalker?” Eddie smirks, and he hopes he isn’t blushing. Steve Harrington calling him metal with so much pride and affection in his voice is doing numbers on his heart. Curse this stupid fucking crush.

Steve eyes divert briefly to the heart monitor, which has not once calmed down since the second he’d lifted up his shirt, and Eddie is so sure that he knows then, that he’s finally made the connection between what’s got Eddie’s heart racing, but he doesn’t say anything, just laughs it off again, smiling like everything’s completely normal as he looks back at Eddie and rolls his eyes and mutters in return, “Shut up.” 

“Make me,” Eddie mumbles, not quick enough to bite back the words before they fall from his mouth, only managing to lower his voice enough that maybe Steve didn’t hear him. 

“What?” 

“TV?” Eddie grabs the remote, pretends like that’s what he’d said in the first place. Real smooth. 

“Oh, sure.” Steve shrugs. If he noticed Eddie’s slip, he gives no indication of it. 

Eddie turns on the TV and they spend the next hour or so laughing and making fun of the bad acting on the show that’s playing. Easy, normal, platonic. Eddie’s heart rate stabilizes, remaining even so long as he doesn’t look too long at Steve’s smile. 

When sleep starts lapping at Eddie’s consciousness, he doesn’t fear it anymore. Silently, he holds out his hand, and Steve takes it, wrapping him in the warmth and protection that allows Eddie to let himself drift off undaunted. 

And in his dreams his hands skate across Steve’s skin again.

(part seven)

taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

[charliemwrites]

Making this a separate post because the idea has evolved a bit:

(Was talking about this in the discord if it looks familiar)

I’m thinking less of a 1 to 1 Greek god au. I’m thinking it’s more of a theme to their dynamic and in parts of their story.

Johnny is a reincarnation of some ancient, nameless (or many-named) god, associated with dark forces. He’s not evil incarnate. But he is something of a representation of “darker” human nature. Anger, bloodlust, impatience, selfishness.

Persephone!reader, by comparison, is sort of a personification of gentler human nature. Patience, mercy, altruism, gentleness. She is less “awakened” so to speak because her mother has been a major limiting factor in her life. Like, helicopter parent to the extreme.

Persephone!reader goes to her aunt Laswell as a sort of compromise. See the world, the real world, in a controlled sort of way with her aunt watching carefully over her shoulder.

Problem is, no one is expecting the dreams to start as soon as she gets to base. Dreams of a man that scares her as much as tempts her, and encouraging the worst and most selfish of her impulses. She doesn’t tell anyone - why would she? They’re just dreams.

Captain MacTavish scares intimidates her, even though she insists that he doesn’t, looking him in the eye with her chin tilted up defiantly. When he’s on base he finds all sorts of ways to cross her path, sometimes teasing her into an indignant fluster, other times telling her off for “distracting recruits”. Always, always has an eye on her, even if it’s not his own.

Once things come to a head (I haven’t figured out how yet) Persephone!reader insists it isn’t fair. And just because they’ve been something in the past doesn’t mean they have to now.

Johnny, of course, is utterly amused. She’s barely got any idea what’s going on, but sure, she’s going to deny forces beyond life and death.

They strike a deal. When he’s away (for months at a time… a season’s length, even) she can run and hide and do whatever she wants to “escape” him. If he cant find her within a week of coming back, then he’ll leave her be and she’s “free”.

(She scoffs that he’s going to cheat, using her aunt and all of her connections but he just scoffs. As if Laswell would help him over her own niece. And as if he needs the help.)

He always finds her within a day of coming back from a mission. No matter where she is or what her name is. No matter how well she covers her tracks (even with Laswell’s help). He comes to her with gifts.

At first it would be sweet if not for the smirk on his face and the realization that she’s “lost” again. He brings flowers of all kinds, and green plants in little pots. Then it’s a new sweater, a nice coat, a piece of jewelry.

And then… and then they get worse. A bullet is the first sign. It’s just a whole bullet, her name engraved in its side. Then it’s a casing, the bullet clearly having been shot. He tells her it went right between someone’s eyes. The “gifts” become patches from enemy jackets, pretty stones splattered with dried blood, a human tooth.

It’s awful. She hates it. She can’t ever make herself say it (or believe it). And when he’s gone, she physically can’t make herself throw them away. Shes tried and tried, and the last time she put a real effort into it, she ended up on the floor having a panic attack, sobbing and calling Johnny.

(He purrs at her through the phone, gunfire background noise while he soothes her back inside. His voice keeps her company while she makes a tea, readies a bath. Tuts at her to call him again when she’s tucking into bed. She refuses to acknowledge that she does.)

Similarly, she finds herself getting or making things for him. For his inevitable return. Cigars and his favorite whiskey. Making patches for his uniform. A leather bracelet with her initials on a silver charm. A ring with an inlay the color of her eyes. Doesn’t even realize what she’s doing until she’s home or the thing is done. She’ll hide them away for months with no plans of giving them to Johnny. He inevitable finds them within his first week home anyway.

(There’s the one time she bakes for him, humming as she measures and mixes ingredients. Lets him steal tastes from the bowl and lick flour off her cheek. Only realizes what she’s done in a domestic haze when he’s eaten the sweet treat and thanked her for it.)

And when he’s home…

The deal is that when he’s home, he gets to treat her like his. Climbs into her bed, grumbling about pillows being a poor substitute for him. Steps into her shower midway through, ducking his head so she can shampoo and condition his hair with her gentle hands. Dresses her in his clothes, in his dog tags. Always has a hand on her, even in her (their) home.

And he delights in yanking her into his lap - especially in public. When his team comes to visit (and they always do) he lounges with her on his thigh. He’s also kind of a dick. Like he’s courteous to servers (mainly female ones because chances are they won’t flirt with his girl) but pretty much any stranger talking to him or his Persephone is met with smarmy asshole behavior.

It’s to the point that she just fusses at him to let her talk to people. And he’s happy to do so, amused by the way she charms people. He only intervenes when someone is rude or a little too friendly with her. She’s had to break up bar fights before because god knows his men won’t try to stop their captain.

She is literally the only being in all of history that can tell him no and stop and he’ll listen regardless of the situation. She has to actively remind herself that it’s not healthy and she should not be a little flattered about it. And she’s not. (She is.)

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

Okay okay, hear me out.

A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3

It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.

He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.

It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.

But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.

Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.

They weren’t too great during missions though.

~

“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.

“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”

“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.

“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.

“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.

“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.

“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.

“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.

“You love me,” you say in turn.

“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.

“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).

“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”

“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.

Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.

“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.

“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.

“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.

“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.

“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.

You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.

“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.

“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.

“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.

“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.

“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.

“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”

“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.

You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.

Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.

“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.

He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.

Quite frankly, it was hot.

So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.

You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.

Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.

“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.

“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.

Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.

"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.

“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.

“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.

“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.

He stares back before sighing.

“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.

“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.

“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.

“That’s different,” he retorts.

“It’s really not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”

“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”

“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.

“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.

“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.

“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”

You just shrug.

“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”

“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).

“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.

“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.

“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.

“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.

“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.

The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.

“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.

His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.

You had never felt anything so right.

“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.

He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.

“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.

“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.

“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.

“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.

“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.

He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

Finally, you felt complete.

~

~

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.

“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes

A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)

[the-offside-rule]

Drivers while their s/o studies

Just a mini series I felt like doing. : )

Charles Leclerc

Charles smiled as he entered the room, holding a tray with snacks and coffee for Y/n who had been sitting at her desk since that morning. "Hello mom cœur, I thought you might need a little pick-me-up while you work." He said, placing the tray on the table. Y/n looked up from her laptop, a grateful smile forming. "Oh what would I do without you?" She said as she held his face and peppered soft kisses onto it as he emptied the tray onto the desk. "Cry, maybe." He joked.

