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lis-likes-fics · 22 days ago

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Strung Up

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 32.8k words Warnings: NSFW, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (violence), graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of death, murder, blood, gore, anxiety, panic attack, implications of stalking, frequent swearing, drug use, alcohol use, manipulation, degradation (not always in the sexy way), dubious consent, light praise kink, fingering, groping, oral sex, multiple orgasms, spanking, titty fucking, masturbation, vaguely masochistic tendencies… A/N: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Not all of the warnings are listed above, but the full list of warnings is provided here. The only reason they're not all here is to avoid spoilers throughout the story, but none of the warnings unlisted here should be trigger warnings. If you're still unsure, please feel free to check the list. But if you want to go into this blind, go right ahead! A/N II: Okay so...I did finish the last two scenes at 3 o'clock in the morning last night, but hey! We finished! This is the last upload for my Kinktober 2024 event. I'm glad I was able to finish just in time, and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I did (even though I almost gave up five different times but that's not important.) Thank you so much and Happy Halloween! A/N III: The story is too long so Tumblr won't let me post this. Because of this, I will ahve to split it into two parts (which is annoying bc it will really damage notes and stuff and it's harder to manage >:( )

"Sonova bitch!”

You resist the urge to kick your tire. It's midnight, you're practically in the middle of the woods, and you're alone. Your car broke down along the way home, and now you're worried you'll have to walk for God-only-knows how long just to get help.

You look around, trying to figure out what to do without a car or any telephone nearby. You curse under your breath, bracing your hands on the side of the car as you lean against it.

You hear tires in the distance, and perk your head up at the chance of some luck coming your way.

But the only thing coming your way is a large, almost creaky van. Upon seeing you, it begins to slow down to a creeping pace, and you wonder if you should just make a break for it.

Just your luck, too. You're stuff on the side of the road in the middle of the night with no way to communicate with a single living soul, and now there's a creepy van inching toward you like you're about to meet your end.

Your back is stiff, and your nerves are frayed. “Just a van driving toward you,”you mutter to yourself. “Nothing scary about that at all.”

As the blinding lights shine across you, you raise a hand and squint your eyes against the strain. It pulls into the side of the road, parking behind you as the lights continue to blare.

“Hey,” a guy says as he swings the door open and steps out. You give a wary smile at first, waving timidly back at him. “Something wrong?”

It's hard to see him. All you see is the outline of his figure against the lights. He's taller than you, with big bushy hair and wide shoulders. You try not to shrink away from this dark, shadowy thing of a man.

You bump the toe of your shoe against the tire, crossing your arms as your hand pulls nervously at the collar of your work shirt. “Stupid engine died on me.”

He gestures to the car, his voice is actually kind of nice, and a bit familiar… “A beauty like this?” He pats the back of it, wild hair shifting as he looks down at it. “That's surprising.”

You shrug. “Yeah, everyone thinks it's such a great car. It's actually a piece of shit.” You chuckle lightly, and he joins you. “Do you think you could help?”

He steps to the side, and some light finally shines on one side of his face. You start to piece together his features, squinting your eyes and realizing why his voice is so familiar. You're put at some ease now that you recognize him. Your shoulders fall, and the features of your face calm.

“Wait, you're that Eddie guy. At my school?”

He looks up at you, a smile tugging at his lips as he nods. “That's me. The Eddie guy.” He holds out his ringed-up hand. “Eddie Munson.”

You take it, the cold of his rings a slight surprise against the warmth of your palm. “I'm–”

“I'm well aware, sweetheart.”

You purse your lips, chuckling lightly at the way he says it. It's not mean in any way, but there's an undertone that you find slightly unsettling.

He squints the corners of his dark eyes, making a cringing face as he nods slowly. “Sorry, that sounds bad. Uhh–”

“No, all good,” you say quickly. You shuffle on your feet, chuckling lightly to try and ease the tension between you. “You're not gonna, like, kill me and stuff my corpse in the back of your van, right?”

He smiles, laughing as he shakes his head. “No, all good.” He raises his fingers in the air, one hand over his heart as he bows a little. “Scout's honor.”

You nod. “Cool.” You glance back at your car and pat the hood. “You think you could help me out, Eddie Munson? Maybe a hot wire?”

He cringes slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. His muscle tee rides up a little from the movement, revealing a slip of his tummy shone gently in his headlights. “Unfortunately, my old girl can't handle a hot wire. I love her, but she's a bit of a piece of shit, too.”

You hum, your shoulders falling slightly. “Oh, that sucks.”

“But…” He steps over to your open door, leaning inside to pop the hood before he walks past you to look at the engine. “I'll tell you what, I can tow it and get it fixed for you.” He seems pleased with this answer. He smiles like a dork. “I help out at an auto shop, they know me. And,” he rubs his hand over the side of the car, admiring the make, “I think they'd be thrilled to work on a nice thing like this.”

Sparks of hope shoot like fireworks in your eyes when you look at him. “”Really?” Then you backpedal as you second guess yourself. “I wouldn’t wanna bother.”

“Psh, no bother, at all.” He says it so casually, like the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. The amount of work, money, time—it doesn’t seem to mean anything to him. “I’ll hook her up and take you home.”

You clasp your hands together, a wide smile falling on your face. “Thank you so much.” You start walking toward his van with him, watching as he opens your door for you like a true gentleman. “I’m so glad you’re not some sort of creep.”

As you sit down, his smile widens with his joke. “You never know.” He winks at you, and it makes you laugh. If he were some middle-aged man, you’d truly be worried. But he’s really just some really nice (and kind of hot) weirdo who goes to your school. He’s not threatening, at all.

Once Eddie’s got your car properly fastened to the back of his van, he’s driving down the lightened road with the radio gently underscoring the otherwise silent air. He taps the wheel gently, glancing over at you every now and then when you’re looking out of the window at your side.

“So,” he mutters, “why are you out here so late?”

You chuckle lightly, scratching your neck absent-mindedly. “Leaving work.” You purse your lips. “My hours are kinda ridiculous.”

His brows raise. “Damn. Sounds like you need a new job.”

You shrug a shoulder lazily. “Eh. Pays well, good boss, one shitty coworker.” You look at him and smile. “It’s nothing.”

“At least it’s not a shitty boss.”

You nod eagerly, laughing lightly in agreement. “Got that right. I got lucky.”

His eyes keep switching between you and the road. He leans his elbow on his arm rest, still steering with one hand on the wheel. “So where do you work?” he wonders curiously.

“Retail.” There’s a crack on the passenger’s side mirror, and you briefly wonder how it got there. “This semi-expensive place, like twenty minutes from my house.”

He tilts his head to the side with a hum, as if the distance is another reason to quit. “Good pay.”

Another involuntary chuckle rises from your chest. “Good pay,” you echo. “What about you?” You turn to him, your head tilted. Then your eyes close and you purse your lips, raising a hand to brush down your face. “You totally said you help out at an auto shop, didn’t you?”

He laughs heartily. “I did, but I actually work at Radio Shack.” You nod like working at Radio Shack is this super interesting thing. “Pays kinda meh, shitty boss, couple good coworkers but the others kinda hate me.”

You lean back against the seat, sighing like it's happening to you. “That sucks. I'm sorry.”

Eddie shrugs. “S’fine, I'm used to it.” He grins a little. “That's what happens when you listen to this.”

He turns the station, turning it up a little as the rambunctious sounds of metal music almost blast through the speakers.

You've never been a fan of metal, but the popular rhetoric of it being music from the devil was annoying. Music is music.

“And when you play RPGs.” He turns the music back down.

You smirk, raising a brow at him. “So you're a nerd?”

An almost startled laugh rises from his throat, it almost sounds like a snort. “Maybe a little,” he says. His smile is so big, you wonder if his cheeks hurt. Then you wonder if he's this nice to everyone.

“That’s okay. I like a good nerd.”

He glances over his shoulder teasingly. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod, chuckling to yourself with a gentle giddy. “Mhm.”

The rest of the ride is as calm and as pleasant. Eddie's good company, and you find yourself genuinely hoping that you continue to be friends after this.

Soon enough, he's pulling into your posh neighborhood. The street lamps have been on for a long time, illuminating your relatively expensive house and the large tree in front of it in a gentle golden light. The porch lights are on, so your parents must be (obviously) asleep.

Eddie jogs across the front of his van to open the door for you. “Tada!” he exclaims quietly as he gestures dramatically toward your home. As you step out, still looking at your house with a furrowed brow, your skin prickles and the back of your neck goes cold as you begin to realize something.

“I…never gave you my address.”

You turn to look at Eddie, who's smiling really widely. His dark fringe kisses his lashes, his lips are pulled taut by the stretch of his smile, which is lingering strangely on his face. A tiny huff of breath passes from his mouth.

There's a strange silence as he stares at you, looking like someone's pressed pause on him. It's just short enough that it's easy to miss.

“I've been to one of your parties before.”

Oh.

“You have?” You think quickly, trying to remember seeing his face and falling short. “I've never seen you at one.”

“Yeah…” he says. “Not really my crowd.” Eddie closes your door after you've grabbed your things. “A friend invited me, but I left quick.” He shrugs a shoulder, “Besides, atmosphere wasn't super welcoming.”

Right. He's a social outcast.

“Oh,” you mumble. It doesn't sit well with you. You wished you would have noticed him. At least then you could have tried to make it better for him. He's a really sweet guy…

“Who’s your friend? I think I heard Steve Harrington mention you before,” you wonder. Steve is a friend of yours, and he’s been to nearly all of your parties.

“Yeah, he invited me.” He shrugs. “But I went with Jonathan Byers.” You know the name, another social outcast. He and his brother are very kindly looked upon, especially after the incident where his little brother was lost in the woods. That’s the only time you ever spoke to him, to offer your sympathies. If you’re thinking correctly, he’s a pothead now.

You give him a smile. “Well, I'd like to formally invite you to my next one—whenever that is, then I can properly welcome you and your friend.”

He laughs lightly, doing a grand flourish with his hand as he bows to you. “Well, thank you very much.”

You gesture toward the back of his van. “And my car?”

He nods dutifully. “I'll get that fixed up for you in no time.” Then he thinks for a moment. “Well, a little bit of time, but not too long.”

“Oh.” You nod, smiling still. You glance off down the street like you're looking for something. “I’ll just have to figure out a ride to school then… My boyfriend kind of lives out of the way and both my parents work.”

You miss the way his shoulders sink, his smile easing just a bit. He brings a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Well…” he speaks slowly, slower than he means to. “I can come pick you up.”

You clasp your hand again in a slightly pleading manner, but there's so much kindness in your eyes. “You're already helping out so much.”

A small sense of pride swells in his chest. “It's not a problem, really. I'm happy to.”

You set a hand on his shoulder, and you feel it tense a little through the thickness of his leather jacket. “I'd really appreciate it.” It's sincere, and you hope he knows. “Thank you.”

He puts his hand over yours. “No problem.” Then he clears his throat and lets go of your hand so you can have it back.

You start walking backwards. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

He raises an open palm, doesn't wave it or anything. “Night…”

You turn around and head inside. He watches you put the key in your door and walk inside.

Eddie stands there still, sighing gently as he wonders what he's going to do with himself. You're just so sweet and so pretty. You're perfect.

You're everything he was hoping for.

You've been trying to speak to him for the past ten minutes.

The lunch table isn't as full today. A couple buddies from the team are gone, their girlfriends included—which also means Brynn isn't here to resort to either.

You sigh, rolling your eyes as Jake's lips suck on your neck still. He hasn't moved from this spot unless it's to go to the other side of your neck in ten minutes. His hands are all over your waist, and when he nips at you, you huff.

“Hey, can you chill?”

He hums, not letting up as he continues to suck on you like a goddamn vampire. “What's wrong, baby?” he mumbles against your neck.

You push him off of you so that he'll look at your face. His lips are a little swollen from the attention, and his eyes are hooded like you've just been going down on him or something.

“I'm trying to talk to you, and you’re trying to fuck me in the middle of the cafeteria.

“I'm sorry,” he says, kissing your lips gently. He sighs lightly and smiles. “What were you saying?”

So he wasn't paying attention? You thought as much.

You turn to him. “I was saying that I might get fired.”

He furrows his brows. “Why?”

You brush a hand down your face to calm yourself before you yell at him for being so inattentive. You lick your lips, centering yourself with a sigh as you pull a sarcastic grin over your face.

“Because Cassidy found us making out in the storage closet during my lunch break—which you suggested after I said it was a bad idea.” There's a small grin on his face, and you have a feeling he isn't listening again.

He shrugs, “Cassidy’s a bitch who's been trying to get you fired for months. She's not doing it now.”

Your stress is getting to you now. You reach out to grab his face in the hopes that it'll make him pay a little more attention. “Except this time, she's got me for indecency in the workplace. Which could be filed under sexual harassment. That can get me fired.”

He furrows his brows a little in confusion. He grabs your wrists and pulls them off his face, down to his lap. “I think you're being ridiculous,” he shrugs a shoulder like what he's said isn't a ridiculous statement. “Aren't you training to be like…a crew lead or something?”

His hands fall to your waist, and you ignore him as he leans in again to keep sucking on your neck. He tilts your head up, holding your chin still as he has at it.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Which is why I'm stressed out. She's going to tell my boss, and she's going to fire me.”

He pulls away from your neck. You watch his face twist in more confusion. He stares at you for a second, then glances away, and then looks back at you. “Why would you get fired?”

You stare at him with an astonished glare in your eyes. “You don't…” you huff unbelievingly and swat his hands away from you, “...fucking listen.”

You stand up and start gathering your things, wiping absent-mindedly at your neck as you throw your bag over your shoulder. He watches you, ever-confused as you storm away from him. “Where are you going?”

When you plop down next to Eddie, he seems unsurprised. He looks over at you and smiles. The rest of his table isn't fazed by your entrance—you come over a lot and you're nice, so they don't care.

“Hey! How's it goin’?” Eddie's happy to see you, and it's already making you feel better. He notices the way your face is screwed up, and he's come to know the look well by now. His face falls a little, concern lining his forehead as it does. “What's wrong?”

His warm hand comes to rest at your face, rubbing lightly between your shoulder blades. It's a soothing thing that actually helps to calm you down a bit. “Jake's pissing me off.”

“How?” He sounds almost as exasperated as you.

You sigh gently, getting ready to recount the story for a listening ear. “A couple days ago, I was on my lunch break at work and he convinced me to…” it's a little awkward telling Eddie about your semi-sexual habits, but you know he won't judge you, “...to make out with him in the storage closet, and my goddamn coworker saw us and is going to tattle.” You drop your face into your hands. “I could get fired for this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment. “This is…Cassidy, right? Cassidy Franklin?”

“Yeah.” You sit up again, probably looking as hopeless as you feel.

He brings his foot up to prop against his chair, tilting his head to one side to let his hair fall off his shoulder. “Isn't she that same girl who started the rumor about Betty Carter and Richard Vance making porn tapes for money?” He raises a brow, “And that one about Steve being in a relationship with Jonathan?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“Huh?” Jonathan asks, looking up from his food at the mention of his name. Eddie waves him off, rolling his eyes before he looks back over to you. He smiles, opening his hands. “She's a rumormonger. No one's gonna believe her. Especially not your manager. Your manager loves you and everyone hates Cassidy Franklin.”

You think about that, and it's making you feel better. You nod again. “You might be right.”

He wraps a hand around his knee, smiling to himself like he's so pleased to hear that he's right. “Besides, it'll probably end up coming back to her anyway.” He tilts his head, leaning in fondly as he flutters his lashes at you. ”People like that don't always get away with being assholes.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, nodding. “Okay. You're right, yeah. She's a bitch.”

“Who’s a bitch?” Robin’s head pops up. She looks between the two of you, curiosity all over her face.

You shrug. “My coworker.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and nodding. “Yeah, my coworker’s a bitch, too.”

You chuckle lightly, glancing at Eddie. “Don’t you work with Steve?” You’ve checked out movies at Family Video from them before. They seemed to mostly be getting along.

“Yeah, why?” She smirks slyly, returning to her conversation with Argyle. You don’t know what they’re talking about, but you’re not sure it’s going to make a lot of sense with the way his eyes look right now.

Eddie’s smiling when you look back at him. “Anyway, don't sweat it. Everything's gonna be fine…’kay?” He holds out his pinky, squeezing with a funny kind of harshness when you wrap yours around it.

You nod. “Okay.” You sigh, and this time it actually feels like you're letting go of the stress. Eddie always knows how to make you feel better. “Thanks. My boyfriend's an idiot, and it feels like you're the only person who listens to me sometimes.”

He furrows his brow curiously, turning toward his bag of pretzels sitting almost forgotten on the table. He pulls a couple from the bag, picking them individually from his palm. “What about your friend? What's her name—Brooklyn?”

“Brittany.” Your smile sours. “And, yeah, Brynn spends a lot more time with her boyfriend now than she does with me, so I might have to remind her that I exist first.”

He scoffs, shaking his hand as he looks down at his pretzels. “Shitty friend,” he mumbles under his breath. He seems genuinely and deeply upset. His brow furrows maybe a little more than it should.

You look over his expression, briefly wondering why he cares so much. “Just a bit,” you mutter absent-mindedly. You look at the time. Lunch is almost over. “Anyway, thanks, Eddie.”

He seems to snap out of it then, a large grin returning to his face. “No problem.”

You set a hand on his arm, smiling hopefully. “Hey, are you free tonight?” Something glints in his eyes. “Jake's hanging out with his boys and, like I said, Brynn's with her boy. I wanted to watch that new movie.”

It's a horror movie, Annihilator. You know Eddie likes horror movies, and you don't want to watch it alone. Or, rather, you'd prefer to watch it with him.

Eddie does this weird thing sometimes where he pauses. It's like his brain suddenly freezes and he just stops moving. He stares at you. His smile intact and his face just as Eddie-ish as usual, but just a little…off.

It only ever lasts a moment though.

“Raincheck?” he asks regrettably. “I'm hanging with my uncle tonight. We've been planning it for a while now.”

“Oh, sure,” you chirp. You know how much his uncle means to him. They don't usually get time together since he always works so late. “No problem. Tomorrow night?”

He smiles that proud grin again. He does it a lot. You think it's sweet.

“Absolutely.”

“See you then.” You steal a pretzel as you move to stand.

He waves you off with wiggling fingers and a cheeky grin. “See you.” He winks on your way out.

Dragging yourself out of the bed the next morning was hard. You don’t know why. You just woke up and felt like maybe tonight was the type of day not to go to school.

And, technically, you could if you wanted to. Both your parents are gone on a business trip—they left before you even woke up that morning. They won’t be back for at least a week. You could ditch and the worst that would happen is a phone call that you could delete if it was really necessary enough to do so in the first place.

But anyway, you don’t. You drag yourself out of bed, get ready for school, and head downstairs for breakfast. You're stirring sugar into your tea when you turn on the TV, switching through the channels to find the cartoons.

Something catches your eyes when a news channel flashes on the screen. You flip back to it quickly, and you stop mid-stir at what you find.

“–about a gruesome murder is tearing through Hawkins like a wildfire.” You drop the spoon in your mug, turning the volume up loud. “The life of a student at Hawkins High School, known as the basketball captain Jason Carver, was taken last night by a suspect police have yet to identify. Hawkins PD is still–”

You rush to the phone, dialing Brynn’s number faster than you ever have before. It rings only a couple times before the dial tone ends. You give her no time to speak.

“Are you watching the news right now?”

“Yeah. Jason fucking Carver? Who the fuck would do this?” She sounds distraught, as distraught as you feel.

You swallow thickly, pacing as much as you can with the short cord keeping you tethered to the phone. You start to worry. What if this isn’t a one time thing? What if people are actually in danger—your boyfriend, your friends. “Don’t ask me.” You start to feel sick.

“This is insane.” She sighs heavily through the line.

“You’re telling me.”

“How’s your car?” she asks, your words running a mile a minute. “Do I need to take you to school?”

It takes you a moment to respond. Your eyes had gotten stuck to the screen. There are police lights and caution tape and people everywhere. It feels so unreal. “Uh—It’s fine.” You clear your throat, wiping a hand over your face. “Especially after Eddie worked on it.”

You can almost hear the scowl in her voice. “You still hang out with him?”

Here we go. “You don’t hang out with me.”

“He’s probably the one who killed Jason.”

Her comment is a slap in the face. You can’t describe the anger and disgust that rises in your throat at what she’d just said. It’s corrosive, and you wish you could show her how upset it actually makes you, but you can’t. So instead, you say, “Why the fuck would you say that?”

Your tone makes her back off. Not by a lot, but enough for her to second guess. “He’s like…a satanist or something.”

“Or something.” You shake your head. “He’s just a nerd, and he’s kind.” You mean it in a nice way. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

She scoffs. “Whatever.” She takes a moment, calms down, and then says with more sincerity than annoyance. “Don’t get fucking killed.”

“You, too.”

“I’ll see you in class.”

“Bye.” You hang up. You stare at the screen again, staring for a while as you try to process this. You knew Jason. He was your friend—or, he was relatively your friend. You were dating one of the members on his team, so you’ve known him for a while. Now that he’s gone… It’s just such a bizarre concept to digest.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You dial Jake’s house phone, waiting and waiting for it to pick up, only for it to flatline. With a huff, you try again. When it still doesn’t go through, you start to go for a third time when you catch the time. You’re gonna be late. You’ll see him there anyway.

You try to ignore the gnawing feeling that you might not.

You lean against your locker next to Eddie, holding onto your bag as your hands worry away at the strap. “I just can’t believe this happened.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Eddie says. He shrugs a shoulder, “I mean, this place has been kinda cursed for a while but something like this?”

You shake your head, imagining the scenes you’ve been told by the amount of people you’ve walked past or talked to since you left the house. “It was so brutal. They said he was gutted and then hung from a fucking tree.” Your gut twists with the image. “I keep looking over my shoulder like this killer’s gonna be there.”

Eddie's hand comes to cup your elbow. He rubs it soothingly with a reassuring glint in his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry about that kinda stuff. Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” His thumb strokes the meat of your arm. He offers you a smile.

You nod. “I hope so.” You glance behind Eddie, catching sight of Chrissy. It’s a wonder she even showed up today. She’s walking through the halls with her eyes down at the floor, moving so sluggishly that you wonder briefly if she’s really just some zombie roaming the halls. You speak quietly. “I can’t imagine how Chrissy must be feeling. She’s such a sweet person, she doesn’t deserve this kinda thing.”

Eddie’s eyes linger on her as she continues walking down the hall. He swallows thickly. “Yeah…”

His brows suddenly furrow. A crease wedges itself between them as he sees something, and he lets out a sigh as he glances away, straightening his posture as he goes. His thumb rubs your elbow one more time before letting you go. “Hey, I’ll see you later, okay?” You nod. “Stay safe.” He says it with an intensity that honestly warms your heart.

“You, too.” He gives you a quick smile and then leaves. You turn around to watch him go just as you see Jake walking toward you. That makes sense. The two eye each other as they pass, and Jake looks at you like he’s annoyed by something.

The sight of him had initially brought you some relief. You were worried that something happened to him when he didn’t answer the phone this morning. The more you look at him though, the more that feeling sours and becomes something more exasperated than anything else.

You turn around with a sigh, leaning against the locker again on your other elbow. He comes up to you, a partial scowl set upon his face. “Was that Eddie Munson?”

You hate the way he says his name. It pisses you off every time you hear it. “Yeah.”

“Why are you hanging out with him?” He looks genuinely pissed out. You roll your eyes, ready to leave this conversation because it’s such a petty thing to be arguing about right now. Someone just fucking died—one of Jake’s closest friends just fucking died—and he’s upset that you’re hanging out with some guy who plays DND? You were worried he was dead, and this is how he greets you.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that question?” You seethe the question, trying not to bring any attention to yourself as you lean in to talk to him, your own scowl set to combat his own. He huffs and shakes his head, but decides it’s probably just best to drop it.

“You didn’t call me this morning.” Your quiet anger is biting at your fingertips. You try to remind him of the situation because it doesn’t seem to be registering for him. “A student at Hawkins High was killed, and you didn’t call me this morning.”

Jake sighs, running a hand down his face as he thinks about it. You finally start to see the grief threatening to peek through as he looks away from you. “I was on the team with Jason. My parents were bitching about being safe.” His voice is quieter now, not as firm.

You start to feel bad now. You’ve been bitching about him lately about his bad behavior. You’re doing it right now, when what he really needs is your support. You sigh, looking down at your feet as you offer a truce in the way of cradling his arm in your palm. He looks at you, his eyes softening with your own. You just look at him for a moment and take a breath.

“I just don’t understand.” Your voice would be a whisper if there weren’t so many people crowding the halls. You have no doubt that every single one of them is talking about Jason Carver, former captain of the basketball team. “It’s all so surreal. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”

He lifts his hand to your cheek, offering his comfort. “Hey,” he says gently, “everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure you’re good. You can stay at my place until this all clears up.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re even with him. But then he does stuff like this, and you start to feel a little better about the struggle. “We can also have Brynn and Andrew over to make it fun. How does that sound?”

Better than you thought it would. You haven’t been around them in a while. You feel like maybe you shouldn’t delay that any longer.

“Yeah.” You nod, hyping yourself up a bit as you offer a little smile. “Yeah, that’ll be nice. Thanks.”

His smile widens a bit. He leans in. “Anything for my girl.” He kisses you. It’s a gentle kiss, and it makes you feel better because it feels like he means it. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you can’t help but to smile against his lips.

You take a nap as soon as you get home. The whole day has been so exhausting, weighed down by all the grief and confusion. There’s a team meeting after school, so you have to wait for that to finish before Jake comes to get you.

When you wake up, it’s almost eight o’clock. It’s weird. The meeting should’ve been over by now.

It’s too quiet. The silence is making your skin crawl, and you reach for the remote in a desperate need to fix it. When it’s on, you immediately regret making that so.

“A second murder shakes the grounds of Hawkins as another student by the name of Cassidy Franklin is killed only an hour ago at–”

Your shock is interrupted by a tiny clattering sound. You nearly jump out of your skin as your gaze is immediately drawn upstairs. You feel yourself begin to shake, and you don’t think you can move after you’ve turned off the TV just as quickly as you turned it on.

Everything is so still now. Even the air refuses to move as you wait for anything—another sound, more silence. Anything.

You will yourself to move as you go to the kitchen, pulling the biggest knife from its sheath and ignoring the way it trembles with your fear. The tension is the air so palpable, you genuinely believe you could cut it with the knife you have clenched in your tight fists.

You feel dumb walking upstairs, toward the noise you just heard. You feel like you might die if you go any further, but you also feel like if the killer is actually in your house, then you’ll probably die if you stay downstairs, too.

You turn every knob like it’s searing hot. Every time a door opens, you feel like your heart has jumped out of your throat and then forced its way back down once you’ve confirmed there’s no one there (or rather, once you don’t see anyone because you refuse to investigate any further).

When you reach your bedroom, you think you might die. Maybe not from the killer, but from the heart attack you feel creeping up your chest.

On your bed is a single letter and a strange doll thing. You don’t feel like your heart is beating when you walk into the room. You almost slip multiple times over your own feet just trying to get to your bed. When you’re standing there, you’re frightened by something moving beside you, and you genuinely do jump this time.

Your window is open. The curtains swayed gently with a light gust of wind coming through.

Yes. You think you might die.

You swallow thickly, trying to keep your tears choked down as you pick up the doll. It looks handmade. The arms are thin and pillowy, so are the legs. Neither of them have hands or feet, and it has a stitch mouth and buttons for eyes. In a weird, abstract way, you think it sort of looks like you. The skin tone is the same and the buttons match your eye color, at least.

It falls from your hands more than you set it down. They’re shaking so badly, you don’t think you’d have been capable of putting it down yourself.

When you look at the letter, the paper also looks like it’s been folded and glued by hand. Your name is written across the front in handwriting you’ve never seen before. You force yourself to open it to see what’s inside.

When you pull out the note, you cover your mouth as you throw it back down, stumbling away. Tears spring to your eyes, despite your best effort to keep them away. There’s a smudge of blood on the paper. It doesn’t look old.

You squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath like it’ll wake you up from some terrible dream. But when you open your eyes again and find yourself in the same room, you try not to choke on your tears.

As your entire body trembles, you find your way back to the bed. You pick up the note and do your best to keep your hands still (miserably) so you can read it.

I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet. And once they’re all gone, we will be together.

A startled cry rips its way from your throat. You collapse to the floor as your chest heaves uncontrollably. This is too much stress. You can’t take all of this.

You don’t know how long you spend on the floor like this—sobbing and losing a lot of water—but once you’ve wracked up the strength, you crumple the letter into a ball and grab the doll by its torso, squeezing with all the fear and anger in your chest. You open your closet door, throwing them both at the wall with all your strength and forcing the door shut.

You calm your breath enough to stop your tears and wipe at your face, rushing down the stairs with the bag you’d already packed. You’re out of the door in barely any time, getting in the car as quickly as possible and you tear a path straight to Jake’s house.

Once you’re there, you don’t see his father’s car, so you assume he’s working overtime at the department to catch this killer. The way your fists pound on the front door is insistent. You almost sock Jake right in the face as soon as it’s open.

“Fuck,” he says quickly, his words rushing from his mouth. “I’m so sorry, babe. I lost track of time and–”

You don’t listen to him. You throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. He smells vaguely of your perfume. You try not to cry again. It’s not too hard, seeing as you already cried a ton of tears earlier onto your bedroom floor.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You sound pathetic, but you don’t care enough to try to fix it.

“Yeah. Come on.” He opens the door wider, pulling his arm tightly around you as he tucks the both of you into the house. He closes the door behind you, still holding onto you as you pull him tight. He eases your face back into his chest. “What’s got you so freaked out?”

You don’t know what to tell him. You tell him the truth, he might believe you, he might not. If he does, he might decide to go on a killing spree to deal with whoever he thinks could have done it (you have a suspicious feeling that Eddie will be at the top of the list, simply because he doesn’t like him). There are just too many variables, and you’re too tired and too scared to deal with any of them.

“I…” you sigh shakily, “I’m just surprised by…Cassidy’s death.” Cassidy’s fucking dead. You almost forgot about that with all the insanity swarming through your head.

As his hand strokes down the back of your head, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek as he speaks. “You worked with her, didn’t you?” He sounds genuinely curious. He really wasn’t listening…

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head. “That’s crazy.” He sets his chin on top of your head and keeps rubbing your back.

“Jake.” You pull away from him just enough to look at his face. His hands cradle your elbows as your own clutch desperately at his sides. You need to know. “Do you love me?”

He stares at you and nods, bringing a hand to your cheek. His thumb strokes it, just like before. His hand is hot. “Yeah.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, searching his eyes for something to hold onto it. “Would you…” You try to steady your breath, swallowing thickly. “Would you let anything bad happen to me?”

You don’t expect him to say yes, but you need to hear it all the same. “‘Course not,” he says. “You’re my girl.”

You lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He cranes his neck down to meet you, and his hands fall down to your waist. You bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, trying to bring him down further. You need to forget about all of this. Just for a moment. You want to forget.

“Make me feel better,” you mutter against his lips.

He smiles a little, bringing his hands down further to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his wait. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Welcome, students.”

The gym is packed full of students. All the students and faculty are sitting in the bleachers or standing around the gym floor, watching the principal and the police officers giving an announcement front and center. You sit so close to Jake that your hips are practically glued together. Brynn’s on your other side with Andrew next to her. You keep wanting to glance over your shoulder where Eddie is sitting with his group, but you decide it’s probably best not to for the sake of not dealing with your friends and boyfriend’s bad attitudes.

“I know we are all aware of the recent losses in our community. Many of us are grieving the beloved memory of these fallen students. In an effort to avoid losing any more of them, our chief of police is going to set a few rules in place to keep our community safe from this unidentified individual.”

Principal Higgins steps back to offer Chief Hopper the floor. He steps forward, already looking tired as he directs his attention to the giant crowd staring at him.

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He gets straight to business. “From now on and until the killer is found, a town-wide curfew will be implemented.” People start murmuring in protest. “No one is to be out of their homes past nine o’clock. All doors will be locked and-”

Everyone is talking now. There are murmurs and shouts and boo’s and all kinds of protest as they respond frustratedly to these new rules. You personally don’t oppose them too much…

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jake groans.

“This fucking sucks!” “What the hell, man?” “Seriously?” “We didn’t do anything!”

Chief Hopper isn’t having it. He cares little for the commotion, and it’s really just pissing him off.

“Hey!”

Everyone is immediately silenced. His voice is even harder now as he yells over the silence. He makes sure to enunciate every word. “All doors and windows will be locked. You are advised to come to school and then go straight home to reduce the risk of being hurt. Police will be patrolling the streets to ensure these rules are being followed. We advise you to stay in groups and be vigilant of your surroundings. Anyone caught breaking curfew will be brought in for questioning, which could lead to a possible arrest.” There’s more silence. No one wants to interrupt him again. “Am I understood?”

Everyone murmurs their reluctant agreement.

“Thank you.”

He stands back again. Principal Higgins steps forward. “Thank you, Chief Hopper.” He clasps his hands together. “Now let us all close our eyes and bow our heads for…”

You’ve tuned him out by now. You don’t have the strength to listen to him right now. You keep replaying that note in your head over and over again.

Once they’re all gone, we will be together…

“They’re calling him Ghostface,” Jake mumbles, keeping his voice low to avoid being called out. “‘Cause of the mask they found at Cassidy’s crime scene.”

You try not to flinch. “Why are we calling him anything but a murderer?”

He shrugs. “I mean, there are a lot of murderers.”

You glance at him, but you ultimately keep your gaze fixated on your hands as you rub at your palms. “I don’t think we should be villainizing him. I mean, people actually like villains.” I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet…

He sighs lightly. “I think it’s a pretty sick name.”

“Jake.”

“Just saying.”

There’s a weird feeling burning into your back, like someone’s watching you. It spreads like a wave, and you fight the urge to shudder as you glance behind you to see what it is.

You see Eddie, and your worries are set aside. He offers a tiny grin and a thumbs up. He wants to know if you’re okay. You return the smile as best you can and give him your own thumb. You turn back around, feeling a little better about everything.