Charles sat down beside her and began eating a protein bar before Y/n continued on typing. "How's it going anyway?" he asked, genuinely interested. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'll manage. Your snacks will definitely help." She replied, taking a sip of the coffee. Charles chuckled. "I believe in you. I'll leave you to it for a bit, though. I'm going to meet Lorenzo and Arthur in the gym. You know how it is."

Y/n nodde. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out. "Take breaks, okay? Don't overwork yourself." He reminded her. "Of course, love. Have fun and give them my best!" As he left, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The small gestures made studying a lot more enjoyable, and she felt lucky to have Charles by her side.

Max Verstappen

Max woke up to an empty bed, the confusion evident on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he ventured into the living room, where he found Y/n engrossed in her laptop. Y/n spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled at his sleepy face. "Morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?" She teased, looking up from her work. Max chuckled, and walked over to her. "Yeah, until I realized I was all alone." He placed a kiss atop of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Got an assignment to finish, but you can keep me company." She suggested with a smile. Max raised an eyebrow. "Company? I was expecting a romantic morning, not a work session." Y/n laughed, "Well, I can't help it. University." He rolled his eyes. "I told you, you should have just gave in to being a stay-at-home girlfriend and now here we are with you leaving me I'm bed to work." Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke. "Well if you loved me you would sit right here with me and keep me company, like a good temporary stay-at-home boyfriend?" Undeterred, Max decided to make the best of the situation. "Fine, but how about some breakfast first? I'll cook."

As Max prepared breakfast, they bantered back and forth, the kitchen filled with laughter. Sitting down on the sofa with their plates, Max linked his phone to the TV and began watching his race upcoming debrief that Red Bull had sent him. Y/n glanced at the screen every so often, finding it unbelievably distracting and whilst he had to watch it for work, why couldn't he just watch it on his phone?"Mind turning that off? I need to focus." Max pouted playfully. "Aw, come on. It's just background noise." She shook her head, "No, it's distracting. I need to concentrate."

A minor disagreement ensued, but Max, ever the compromiser, reached a resolution. "Fine, wear these," he said, handing her a pair of headphones. "You study, I watch my debrief." Y/n huffed, taking the headphones, "Deal. Just don't complain if I fail my exam because of this." Max grinned. "Deal, as long as you promise we actually so something romantic later on." Y/n grinned and connected her headphones to the laptop and began playing her music.

Lando Norris

Lando was deep into his online stream, enthusiastically commentating on his latest race in the virtual world. Meanwhile, Y/n diligently studied in the living room, trying to concentrate despite the growing noise. At first, it was fine because he only had Max on a voice call and then they started playing the F1 games and inviting drivers, and it all went to chaos.

The usual loudness was just about starting to sound normal until she heard a loud screeching from the streaming room. Y/n finally reached her limit. She threw her laptop to the side and stormed into the streaming room, wearing a bitter expression. Lando turned, smiling before the smile turned into a grim look. He...was...fucked. "Hi babe." He said quietly. "Lando, could you please keep it down a bit? I'm trying to study out here." She said calmly. She didn't want fans making up rumours about an argument.

Lando, still wearing his headset, looked guilty. "I will try, but Max is-" She cut him off. "Lando, you will be quiet. I cannot fail these exams. I just need you to be quiet. Understood?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, babe. I got carried away. I'll tone it down." The serious expression turned to a light hearted smile, before she looked to the computer, smiled and waved to greet the chat, before leaving.

Lando continued on playing, listening to the chaos on the call and not acting up. But the guilt lingered, and he suddenly had to leave the stream momentarily. "Hey, guys? I'll be right back. Just need to grab a drink, I'll be back in a sec. Promise." He announced to his fellow drivers and viewers before leaving the room. He rushed to the kitchen, returning to the living room with a peace offering of snacks and energy drinks for his girlfriend who sat on her bean bag with her study sheets sprawled across the coffee table. She looked up quickly before looking back to her work and continuing on typing. "I'm really sorry, Y/n. Here, I got you some goodies. Let me make it up to you." Lando said, kneeling down beside her and leaving a small plate of biscuits and sweets beside her. She looked between the plate and Lando, seeing the sincerity in his expression before she chuckled, accepting the snacks. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sorry. Just try to keep it down, okay?"

"Okay, I promise." He said, pecking her cheek and running back to the livestream with his can of Monster. Back in the streaming room, Lando continued his broadcast. He scrolled through the chat, noticing a comment from Y/n.

Thanks for the biccies, lovey <3 Good luck with your stream!

His fans erupted in supportive comments, finding the situation adorable. Lando couldn't help but smile, covering his face from how hard he was blushing. "You better leave me some 9f them biscuits, Y/n." Lando said into the camera. "Let's get back to the race, shall we?" The stream continued, with a more considerate Lando and a grateful Y/n watching from the sidelines.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

As the creatures and people of Madrid lay asleep in their beds, Y/n sat on her laptop working away beside her boyfriend who had just come back from a race weekend on the other side of the globe. Carlos stirred in his sleep, as the soft glow of Y/n's laptop pierced the darkness. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Y/n glanced at him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Sorry, babe. Got a deadline. Can't sleep." He sighed, and turned his back so he would be able to get even a glimpse of sleep. "Alright, just keep it down, please." He whispered. "Yes sir, Mr Sainz." She yawns, still typing.

In the morning, Carlos awoke to Y/n still typing away in their bed, exhaustion evident in her eyes. She got a lot of work done and had work in three hours. "Morning." He whispered, kissing her hand before sitting up. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Y/n asked. "Other than that one time you woke me, yes. Did you sleep at all?" Carlos asked. Y/n shook her head. "You should get some sleep before work. Finish this when you get home, yeah?" Y/n sighed in defeat. She wouldn't be able to go to work if she was this tired. Maybe a two hour sleep wouldn't hurt? " Carlos nodded, taking her laptop, placing it on the bedside table and tucking her into bed, . "You need to rest." He insisted. "I will wake you before work, mi amor." She reassured her, kissing her hair and letting her fall asleep.

When Y/n awoke, she looked out to see that the sun was awfully bright for 8am. Then she turned and saw Carlos walking into the room with a tray of coffee and toast. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked, sitting up. Carlos paused and looked at her. "Breakfast?" He replied in a question. Y/n looked at her phone, her eyes wide. "Oh my god! It's half past 11. I'm so fucking late!" She said. "No you aren't." Carlos replied, placing the tray on his locker. "I had work two hours ago!" She protested.

Carlos shook his head. "I called your boss, said you were sick." Y/n's eyes widened to what he had said. "Why'd you do that?" She asked. "Because you needed it." He replied, pulling the duvet over them and putting his arm around Y/n. "Carlos, I cant-" He cut her off. "Should we watch Berlín? It's meant to be really good." He said, flicking through the Netflix. "Babe. I'm serious. I need to go to work." She said. "And I have said before; you could quit work and I'll take care of you. You won't quit but I am still gonna take care of you. Now stay with me in bed and help me pick a series for us to watch."

She stopped complaining and lay in his arms. "Yeah. Berlín sounds good." She mumbled quietly. "Good, now here's some toast."