As soon as the assembly is dismissed, everyone is making their way back to class or wherever they intend to go. Jake kisses your temple and runs off with his buddies. Brynn and Andrew go with him.

Walking by yourself, you rub a hand over your arm to self-soothe. You’re at school. Nothing is going to happen while you’re at school. You go to your locker just to be there. You don’t want to go to class yet, and you don’t want to stand in the middle of the gym or the hall like some loser.

You’re there for barely a minute before someone’s standing next to you. You flinch when you realize it, quickly calming when you recognize Eddie and his sweet face. He gives you an apologetic look. “You okay? Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You nod, grabbing his arm and sighing with a small smile. “All good.” You grab your stuff and start down the hall with him at your side. You assume he’s walking you to class because his is at the other side of the school.

“How are you…?”

Both of you pause at the sound of Eddie’s name, pausing by the hall as you hear the familiar voices of some of Jake’s team members.

“Your girlfriend hangs out with that Munson guy?”

“I keep telling her.” Jake seems as displeased as Tommy H.

“Your girl’s a fucking freak for that, man.” That’s Andrew, Brynn’s boyfriend. You’ve learned to tune him out at this point.

“Hey, cut it out, Andy.” Chance is probably the most sane of the group, but he’s still an asshole. “That’s his fucking girlfriend.”

“Keep talking shit about her, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Tommy’s voice is obnoxious. “Shouldn’t say that, or they’ll arrest you.” A round of laughter sparks among them. Jake’s is the loudest.

“Maybe they should.”

“They should just arrest Munson,” Chance deadpans. Your grasp tightens around a textbook. You’re getting sick of hearing it. “We all know it’s him.”

“Since your girl’s suckin’ face with him, maybe she’s in on it, too… But that’d make her a slut.”

Everyone laughs, even as you hear the scuffle of shoes and ruffle of clothes as some weird play fight breaks out between them. You assume it’s between Jake and Tommy.

Eddie’s hand gently grabs your arm, crowding your space to put a barrier between you and them. His gaze is schooled on your face. He seems really upset, but he hides it well so he can comfort you. You scoff, shaking your head as you stare blankly at the floor, your face set in passionate displeasure.

“I fucking hate jocks.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he mutters, stroking your arm. Goosebumps erupt over your skin, your entire arm gets covered in them. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, looking up at him and letting the concern in his eyes ease you. “Yeah.” You readjust your grip on your book, turning the other to walk to his class instead. He lets you, because he knows you’re trying to self-soothe and he doesn’t want to interrupt that. “I’m more upset about everyone always assuming it’s you. Like they know you or something.” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but he hears it loud and clear. It’s heartwarming, your support of him.

“That’s sweet,” he says, “but I don’t really care that much.” Like he’s said before, he’s used to it. You still don’t like it, and he loves that about you. “I don’t know too many girls who take kindly to being called a slut.” He stops you so that he can properly look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod, giving him your best smile in an attempt to convince him. He’s so sweet. You don’t want him to worry. “I’m good,” you shrug nonchalantly. “His friends are just assholes. It’s whatever.”

He doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t want to press and stress you out. So he just nods and says, “Hey, you can sit with me during lunch so you don’t have to sit with them.”

You smile, and this time he believes it. “That sounds great.”

You’ve rustled through your bag maybe seven times now, and you still can’t find it. The amount of distress it’s causing you is a little unnerving. One thing. You just want one thing to be simple.

“Shit.” Eddie looks over at you, watches you put your head against the lunch table with a force that concerns him. He reaches a hand out and rubs circles along your back unprompted. “I left my notebook for my next class in my car.”

He raises a brow. “Are they really important?”

You turn your head to look at him. “If I miss any of these notes, I’m not passing this test.” And your teacher is a true asshole who refuses to delay the test even a single day to give you all a break.

Eddie’s already moving to stand, offering his hand to you. “I’ll go with you. You know, to keep you safe.”

You glance over at the table where Jake sits. He keeps looking over at you. When you slip your hand into Eddie’s, you know he’s pissed. You don’t mind it too much. “Thanks, Eddie.” He gives you one of those big smiles.

You walk with Eddie out of the cafeteria. There’s a cop posted at the door who checks the both of you out before letting you leave. The sun is really bright, despite the depression inside. It’s actually a bit glaring as you shield your vision from it. Eddie’s not having much luck with it either.

Eddie walks closely by you, and you appreciate the sentiment. You don’t feel as unsafe as you should—maybe it’s because it’s daytime and there are people around you. Nothing is going to happen in broad daylight.

You should really learn not to think things like that, though.

Eddie practically jumps in front of you as the loud screeching of tires alarms everyone around you. You startle, immediately looking towards the car that’s speeding through the parking lot. It’s loud and explosive. It hurts your ears, and you look away because you don’t know if you can take all this shock. You’re going to have a heart attack in your teens.

You cover your ears when it just barely crashes against the back of a car, bouncing off of it just to catapult into a giant pole.

The front is entirely caved in. There’s steam billowing from the hood as the back tires roll. One of the doors has flung open, and you stare in shock at what’s just happened. It takes you a moment to process Eddie’s protective arm over your front. You set a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately turns to examine you. “Are you okay?” he asks quickly, frantic as he looks over every part of you like you were the thing the car hit.

You start to nod when a blood curdling scream fills the air. Your head shoots to the scene of the crash, and you’re running toward it before you can even register Eddie’s protests. He chases after you.

You don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

It’s gruesome and graphic. Your hands fly to your mouth as you fight the urge to scream at the sight of two bloodied bodies lying cold in the back seat. They’ve been completely mutilated with the amount of times they’ve been stabbed all over. If you hadn’t known them so well, you probably wouldn’t have been able to make them out with all the blood and tears spread over their faces.

Telling flesh from organs (or even clothes) proved difficult. It was a mess of fabric and tissue. Some places were so abused that you could see bone sticking out of wounds, surrounded by flesh and meat. Your gut churned and churned. You wanted to look away, you’re almost begging to look away but you can’t.

That’s two jocks now, four dead bodies. First Jason, then Cassidy…and now Tommy H and Carol Perkins.

Their wide eyes are unblinking…

You can hear your breath in your ears. Everything else is so loud and muffled—the screams, the shouts, the chatter—but the heavy gasps of your lungs is a pound in your head that you can’t tune out. Everything seems to slow as you stare at the two, their bodies unmoving and broken by glinting blades. All you do is stare.

You don’t realize Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist until he turns your head from the scene. You try to look back, but he’s shielding your gaze with his hand so that you can only look at him. “Hey, hey, hey.” His voice, though thick with breath and something you can’t place with the way your brain rushes, is grounding. “You’re okay. Let’s go. Come on.”

You just follow him because he’s the only steady thing you can focus on. He crowds you with his body, and you let him before it gives you something to focus on. The sight of them is still in your head, stuck to your brain like a dart in a dartboard. You don’t understand. You want to understand.

You don’t notice more people bursting through the doors. You don’t notice the cops following after with their guns drawn as they scream at everyone to get out of the way. You don’t notice more screams filling the air and police sirens from the cars already in the parking lot. You focus on Eddie’s warm palm against your palm as the other holds your hand tight.

You don’t know how much time has passed before you come to. Eddie’s rubbing your back and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. Everything seems calm enough to feel real. You lift your head heavily and look at him. His gaze is distant, and you take it as shock.

You tuck your arm under his to wrap it around his back. He looks down at you, blinking a couple times before continuing to just sit next to you. Everything is fine.

It takes longer than it should for you to remember Jake. When you think you can stand, you place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and tell him insistently, “I…I’m going to find Jake. He’s probably freaking out, and…just please be safe. Please don’t get hurt. Be safe, please.”

Eddie nods, squeezing your hand gently before letting you go. “You, too. I’ll see you later, right?”

It takes a moment to process. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll try to call you.” He nods, squeezes your hand again, and then lets you go. As you turn away toward the thick crowd, you see Jonathan Byers joining Eddie. Argyle and Robin find them a moment later. At least he’s got company.

Everyone is in the cafeteria now. There’s police at every door keeping anyone from leaving. It’s very crowded, and for a moment, you think you can’t breathe, but you need to find your boyfriend.

It takes you a long time to find him. When you do, it looks like he's just now being told what's happened by his teammates. Brynn is at his side with Andrew holding her hands, speaking slowly. You finally get to them and drop to your knees to look up at him. He sits down heavily, dropping his face in his hands. He looks really tired.

“Jake?” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his face and gently holding his face to lift it up. He sees you, and his eyes dart between your own. His expression is so far away, and you begin to worry yourself sick. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you wait for anyone to tell you anything about what’s going on.

They send you home in groups, canceling school for the rest of the week while they’re at it. You worry about Jake driving, but he’s assured you that you’re okay enough and traffic is slow already. He drives in front of you, and you busy yourself with reading and rereading his plate numbers a million times just to try to avoid thinking about the corpses in Tommy H’s car.

You go to your house first. You hate the thought of walking in there right now, but you need clothes and things if you’re staying at Jake’s house for the next couple of days. You reach through the window of his truck on the way in, sliding a hand down his face. “You okay?”

He nods. He looks like he’s coming back to himself, but he’s still (obviously) deeply upset. “I’m good.”

You kiss his forehead before you’re headed inside with hesitant steps. Once the door is unlocked and open, you move quickly in an effort to grab all the things you need. As you’re passing the kitchen, you notice something sitting on the table. There wasn’t anything there when you were last here.

You swallow thickly, closing your eyes and slowly turning on your heel. When you open your eyes again to see, you swallow the insistent lump in your throat and set your bag on the counter. You walk slowly into the kitchen, and your hands begin to tremble all over again.

The note is the same handmade paper as before. This time, the smudge is on the outside over your name. Your heart is pounding so fast, you can’t even fathom focusing on it right now. You reach a hand out to grab it.

You hear Jake’s shoes as he steps through the front door. You swipe up the note and hide it behind your back as his gaze finds you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone sort of lazy.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I’m just gonna get my stuff.” You start walking toward the stairs.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” you sound more desperate than you mean to. But he wouldn’t understand. “No, it’s fine. Please don’t.”

He stares at you for a moment before deciding it’s not that big a deal. He steps back, nodding to himself. “Okay.” He turns on his heel and walks back to his truck to wait for you.

You rush upstairs, shoving open your bedroom door and locking it behind you. You almost yelp when you turn and see a black rose sitting on your bed. You slap a hand over your mouth and close your eyes to center yourself, breathing like that will make the rose disappear—and the letter, too, for that matter.

You lean against the door, your breath shaky as you look at the envelope. You tear it open slower than you had the first, pulling out the letter inside like it will explode if you’re not careful enough.

When all our enemies are dead and buried, we will be the ones laughing together. Soon, my perfect little puppet.

Your breath shudders as memories of just earlier that day pulse in your ears, Tommy and the team laughing at you for “being a slut”. Without wasting a second, Tommy haunts you with the sight of his open eyes, wide and bloodshot—as if he’d just seen a ghost.

This letter goes with the last one. You throw it into the closet and turn to your dresser for some clothes to stuff in a bag. But the top drawer is already open. A pair of underwear is missing. The only reason you know that is because it's the only red pair you have, and it’s not glaring you down.

You shake your head, grabbing the first sets of clothes you see and stuffing them in the bag. You lock all your windows, you lock your bedroom door behind you, you run down the stairs and ignore the fact that you could trip and fall at any moment (effectively breaking your neck and ridding you of the exhaustion of the mess that is your life right now).

You keep (re-locking) every lockable door and window in your house before you finally reach the front door. Once you’re sure it’s locked tight, you rush to Jake’s car with your bag thrown over your shoulder. You toss it in the back, and Jake pulls away as soon as your seatbelt is on. You’re glad he doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, because you know you’re not subtle.

The night is a little better once you get to Jake’s place (at least, it is for him once he's had a few beers). Brynn is over—Andrew had to stay home, his parents were too worried to let him leave the house.

But you've got the house all to yourselves. Jake's father is working all night at the precinct. There's no way he's coming home with a killer on the loose—a killer who's already claimed two jocks so far. He's not very keen on a third, especially with such a personal risk.

There's a movie on, and it's a nice distraction for them. Your mind is a little too preoccupied with the events of today (the events of the past few days).

As you glance over at Jake, you set a hand on his knee. There was a flash of something sad in his eyes for a moment. His mood, although it has improved, is still a little sour. It isn't so low that he looks like he isn't there—no, the beer has helped with that—but there's a faintness there that concerns you.

“You okay?” It's a dumb question, but it's the only one you've got. Brynn looks over.

Jake glances at you, nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “Just can't believe he got Tommy.” He shakes his head. “It's not fucking cool, he was a good dude.”

You can admit that you never really liked him. But that wasn't a reason for him to die.

He stands, swirling his empty beer can in his hand and going to grab another. You're still sipping—you never really liked the taste of beer, and Brynn seems to be almost through with hers.

He rustles through the fridge and cracks open another can. “I don't even know why anyone would do this.” He takes a generous swig, running a hand through his hair and shutting the fridge door.

“A fucking psycho, that's who,” Brynn mutters. She drapes a hand over her face. “Who knows what else he'll do?”

Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I try not to think about it.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands as you twirl your thumbs around the other. Brynn glances at you when you say nothing. You're doing that thing where the crease between your brows folds and unfolds. Something’s off.

“What's wrong?” she mutters. Jake looks at you.

You don't know how to tell them. You don't even know if they'll understand. Besides, with everything going on, your problems aren't nearly as important.

You go to dismiss it, but as you glance up and see them both watching you, you realize that you cannot sit here and pretend that nothing is bothering you this time. You look away, trying to find the words and feeling like you’re grasping at straws in a simple attempt at voicing your concerns.

“I…” You take a steadying breath, remembering the notes written to you on letters stained with blood. Fear circles your throat and makes it difficult to speak. You look up at Jake and Brynn. What if saying something about this meant they would both die? What if this thing, this sick, twisted thing going on between you and the killer means that everyone you love will end up dead?

Once again, you go to deny them the truth, the ugly truth of your peril…but you’ve already made that impossible. You swallow thickly, clearing your throat and hoping it will give you some courage.

“I’ve been getting these…these letters.” You clasp your hands together in an effort to stop their trembling. Your voice is soft, so soft that you don’t think they can hear you. “I think it’s from…him.”

Jake’s hand flexes, and you think for a moment that he’ll spill beer all over the place from crushing the can in his fist. “Who?” You think it’s possession over protection.

“The killer,” you say. Then your voice gets weaker. “Ghostface.”

Brynn makes a face. One that tells you that she doesn’t quite believe you. “Why would you be getting letters from this psycho?”

They’re not understanding. They don’t hear the fear in your voice.

“I don’t know. They’re these twisted love letters. I swear to God, there was blood on one of them.” You bring your knees up to your chest, trying to find warmth where fear has made your blood cold. You don’t look at them as you shake your head. It’s an absurd thing to say, but all of what’s happening is absurd. “I think this guy is killing for me.”

Brynn shakes her head, finding logic where you’re too emotional to look. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Jake agrees, coming back to the living room to lean on the couch beside you. “It’s probably just some fuckin’ creep playing with you.” He drinks from his can.

As reasonable as they sound—at least, it’s more reasonable than the theory you have—you can’t believe it. Too much has happened, and this is all too fucked up to try to rationalize. You shake your head, turning your body to face him.

“You don’t understand. He got into my house.” Jake’s eyes aren’t clear, and he looks generally unfazed. You reach a hand out to grasp his own, squeezing it to try to get him to listen to you. “He was there today.”

He tilts his head down. The way he looks at you is nothing if not condescending, but you try not to see it that way. “Maybe you left your door unlocked.” You think, as the son of a police officer, he should be more upset about something breaking into your house. Hell, as your boyfriend, he should be more upset about a guy breaking into your house. “Ie,” he continues, “someone’s playing a trick on you.”

You tilt your head, your anxious frustration turning to something more angry. “I always lock the door. Especially when my parents aren’t home—especially when there’s a psycho killer on the loose.” He shakes his head. You take his face in your hands, making him look at you again. “Jake, Cassidy tried to get me fired. I heard Tommy talking about me today.”

“And Jason?” he nearly snaps. He steps away from you completely. “How’s he connected, huh?”

You swallow. He’s the only one who sticks out. Jason was never unkind to you—though you know he can be unkind. He was, to those that counted to him, as gentlemanly as a jock can get.

You look down. “I…” You clear your throat lightly. “I don’t know, but I know something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, four people are dead.” He almost slams his beer on the counter. His voice cracks slightly, and he runs a hand through his messy hair. He speaks quietly, though not lacking the hurt in his voice. “That’s what’s wrong.”

You know he, Jason, and Tommy were friends, you know how much they mean to him. But��damn it—you should mean just as much! He’s supposed to have your back through this, just like you’ve had his. You’ve tried to be good to him this whole time, and then when you try to tell him how afraid you are, he throws it in your face.

It’s getting to be too much. You have grown used to the flimsy support of those close to you. You parents are almost always gone, your boyfriend has his team, your best friend has her boyfriend. Things used to be so good, and they’ve just been getting so stressful. You never ask for anything from any of them, and the one time you do, you’ve served with a steaming bowl of hot shit. It’s too much.

“I feel like I’m going crazy here, and neither of you are listening to me.” You run your hands down your face, covering your eyes and trying to steady your breath, trying to ease the heat in your chest from all the anger gathering there. “I feel like-like I’m being watched all the time.”

Brynn speaks up. “You’re just paranoid.”

“He was in my house!

You couldn’t stop it once it was out. Your shout was louder than you’d anticipated, and you feel like it’s the first time your words have ever been forced straight from your chest. There’s so much there that you feel like you have to catch your breath as the silence sits thick in the space between the three of you.

You look at Brynn. She stares down at her lap, timidly picking her nails. You look at Jake. He’s got his face in his hand as he leans against the counter.

They don’t believe you.

You can’t make them.

You stand up quickly, pushing yourself off the couch so hard that you almost fall forward. “I don’t need this.” You shove past Jake on your way to the hall, “You guys are supposed to have my fucking back.” Brynn turns to Jake, her eyes unblinking. You climb the stairs and barge into his room, grabbing your bags and repacking the things you’ve set out.

Jake has followed you up the stairs. “Come on, babe. Don’t act like this.”

It makes you seethe. “I’m going home.”

“How? You live too far, and you don’t have a ride.” You glare at him. That’s his concern. “Besides, you shouldn’t be out by yourself.” He adds it on like an afterthought.

You shake your head, closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Then I’ll call someone to get me.” You slam your bag shut, forcing the zipper closed with far too much strength. “I just can’t fucking look at you right now.”

Jake grabs you, stopping you from what you’re doing to make you look at him. “Hey, babe, look, I’m sorry. Okay?” He makes you face him, his hands on your elbows as he cages you in. You turn your face away. “I’m being a huge dick… I believe you, okay?”

You huff, glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes. You take in the sight of him, trying to determine if he’s lying to you. He seems upset, genuinely. It’s foolish hope, but it’s hope, and that’s all you really want right now. “Do you?” It’s more accusing than it is anything else.

His voice is low, and he cradles your face in his hand. You let yourself, reluctantly, lean into his palm. “If that’s what you want.” You don’t like his response, but you push it away. He’s never had a way with words. “I’m sorry.” He pulls you close, bringing his other hand to wrap around your waist. “Let me make it up to you.”

You sigh, allowing yourself for just a moment to think maybe…maybe he means it. His thumb brushes over your cheek, the corner of his lips curves up. He leans in.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

You shove him hard. You clench your fists at your side and feel yourself reaching a level of anger that is generally foreign to you. You're used to pushing it away.

Jake's shock quickly turns to annoyance, which forms a deep frustration as he huffs. “I'm so fucking sorry,” he mocks. He crowds your space, his face merely inches from his own as he speaks in a low voice that feels like he's shouting. “Two of my friends are dead, and you're making it all about you.”

You want to feel bad, but you can't. You're tired of feeling bad, you're tired of letting yourself be overlooked. What kills you is that he can't even realize that you're not okay—that you're hardly ever okay.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” You stare in shock and partially in pain, though you try to keep that hidden. It claws at your throat, and you feel like you can't speak; you push through it, despite the burning coals stuck in your throat. “I'm genuinely terrified that someone is trying to hurt me, and you're acting like this?”

He looks like he's about to rip his hair out—which is the point you're reaching as well. “Nobody is trying to hurt you! You're fucking delusional. Jesus Christ, why do you have to be such a whiny little bitch?”

A mix of emotions run through you, but all you do is stand there. You stand and you stare at him, eyes wide and welling, lips parted as your brows dip low.

It's one thing to have a stray thought that your boyfriend finds you annoying—even, perhaps, that he hates you. It's another thing entirely to have those theories confirmed, and in such a way! You look at the features of his face, all the rage and frustration peeling back into fatigue and a hint of regret. You stare even longer, longer than you were meant to, just wanting to see more regret than what he's giving.

You want him to fall to his knees and cry, to beg your forgiveness. But you know he would never beg. You know he would never fall. He never did. It was always you.

After all this time, you were always the one falling.

Ideally, you know you both need to take a step back, get some space. You need to clear your head and think about this so you can come back and figure this out. Especially with everything going on, feelings running high. You should be rational.

But you can't.

The only thing you want to do right now is slam the door in his face, leave him standing there looking stupid. Because if you come back, if you make up and go back to normal…

You don't know how much more you can take.

Jake takes a step forward. “Babe–”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

“Babe, I'm sorry. I'm just–”

You hit his hand away when he reaches for you. “Don't fucking touch me.” You stare at him for a second longer, shaking your head before turning sharply to grab your bags. You make for the door.

“Babe–”

“Rot in Hell.”

You slam the door in his face, rushing down the stairs as quickly as you can. Brynn spots you, walking up to you quickly as she looks down at your bags. “Where are you going?”

“Fuck off.”

“You don't have your car–!” You slam the front door shut. You make sure Jake can hear it from upstairs.

No one follows you. You trek down the sidewalk, your feet heavy and your grip on your bags tight. Your heart is beating so hard, it comes with the sound of thunder in your ears. You know you're about to cry, you can feel it in the heaviness of your chest, the tightness in your throat, the hoarseness of every breath you take. You think briefly that you may die.

But the longer you walk, the longer you realize that you are outside. It's past curfew, late at night. You are alone.

And there's a killer on the loose.

It's the most inconvenient time for tears to fall. You can't see well, and you're breathing so heavily that you can't hear what's going on around you.

The streets are bare. There's no one around. The sky is drenched in darkness. Everyone is inside hiding from the killer, where they should be.

Where do you go?

You have no car. You live too far to walk. You refuse to go back and ask for a ride. You refuse to go back.

You swallow thickly, picking up the pace as you rush to the nearest payphone. There's one close by, you’ve passed by it a million times.

Once you're inside, you close the door quickly. But as soon as your hand is reaching for loose quarters in your bag, you realize they're shaking. You watch them, like leaves rattling in the window. As you bring them slowly to your face, you can't help it when your knees buckle.

You let yourself be carried to the ground, unable to hold it together long enough to find safety. It's all coming down so quickly, and you don't have the sense to allot time to cry after you've found it.

You'd hoped you were wrong, that your friends actually loved you. What a fool you were to believe such a thing. You'd grown so used to such a skewed perception of love that you don't think you'd be able to distinguish that from your twisted need to please every goddamn person you meet.

You like to believe that, at one point, it was real. It had to have been, right? It's been almost a year since you and Jake met. And Brynn has been your best friend since the beginning of high school. But that kind of distrust, those kinds of insults don't come from a place of love.

No, you don't think Jake ever truly loved you. It was simple attraction—attraction that wore off, that he probably got sick of but felt too obligated to preserve because you need someone. And there was a time for you and Brynn, but it has since passed.

You held on too tight.

It's nighttime and the sun has long since set. By the time you clear your face, you feel stupid for crying before finding safety. There are more important things than this.

You take a steadying breath. You need to be rational again.

You stuff a quarter in the slot and clear your throat as you bring the phone to your ear. It rings a few times, and you're scared he won't pick up.

“Hello?”

You recognize the voice, but it's not the one you're looking for. “Hey…” You clear your throat again. “I'm looking for Eddie? I'm one of his friends, we've actually met before.”

Eddie's Uncle Wayne pauses to think. You can imagine him scratching his head and rubbing his neck. He says your name in his low, gravelly voice.

You nod as if he can see you. “Yes, that's me.”

“Ah. Well,” he clears his own throat, “Eddie's at one of his friend's houses right now. That Harrington boy, should be. Staying in groups and all that.”

“Okay.” You hadn't anticipated that. You chew on your lip thoughtfully, trying to decide your best course of action. You know Steve, so maybe you'll be welcome. “Do you think you could give me his number?”

He makes this grunting sound, which is just the sound of him thinking. “Let's see,” he mumbles. “Should be in here somewhere.”

You've only interacted with Wayne a few times. He's very mellow, but he's kind and welcoming. And Eddie adores him.

“Harrington residence. What's up?”

“Hey. Steve? Is Eddie there?”

He says your name, double checking. It's been a little while since you've spoken, with him graduating and all.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he's here.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief. “Could I speak to him?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

There's a shift. Then you hear Steve shout his name.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He already sounds concerned. “What's the matter?”

You rub your face. “Got into it with…” you take a deep breath and hope you don't sound as dreadful as you felt, “with Jake and Brynn. I don't wanna be home by myself. I know it’s past curfew but…” You glance around you in the dark. “Do you think you could come get me?”

There's a pause, and you wonder if you've said something wrong. Eddie is all enthusiasm. He's loud and excited, and he's quick to respond because he's happy to respond.

The silence makes you nervous.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah!” he recovers. “Yeah, of course. Where are you right now?”

You're glad he doesn't ask how you are. “I'm on Jake's street still.”

You hear a jingle. “Stay there. I'll be there in a few minutes.” You're surprised he doesn't ask why you're outside so late, but you're grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you smile.

You can hear his own smile through the phone. He's sticky with affection, and it makes you feel safe. “No worries, sweetheart.”

Continued....

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absurdthirst · 2 years ago

Text

Puppy Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 12.1k

Warnings: Mentions of pimping someone out, post apocalyptic morality, mentions of violence, guns, biting, infected, death, slapping, angst, anger, Joel being emotionally constipated, declarations of love, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, outdoors sex, pulling out, mentions of pregnancy/infertility

Comments: You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

A/N: ~Contains spoilers for Episode 2~ Follows the episode along with some canon divergence.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your eyes slide up and down the streets, daring anyone to come closer or ask questions as you clean against the crumbling brick facade and twist your head to look back at the two men huddled together about a hundred feet from where you are. You can’t hear what they’re saying but Joel looks even more pissed off than normal, even for Joel.

“What?” Joel shakes his head in annoyance, knowing he’s being squeezed for cards. He doesn’t get charged that much for the entire hydro stash he gets from his seller. “No, no fucking battery is worth that much and you know it.” He growls, narrowing his eyes at the untrustworthy weasel in front of him.

Robert’s eyes slide nervously around and he gives a small shrug, uncomfortable being around Joel and preferring to deal with Tess. “What can I say? Times are hard. It’s getting harder to come by these things.” His greedy eyes shift over to where you are looking out at the street. “Although….I’m sure we could work something out. I could cut the price in half if you, say, let me have your little pet there for the night.” He chuckles, referring to Tess’s mocking nickname for you. ‘Joel’s little puppy dog.’

Joel stares at the other man for a few seconds, just processing what he said, until it finally sinks in. “What the fuck did you just ask for?” He growls, low and quiet so you don’t hear.

“You heard me, Miller. A night with your little lapdog over there. She’s gotta be good at sucking cock because you keep her around. Got a fucking harem started with her and Tess. Do you have one sit on your face and the other ride your cock?” Robert guesses, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, “or do they take turns sucking your dick? Mmm if you guarantee me a blowjob, I’ll even throw in some extras.”

You tense slightly, shifting forward from your place leaning against the way. Eyes watching the way that Joel’s fist curls tight for a moment. Wishing that you could hear what the fuck they are saying, but Joel told you to stay here, so that’s what you’re doing. “Joel?” You call out, getting his attention as he turns his head towards you. You’re wondering if you need to come over, knowing you will throw yourself into a fight for him if needed.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up towards you to stop you. He considers the guys offer, he can’t deny it. It would get him a hell of a lot closer to where he needs to be without having to do several burns for the cards. “No. She’s not available.” He finally says, not wanting to force you into something like that. He might be an evil bastard but he’s not a monster. “She’s not an option.” He decides, “you get more ration cards when we meet for me to collect it.”

“Come on man.” Robert shakes his head and his eyes slide past Joel to leer at you. “It’s just a fucking blowjob. I’ll tell you what?” He huffs, smirking and looking back at Joel. “Let me fuck her, both holes, have her suck my cock and I’ll give you the battery for free. Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let you watch if you want to.”

Joel can’t help but reach up to squeeze the asshole’s throat. His anger makes him growl as he chokes the prick who dared to violate you like that. “You get the ration cards when I collect it or I can kill you now and get the battery for free? Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let her watch me kill you.” Joel sasses, tilting his head as he watches his eyes practically bulge.

“Shit!” You leap forward but Joel just turns his head.

“Stay there!” He orders harshly, making you stop in your tracks. Watching as Joel leans in and whispers something else to the disgusting little rat he was having to buy from to get the battery he needed.

“No, no, it-it’s good!” You hear Robert choke out, gasping and sputtering when Joel lets him go. Clutching at his throat and coughing as Joel turns around and starts striding back toward you.

“Let’s go.” He demands, his scowl even deeper than normal as you scramble to catch up with his long legged strides. You weren’t short but he’s speed walking.

“What the fuck just happened?” You demand, wanting to know what the fuck is going on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Joel growls, body still vibrating with anger. He hates that you were a bargaining chip in this new world. Twenty years ago, it would’ve been illegal but anything goes in this new era, even the things the QZ deems illegal are turned a blind eye to.

“Did you get the car battery?” You ask and Joel doesn’t look at you, knowing he’s barely holding on to the thread of decency he has when it comes to you.

“No.” He says without further explanation, “he’s got to locate it.”

“Okay.” You think there is more to it, but he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. You just walk along beside him, watching some of the people on the street part, giving Joel a wide berth. “So what do we do now?” You ask, unsure if he had other things to take care of.

“We keep low. You seen Tess? I ain’t seen her for a couple of days. Startin’ to get worried.” He frowns, guiding you down the alleyway that takes you back to his building. “I haven’t seen her.”

You mimic his frown, both wondering where Tess is and hating that he’s so worried about her. It’s always been the two of them. You know they fuck, you know sometimes Tess will sneak into his bed, and you hate it, but you don’t hate Tess. She is capable of a lot in this world and you know she keeps Joel grounded, something you seem unable to do.

“Let’s head to mine and then we will try to track her down.” Joel says, unaware that Tess is already waiting in his room, her face beaten up and sore.

You sigh softly, knowing that you will do whatever he wants. It’s dumb, but Joel had saved you when you arrived in the QZ, scared off some less than honorable people and you have been drawn to him ever since. It’s hard being in love with a man who doesn’t love you, doesn’t even look at you like a woman, but you are loyal to him. He claims he’s not a good man, and that’s true at times, but he’s good to you. “We’ll find her. I’m sure she’ll be in your arms tonight.” You mutter, hating how your stomach twists in jealousy.

Joel pretends to not hear you, knowing you and Tess have some tension going on between you but he ignores it. This life is rough enough without needing to fucking deal with women drama. He gets what he needs when he wants and that’s all that matters to him. He rolls his eyes and strides a little faster to get to his room.

When he opens the door, Tess is sitting there with her face bruised and swollen and he’s ready to fucking kill whoever did that to her.

“Jesus.” You huff, eyes wide at her injuries. It’s on the tip of your tongue to make a snarky comment, but instead you watch Joel fuss over her and clean up the wounds with the bottle of alcohol sitting next to the sink. It would be touching if it didn’t break your heart. “What the fuck happened to you?” You ask finally as he’s dabbing at the corner of her mouth. You flop down on his sofa and glare at your feet.

Joel gently grips her chin as he cleans her up, his eyes burning into hers and he doesn’t hear your question, too busy making sure Tess is okay. Neither of them see the crestfallen look on your face until your scowl covers it. Tess sighs, gently pushing Joel’s hand away as she explains that she was held hostage by a couple of Robert’s goons. Joel hisses in annoyance, knowing he should’ve killed that asshole when he had the chance.

You hate how neither one of them includes you, feeling like an extra wheel. Dragging your feet off the coffee table you slap your hands on your thighs and stand. “Since she’s home, I guess I better do the same.” You want Joel to tell you to stay, but you know he won’t. Wondering why you put yourself through this torture when he only had eyes for Tess.

Joel wants to ask you to stay but he needs to talk to Tess about what happened. He needs to form a plan and you distract him. “See you later.” He tells you, not even looking your way and Tess offers you a slight smirk as she bids you goodbye. Joel tuts when you stomp out, slamming the door behind you. “Tess…” He murmurs, shaking his head.

“What? She’s like a damn puppy dog hanging around you all the time.”

Joel snorts, “what does that make you?”

Tess frowns for a moment before she leans forward. “You know what I am to you.” She challenges him, holding his gaze until he turns away. You have fucked everything up, everything was fine until you showed up and things changed. “Joel-“ She pauses, deciding against asking a question she doesn’t want to know the answer to, or at least have it confirmed. Instead she decides to change tactics. “We need to go find Robert and our battery.”

Joel nods, “we do. I’ll go find her and then we can get ahead. Get your shit together.” He orders, standing up and making his way out of the door to track you down. He needs you for backup and also, he is secretly amused at the way Tess frowns whenever you are mentioned. Tess is…Tess is a comfort to him, the woman who has seen him at his worst and still wants him.

You are innocent really, still able to fight but you haven’t seen that side of him. He doesn’t want you to. He wants you to think of him as the closest version to the person he used to be. He misses that person sometimes, grieves him almost as much as he grieves Sarah. The small things he’d bitch about, like money or working late, are trivial compared to the issues he faces today.