George Russell

George had brought Y/n to race weekends before, but this time, she found herself confined to the team's hospitality area, engrossed in her upcoming exams. She looked up to the TV evey so often to see how her boyfriend was doing before turning her attention back to her laptop. Like an angel sent, George decided to check in on her in between sessions, finding her buried in textbooks and notes.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pressing a kiss onto her head and leaning on the table. Y/n looked up, tired but determined. "Just trying to survive this study session. Well done on topping the session by the way." George grinned. "It's only the second practise. I think we know what strategy we're going for in qualifying though." He chuckled. "Have you eaten?" Y/n thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "You do know, you need to eat too."

She sighed, burying her head in her hands from exhaustion. "I know, I just lost track of time. Can you grab me something?" George smiled. "Of course." He replied, leaving momentarily and heading to the barista bar. He returned moments later with a croissant and a latte, placing them in front of her. "Fuel for the brain." he said with a smile. Y/n looked up at him appreciatively, "You're my hero, Mr Russell. Thank you so much."

"No problem. I know how important these exams are for you." He replied, sitting beside her. As she sipped the latte and nibbled on the croissant, George and her began talking. "Anything I can help with? Maybe a quick break to clear your mind?" Y/n smiled. "You being here is already a huge help. But maybe a motivational speech wouldn't hurt."

"Im not doing motivational speeches." They both burst into laughter, lightening the mood in the cozy hospitality space. George wrapped his arm around Y/n, offering comfort and support. "You're the best distraction," she admitted, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Lance Stroll

Lance sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom after his return from the gym to find Y/n looking a bit frustrated. He arched a brow as he sipped from his water bottle and decided to approach her, concern evident in his eyes. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I just can't study. Maybe it's just because of how different it is from studying in my office back home." Lance thought for a moment."How about you use my office? It's quiet, and you'll have all the space you need." He suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't." She replied. "No, seriously. I never use it anyway."

Y/n's face lit up with gratitude as Lance led her to his office. The room was filled with shelves displaying Lance's collection of racing helmets and trophies. The large floor-to-ceiling window revealed a breathtaking snowy landscape of their estate. "This is perfect." Y/n whispered, finding the desk facing the wonderous view. Lance smiled, happy to help her. "If you need me just call. I'm just gonna hit the shower." He said, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. "Thank you, babe." She grinned, setting her stuff down. "Anytime." He shot back before leaving and making his way to his bathroom to shower.

Y/n had gotten a lot done since she sat down. The view was a perfect distraction but not too distracting that she couldn't focus. If anything, it was there to just calm her down before getting right back to it. An hour passed, and Lance returned with snacks, finding Y/n engrossed in her studies. "Hey, how are you getting on?" He asked, peering through the door. "Doing good, Lancelot. I am doing good." She smiled, still jotting down some notes. He walked in with a tray of snacks. In between him showering and him walking around the kitchen, he decided Y/n needed to take a break and made up a snack tray to bring her.

"Need a study break?" he asked, handing her a twix. Y/n grinned, "Definitely. Thanks for this, Lance. This office is amazing." Lance chuckled, "Well, it's only fair you get a taste of my world too. Plus, I like having you happy." As they enjoyed their snacks, the conversation turned from how everyone in the house has an office to the trophies and helmets on the walls.

"You know-" Lance began, taking down his Balu trophy from back in 2017. "This one's from my first podium. I was so excited that day." Y/n smiled as she sipped her cola. "I can see why. You've got an impressive collection of trophies, Lancey." He looked at her warmly. "But none of them compare to having my trophy girlfriend. I worked my ass off to even get you on a date." Y/n laughed. "I'm serious! You kept saying no!"

"You should've taken the hint." Y/n replied. "Then who would be sat in this office?" Lance asked. "I don't know. One of those weird models that throw themselves at you, I guess." She joked. "Yeah, but I prefer you." Lance said. There grew a comfortable silence before Lamce stood up, collecting the wrappers off the snacks and putting them back onto the tray. "I guess it's time for you to get back to studying." Lance said. "Thank you for the company." Y/n smiled as Lamce leaned down to give her a kiss. "How about we watch a movie later and order takeout? Sound good?" Lance suggested. Y/n nodded. You really are a dream."

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Saving the World or Not Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - Steve's gone off to fight Vecna while you've stayed behind to distract the bats. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count - 2.5k Warnings - Language. Canon typical violence. And yes, I'm going to go ahead and tell you, Eddie ain't dying in this one. Because I don't want him to, and in this universe I'm the boss. :P Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

You knew the exact moment when you decided you weren’t going back up that rope into your world. You watched as Dustin appeared overhead, safe in Hawkins, and Eddie yelled at you to “GO!”. The thought didn’t make you panic. It was something you felt with certainty. Steve wasn’t back, they needed more time, and you weren’t leaving this place without him. 

Dustin screamed at you from overhead, but you ignored him, turning to Eddie. “Keep him safe all right?” You grabbed the backpack filled with backup weapons and turned back towards the front of the trailer. 

“Woah, woah, woah, where the hell are you going!?” Eddie said, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you back around to face him. “We said we wouldn’t be heroes!” 

You gave Eddie a small smile, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. “He’s not back, which means I’m not going anywhere.” 

Not giving him the chance to say anything else, you ran out the door, grabbing one of the bikes you guys had left outside, and took off. “Come on you bastards! Come and get me!” 

You didn’t allow yourself to panic. You didn’t allow terror to swallow you whole and pull you under. Even when the awful screeching of those bats echoed through your stomach as they started following you. You cycled through every one of your friends’ faces and reminded yourself that you were doing this for them. You were doing this to keep them safe, whether it meant you would get to see them that way or not. Whether it meant you were sacrificed or not. As long as everyone was okay . . . It would be worth it. 

Steve’s smiling face had just formed in your mind when a vine grabbed a hold of one of the wheels of your bike, the sudden jerk throwing you off and sending you flying into a decaying car. 

You heard glass shatter, then it was black. 

————————

The world came back into focus like a slow motion action movie sequence. Your eyes opened and pain hit your body like a freight train. A groan left your lips as you attempted to sit up, and you felt blood dripping down the side of your forehead. Some of it fell into your eye, tinting everything in red. You looked up to find that you had flown through the windshield of the car, landing miraculously in the passenger seat. 

That was when you heard the screeches. 

You looked in horror out the shattered window as the bats swarmed Eddie. He had come after you. Your best friend had followed you, and was now being attacked. You gasped as you saw one almost get him around the neck, and knew what was going to happen next. 

No. 

You did not waste a year of your life not being friends with him to watch him die like this. The world needed Eddie Munson. They needed someone to befriend the outsiders, to make everyone who felt like they were outsiders feel like they had a place they belonged. Your brother needed Eddie Munson. You needed Eddie Munson, and he was not about to die.

You were sure it was the adrenaline that allowed you to push all that pain down and climb back out through the window, not even wincing as your hands touched the broken glass. You slid down the hood and fell to the ground looking around for something, anything to help. A few feet away you saw it, the bag of extra weapons. You crawled over to it, trying to think of what was in there and how it could help. 

The first things you pulled out were all too small. They could never take on that whole swarm, and then your hands touched the lighter. Your mind flashed back to senior year, you, Steve and the kids setting the hub on fire. No matter what it was, fire seemed to hurt everything in the Upside Down. A lighter wouldn’t put off enough flames to get all of them though. 

Then your eyes fell on Steve’s hairspray. 

With every ounce of energy you had left, you pulled yourself up, clutching the lighter in one hand and the hairspray in the other, and stumbled over to where the bats were. They had just gotten Eddie to the ground with each holding down one limb when you reached them. “Fuck all of you.” You said as one noticed you and dived for you. You pressed down on the nozzle and lit up the lighter, flames exploding out in front of you and burning the bat to a crisp. 