When he finds you, you are sulking in your room, “come on. I need you to help me and Tess track down Robert and his goons.”

Staring at him incredulously, you huff after a moment, bending down to pick up your boots. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Miller.” You grumble, feeling like you are being taken advantage of right now. Joel doesn’t comment, just sends you a satisfied look as you put your boots on and turns towards the door.

“Get your pack, we might need it.” He tells you before he walks out of your rooms like he owns the damn things. Your fault for letting him in, your fault for being so fucking in love with him that you let him walk all over you.

“This is the last goddamn time.” You promise yourself, muttering angrily as you get ready.

Joel doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows as he listens outside. Both you and he know that’s not true. When you’re ready, he guides you down the alleyways to meet up with Tess. “Right. Let’s go get this fucker. I’m sick of his bullshit.” Joel huffs, making his way through the alleys to find the place Tess detailed when she told him where she was held.

“Awwww, you decided to come along, I’m so touched.” Tess coos mockingly when you reach her, making you grit your teeth and want to punch her in her good eye.

“Well, someone has to clean up your mess.” You huff back.

“Enough.” Joel growls, shaking his head at you before he turns to Tess with a pointed look. They did that a fucking lot, silently communicate like you weren’t fucking there.

Tess nods and Joel leads the way, entering the building with gun in hand and he creeps down the hall, using hand signals to gesture for you to walk or stop. He knows you and Tess have some fucking women issues between you but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time for that trivial shit.

It’s not the time to be snarky. Instead of dwelling on the issues, you focus on the task at hand. All you care about is keeping Joel safe. Tess by extension just because you know that he would be upset if something happened to her. She was his woman, not you. Your own gun in your hand, you flank his left side as you follow, eyes peeled for any danger.

Joel is naturally anxious, keeping his eyes open and ears clear for any noises. When he spots the dead bodies of Robert and his goons, he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to know who did that to them. When the door to his right suddenly opens, he doesn’t think. He just acts. Shoving the girl against the wall so she drops the knife and placing his foot on it, gun aimed at her. When Marlene appears, Joel narrows his eyes, listening as she begs him not to shoot.

Your fingers tense around your own weapon, aimed at the two fireflies in front of you. “What’s who he sold our battery to? The Che Guevara of Boston?” You roll your eyes at her humor but it’s true. Listening to her tell Joel that they need to take this girl to the state house to meet her group. “Bring your puppy with you too.” You hiss at that, pissed off that Tess’s fucking nickname for you has caught on. “I tried to recruit her, but she’s too loyal to you Joel.”

Joel conceals the way his heart flutters at the news that you wanted to stay loyal to him. His face remains impassive and the girl tries to get her knife back while Marlene points out that she is bleeding and he needs to hurry up and decide. “Fine.” He grunts after Tess states her case.

Huffing, you shake your head. “You two have fun with that.” You know it’s a bad idea. This is bullshit and there are other places to get a battery.

“You’re going with us.” Joel tells you sternly and you know that you will, if for anything but to watch his back.

“We don’t need her. Joel. She’ll just be a liability.” Tess barely spares you a glance and that pisses you off more.

“I’m going.” You hiss, glaring at her.

Joel doesn't need this catty bullshit, the girl is glaring at him and it's putting him on edge. "Fine. Get your shit kid, we are leaving." He orders the girl, Ellie, who goes to get her knife back with a scowl. When night falls, Joel guides the group through the old tunnel that he uses to smuggle things in and once you're outside the QZ, Ellie's eyes widen.

"Holy shit." She gasps and a truck drives by.

"Get down!" Joel hisses, forcing you to duck alongside Ellie.

“Jesus.” You hate being outside the QZ. Hate the risk and you know that it’s getting harder and harder every time. “We need to move. The fucking soldiers have been crawling around.” You murmur quietly, looking around and shivering slightly in the rain.

Just as you get ready to move, the QZ guard who buys from Joel approaches you, gun raised. Joel doesn’t even think, surging forward to start pummeling the guy to death. He’s feral and there’s nothing any of you can do except watch him. Ellie watches with a fascination while Tess stares impassively.

“Joel.” You know the man is capable of violence, you’ve seen it, but this was unhinged. He turns back to look at the girl and you, the expression on his face is fierce and you shake your head after Tess shows him the red scanner. She’s infected. You listen to the hurried explanations and you know you need to have this conversation somewhere else. “We need to go.” You tell him, picking up the knife that the kid had stuck in the bastard’s leg and handing it back to her. You don’t know about her claim that she’s immune, but she deserves to be able to protect herself out here. “Take the rifle.”

Ellie takes it and Joel is almost dazed as you walk through the debris and overgrowth to find shelter in the city. Once you’ve found where you usually stop, Joel slumps down in the chair, flexing his knuckles and hissing. Ellie looks exhausted and you tell her to get some sleep, you’re stopping here for the night. “She’s infected.” Joel grunts when she’s fast asleep, bringing yours and Tess’s eyes over to him.

“Her wound looked healed.” Of course it had been dark as shit, but bites from the infected never looked better. It’s always inflamed as the fungal infection spreads through the body, taking over. You glance at his knuckles, wishing that you had ice to put on it. “You should wrap it up.” You tell him.

Joel ignores you, just imagining what could’ve happened out there if that asshole had blabbed. You’d all be dead. Hung for treason or some bullshit like that. “I’m fine.” He finally answers and Tess looks over at him, “she’s right.” That Joel definitely ignores. He grunts, standing up, “I’ll take first watch. You two get some sleep. I’ll watch the girl.” He says, grabbing his rifle and ignoring the pain in his knuckles when he grips the handle.

You sigh, knowing it won’t make a damn bit of difference, but you find yourself a corner away from the door so you have time to react and lay your pack down. Using it as a pillow as you turn your back to Joel and Tess. You don’t want to see whatever else they do or talk about tonight, tired of being the third wheel and tired of feeling like you should just leave.

Joel keeps watch most of the night until Tess tells him to get half an hour. “Lazy bitch couldn’t even get up for a watch.” She scoffs at your sleeping form.

Joel shakes his head at her, “she didn’t sleep the night before. Trying to help me out by keeping an ear out for the radio. Just - let it, okay?” Joel asks and Tess snorts, nodding her head. He sits down, closing his eyes but he never truly relaxes, just rests until the sun starts to rise.

“What do we do with the girl?” Tess asks when he stands up, walking over to her.

“Kill her.” Joel says, knowing that Marlene wouldn’t find out. He could lie and say she got infected for real this time. It’s not far from the truth. “We don’t know if she’s gonna turn.” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on the curled up ball in the middle of the room.

Grunting, you wake up with a jolt, used to the nightmares that plague your sleep. Everyone in the fucking horror reality has them, or they’ve never lived outside the QZ they were born in. Flipping over, you notice that Joel and Tess are already awake, both of them watching the girl. “Shoulda woke me.” You grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle over towards Joel.

“You needed the sleep.” Joel murmurs, ignoring the scoff from Tess. “We should kill her.” Joel says with finality just as the girl wakes up, glancing around to see you sitting up and Joel sitting there with his rifle aimed towards her, anxious and tense as hell. “You make one wrong move and I’ll kill ya.” He promises, making Ellie scoff and pull her sleeve up.

“I’m fine. No different than last night.”

You shift slightly, looking from Joel to Ellie. “Why didn’t she kill you?” You demand, asking about Marlene. Ellie explains about the daily testing and holds out her arm to show that it is perfectly steady. No tremor, which is normally the first sign of infection besides a bite. “Jesus.” You shake your head, unsure of what all of these means and look back towards Joel. It’s him she needs to convince. Or Tess rather because she can sway Joel’s opinion.

Joel considers not killing Ellie when Tess points out that it hasn’t spread. “Fine. Better get something to eat before we head out.” Joel says, sitting down, and he flexed his knuckles.

“Broken?” Tess asks and he shrugs, “hairline. It will heal fast.”

You frown at that but still get your jerky out of your pack.

Ellie, meanwhile, pulls out a delicious looking sandwich and your eyes widen. “Is that chicken?” Tess asks and Ellie explains how Marlene got it from smugglers. Joel snorts, chewing on his jerky and trying to ignore the pain in his hand.

You hate that he is hurting, knowing that he can’t take anything that would help because it would make him slower to react. Instead of offering to take the gun, you open your pack and offer him the precious bottle of aspirin you have. It took a month of ration cards to get it, and you normally used it when your cramps would get too bad. “Here.” You offer quietly, “to help with the swelling.”

Joel takes the pill, knowing it’s aspirin and trusting you. He swallows it dry and makes the decision to head out. “Let’s go. We need to take advantage of the daylight.” He says, standing up to grab his pack and the rifle. Ellie scrambles to pack up her pack again and soon enough, you are heading outside with Tess keeping close to Joel.

“Do we want to take the long way or the short way?” Joel asks and it’s not your opinion he’s actually asking for. Tess snorts.

“You mean the long way or sure to die way.” She corrects sarcastically, making Ellie’s eyes widen dramatically and you roll your own. You’ve been the short way and it’s fine as long as you pay attention.

“I vote for the long way given the small amount of information available.” Ellie huffs, making you smirk.

“The long way, fast.” You decide. “Sooner we get her to the state house, the sooner you have the truck you need to get to Tommy.” That’s what all this is about after all, getting to his brother.

Joel nods, agreeing with you. You, Tess, and the girl trail behind him. Joel hears Tess telling the kid about Boston and the wreck it is now, but he isn't really listening, too busy scanning the area for any threats: human or infected.

He walks into the hotel and Ellie is amazed. "Wow. Did you guys ever stay somewhere like this?" She asks and Joel snorts while Tess says, "it was a bit out of our price range." You can't help but snort when Joel sasses the kid by hopping down onto the last step.

"Come on." You urge her forward and she rambles on about the hotel. When she rings the bell, Joel rolls his eyes and you shrug, offering him a look of amusement.

Halfway through the lobby when Ellie screams, you turn around and rush back through the water, unsure if it’s a clicker. Relieved when Joel isn’t shouting and shooting, you find the decayed bones of an unfortunate bastard floating. He must have moved and scared the girl. You hum, watching as Joel offers her his hand, something that he wouldn’t have done if he didn’t somewhat believe her story about not being infected, so it bodes well for her. “Come on kid,” you offer, giving her a small smile. “Let’s go up to the rooms. We’ve got a hell of a climb.”

Once you climb the ridiculous amount of stairs, Joel curses when he finds the exit has caved in. “Fuck.” He grunts.

“I can fit through. Let me try and get through.” Tess says and Joel shakes his head, “we can go the short way.”

Tess huffs, “we don’t have time. I’ll be fine.” She promises and starts to climb through the debris. You hover near Ellie, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs at their secret look, only between them. It makes you feel like you’re a thousand miles away from them. Ellie slumps down on the floor and Joel follows suit, looking over at you while Ellie starts to ask him questions.

You fiddle with your gun, trying not to feel like you are stuck in the middle of a Q&A that you don’t want to be at. Snickering to yourself when Ellie sasses back at Joel that she knows where Detroit is. Only to be surprised moments later when Joel actually knows where you are from. You had only told him once and assumed that he had forgotten or didn’t care enough. “So you and her are….” Joel’s entire body tenses.

“Pass.” Of course he wouldn’t define their relationship, he doesn’t ever acknowledge things Tess says in front of you, but he doesn’t deny them either.

Ellie huffs and turns her inquisitive eyes towards you. “So that means you and her are……” She trails off, trying to get either one of you to fill in the gaps.

Joel grunts, “pass.” He doesn’t want to talk about you or Tess with Ellie.

“Are you- is it like a throuple situation?” She guesses and Joel snorts, “nope.”

You and Tess would kill each other before you fuck each other. “Absolutely not.” You wrinkle your nose at being with Tess. God, she gets under your skin but she is important to Joel.

“Rightttt.” Ellie drawls just as there’s a thumping on the door. Joel stands up, gun in hand, anxious until Tess shouts her announcement that she’s back. Joel sighs slightly, relieved to see Tess, and he gestures for you and Ellie to get your shit.

Your stomach knots, knowing that the hardest part is coming up but there is something calming about the view from the terrace. Looking out over the ruins of the city that you had wished to have visited before all of the world went to shit. Tess pulls back the heavy plastic curtain so Ellie can get her first look and you walk up to the ledge.

Ellie has to step up on the little ledge and she looks down at the courtyard below. “There’s so many of them.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. Tess starts to talk, explaining the way the fungus spreads. “They’re connected.” Tess hums. “More than you know.” Joel looks over at you and meets your eyes for a second.

You wish that he cared about you, but he doesn’t. You tear your eyes away from his and listen to Tess tell Ellis about how the tendrils spread underground, alerting other infected to your location. “You’re not immune from being ripped apart.” Tess cautions her. “You understand?” For a moment, the woman you hold such a grudge against seems almost motherly and you wish that she could talk to you with half the kindness, although you know you’ve not been exactly nice to her. Your feelings for Joel getting in the way of that.

“So we’re not going that way.” Ellie huffs and you shake your head, knowing what’s coming. “Short way?” She asks, looking between the three of you and you look to Joel for his opinion.

“Museum.” He decides, making you roll your shoulders in anticipation of the problems ahead.

You are anxious, preparing yourself to enter the museum and Joel glances at you, "be careful." He tells you softly, ignoring the glance from Tess. He opens the door, pleased after discovering the fungal roots are dry. He enters the Bostonian Museum, keeping his gun raised and ready.

Blowing out a soft breath, you grip your gun in your hand tightly and keep your head on a swivel as you watch your steps. The museum is dark and all you have for light is the flashlights, the kid breathing heavily at your back and you swear you hear her huff under her breath because Joel wouldn’t let her have a gun. She looks around, taking in the scene as the old building creaks and groans around you. “Yeah, cooked.” Joel says and Tess grunts.

“Finally some fucking luck.” Ellie steps forward, almost carelessly at their conversation. “I guess we should have gone this way in the first place.” Joel hums, not watching as Ellie turns a corner.

“Oh shit!” You rush over and shine another light on the body she discovered, groaning to yourself when you see that the person has been ripped up. Knowing what causes that. “What the fuck did that?” She demands, making you shush her quickly. You look over at Tess and Joel, the other woman looking nervous.

“Maybe.” Tess whispers. “Maybe he was attacked outside. Crawled through the door, the door was open. It could have been him.” She insists, making you roll your eyes and scoff quietly. She knows that’s not what happened.

“I don’t hear anything.” She insists. “What would you hear?” Ellie demands, her voice at a normal volume and all three of you turn towards her to quiet her down.

Joel holds his hand up, telling Ellie to quieten down. “What would you hear?” She repeats in a whisper, “you saying an infected did that?” Tess shushes her and you bite your lip. “-because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Ellie looks back at the body.

“Okay from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet, silent.”

Ellie shakes her head “what-”

Joel cuts her off, “no questions. Just do it.” Joel is anxious, always tense when he’s in closed spaces, and he slowly makes his way up the stairs. It’s difficult to move so slow but he is careful when he steps on the dried fungus. He manages to make it up the stairs and onto the second floor. He opens the door, walking in with his gun ready. The ceiling collapses and Tess shoves Ellie forward, pushing her into you and the three of you fall onto the floor. Joel helps Ellie up and that’s when you hear it. A clicker.

Shit. Your gun comes up and you immediately move in front of Ellie, flanking Joel to his left and Tess to his right. You’re trapped in a room with a fucking clicker. You don’t dare to breathe, barely creeping forward since they rely on hearing, totally blind with the large, hard fungal growth covering their heads. You hear her breathing start to pick up and you turn to find her wide as you realize there is more than one. All of you crouch down behind a display and Joel motions to Ellie that they rely on hearing. You can see the terror on her face, making the way your heart is pounding in your chest. Joel puts his finger to his lips again as they continue to make horrible screeches and clicks as they search for the source of the sounds. The clicker comes around the display and the little girl sees it for the first time, inhaling sharply.

Shit. The clicker turns and screeches before Joel brings his gun up to shoot it.

It’s terrifying, fighting for your life, and you are scared that Joel is gonna get bitten. You scramble to shoot the clicker but eventually you run out of bullets. Joel curses, “fucking go.” He hisses, “I’ll distract it.” You rush to hide around a corner to reload your gun. The girl and Tess are across the room and your hands shake as you struggle to reload your weapon. “

Fuck.” You hiss and Joel comes to stand beside you, doing the same thing. His eyes are full of fear and you stare back at him until you hear the clicks.

Your eyes close for a brief second, well aware that this could be it for you. You hate it. The fact that you could die in this fucking museum and never find Tommy. Never tell Joel how you feel. The floorboards creak and you hear the clicks right next to you. Another sound draws its attention and you turn to watch it, finding Ellie cowering behind a display and both you and Joel creep over to her. Making your way silently until Joel steps on a piece of broken glass. You cry out and start shooting as the clicker flies over the display and knocks all three of you to the ground, trying to infect you as you fight it off.

Joel curses, scrambling to keep the clicker away from you and Ellie and himself. It’s a struggle but eventually he manages to push it aside and put a bullet in its neck and eventually it’s face. Just as that one falls, the other rushes forward and Tess swings an axe into its head. Joel scrambles to grab his rifle, shooting the bastard in the head to kill it. “You alright?” Joel asks Tess as she stands.

“Twisted ankle.”

He turns to you, eyes wide and asks you the same question. “I’m fine.” You answer and Tess asks Ellie who exhales shakily, “well I didn’t shit my pants.”

You can’t help but laugh at her response, knowing you felt the same way the first time you dealt with clickers. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Turning back towards the kid, your eyes widen when you see that she’s injured again. “Ah…I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

You catch the way that Tess tenses up, making you frown slightly but she’s quickly redirecting the conversation. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

Making your way onto the roof, it’s obvious that Tess needs medical attention. Joel hands Ellie a rag for her arm and turns his attention to Tess. Leaving you to walk over to the other girl and help her while he concentrates on wrapping her ankle. “Come here. I’ll help you.” It will be a good distraction, tending to her wound rather than watching Joel fret over a twisted ankle. Soon her arm is wrapped and she’s walking towards the edge and the scaffolding that connects the two buildings. “Over there?” She asks and Joel barely glances at her. “Yeah, I know it looks scary.” Joel starts but Ellie interrupts him. “That was scary, this is wood.” She huffs as she brazenly walks across the beam and makes you smirk at the other two adults.

"Just wait there. Give us a minute." Joel says and you step to follow Ellie across the wood, not wanting to see the tenderness Joel gifts Tess with. "Be careful." Joel warns you while opening his backpack. You scoff, walking across the wood as brazenly as Ellie. Joel shakes his head, while he tapes Tess's ankle.

"Told you, she's trouble." Her eyes focus on Joel but he doesn't notice, set on the job at hand. "There's probably more ahead."

Tess nods, "so we'll deal with it then...I got it. I got it." She tells Joel when he wraps around her ankle again.

Joel leans back to look at Tess until his gaze turns to the building across from them. "What about the kid?" He asks, "maybe the first bite didn't take but what about the second?"

Tess huffs, turning towards him, "why don't you just take the good news? Can you do that?" She asks Joel, "can you just for once think that we might actually win?" Tess asks and shakes her head, "just go and watch her and your fucking puppy."

Joel sighs, grabbing his backpack and rifle before making his way across the wood. “Wow.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side.

“Is that everything you hoped for?” Joel asks Ellie as you stare across what used to be a major city now turned to a deserted urban jungle.

“Jury’s still out.” Ellie replies back, “but man…you can’t deny that view.” You hum in agreement and Joel looks at Ellie before his eyes meet yours for a second.

“Tess gonna live?” You ask, breaking the moment up but you hate how his eyes seem to suck you in. It’s not going to happen for you and you need to accept that. You’ve already decided that when Joel and Tess get their vehicle from the Fireflies, you are going to stay. You’ll go with them or turn around and find a way back to the QZ. You can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard and you know that it will never be you that he picks. Stupid of you to fall for a man who was obviously involved with someone whether or not he admitted it. Joel rolls his eyes, not answering you and you swallow harshly. “When we get to the state house-” You start, wanting to tell him your plan, but Tess comes hobbling up.

“Come on, let's get there before it’s dark” She demands, impatient to get moving again as she swings herself onto the ladder.

Ellie goes next and then you look at Joel who nods at you. You nod and make your way down the ladder, firm in your decision. Joel glances at his watch, thinking about Sarah, and forces himself to keep going. As you walk towards the state building, Joel glances down at Ellie’s arm. Cautious and wondering if she’s gonna turn at any second. When you arrive, there’s no one there and you duck behind a car to see if anyone shows. “Where the fuck are they?” Tess asks and Joel shakes his head, looking back at Tess before his eyes meet yours.

He stands, rifle in his grip, and he makes his way over to the truck. Cautious and alert, he opens the passenger door and turns back to you, Tess and Ellie. “Stay back.” He orders, making his way around the truck to find the back is empty.

“Joel, what the fuck is going on?” You, Tess and Ellie come towards the truck and Joel shakes his head.

“I don’t know.”

You look around, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. “They went inside.” Ellie tells you, pointing to the blood on the ground and you sigh, knowing that is never a good sign.

Tess seems to take this as a personal attack and grabs Ellie’s hand as she marches towards the steps. “Tess.” Joel huffs, making you roll your eyes but you follow are the pair. Not for Tess’s sake, but for the girls. You know Joel will be right behind you. You walk into the state house, finding all of the crew dead on the floor in the middle of a vegetation patch.

“Holy shit.” Ellie hisses, and you have to agree. This is bad.

“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, checking for signs of FEDRA or if it was infected that got them.

Tess searches the bodies, “I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She says, searching the crate closest to her.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks and you shrug, glancing back at Joel who pulls the body at his feet back onto its back.

“No. One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost. Tess? What’re you doin’?” He asks, turning back towards her as she continues searching.

Tess steps towards the girl and you edge your way in front of her to protect her. “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you? Ellie!”

The girl steps forward, “uh. I don’t know. Just west.”

Tess turns away, “just west. Fuck. Okay. Well, I mean one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” She says more to herself. “Joel, can you help me?” She asks, nearly begging.

Joel shakes his head, “no! Tess, it’s over. We are going home.” He walks towards her, wanting to get everyone back to the QZ and safe.

Tess growls, “that’s not my fucking home.” Joel stares at her, eyes unreadable as Tess stands up. “I’m stayin’.” She declares, “I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

Joel’s face falls and your eyes widen just as Ellie says, “fuck. She’s infected.” Joel turns back to Tess, staring at her, almost begging her with his eyes for that to not be true.

“Show me.” Joel demands and you can hear the agony in the two words. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want it to be true. Your stomach drops, hating that she has been infected despite your differences. It didn’t mean you wanted her dead.

“Joel.” She takes a step towards him and instinctively, he jolts backwards, pulling away from her. You walk towards the kid and put your arm around her shoulder gently, wanting to comfort her. Tess pulls her jacket away so you can see the bite on her neck and you close your eyes. “Oops.” She jokes. “Right?’ She turns to Ellie. “Take your bandage off.” You help Ellie take the bandage off to reveal that her own wounds from the clickers haven’t gotten any worse. She’s not infected. Walking over, she takes the girl's arm. “Look, Joel.” She demands, holding it up for him to inspect. “This is real. Joel she’s fucking real.” She insists. “I need you to get her to Bill and Franks.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head.

“They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No, no, no, I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not going to take her.” He frowns.

“They will ‘cause you’ll convince them.” Tess tells him. “Yes you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…” You frown in confusion, not understanding what the fuck she is talking about. Joel loves her.

“No.” Joel shakes his head but Tess interrupts him.

“Not to…shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.” Joel looks devastated and you clutch Ellie’s shoulder as you try not to react to this entire scene being played out in front of you.

“This is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive, and you set everything right. I know you don’t feel the same way I do but you need to stop burying your feelings. Life is too damn short to keep lying to yourself.” Tess says, her eyes meeting yours before she looks back at Joel’s. “All the shit we did…” She looks over at you, “he was gonna offer you up to Robert. He was gonna trade sex with you for the battery we needed.”

Your jaw drops and Joel refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze on Tess’s. “Little puppy dog, always following him around. Thinkin’ you were the third wheel when it was always me.” Tess chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. “Please say yes, Joel, please.” Tess begs and Joel’s gaze shifts over to you.

The way you’re looking at him is enough to make him say no. He wants to protect you, protect the girl. He can’t do that if he takes you both to Bill and Frank’s. “Please.” Tess begs again just as the body behind Ellie shifts to crawl.

“Oh fuck!” The teenager yells and ducks behind you and Joel when you move her out of the way. Joel doesn’t hesitate to take his gun out, killing the bastard, and his jaw is clenched when he sees the fungus curling around the dead digits. He looks towards the door and rushes past Tess to open it. Eyes panicked when he looks back after shutting the door.

“How many?” Tess asks.

“All of them. Maybe a minute.” Joel says, spinning around in a panic to face you but you refuse to meet his eye.

Tess gets to work, pushing over the barrels of gasoline, spilling it over the ornate tile floor. “What are you doing?” You ask and Tess answers with “making sure they don’t follow you.”

Joel is frozen, facing the reality that the woman who’s been his right hand for so long is not walking out of this building with him. He steps closer to her, grenades roll across the floor. “Joel.” Tess moves to stand in front of him. “Joel.” She repeats and he finally meets her gaze. “Save who you can save.” She orders, her eyes flicking over to you before she meets his dark stare.

He’s struggling. Part of him wants to drag Tess out of here but the other side of him wants to keep you safe. He’s torn and eventually, the side of the living wins. He stares at Tess, offering her a small nod, and he spins, grabbing Ellie’s hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Stop! We’re not leaving her. Get off of me you fucker! I’m not going with you!” Ellie shouts and you let Joel drag you out of the building. He’s frantic to get you away before the building explodes with Tess inside of it.

“Hurry up.” He growls, dragging you both until you’re far enough away. He ducks down as the glass explodes, shoving you on the floor, and he grabs his rifle to aim it in case any infected chase after you.

Ellie stands beside him, watching their bodies fall to the floor with the flames, and Joel eventually lowers the gun. “Joel…” You trail off and he shakes his head, turning to walk away. Ellie lingers for a moment until you step forward to follow him.

Your jaw rocks and you shake your head, unable to believe that he had refused to even talk to you after Tess dropped that bomb on you. At least she told you before she died, even though it was supposed to be one last barb through your heart. “I’m not going.” You decide, stopping short, only a few hundred feet from where you had watched the building explode. “This is your mission. For Tess.” You turn around and start walking back the way you just came, sure that the infected will be burned now given the size of the fire bomb and the smoke still billowing from the building.

Joel pauses, watching you for a moment until he strides forward to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stop you walking away. “You ain’t going anywhere. It’s too dangerous. Stop movin’.” He growls when you try to pull out of his grip. “I don’t understand. What - why you wanna go back?”

Instead of trying to pull out of his grip, you spin around, slapping him across his cheek. “You fucking bastard!” You hiss, yanking your wrist away from him as he loosens his grip in shock. “You were going to- going to fucking sell me to Robert for your fucking battery!” Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you don’t even bother wiping them away. “I knew you didn’t-“ you break off, “fuck you, Miller.”

Joel is shocked that you slapped him and he hisses, “Jesus Christ.” He curses Tess despite her soul not even leaving the damn earth yet. “I didn’t sell you. He wanted you and I said no. I fuckin’ told him no.” He clarifies, ignoring the wide eyed look from Ellie.

“Tell me you didn’t think about it.” You challenge him, chest heaving as you step closer and square up to him. “Tell me that you didn’t consider it.” Joel doesn’t answer you and your chin trembles when you see the guilt in his eyes. “I thought so.” You choke out. “I fucking loved you and you were going to whore me out to save money and get your goddamn battery.”

He shakes his head, “no baby. I didn’t - I didn’t do it though.” He chokes, knowing you hate him and he doesn’t know why that destroys him when he’s fought so hard to keep you at arms length. “You can’t love me, okay? I’m - I’m a fucking mess and I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I -” He cuts himself off, knowing that it’s getting dangerous.

“Until you what? Couldn’t whore her out?” You spit, shaking your head at him. “I put up with the stupid fucking nickname. ‘Puppy dog’.” You sneer. “Guess that’s what I was, huh? A stupid little puppy dog that doesn’t fucking realize she’s not wanted. Following you around, helping you, trying to make you- fuck, I don’t know.” You lift your hands helplessly and slap them down against your thighs. “Make you love me, I guess. But that’ll never happen. I’m not Tess.” You close your eyes, and sigh. “Just- go to take Ellie where Tess wanted you to, go find your brother. I’ll- I’ll be fine. I’m not your problem.”

He knows he will lose you forever if he lets you go now and he’s lost so much in his life. The burden he carries every damn day with each life he loses around him. He can’t lose you too. He brushes over what you said to finish his own sentence. “I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I was fuckin’ in love with you and Jesus fuckin’ Christ that terrifies me.” He confesses, chest heaving.

You frown, not believing him for a second. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.” You sob out angrily. “You at least owe me the fucking truth.”

Ellie steps forward. “Hey so, uh- it’s-“

You turn around and glare at her. “Not now!” You hiss, wanting to finish this so you can leave and find some place to hole up for the night before sneaking back into the QZ. “She was practically living in your apartment. She was there every damn night. Now you want to tell me you weren’t fucking her?”

“I stopped. We weren’t - we were plannin’ the smuggling. We weren’t doing shit other than figurin’ out how to get shit past the wall, past FEDRA. Jesus, sweetheart, I didn’t - I don’t want to put you in danger. I’ve been tryin’ to keep you safe. Tess knew how I feel. Shit, she was jealous and that’s why she called you my puppy dog. I should’ve stopped it but doing that wouldn’t meant acknowledging these fuckin’ feelings that I’ve been tryin’ to squash down. Love doesn’t succeed in this goddamn hellhole. Love is a weakness and I - shit - you make me weaker than a paper straw under a one ton weight.”

You don’t know if you believe him. The sting of finding out that he had even thought about giving you to Robert, even for a moment, stings. But you know it would be safer for Ellie if there was more than one capable adult looking out for her ass. There’s enough of you that immediately wants to forgive Joel that you stare into his dark eyes for a moment before you nod. “Fine.” You whisper. “I’ll….go with you on this fucking haul.”

Joel is relieved that you are coming along. He knows this conversation isn’t over but you need to get moving. Get to some kind of shelter before it gets dark. “Come on baby. We can talk later. Let’s get safe first.” He says, grabbing his rifle. Ellie raises her eyebrows at him as he walks past her.

“Never knew you were so emotional, Joel.” She scoffs, remembering the books that would be passed around in secret at the school about romance and how the guy would kiss the girl after declaring he loved her.

Instead of following directly behind Joel, you put the girl between you and him. Bringing up the rear for safety as well as to give you some space to allow for thinking about what the fuck you are going to do. You know Joel isn’t a ‘good man’ in the pre-end of the world morality. Maybe he was then, but this life, this world changed everyone - you included. You don’t even know as much as Tess might have, but you know that he had saved you when he could have killed you. That he didn’t give you to Robert. Biting your lip, you wonder if that’s why he was choking the bastard the day before yesterday. Not that it mattered, the fucker was dead. Sighing softly, you shift your gaze around the fading light to look for somewhere to safely pass the night.

Joel guides you through the forest that is invading Boston, nature taking back what is rightfully hers. Joel sighs, holding his rifle, until he comes around a sheltered area. It’s not comfortable but it’s safe and that’s all that matters. “We will set up here.” He declares, watching the tree line for any disturbances and when he doesn’t find any, he shrugs his pack off.

You don’t speak, just shrug off your own pack and set it down as you start to get the area ready for the night. While the infected weren’t in this area, wild animals were. A fire would be necessary to keep them from getting too close and you know that the sun will be setting soon. You start to drag trash and debris closer, scrapping out an area to start the fire and pile things high. Joel can’t move much, not with his hand even though he would protest over it.

Joel watches you start the fire and Ellie sits down on the ground, opening her pack to pull her sandwich out. She’s starving and she doesn’t want to wait to eat. When you’ve started the fire, Joel pulls out his food and water, holding it out towards you. “You gotta eat, sweetheart.” He says, watching you sit down across from him. He will mourn Tess later when he takes watch. He doesn’t want to show his emotions now when you’ve shattered him with your onslaught.

Shaking your head, you don’t take his offerings. “You need it more than me.” You tell him as you reach for your own pack. “I have my own but I just-” You bite your lip. “I’m going to sleep first. You take first watch and wake me in a few hours.” You don’t let him argue, setting your pack up as a pillow and turning your back on him and the girl, curling in on yourself and forcing yourself to close your eyes.

He doesn’t argue, knowing you need to rest and he needs time to think. Ellie looks at him as he starts to chew on the jerky and he ignores her raised eyebrows. “Don’t say a word, kid.” He orders, shaking his head after he swallows the chewy bark.

Ellie rolls her eyes, “whatever dude. You can’t see what’s right in front of you. What Tess saw.” She says and continues eating. Joel grimaces, thinking of Tess. He tried to hide how he felt about you from her, thinking he had been successful but he wasn’t.

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep, but your jerk awake with a gasp. Your hand reaches for the gun that is right next to you and you flip over to try to figure out what woke you. The fire is still burning and the kid is curled but about five feet from you, wedged between the concrete wall and the fire. Joel is still awake, his eyes watching as you sit up. “Shit.” You huff, putting the gun down and blinking rapidly. “Get some sleep, I’ll take over.” You promise, groaning quietly as you move to your feet to stretch.

Joel shakes his head, “no. I wanna talk. Come here.” He pats the space beside him, wanting you to come and sit down.

You hesitate but eventually sit down beside him. “What is it Joel?” You murmur, not wanting to rehash this bullshit.

“Shut up.” He orders and you open your mouth. “Shut the fuck up.” He hisses, pissed off with you. “I’m not gonna make this damn speech again, okay? I don’t do this shit. Not since before outbreak day. I - I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t - I can’t lose someone else and I - I haven’t felt this way in so damn long and I tried to ignore it but I love you. I’m in love with you darlin’ and that fuckin’ terrifies me.”