You did your best to keep the flames away from Eddie, but you knew you had to get them to let go of him, and they did when the threat of the flames got too close. The flames incensed them, the screeching rising to a noise so loud that it hurt your ears, but they were off of Eddie, and he was still breathing. You had to stay on guard for both of you, but the bats had a healthy fear of the fire. God you hoped the hairspray would last long enough. You could feel it getting lighter, and let out a, “shit!” as it sputtered for a moment. 

“Uh Henderson, how long is that thing gonna last?” You heard Eddie ask, and you glanced over at him to see him attempting to sit up with a wince. 

“Keep your ass down Munson! You shouldn’t even be here! I told you to go back!” You said, angry that he had put his life in such danger. 

“You know I can’t let you take all the glory.” He grunted, but stayed where he was, holding onto his stomach. “And you’re my best friend. I’m not leaving you behind.” 

Tears started to fill your eyes at his words, but you forced the emotion down as the hairspray sputtered again. “No more friendship ending fights?” 

“And no more keeping shit from each other.” Eddie agreed, and you glanced down at him to see him smiling up at you. 

Before you got the chance to say something, the hairspray gave out in your hands. “Fuck.” 

Eddie tugged you down to the ground and you both wrapped your arms around each other, trying to protect the other from the bats, but then the strangest thing happened. You both froze as the bats screeches faded, and thuds told you that something was hitting the ground all around you. Looking up you watched in disbelief as the bats dropped all around you, dead. “Holy shit.” Eddie said. 

Relief filled your body, and you let out a breathless laugh, pulling away from Eddie to get a better view. “They must have got him. They must have got Vecna!” 

Eddie fell back to the ground on his back then, letting out his own laugh of relief. 

You took that moment to glance at his wounds, noting how similar they looked to yours. Ugly, but it seemed like the bats had been stopped before they got anything vital. “I know it’s more metal, but we should have just gotten matching tattoos instead.” You told him. 

He laughed again at your words, but then groaned in pain clutching his stomach. “Shit, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.” 

“Yeah, I know it hurts dipshit.” You said, shoving his shoulder. 

It was then that you heard your name and Eddie’s name being called and looked up to find your brother limping towards the two of you. 

You made yourself get to your feet, shocked by the sight of him and pulled him into a hug at once. “You dumbass, you were supposed to stay where it’s safe.” You told him, pulling back to look at him. “What the hell did you do to your leg?” 

“The two of you are the dumbasses! What were you thinking?! You promised Steve you wouldn’t try to be a hero!” He said, and you were shocked to see him looking close to tears. 

Tugging him close again, you ruffled his hair as you hugged him. “I’m okay, D. We’re both okay.” 

“You don’t look okay. You look like shit.” He murmured into your shirt. 

“Always keeping me humble, aren’t you little bro?” You said, and then pulled back again to look at him in the eyes. “Now tell me what you did to your leg.” 

It was at that moment the whole world began to shake. You pulled Dustin to the ground, being careful to make sure he didn’t hurt his leg more, and sat down between him and Eddie who was now sitting up again. “What the hell is going on?!” Eddie shouted over the rumbling. 

You didn’t know, but it couldn’t be good. Panic started rising in your chest once again as you thought about Steve, Robin and Nancy, a couple of miles away, unsure of what was happening to them. But the bats had died, so that had to mean they had killed Vecna, right? As soon as the shaking stopped, you found yourself wanting to run toward the Creel house to assure yourself they were all right, but Eddie’s wounds needed to be wrapped, Dustin needed something for his leg, and your head was still bleeding from flying through a car. There was no way you could make it through the miles in the woods and even if you could, you knew they’d never let you try to do it alone. 

So all you could do was wait, glancing up at the trees every few seconds hoping for the sight of them, and getting more anxious with every second. 

“They’re coming back.” Eddie tried to reassure you as you bandaged his wounds. “Harrington’s so in love with you I think he would have taken Vecna on himself to get back to you.” 

You gave a faint smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. It wouldn’t be until he was back. “It almost sounds like you approve.” You teased. 

“Yeah, well . . . Maybe he’s not as big of a douchebag as I thought.” Eddie admitted. “Kinda looks like a badass right now for sure.” He gestured behind you. 

You spun around so fast it made you dizzy for a second, but there they were, coming out of the trees. Alive, safe and only looking a little worse for wear. “Steve,” you gasped, stumbling to your feet as he took off running towards you. 

Within moments, despite your lack of coordination, Steve had your face in his hands, looking over you with concern. “Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?” Then he looked over at Eddie who was now supporting a bandage and Dustin who had a makeshift splint. “What happened to all of you?” 

Reaching out, Steve let you pull him even closer, needing the touch to reassure yourself he was okay. “I uh, might’ve flown through the windshield of a car. Eddie might have gotten attacked by the bats trying to save me, and Dustin might’ve fallen back down into the Upside Down trying to come back and help us.” He looked more and more upset with every word. “I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. Head wounds just bleed a lot.” 

“That’s true.” Robin confirmed, and you shot her a grateful smile, relieved to see that she looked fine as well. “But . . . You’re probably going to need to get that looked at.” She said, wincing when she looked at your forehead. 

“I told you not to play the hero. To get yourself out of here the moment shit started to go south-” Steve started to say, but you interrupted him. 

“Steve, I’m fine-”

“You flew through a goddamn car windshield-!” 

“And I might’ve also used up all your hairspray making a flamethrower.” You admitted. 

“It was metal as hell.” Eddie piped up, grinning over at Dustin who smiled back at him. 

You and Steve both shot them a look which wiped the grin from their faces. 

“Why couldn’t you for once look after yourself!?” Steve asked.

Although you knew he was worried about you, you couldn’t help but be a little frustrated at his words. “You needed more time! I got you more time.” You saw him open his mouth to protest, but kept going before he could. “And you’re not stupid. You knew there was no way in hell I was leaving without you, the same way you wouldn’t have left without me.” You tugged on his shirt to emphasize your words. “We’re a team Harrington, and I’m not abandoning you. Ever. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives, and you better start getting used to-”

Steve’s lips cut off your words with a hard kiss. It was rough, it was passionate, and it was punishing. A kiss that was so intense it was impossible for you to tell if your dizziness was from it or the blow to the head. You were so caught up in him, so caught up in the relief that he was alive, that he was okay, you didn’t even notice when he pulled away until he spoke. “It won’t be for the rest of our lives if you keep almost getting yourself killed.” 

He had a point. You wrapped your arms around him, resting the good side of your head against his chest. “I’ll try to work on that.” You said, letting out a sigh as he put his arms around you as well, holding you close. 

Steve groaned, but didn’t say anything, instead turning his attention to Eddie. “Thanks for looking after her Munson.” 

Eddie’s grin was sincere when he looked at him. “She's my best friend, Harrington. Always will.” 

“And you,” he said, focusing on Dustin, “Are an idiot, listen to your sister next time.” 

“What the hell-!” Dustin started to argue, but you interrupted him. 

“Did you guys feel that big earthquake too? I mean I know we felt them already, but this one-” you stopped at the expression on Steve’s face, and watched as he glanced at Robin then Nancy. “What’s going on?” You asked, stepping back so you could look at all three of them. 

Nancy spoke then. “The shaking started right after Henry’s clock chimed . . . Four times.” 

“But . . . That’s not possible. You - you guys killed him right? I mean the bats all fell out of the sky dead-” Eddie said. 

“By the time we got to the body, it was gone.” Nancy admitted. 

The implications of that sent your mind reeling. Was there a possibility that he survived everything that they had done to him? 