His speech startles you, not expecting to hear something like that. Not from him. You close your eyes and absorb the words that you have wanted to hear for so long, believing them to be nothing more than a wistful dream. “I’m sorry.” You offer. “For that, I guess. For Tess.” You have to look away from his dark gaze, unable to look at him for too long without wanting to kiss him. “I’m not sorry that I love you though.” You murmur, looking into the fire. “It’s- it hurt everyday but it was worth it.”

He turns to look at you, his brown eyes almost orange as they reflect the flames of the fire. He’s slow, giving you a chance to pull away but he leans in, cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb caresses the skin there and he leans in to kiss your lips. It’s soft, the opposite of him, but he wants this moment to be good, to be memorable in case you don’t make it past tomorrow. In this life, every day is a bonus.

Eyes slipping closed, you want to live in this moment. Joel’s lips on yours makes your entire body tingle. Reaching up and taking his hand while your other finds his shoulders. Moaning softly because you can’t believe this is happening and you never expect it to be so gentle.

Joel groans softly into the kiss, grabbing your ass to pull you into his lap. Straddling him and he glances over your shoulder to make sure the kid is still asleep. “Fuck.” Joel groans when you are pressed against him, his lips finding your jaw and he kisses until his lips press against yours again.

You whine again his lips when his hands squeeze your ass just like you’ve imagined more times than you ever want to admit. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shamelessly grinding down on the bulge in his jeans that you had always salivated over. “Joel.” You whisper, not wanting to wake the kid. “I-“ he shushes you, pressing his lips to yours again.

His hands slide under your shirt, wanting to feel more of you, and he groans when you grind down on him again, cock hardening in his jeans. He thinks you’re gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, and he’s jerked off thinking about you too many lonely nights after he stopped sleeping with Tess. “We gotta be quiet.” He orders, sliding his hands higher so he can undo the clasp of your bra. He doesn’t take it off, just pushes it up your chest so he can slide his hands around your torso to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind that wonders if this is because Tess is dead. If you’re merely replacing her for him. You push it down, ignore it. You don’t care when you are getting to touch him like you’ve always wanted to. Ducking your head down and kissing the bare patch on his jaw like you’ve always wanted to. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you try to get him free from his pants. You can’t ride him like this, not without taking your pants off and that’s dangerous. Hell, this is too dangerous really. You’re distracted by him.

He knows this is dangerous, the girl could wake up, but he desperately wants to feel you. He works on your pants, unbuttoning them and he shoves his hand inside, cupping your cunt after sliding under your panties. He finds you wet but not dripping and his fingers rub your clit after sliding through your folds.

You swear you’re going to bite through your lip trying to keep quiet. Loving the thick fingers you’ve watched so many times slide though your folds and press against your clit. “Joel.” You pant, needing more from him. “I- you have to fuck me.” You gasp out. “Please. Just- just once.” You know that he might change his mind come morning. That he could put that wall back up but you will be happy if you just get one night. “Please, baby. I need you.”

He nods, knowing he needs that connection. Losing Tess, nearly losing you, it’s been a long ass day and he wants to connect to you. He whispers for you to stand up and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine softly. When you stand, he pulls your jeans and panties down to your ankles, dragging you back into his lap so you are straddling him, cunt bare to the cool night air. He reaches down to take his cock out, “can’t cum inside of you. Gonna need you to let me drag you off when I cum.” He whispers, knowing he won’t risk you like that.

You nod quickly, readily agreeing to whatever he wants. “I know- it’s- it’s okay.” You promise, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the thick head of his cock and moaning quietly at the smear of pre-cum building up on the tip so gorgeously. “I-“ instead of telling him that you love him again, you rock your hips forward and line him up so you can sink down on him with a moan of his name that is pressed to his shoulder as you take him.

Fuck, you’re so tight. Hot and wet around him and you mean so much to him. His heart thumps in his chest while his cock twitches when you bottom out. “Fuckkkk.” He hisses through his teeth, hands gripping your ass and he struggles to remain calm as he allows you a moment to adjust around him. “Gotta be quiet.” He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin beneath it.

“You- you might have to cover my mouth.” You admit breathlessly, whispering the words to him as you flash him a quick smile. “Always been loud in bed.” An irony in a world where you’ve had to be silent at so many times when you just wanted to scream. Your fingers sink into his hair and you tug on it slightly as you start to move, wanting to ride him and eager to feel this incredible cock filling you more.

Joel knows he will want more after this. He’s already addicted to you and the thought of ever giving this up, you up, has him on edge. He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with his tongue, and he groans softly when your walls grip him tight when you find the angle that works for you. His hands slide up and down your back, squeezing your ass and enjoying how damn good you feel around him.

You try to stifle your sounds but it’s hard when he feels like he’s in your fucking throat. Stretching you out and making you feel more relaxed than you have in years, while craving more. Your tongue tangles with his while your thighs start to push up and down, moving yourself on his length in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Needing to feel every inch of him as much as you can.

Joel is trying to hang on to his composure, resist the urge to roll you over and just slam into you, fuck you into the ground, but he can’t. The kid is there. He can’t do that now. So he lets you lead, just pulling back to watch you work yourself on his cock. When your mouth opens to moan again, he shoves two fingers in there, wanting you to keep quiet. “Can’t wake the kid, darlin’. You gotta keep quiet.” He reminds you, leaning in to rasp in your ear.

His hands are dirty, filthy. You should want to spit them out but you don’t. Not even caring at this point. The feeling of his cock shredding up into you every time your hips fall is too good to care. His voice rumbling in your ear makes your cunt clench around him, swearing you can cum from him talking.

There’s so much to say to you and yet he can’t. The risk is too much, to both waking up the kid, and to his own heart. He can’t bring himself to say anything but he does lean in to kiss you, replacing his fingers with his lips, and his hand finds your clit. Rubbing tight circles in it as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

You whimper, groaning as he keeps rubbing your clit. Trying to keep quiet but it’s so hard when he feels this good. Your arms tighten around him and you kiss him harshly, feeling your cunt bottom out and your entire body light up with pleasure as you start to cum for him.

“That’s it baby.” Joel practically exhales into your mouth as you clamp down on his cock, body shaking against his. He pulls you closer, thrusting up into you as best he can until he’s pushing you onto the ground beside him, barely managing to shift onto his knees to cum on the dirt and not ruin your clothing. He pants, chest heaving while his cock twitches in his hand. “Jesus Christ.” He exhales, letting go of his cock to tuck himself away and he shuffles over to where you are on the ground. “Sorry baby. Couldn’t - needed to pull out.”

“It’s fine.” You pant, understanding why he needed to pull out, but wishing he hadn’t. “You can’t risk it.” You’ve never told him anyway and in the moment isn’t a good time anyway. It’s not like it matters anyway. You shuffle quietly, trying to pull your clothes back on and put yourself to rights.

Joel watches you put your clothes back on and once you’re settled, he reaches for your hand, dragging you close to wrap his arms around you. He breathes you in, relieved that he didn’t lose you today. He lost Tess, which he will process and grieve in his own way, but right now, he’s just happy to have you. He loves you, he really does. He wishes he had told you sooner but this life is unpredictable at the best of times. You have a journey ahead with him to get to Bill and Frank’s and he will do everything he can to keep you safe. Whatever it takes…he won’t lose anyone else he loves.

****

Joel reluctantly turns over the responsibility of watch to you. He needs rest, you know he didn’t sleep last night and he’s had a fucking hell of a day. You all had, but him most of all. Whatever him and Tess had been towards the end, he had cared for her in his own way and he needed to grieve her. You keep the fire crackling, staring into the flames when you aren’t watching the inky blackness around your small space and listening for more than the rustles of wildlife. Your jerky and your water bottle your own companions through the rest of the night until the first rays of sun peak over the horizon and the sky begins to brighten.

When Joel wakes up, you and Ellie are talking, and he winces at the sunlight, trying to figure out how long he’s been asleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?” He grunts and you shake your head, “you needed to sleep.”

Ellie nods, “yeah man. You had a rough day yesterday.”

He sits up, running his fingers through his hair and he shifts to stand up. “We gotta get going. Get your shit together. I’m gonna take a piss.” He stumbles to the tree line, gun in hand and he checks his surroundings before he shoves the weapon in the back of his jeans and pulls his cock out to pee. When he returns, you’ve put the fire out and are ready to go. Joel grabs his pack and leads the way, rifle in hand.

You walk alongside Ellie for a bit, hanging back as you try to figure out how to tell Joel. You should, he deserves to know. “So, uh, did you work your shit out?” Ellie asks, making you look over at her. “Cause I don’t want it to be a tense trip.” She offers, making you snort.

“It’s going to be a tense trip regardless.” You remind her, the journey is no walk in the park for sure. “But we’ve talked. While you were asleep.”

Ellie snorts, “talked. Sure.” She doesn’t believe you just talked. She’s not dumb. She learned about all that in school and she knows that’s how most adults show how they feel. You fluster and look at Joel as he strides ahead, rifle gripped in his hand. He sighs and looks over his shoulder at you and Ellie.

You see Joel jerk his head towards you, motioning for you to come up beside him. Eager to get away from Ellie’s prying questions, you hustle forward and catch up to him. “Something up?” You ask, wondering if he wants to talk about the plan for getting Ellie to Bill and Frank’s.

Joel turns to look at you as you come alongside him, “everything okay with the kid?” He asks and you nod, “yeah she’s good.”

He sighs, “you think she’s gonna be okay with Bill and Frank?” You shrug, “who knows.” Joel glances behind him again to see Ellie looking around and he takes a chance to reach out and hold your hand.

Shocked, you look down at his large hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight and yet he’s not crushing it. Your heart thumps in your chest and it’s impossible to not fall more in love with him. “Joel- I need to tell you something.” You murmur softly, not wanting Ellie to hear.” You can feel him tense up but you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s not- it’s nothing bad. Or, I guess it’s better to say, "I made peace with it a long time ago.” You take a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.” You confess. “I can never have kids.”

Joel frowns, turning to look at you. "You can't - shit. Baby, I'm so sorry." He murmurs, knowing it must've been hard to process. "What - what did they say?" He is curious and wants to know why you can't have kids. He also wants to comfort you but all he can do is squeeze your hand. Even this is more intimacy than he is used to displaying.

“Premature ovarian failure.” You roll your eyes at the words that had been told you so many years ago. “Basically, I stop producing eggs.” You explain. “I found out about two years before the end of the world. So I guess it’s handy?” You try, your joke falling flat. “Not that I would want to have kids in a world like this. It’s not fair to them. Not fair to her.” You nod back towards Ellie. “I just- if we, you know, again….you don’t have to pull out if you don’t want to. If you do, I get it.”

Joel feels guilty that he is happy to hear he doesn't need to pull out but he's sad that you won't get to be a mom. You'd be good at it, even in this fucked up world. "I'm sorry you couldn't, you know, but, next time...I want you in a bed and I ain't gonna pull out." He murmurs so the kid can't hear.

You shiver slightly, happy to hear that there will be a next time if both of you can help it. You hum quietly and shoot him a small smirk. “Maybe we can find a hotel to spend the night in tonight.” You tease softly, not sure what awaits you on this journey but at least you’ll be there. By his side this time, instead of trailing along behind him like his little puppy.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #hbo the last of us spoilers #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction

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hungermakesmonsters · 5 months ago

Text

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Eleven

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence against reader. Also some very smutty smut using toys (not related to the violence). All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : Please, please, please read the warning. I'm sorry it's probably a little spoiler-y but I'd rather be safe than sorry even though I don't tend to write these things in the most graphic way. If you don't want to read it, it's the last few hundred words of the chapter (I think it's pretty well telegraphed). Also, I'm sorry for this, please don't hate me 😅

MASTER LIST

Chapter Eleven

Billy didn’t go back to work and, as the days passed it got harder and harder to tell if he was better for it. Every time you’d mention it, he’d mutter something about Frank, about not wanting to have to deal with it and, then, distract you by telling you about how he’d rather spend time with you. And, when that stopped working, when you’d try to talk to him about it, he’d move onto more physical means of distraction.

But every time his phone buzzed or lit up with a notification, you’d see his irritation flare.

You sat with your legs draped over his lap as you tried to concentrate on your book, The Count of Monte Cristo, while Billy read emails on his phone. You had wanted to suggest doing something, going out for a drive or to see a movie, but Billy seemed tired and you didn’t want to bother him.

His phone buzzed and he huffed.

“Was that work?” You dared to ask him and received a grumbled answer in response. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to avoid it forever, Billy...”

“I’m not avoiding it,” he sighed, rubbing his hand over your bare calf, “I just don’t want to deal with it right now.”

“He’s not going to change his mind about us unless you talk to him,” you tried again. “Unless you’re planning on skipping work for the next eight months...”

At this point, you were starting to wonder if that was the plan, if Billy was simply going to stay home every night until your contract was over. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go back to work. But, as much as you were enjoying having him in the penthouse every night, you felt responsible, like you were fucking up his life.

“We could go away together? Somewhere with a beach?” He tried to change the subject.

“Billy...”

“I don’t want him to ruin this for us,” he relented, his tone turning tense. “These last few days have been so good and I just want it to last a little longer.”

“He’s not going to ruin anything,” you told him. “We get to decide what this is. No one else. I just don’t want you to burn bridges and wreck your life for me.”

He fell silent and you hoped he was thinking about what you were trying to tell him. As much as the incident at the party had upset you, you couldn’t just think about yourself; in just over eight months time, you’d be gone and Billy would have to carry on without you. You didn’t want him to lose friends or damage his business on your account.

“Fine, I’ll go in tomorrow.”

You kept your relief to yourself, not wanting to say or do anything to anything that might make him change his mind. Your attention returned to your book while Billy got up and headed for the kitchen, answering his phone as he went. Obviously he wanted some privacy, but that didn’t stop you from trying to listen in to Billy’s quietly spoken half of the conversation.

“What do you mean you lost her?” He practically hissed. “How did she even... past security... whose plus one?”

His voice got lower making it impossible for you to hear anything else, but the call lasted at least another minute and the look on Billy’s face when he returned told you far more than words ever could; he was frustrated.

“Is everything okay?”

“It will be,” he answered cryptically. You gave him a questioning look urging him to explain. “I’m just making sure Krista can’t get near you again.”

“Oh.”

It was the first time he’d mentioned her since the party. You hadn’t asked. Honestly, you hadn’t wanted to. The less you thought about other women Billy had let into his life, the better.

“I’m not going to let her hurt you,” Billy promised, sitting back down and pulling your legs back onto his lap. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You both fell back into silence; your attention returned to your book and Billy continued to look at his phone, reading through messages and declining calls. Eventually, put his phone face down on the coffee table. Over the top of your book, you watched him rub his eyes and slouch back.

For a moment you thought he might close his eyes and try to rest but, instead, he caught you peeking at him.

“You know, I was thinking about the other night,” he said as his hand moved back to your leg and softly caressed your bare skin, from your ankle up to the hem of your cropped leggings and back again.

“Which part of the other night?” You asked, a hint of warmth already starting to bloom across your cheeks.

His fingers wrapped around your ankle, lightly holding you, as if he thought there was any chance that you might try to pull away from him.

“The part when you had my cock in your mouth, giving me the best blowjob of my life, and you came without my permission,” he stated with a smirk, making a point of ignoring the way your breath caught. You bit your lip as he looked at you. “You owe me an orgasm, hummingbird.”

“Is that my punishment? To come for you?” You asked, trying to fight back your embarrassment so you could play his game.

His smirk turned to something darker, something almost sinister, something barely restrained and full of wanting. “That depends on if you want consequences for breaking the rules.”

Your heart skipped a beat; at the unasked question and the hungry way he was looking at you. Already he seemed to be forgetting about work, Krista, and everything else that had upset him, and you wanted to keep him that way.

“They wouldn’t really be rules if they didn’t have consequences,” you said, trying to hide your nerves though you were sure he could see right through you.

“Are you willing to accept any punishment that I choose?” He asked and you nodded. “So, if I told you to go to your room and bring back one of your toys, you’d do it?”

You stopped breathing. You felt completely frozen, like even your heart didn’t know whether to beat or not. Your cheeks felt like they were burning and your wide eyes were fixed on him.

A couple of seconds later, Billy opened his mouth, no doubt about to tell you that you didn’t have to, that he was only playing around. There was a flash of something like embarrassment on his face, regretting taking things too far.

“Yes,” the word leaving your lips in an awkward squeak before he could walk back the question.

Billy seemed just as surprised as you were, so much so that he hesitated before responding, leaving you with time to change your mind if you wanted to. But you didn’t want to change your mind. You had no idea what he was planning or what he wanted to do, but you wanted it, in part because you wanted to try and bring him out of his frustrated mood but, also, because you were feeling brave.

He licked his lips, waiting a second more, not taking his eyes off of you.

“Okay then, go and get the toy you used the morning I heard you moaning my name,” he said, a hint of daring in his tone, as if he was still expecting you to back out.

Moving your legs from his lap, you stood up and slowly started to walk towards your rooms, trying your best to just breathe through the waves of panic and excitement that were crashing over you. Your steps got quicker once you’d slipped through the door to your room, not wanting to overthink what might happen in case it made you want to back out.

You quickly retrieved the blue vibrator and returned to Billy, watching as his grin grew wider. You didn’t realise that you were clutching it tightly in both hands until Billy extended his hand.