“Max.” Dustin said, and it was at that moment that Nancy’s first words caught up with you. If the clock had chimed four times . . . “We’ve got to get back! We’ve got to see if she’s okay!” He started back in the direction of the trailer, and you hurried to catch up with him and help support his weight. 

Max had to be okay. You weren’t sure what had happened, but she had to be okay. You had promised that you were going to take her shopping and for ice cream when all this was over. Besides, she was so strong and brave . . . nothing too bad could have happened. 

But when you and Dustin burst through the door to the trailer and looked up at the ceiling to the gate, you realized how wrong you were.

[exhaslo]

So mutual feelings (romantic)

Can you do like a Miguel x reader where its reader day off and she decides she wants to take a warm shower and listen to music so she puts on headphones and listen to pop or Spanish music or whatever(I was listening to follow the leader by Jlo that’s where this idea came from) and Miguel tries to call her because he needs help with some paperwork (not really he just won’t admit he misses her) so Miguel ends up going to her universe and to her apartment where he sees her in a towel dancing to music and singing along and finds it adorable

That’s the basic idea you can make it have a spicy end or just fluff , it can swing both ways , you can decide that

Smut is always fun, but I do believe we could use some more fluff

With sexual tension hehehehehehehehehehe

Warning: Minors DNI, Sexual tension, fluff, sexual thoughts, language

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

Some days were just exhausting. The only way you could find any relief from your daily struggles was a nice warm shower. The feeling of washing away your sweat, pain and sorrow was always comforting. A feeling you could never tire of.

Today was your day off from both the Spider Society and super hero work. All you had to do was go to your daily job, which also decided to drain you. If only you could have a day off from everything all together. Those were rare.

The moment you stepped into your small apartment was a god sent. You dropped your bag, locked the door and threw your shoes to the side. It was time for your shower.

"I'm going to enjoy this,"

-------

Miguel felt his eyes drop as he wrote on his fifth report for the day. It had been a LONG day. The amount of anomalies that appeared, the amount of fuck ups he had to fix, and the reports? Miguel either needed a drink or a good fuck.

Grunting at the thought of you, Miguel wondered how you were enjoying your day off. Miguel won't ever admit it, but he always missed you when you weren't working.

No one in the Spider Society knew, but the two of you were dating. Miguel always claimed that you were a special case and spoiled you rotten, but he wanted to be careful. But, sometimes it was hard for him to keep the secret.

Stopping his work, Miguel started to imagine you on your back with his dick rammed inside you. Your moans filling his brain as he thought of you under him, begging for more. Miguel grunted to his thoughts, wanting to feel you.

"I wonder what she's doing?"

Glancing at his watch, Miguel thought about paying you a visit. He deserved a little RNR after how today was. Surely, you wouldn't mind the visit either, right?

Using the dimension portal, Miguel decided to head to your world. He needed to hold you, even for just a moment.

As Miguel entered your apartment, he couldn't help but hear music blasting. Following the sound of music, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he stopped in front of the bathroom. Quietly, he opened the door and saw your shadow dancing to the music.

Miguel kept quiet as he watched you, smiling in awe towards you. You were so adorable. Oh, how Miguel wanted to fuck you right now, praising your beauty.

But he could wait.

You deserved this after all. You worked so hard, but got stressed so easily. Miguel always listened when you would complain about needed a hot shower. It was your go-to place to unwind and relax. He could understand.

Watching your hips move to the music, Miguel had to resist a groan. Oh how he wanted to join you and help you destress.

But, again, he could wait.

--------

Inhaling deeply, you cooed to the comfort you were enjoying. A nice long shower was what you needed. The music was distracting you from everything as you took your time. Your body finally relaxing from the stress and strain of the week.

"Mhm, I don't wanna leave~" You whined softly.

Washing the soap off your body, you started to regret leaving the comfort of your shower. As you stroked your body, you started to think of Miguel.

You loved your secret boyfriend. He was so kind to you and honestly one of the best things about being a Spider-Woman. Miguel was always a charmer. That and the sex with him was so intense and good that you could drool.

Shaking your head from the dirty thoughts, you knew that Miguel was busy. Finishing your shower, you thought about calling him. Just his presence alone made you feel better.

"Mhm, I think I'll order out," You told yourself.

As you stepped out of the shower, you squeaked as Miguel leaned against your wall with a smirk. Your face turned bright red as you covered yourself with a towel,

"M-Miguel?! Pervert." You said with a shy smile. Miguel chuckled as he approached you,

"Sorry, amor (love), I didn't want to disturb you." He said with a chuckle, pulling you into his embrace, "I just wanted to see you."

"Mhm, me too,"

Enjoying Miguel's embrace, you gently pushed him out of the bathroom so you could change. Miguel just complied and said that he would order some food for you.

As you finished, you stepped out of the bathroom and smiled as Miguel wore his back up clothes. The two of you getting comfortable as you cuddled on the couch.

"I wouldn't have mind you staying in the towel," Miguel hummed. You crawled onto his lap,

"Oh? And what would you have done if I did?"

"Hm, dunno. Depends on what you want me to do."

Damn, Miguel was good at getting you hot. Honestly, this would also be a good way to destress. Stroking his chest, you leaned forward to kiss him. Your hips slowly grinding against him before pulling away from his lips.

"A lot, but I think our food is here." You whispered as the door bell rang. Miguel gripped your waist,

"Ah, you torment me,"

You giggled as Miguel groaned in response. Shaking your ass in front of him on purpose. You went to the door, grabbing the food, but the moment you closed the door, Miguel grabbed you. He put the food aside as he pinned you against the door.

"I don't think you relaxed enough. Still seem a little stressed."

"Me or you?" Miguel grunted as he kissed your neck,

"You, for sure."

Wrapping your arms around Miguel's neck, you laughed as your boyfriend complained. Honestly, you needed that shower, but having Miguel here was a plus. Today was a great day...

And it was only getting better.

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

Sorry it was short!!! Hope you enjoyed~

[melithril]

[Adar] - Rainfall

♫ - Safe With Me - Izakaru

A/N: Sory for being MIA, I went to watch Sam last night in Coriolanus and it was incredible! Any of you in London please go watch if you can, it's so worth it! Anyway, I'm back to regular programming hopefully, please enjoy!! <3

Taking a long breath in, you sat bolt upright in your bed. Your eyes were wide, and your skin was sweaty but cold to the touch. It was rare for bad dreams to plague your sleep, though when they came, they were awful. Letting yourself calm for a moment by taking a deep breath in, your eyes glanced to your right, where your lover often lay. Hoping this one time you would find him there, such a thing was not the case.  Instead, you found that side of the bed empty and made up, suggesting he had not been here all night. Slipping out of bed, you let your feet carry you to where you knew he would be.

Often late at night, Adar could be found behind his desk working away on plans and various bits of business he had to attend to. Sometimes it piled up on him, and it meant long nights trying to figure the mess out. Tonight was one of those nights, and as Adar sat in front of all the paperwork, his mind drifted to you. How he wanted nothing more than to be with you now, in bed, doing absolutely anything but this. He drifted into a sort of daydream, distracted at the thought of being able to hold you and kiss you now. It did not last, and just as quickly as he fell in, he was pulled back out. 

A knock was heard at his door. Adar placed his head into his hands, assuming it was one of his uruk's with more news he really cared not for at this moment in time. 

"Come," he called, trying to hide the exasperation in his voice. 

"I hope I'm not bothering you," came your reply, your own voice meek and quiet. 

Adar's head shot up, clearly not expecting you to be out at such a time. He felt the same feeling in his stomach as he always felt upon seeing you; the joy, the happiness, and as usual you looked gorgeous, despite having woken up merely minutes ago. From past experience, he knew you probably couldn't sleep, which wasn't good for you but he was welcoming of your company all the same. 

"My star, is everything alright?" Adar questioned with concern. It always had warmed your heart when he voiced his worries for you. It showed you how much he truly cared.

You hadn't answered, and so Adar stood and made his way over. Reaching and towering above you, he place his hands on your shoulders, and you lift your head to look up at him. Your tear-stained face was enough to convince him something was wrong, as well as your inability to look him in the eye. Saddened that you were not okay, he pulled you over to his chair to sit with him. You sat on his lap, legs thrown over one side of him as he held you bridal style, safe and secure. You buried your face into his neck as he ran his hand through your hair to calm you.

"Whatever is the matter, starlight?"

Taking a moment to answer, Adar gave you all the space in the world. He knew that now you needed comfort, and to exist in his company, and so he would not pressure you for an answer. He was content upon seeing you unharmed. 

"I had a nightmare, Adar. I know it sounds silly to come to you simply for one bad dream, but I didn't know what else to do."

Adar shook his head.

"Look at me, my love," he spoke, and you rose your head to look him in the eye. "Nothing such as this is silly. I am glad you sought me out, for I would not want you to bear such feelings alone. You know I am and always have been here to scare those thoughts away."

"But," you started, sniffling a little. "You are so busy, and-"

"I am never too busy for you. I never will be. Whatever I have going on will always be second to you, in your time of need or not. You come first. Now, how can I help?"

As if by some manner of pathetic fallacy, a clap of thunder rang through the air, and rain began to fall heavily outside. You could hear the taps against the window as you curled closer into Adar, taking in the warmth he radiated. 

"Can I stay with you here?"

He smiled. "For as long as you need to."

You sat with him in the same position, his arms enclosing you in a house of safety, a place wherein no bad could ever come to you. All of those thoughts, those feelings, the memory of your nightmare had fizzled out, and right now you were left with a warm feeling as you listened to the rise and fall of Adar's chest. You counted his heartbeat in attempt to calm yourself entirely, and paid attention to the light, fleeting kisses placed atop your head. 

Tiredness began to overcome you and could feel the realms of sleep drawing in, but you spoke anyway with a slight drawl in your voice.

"Thank you, Adar. For everything, for always being there no matter what."

Adar chuckled a little, and with his finger and thumb had tilted your head up to look at him. He took a moment, taken aback by how you looked in his arms. Your hair was messy, still unkempt from your having woken up the first time, and your face was bathed in the pale glow of the moonlight. Never had he seen a more beautiful sight than you in this moment. 

"You need never thank me for this, starlight. All I ask of you is that you allow me to love you and for you to be here when I wake each day. I will always be here to fight those dreams for you."

You simply stared up at him with adoration. How you had fallen so far in love with Adar you knew not, but each day you fell further and further into what seemed like a bottomless pit. Not that you were complaining, far from it. You thanked whatever powers were at be in the universe that had flung you towards him, and you were grateful that you were granted the chance to love him in his entirety. 

Never had you loved someone so much, and never had you been loved so much in return. 

Leaning up, you ran kisses along Adar's jaw, earning a small hum of appreciation from him. Reaching his lips, Adar wasted no time in pressing his own to yours, a sweet kiss that never deepened. It remained soft, gentle and kind. Pulling away, you smiled up at the uruk you loved so dearly. Your head came once again to rest on his chest, your arms lazily around his middle as he sat in his chair. He kept you close to him, taking a breath to savour this moment. 

"You should rest now, my love. It is already late." Adar's tone was somewhat serious. 

You had a worried look on your face, which he had quelled immediately. 

"Do not worry, I will let no harm come to you. I will be here, those dreams are gone now, it is just you and I. Listen to the rainfall outside, I know it is your favourite. Listen to how it falls, the rhythms and patterns."

And so, you did, not convinced you would be able to fall asleep so soon. Your mind honed into the taps on the window, as well as the small crackle of fire behind you both. In addition to the rain, you could also hear the drum of his heart as he sat with you. The ambient noise of the rain paired with how cozy you felt in his arms, there was little that could plague your mind and keep you from drifting off any time now. 

A few minutes had passed, and after feeling you get a little heavier against him, Adar spoke to you with a voice low like a whisper. 

"Beautiful, are you alright?"

No answer. Adar smiled. You were asleep. 

Adar turned his focus to his work, deciding to get a little more in whilst he still could. He also did not want to disturb your position, finding it amusing and, dare he say, adorable how quickly you could sleep with him. He knew it was because you felt safe with him, and he reveled in knowing that you felt that safe in his arms. As he began to organise his papers, his free hand stroked your hair, before he placed a kiss to your head.

"Sleep well, my starlight. I will be here for you, always."

Thank you for reading! <3

[angiechia]

"Little Brother"

John joins the gang

No ship intended, just a short random thing i wrote instead of sleeping :P

☆☆☆

Some random day in 1885

The day had been awful for Arthur.

It started with some promise, as Hosea suggested a job robbing a dressmaker in Saint Denis. Arthur agreed without realizing he'd end up running from three huge dogs guarding the lady’s house like loyal bodyguards, ready to bite and tear anyone who got too close. Meanwhile, Hosea was "distracting" the lady—if you could even call it that. It looked more like he was courting her.

After all that, Arthur’s cut was only 10 dollars. Not much, he thought, but he had no choice but to take it. He decided to blow off some steam at a saloon, where some fellow tried to pull a fast one on him and picked a fight. With his ego far too big for a man of just 22, Arthur accepted the challenge, even though the drunk was twice his size.

After getting beaten up, Arthur was in a foul mood. The only thing that might calm him down was a ride out in the open, so that’s what he did.

For some reason, he chose to ride through the Bayou, a place known for its giant gators and treacherous swamps. Lucky for him, Boadicea was a brave mare—brave against gunfire, hunters, and even ferocious wolves. But gators? They scared the hell out of her, which Arthur learned when a sleeping gator spooked her. She threw him off, sending him tumbling into the mud, and he had to scramble away from the reptile, who had just been trying to get some sleep.

After that, Arthur figured he’d distract himself by picking up a newspaper from a kid selling them in Rhodes. Maybe there’d be something interesting going on. But his heart sank when he read the newlyweds section and saw a name he knew too well.

Mary Gillis had gotten married.

Or rather, Mary Linton now.

He let out a deep sigh and threw the paper in the trash, anger boiling inside him. That’s it, he thought, I’m heading back to camp. I need some sleep.

Luckily, nothing much happened on his ride back to camp. If he was fortunate, he’d get to feast on Pearson’s stew tonight, and Miss Grimshaw would probably make him take a good soak in the nearest river.

When he arrived, he left Boadicea with the other horses and tried to sneak over to his tent, hoping to avoid Hosea, Dutch, Grimshaw, or Pearson. They were always asking favors, and being the youngest in the gang, that burden often fell on him.

“There you are, Mister Morgan!” Miss Grimshaw’s voice called out. He sighed. “I was just about to ask if you could fetch me a—My word! What in the world happened to you?” the woman exclaimed, seeing him covered in mud.

“…I fell” Telling her his horse threw him off seemed a bit embarrassing, right?

“Sure looks like it… Let me see—” She moved in quick to grab his hat, probably planning to clean it up and send him off to wash, but Arthur stepped back, gently pushing her hands away. Nobody touched his hat.

“Whoa there! I reckon I’m just fine, Miss Grimshaw. Just need a little sleep.”

“You smell like you’ve been rollin’ in a cesspool, young man! I ain’t havin’ you stinkin’ up the camp. Get yourself cleaned up, you hear?” Her voice took on a sharper edge, and Arthur rolled his eyes, heading toward the river.

“Just what I needed,” he muttered, tossing his jacket on the ground. Miss Grimshaw snatched it up with a huff, planning to wash it later.

His bath was quick but did the trick, and once he was cleaned up, he headed back to camp.

“Much better, Arthur!” she said with a clap of approval as he walked past her, making him feel a bit sheepish. Once again, he made for his tent, but before he could enter, another voice stopped him.

“Mr. Morgan!” It was Pearson, the camp cook.

Arthur let out another weary sigh and made his way over to the “kitchen,” if you could call it that. “Mr. Pearson,” he greeted, his tone dry.

“I’ve had a hankerin’ for some rabbit lately,” Pearson said as he skillfully chopped vegetables. Dinner was close, the sun sinking fast.

“Rabbit?”

“Yep! Them big ones you find out on the prairies. Think you could hunt me some for tomorrow?”

At least he didn’t need it now. “Sure,” Arthur agreed, giving a nod before turning once more toward his tent. Just as he was about to step inside, he was intercepted by...

“There ya are, Arthur!” Dutch Van Der Linde.

"Now what, Dutch?" Years of trust between them allowed for a more relaxed exchange.

"Son, I heard about Mary..."

"No."

"I know, I know, Arthur. You probably don’t wanna talk about her, but… well, I remember how much you cared."

"Dutch," Arthur grumbled, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

"What I’m tryin’ to say is there’s plenty of women out there, son, plenty! You can find another."

Arthur got angry, pushing open the tent flaps without stepping inside yet. "Mary’s in the past!" he lied. "It doesn’t hurt 'cause I’m over it, and I don’t want another woman, thank you!" His tone betrayed him.

Arthur entered his tent and let the canvas flaps fall behind him, shutting Dutch out. He ran his hands over his face in frustration, cursing silently while quickly untying the bandana from his neck and shrugging off his suspenders. That’s when he heard something coming from his bed—a snore.

Arthur fumbled around his desk until he found the gas lamp and lit it. As the tent filled with light, his eyes landed on a kid with dark hair sprawled out awkwardly on his bed, uncovered, mouth open, drooling on his pillow with crooked teeth.

"And why in the hell is there a damn kid in my bed?!" Arthur bellowed from inside the tent, waking the boy with a start.

"Ah, that’s John," Dutch replied from outside. "Hosea and I rescued him today; they were gonna hang him."

"Wha... what’s goin' on?" the boy, around twelve years old, mumbled, his face barely masking the confusion as he looked up at the man before him.

"And you gave him my bed?!" Arthur got out from his tent, incredulity etched across his face, while Dutch beamed like he’d done the best deed of the day.

"Well, we didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You took your time."

"Well, here I am. But who’da thought we’d turn into a damn orphanage and start adoptin’ brats?"

"What’d you call me, old man?!" the kid hollered from behind him.

Arthur, surprised, turned slowly to face John, repeating what he’d just heard. "Old man? Old man?! I’m twenty-two!"

"Yeah, twenty-two in each foot. You’re older than a barrel of aged whiskey."

Arthur resisted the urge to pounce on the quick-tongued kid. "Who do you think you are, you little...?"

"But ain't this a heart-warmin’ sight?" Dutch chimed in with a smile. "He’s just like you were when we found you."

"At least I respected my elders," Arthur shot back, glaring at the kid sprawled in his bed. "Outta my bed, now!"

"I ain’t movin’ nowhere, old man!" John retorted.

"Oh, come on, Arthur, the boy’s exhausted. You know what it’s like to be nearly hanged? First, they tighten that noose 'round your neck so hard you can barely breathe, and when they hang you, crack, your neck snaps. Poor little John must’ve been scared outta his wits."

Arthur glanced at the kid again, who now put on a pitiful face, nodding along.

"This is a joke, right?" Arthur said, exasperated.

"You wouldn’t mind sleepin’ under the stars tonight, would ya?" Dutch asked.

Arthur looked at the man, then at the kid, sighed, and said, "Just… don’t touch my stuff," with a stern voice.

"Relax, I won’t touch your junk," little John said innocently as he settled back into bed.

"Little shit..." Arthur muttered under his breath as he walked out of the tent. He looked at Dutch. "He ain’t gonna be in my tent long, is he?"

"Well… you wouldn’t mind sharin’ it, would ya?"

"DUTCH!"

"Oh, quit your whinin’, Arthur! The boy can’t sleep alone. We don’t know if he’ll try to rob us or slit our throats in our sleep."

"And you’re makin’ me watch him?"

"You’re the youngest of the gang, ain’t you? Or, well… you were." Arthur gave him a hard look. "Look on the bright side; it’s like you got yourself a little brother."

[earthchica]

ungodly hour / four

joel miller x black! reader

summary: you and joel are getting ready to become parents as you experience all the stages of pregnancy leading up to the birth.

warning: fluff, soft! joel, baby kicking, emotions, challenging pregnancy, childbirth, age gap, language, nicknames.

__

You were now five months pregnant, and you hated every moment of it. Despite the constant back pain, the sleepless nights, and the overwhelming emotions.

Joel was right there, always ready to take care of you. He attends every check-up with you, holding your hand and asking thoughtful questions.

His unwavering support makes this challenging journey more bearable, reminding you that you are not alone.

When you felt like giving up, Joel's patience and love shone through, giving you the strength to keep going.

Each day, he finds new ways to show you how much he cares, whether rubbing your feet, running a warm bath, or simply listening when you need to vent.

These small acts of kindness mean the world to you, making the tough moments easier to endure.

You understand that the journey ahead is still long and filled with uncertainties, yet both of you can navigate through it together.

You smiled happily, going to enter your bedroom, you paused upon hearing Joel's voice.

"Do you need anything?" he inquired, instinctively getting up from his chair.

"No, I'm fine, Joel," you replied, stepping into your bedroom to grab your book.

However, in a moment of distraction, it slipped from your grasp and fell as your hands instinctively moved to your belly.

"Darling?" Joel called out, hurrying into your bedroom.

"_____, are you okay? What happened?" Concern filled his voice as he looked down at the book on the floor.

"Joel, come here," You said, motioning for him to come closer. He appeared confused, "Huh?…"

"Come feel the baby." Taking a deep breath, he nodded, approaching you and you took his big, strong hands and rested them on your belly.

"Holy shit, the baby is kicking!" Joel gasped, his face lighting up with excitement.

You nodded in agreement.

"Oh, my goodness!" You exclaimed, covering your mouth in surprise with such enthusiasm that it felt like a tiny drummer was practicing inside your belly.

You couldn't help but laugh, the unexpected joy bubbling up from within you.

Joel gazed at you with affection.

"May I?" he asked, to which you nodded. He knelt on the floor and rested his head on your belly.

Tears of joy welled up in his eyes as he marveled at the tiny life growing inside you.

It was a moment of profound connection with the bundle of joy you both were about to welcome into the world.

"Hey, little one, I'm your Daddy," he said, marveling at the tiny life growing inside, a mix of awe and overwhelming love filling his heart.

Joel gently placed his hand back on your belly, hoping to feel another kick.

As he looked into your eyes, he knew you were both embarking on a beautiful journey together.

"I love you both so much!" Joel declared, planting a kiss on your baby bump before rising to his feet.

You were taken aback by his words as you gazed into his eyes, you saw a mix of happiness, sadness, and excitement.

It was clear that he was feeling overwhelmed. He took a deep breath to calm himself, you gently placed your hand on his cheek.

“It’s okay, Joel. You deserve this, the baby already has a fondness for you,” You whispered, offering a warm smile.

He looked at you with a familiar gaze, one you thought you would never see again.

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, you didn’t even pull away. His lips connected with yours.

You immediately melted into the kiss until he reluctantly pulled away, his expression filled with guilt.

"Shit, I’m..sorry—" he started, but you interrupted him by kissing him again.

What was I doing? You thought to yourself.

You missed the softness and sweetness of his lips. You placed your right hand on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t stop, but he pulled back.

“Darling,” Joel couldn’t finish his sentence and simply walked away.

You stood there, confused, watching him go. With a sigh, you looked around, feeling foolish for kissing him back.

After spending the whole night with Joel avoiding you, bedtime arrived, but sleep eluded you.

Your thoughts were consumed by the kisses you both had shared.

Why did he run away like that? Why did you enjoy the kiss? What caused that spark?

"Who am I kidding? It was just the heat of the moment." You murmured to yourself, yet there was something undeniably special about that kiss.

The spark you felt was intense, and sweet, and left you weak in the knees.

What were you even saying? You need to take a moment.

You spent another five minutes staring at the ceiling before finally pulling back your covers and sitting up in bed.

You stepped out of your bedroom, making your way down the hall to Joel's room.

You stood outside his door with hesitation, contemplating whether or not to knock.

Something was holding you back. Yet, your inner voice urged you to just knock on the door.

Taking a deep breath, you finally did.

"Come in," Joel called out.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, a hint of nervousness in his tone.

"Um, I-I can’t sleep," You replied shyly.

Joel propped himself up slightly and pulled the covers on the left side of the bed. "Come on,"

You walked over and climbed in beside him. He tucked you in with the soft blankets, making you feel cozy.

Joel turned off the lamp to help you sleep better, and you could sense that he was trying to give you as much space as possible, as he kept shifting away.

You realized this felt strange after everything that had just happened, but you didn't want it to be awkward.

So, you took his right arm and draped it over your belly. He didn’t pull away, so it seemed okay with Joel.

You looked down as he gently caressed your belly, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach. "Joel?"

"Yeah," he replied softly.

"Why did you kiss me and run away?" A moment of silence hung between the both of you.

You turned to face him, wanting to see his expression. Both of your eyes locked, and you cupped his cheek.

"Why did you kiss me right after I kissed you?" he asked, his gaze shifting from your lips to your eyes.

"Because….." You struggled to find the right words.

"I miss it, I miss your lips, I miss everything about you," You confessed, taking a deep breath.

"Well, I kissed you because you looked so beautiful. I wish I could take back all the mistakes I've made, but I know I can’t. The only thing I can do is learn from them and never repeat them. darling, I know it will take time, but I want this…I want you and our little family. I love you so much, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make it work. All I ask is a second chance,"

Joel said earnestly, sincerity shining in his eyes. You took a few moments to reflect.

"I know you will be a wonderful dad, Joel, and I see you proving that to me every day. If we decide to 'make it work,' we’ll have to take it slow. Okay?" You asked, awaiting his response.

"Of course, I understand. That’s all I needed," he said, a big smile spreading across his face. You smiled back, turning away as he placed his hand on your belly again.

"Goodnight, Joel!" You whispered sofly as he snuggled up beside you.

"Goodnight, darling!" he replied, and we both drifted off to sleep.

_________

It feels like everything is gradually returning to how it used to be. You and Joel were still taking it slow but it has been a truly wonderful experience.

You both have been concentrating on strengthening your relationship and getting ready for parenthood.

As you approach the end of your third trimester, it hasn't been too overwhelming.

Although you’ve been mostly at home due to the end of this pregnancy.

You cherished the moments when Joel and Ellie returned and shared stories about their day.

We were unwinding in the living room after having dinner, deeply engaged in conversation.

Joel was cracking dad jokes, and Ellie couldn’t contain her laughter and playful teasing.

It was truly hard to resist smiling. These two, along with the little one growing inside of you, were your family.

You wouldn't trade them for anything in this world. You were about to join the conversation when an unusual sensation swept over you.

You let out a loud groan and glanced down at your damp pants. Joel and Ellie turned to me, concern etched on their faces.

“Darling, are you alright?” he inquired.

"I think my water just broke," You stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

Joel was by your side in an instant, his hand on your shoulder. "Let's get you to the clinic," he said firmly but gently.

"Holy shit, you two are about to have a baby," she says, her eyes sparkling with a blend of nervousness and excitement.

With Joel's arm wrapped around you, the journey to the clinic seemed to stretch on forever.

Ellie was reading some puns for you as you attempted to concentrate on her and your breathing.

Each inhale and exhale brings you one step closer to meeting your precious little one

Once you both arrived at the clinic, Charles swiftly led you to the birthing room.

The space was small yet tidy, featuring a few medical cabinets and a twin-sized surgical bed positioned in the center.

On the bed lay a hospital gown, a stark reminder of the whirlwind of emotions churning within you.

Joel assisted you in putting on the gown, and then Jackie, the nurse, busily moved into the room to check your contractions and dilation.

Joel held your hand firmly, his presence providing a steady anchor amidst the turmoil.

Hours blended together in a haze of contractions and support, until finally.

Charles declared, "It's time to push."

Summoning every bit of strength and resolve, you concentrated on bringing your baby into the world.

“Oh,” you gasped, the pain was overwhelming, yet the thought of cradling your child for the first time fueled your determination.

“You can do this, baby,” Joel encouraged, kissing your forehead while gripping your hand tightly.

Then, the room filled with the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

The cry of your and Joel's newborn.

“You have a healthy baby girl,” Charles said, as tears streamed down your cheeks while he gently placed the tiny, squirming bundle into your arms.

"Oh…my god…hi baby girl," you whispered, your heart brimming with love and wonder.

You glanced at Joel, who wore a mixture of emotions on his face.

“She resembles you perfectly… so beautiful,” he said, kissing your forehead softly and then your daughter's.

“Would you like to hold her?” You asked, noticing his slight apprehension, and gently cupped his cheek to reassure him.

“Yeah!” He nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to cradle the tiny bundle in his arms.

The moment their eyes met, a serene smile spread across his face, and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally cascaded down his cheeks.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe she’s ours.”

You watched them, your heart swelling with love and pride. It was a moment you had dreamed of and now, seeing him so tender and vulnerable, you felt a deeper connection than ever before.

“She’s our little angel,” you replied softly. The room was filled with a profound sense of peace and joy as if time itself had paused to honor this precious family moment.

As you marveled at your daughter's tiny features, you noticed how she seemed to already recognize his voice.

Her tiny fingers curled around his thumb. It was as if she knew she was safe, loved, and cherished beyond measure.

Jackie returned to assist in cleaning me up and taking my vital signs, while Charles did the same for your little one.

Eventually, after a few days, they ensured that both of you were ready to go home.

The nursery was filled with a cozy warmth, and the soft murmur of our conversation created a peaceful atmosphere.

We tossed around names like Chloe, Sade, and Grace, each one bringing a new wave of excitement and anticipation.

Joel gently stroked her tiny back, his eyes twinkling with love and pride.

The baby cooed softly, her small fingers curling around his thumb.

"How about Amelia?" You suggested, watching Joel's face light up with a smile while looking down at the baby.

"Amelia," he repeated, testing the name on his lips. "I like it. It sounds beautiful, just like her."

You both nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of completeness wash over us.

Our little Amelia yawned, her tiny fists curling close to her face as if she approved of the name herself.

At that moment, everything felt perfect, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

tags

@orcasoul

@joeldjarin