Your heart raced as he took the toy from you and inspected it, turning it in his hand before looking back at you. Without saying a word, Billy reached for you, placing his hand on your chest above your racing heart and for a few seconds his eyes shut, just enjoying the moment. Then he kissed you, pulling you close. Your own eyes fluttered shut.

His fingers hooked on the waistband of your leggings and you helped him lower them, stepping out of them without breaking the kiss.

A gasp slipped out against his lips as you felt him press the toy between your thighs, softly rubbing it against you over your panties. You tensed when he turned it on, a bolt of arousal running up your spine, causing you to arch your body against him.

He moved you back, leading you down onto the sofa and following after, keeping his lips against yours and the toy between your legs.

It wasn’t long before your hips started to move, desperately seeking more friction despite how self-conscious you felt. Your heart was still racing and embarrassment was clawing beneath your ribs, but you wanted more. And so did Billy.

The toy was dropped onto the sofa while his hands started to pull at your panties, revealing you to him.

“Fuck, hummingbird, you’re soaked already,” he muttered, roughly tugging your panties the rest of the way down, leaving you in nothing but your baggy shirt that had ridden up to just below your bust.

Your cheeks burned as he lifted the panties to his face and took a long inhale through his nose. His body shuddered and tensed.

“How is it that everything about you makes me want?” He asked, dropping your panties to the floor. He slipped the vibrator between your legs again, pressing the tip against your clit before turning it on again. “I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never have enough of you.”

Before you could even try to wrap your head around what he was saying, his lips were on yours, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.

It wasn’t long before you were moaning against his lips, almost forgetting that this was supposed to be punishment. Almost forgetting that you didn’t have his permission to come.

He pulled the vibrator back just in time, turning it off. “Not until I say so.”

You nodded, taking deep breaths and trying to calm yourself. When you were ready, you felt the toy between your folds as he coated it in your arousal, before positioning it at your entrance.

Your lips parted and a moan tore from you as he began to fill you. Wet enough to take the toy without any resistance, it wasn’t long before every inch was inside of you, and Billy started to fuck you with it. He started slow, but it didn’t last.

“Moan for me,” he groaned against your neck, still fucking you with the toy, “moan for me like you did that morning...”

“Billy...” you moaned, then; “Mr Russo...”

You heard his breath catch and a growl claw its way from him, and even though you were at his mercy, it made you feel powerful.

“Mr Russo...” you gasped, over and over.

His lips covered yours, swallowing down the moans that he’d asked for, as if he’d realised that it was too much, that he couldn’t take anymore. He pulled back the toy, almost slipping it from you entirely before filling you with it again and starting to set a much faster pace. Your eyes stayed closed tight, imagining that it was Billy inside you, that he was finally giving you what you both craved.

That thought alone had you clenching around the toy, your arousal climbing higher and higher, pushing you closer to breaking point. He took you right to the precipice before pulling the toy out, leaving you empty and unfulfilled.

Your eyes opened, fixing on him, whining when you saw his smirk.

“You wanted a punishment,” he told you darkly, tormenting you by pressing the tip of the vibrator against you, pulling it back again when you shifted your hips, trying to push yourself onto it. “If you misbehave you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

You stilled immediately, earning a smile from Billy. He kissed you softly, distracting you as he turned the vibrator back on and ghosted it over your swollen clit. Again, you squirmed, wanting more than just a grazing touch.

“Do I have to tie you down?” He asked against your lips, his tone causing your heart to race a little faster, leaving no doubt in your mind that he’d do it.

It should have worried you, maybe even scared you, but all you could think about was the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

Billy continued to tease you, but even those gentle touches were enough to start you climbing towards orgasm, and he knew it. Every fibre of your being seemed to tense, like thousands of springs being coiled too tight, at any moment you knew that you’d snap.

But, again, Billy denied you.

“Billy,” you pleaded as a feeling of discomfort started to fill you.

“I think I preferred Mr Russo,” he teased, an edge to his voice that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Mr Russo,” you tried again, wanting to give him whatever he wanted.

“That’s better.” A moment later, he had the toy against your lips and a dark grin on his lips. “Open up.”

You hesitated for a beat before doing what you were told, parting your lips and letting him slip the vibrator into your mouth. Without being asked, you started to suck the toy as he moved it in and out of your mouth.

“I dream about this mouth,” he groaned against your ear, “and these perfect lips, and how good they feel wrapped around my cock. It’s like you were made just for me.”

Another moan escaped you as his teeth nipped your ear. When he lifted himself over you again, he stared, watching the toy as he fucked your mouth with it, his jaw set. You kept your eyes on his, letting him see exactly what he was doing to you.

You licked your lips when he finally pulled the toy away. You didn’t look down, didn’t beg for what you needed, you just kept looking at him, giving him complete control.

“Mr Russo...” you gasped as he plunged the toy between your walls again, this time moving at a merciless pace that you knew you’d never be able to withstand.

“Come for me,” he demanded, turning the vibrator back on as he fucked you with it.

You did as ordered, crying out as your body was finally granted relief.

You weren’t sure when he’d pulled his cock from his sweatpants, but there it was as he kneeled over you, your thighs shook wildly as he kept the vibrator buried inside you with one hand and started to desperately fist himself with the other.

He grunted and swore, coming quickly, finally pulling the toy away so he could coat your trembling pussy and thighs with his cum. You whined softly, overstimulated and far too sensitive, as his finger ran through your folds pushing some of his cum inside you, like he was claiming you and marking you as his.

Reaching for him, you pulled him down into a kiss, expecting things to de-escalate now that you were both satisfied. Instead he kissed you roughly, pressing his hips down against yours, letting you feel how achingly hard he still was.

Your fingers tangled in his hair until he took hold of your wrists and pinned them beside your head. Your breath caught and you struggled against his lips.

“Billy,” you gasped, tearing your lips from his.

If he heard, he gave no response, moving his lips to your neck, sucking and nipping, until you felt something sharp scrape your skin.

Fangs.

“Billy...”

A deep, guttural growl vibrated through his chest - a sound you’d heard before.

There was another scrape against your neck, this time causing pain. But before you could say anything, he was already pulling away from you. He moved awkwardly and suddenly, ending up on the floor next to the sofa, his head in his hands.

“Fuck - fuck - I’m sorry.”

It took a few seconds before you could think straight, reaching up to touch your neck and the small cut he’d left on your skin. Not a bite, just a scratch really, but enough to draw blood.

Torn between comforting him and running, you found yourself frozen, trying to understand what had just happened. And, as you thought back, you hated yourself for not noticing the warning signs sooner; the look on his face, the things that he’d said and the way he’d said them.

“Hey,” you finally managed, awkwardly sitting up, trying to ignore the mess he’d left between your thighs. Gingerly, you reached for him, running your fingers through his hair. Billy bristled at your touch. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” he snapped, head still in his hands, “how can you say it’s okay? How can you keep saying that?”

“Because you stopped yourself. Again,” you answered back. “It’s a scratch, Billy. We both know that you could’ve done so much worse.”

“How can you be so relaxed about this?” Billy demanded, finally lifting his head and letting you see the anguish on his face. “I feel like a fucking timebomb and you’re there acting like you weren’t just five seconds away from death.”

“Would you have killed me?” You dared to ask, cutting through all of the usual bullshit, not sure how else to try and settle the issue once and for all.

“I -” for a moment he just stared at you, torn between what he wanted to tell you and the thing that terrified him more than anything, “- I don’t know. I - I don’t even know if I wanted to kill you or...”

A chill ran through you at what was left unsaid, filling that blank with a dozen terrible thoughts, and when you didn’t immediately respond, Billy took that as a sign, pulling away and getting to his feet.

“Stop,” you quickly got up, legs feeling weak beneath you while your hands pulled your baggy shirt down to try and cover yourself. “Please don’t go.”

“Why are you fighting so hard for me?”

“Because someone has to, Billy,” you told him without hesitation, “because you deserve to have someone on your side, even if you don’t think that you do. You haven’t hurt me and I don’t think that you will, so stop trying to scare me.”

He seemed stunned by the sudden firmness in your tone, so much so that he didn’t try to argue.

“Now, sit down. I need to go clean up,” you told him, taking a step back. “If you try to leave while I’m gone, I will never forgive you.”

Billy hesitated but soon sat, fixing his gaze on the window while you grabbed your leggings and panties from the floor and headed towards your rooms.

You cleaned up as quickly as you could, putting a bandaid over the cut on your neck and changing into your pyjamas when you were done. As quick as you were, it still felt too slow and your heart was pounding uncomfortably with the thought that he’d be gone by the time you made it back out to the penthouse.

But he wasn’t. He was exactly where you’d left him.

You cleared the distance and sat beside him, throwing your arms around him before he could even think about protesting, holding him tight.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be around you right now,” he told you, his voice betraying his exhaustion.

“I think it is. I think this is the best place for you right now.” You said, watching as the confusion on his face deepened. “Just let me look after you. I don’t want to be alone right now, and I don’t think you do either...”

Moving slowly, you reached for a cushion and placed it on your lap, patting it softly.

“Lay down,” you said softly, leaning a little so you could take hold of his hand and gently urge him towards you.

After a moment of hesitation, Billy moved, laying down and resting his head on the cushion. You started to gently run your fingers through his hair, and heard an awkward breath escape him.

“I used to get sick a lot when I was a kid and my nanna used to sit with me like this for hours,” you told him softly, watching as, little by little, he let himself relax.

You let a few minutes pass in silence, watching as the tension started to leave him, fingers still running through his hair. Eventually, you reached for the TV remote and put on Netflix, starting the next episode of Black Sails.

“Pirates again?” He grumbled, the weight of his exhaustion seeming to catch up with him. You weren’t sure what caused him to lose control, but you were starting to realise just how much effort it took for him to rein it back in.

“Pirates again,” you confirmed. “Just close your eyes and relax.”

The whole while you kept stroking his hair, letting your eyes drop to him every few minutes, watching as he slowly gave up on trying to keep his eyes open. It was hard to tell if he was sleeping, but he was certainly more relaxed than he had been.

Hours passed. After three episodes of Black Sails, you decided to turn off the TV and close your eyes. At some point you drifted off, only to be woken when Billy started to move. His body was tense, eyes still shut tight, letting out the most heart rending little mutters, sounding like a terrified, wounded animal.

For a short while, you waited, hoping it would pass and he’d settle again, but it just seemed to get worse.

“Billy?” You tried, gently at first, running your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. “Billy, it’s just a dream. You’re okay.”

He awoke with a gasp.

“Hey, you’re okay, everything’s okay,” you continued, still stroking his hair.

“Huh, what -” it took him a second to realise where he was. You watched him sit up, noticing the way that exhaustion seemed to cling to him. When he reached for his phone to check the time, his hand was shaking so much he almost dropped it. “I’m sorry, I -”

“What are you apologising for?”

“It’s two in the morning, I kept you up all night worrying,” he told you, looking about ready to get up and leave. “I should -”

“You should lay back down and rest. You look exhausted,” you told him softly.

“But you need to sleep too.”

“I was sleeping,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently tugging him back.

As much as Billy wanted to argue, he was too tired. He laid back down while you grabbed your yellow blanket from the back of the sofa and settled behind him, pressing yourself against his back and covering you both.

He gave an uncertain sort of huff. “I’m not used to being the little spoon.”

And, despite the situation, you found yourself bursting into laughter, pressing your face against the back of his neck and holding him all the tighter. A moment later you felt his body shudder with a tired laugh of his own.

“Go to sleep, little spoon,” you muttered sleepily, snuggling closer.

He was still for a few minutes, leading you to hope he’d fallen asleep until you heard him sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered.

“I just want to keep you safe.”

“I’m safer here with you than I would be if I left,” you confessed softly, pressing your lips to the back of his neck

“So I’m the lesser of two evils?”

“No, Billy, you’re who I want to be with, even though I know it’ll never be easy...”

You heard him take an awkward breath before starting to move, turning himself so he could face you. In the dark you could barely make out his face, but you knew he was looking at you.

“Stay with me,” he said suddenly, desperately, like the thought had been weighing on him for hours.

“I am,” you told him, “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, I mean after. I mean for more than a year,” then, much quieter, “forever.”

“I...”

You fell silent, barely daring to breathe. More than anything, you wanted to say yes; you wanted to belong there with Billy, you wanted to spend the rest of your life in his arms.

“Whatever you’re running from, I can protect you. I can keep you safe,” he continued. “I want to be yours...”

“Billy...”

“I know it’s fucked up to ask you, but I can work on it, I can learn to stay in control, I can -”

“That’s not the problem, Billy. I know you can stay in control, it’s just...” you sighed. “My life is more complicated than you think and I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

“Is that a no then?” He asked, sounding broken just at the thought.

“No. I don’t know. I need some time to think,” you tried to explain, earning another sigh from him. “I want you to be mine, Billy. More than anything. But I can’t just say yes now and hurt you in the long run. Just - just give me some time, okay?”

“Okay,” he said before falling silent.

Reaching for his cheek, you pressed your lips to his, and closed your eyes tight. “I want you to be mine. I want to stay. Things are just complicated,” you whispered before letting out a tired sigh, “I’ve been dreaming about falling asleep in your arms...”

“Oh, hummingbird,” he muttered softly, pressing his lips to your forehead and holding you tight.

You didn’t feel him start to move until the break of dawn. In your sleep, you’d shifted, ending up with your head on his chest and your hand beneath his sweater resting on his waist, holding him tight.

He gave you a tired smile as you lifted your head.

“How did you sleep?” He asked.

“Five more minutes,” you muttered sleepily, burying your face against his neck.

Billy laughed, holding you tight and kissing the top of your head. “I’d stay like this with you forever if I could.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying last night. For trusting me,” you told him, keeping your face hidden. “I know it’s not easy for you and you scare yourself sometimes, but it means a lot that you didn’t walk out.”

He didn’t say anything and, even if he had, you weren’t sure what you would have wanted to hear. Instead, you just closed your eyes again and tried to enjoy your five more minutes.

Eventually, you had to let Billy go so he could go to bed. You weren’t sure how much sleep he’d managed to get but you wanted to make sure he was rested before his return to work that night.

That evening, you met him with his blood, nice and warm in his travel mug and ready for him to take to work. He seemed a little unsettled at the prospect, but you didn’t give him time to linger before ushering him out of the penthouse.

You missed having him around, but you hoped he’d be able to fix things with Frank, and that you’d all be able to move on with your lives. It was a quiet night and you spent it relaxing before heading to bed early, falling asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

A loud crash in the penthouse startled you awake some time before four am. Without even stopping to think you shot out of bed and headed for the door.

You stepped out into the gloom, finding the dining table had been flipped and one of the chairs laid broken and splintered against the wall. And, standing amidst the destruction was Billy.

“Billy, what’s -”

The question was left unfinished. The moment he turned you had your answer. It was like this first night in the kitchen all over again, only somehow worse. His dark eyes fixed on you, his whole body seeming to tremble and twitch like he was trying to crawl out of his own skin.

A low snarl escaped him and, for a split-second, he flashed his fangs.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer any of the usual warnings or tell you to stay back, he just watched you edging closer and closer.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You asked softly, knowing you needed to pull him out of it.

As you got closer, you noticed the state of him; his shirt was torn and drenched in blood, and there were deep scratches on his neck like someone had been clawing at his throat. With the holes in his shirt and the cuts on his neck, you couldn’t tell if all the blood belonged to Billy.

You needed to get a closer look.

He gave another snarl. “Don’t.”

But you didn’t let that stop you. You edged closer, trying to get a look at him in the dim light. The corner of his lip curled again, giving you another glimpse at his fangs. His hand tightened to a fist at his side and he almost seemed to move forward before pulling himself back.

“Billy, what happened?” You tried again.

He took a shuddered breath, almost wincing as you reached for him, tenderly placing a hand on his cheek, hoping you could soothe him.

“Who did this to you?”

He leaned into your touch and his eyes closed, and for the briefest of seconds you allowed yourself to believe you’d fixed whatever this was.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist before you could even think to pull away, yanking your arm awkwardly as he forced you backwards, slamming you back against the wall. You yelped in pain, the impact forcing the air from your lungs. And, when you looked in his eyes, Billy wasn’t there anymore.

“Billy,” you gasped, pushing against him, trying to escape his grasp.

A sob slipped out as he forced you back against the wall again, reminding you that you were nothing more than a weak, pathetic human.

Another snarl tore from his lips and he bared his fangs.

You turned and twisted and pulled, doing everything you could to keep him from biting you, raising your knee and hitting him in the groin as hard as you could. Billy staggered, winded, letting out an angry howl, his grip loosening enough for you to pull away.

Starting to run, you almost made it to your door when he grabbed your wrist again, this time pulling so hard that you screamed.

“Mine,” he growled, pulling you back towards him.

The pain in your arm was overwhelming and only got worse when you tried to move.

“Billy, please,” you sobbed, “this isn’t you. You don’t want to hurt me. Please, don’t ruin this.”

For a moment he almost looked like your words had gotten through to him, but then he continued to pull you towards him, pressing your body to his.

You lashed out again, kicking and swinging your fist, managing to catch his face in a way that had his nose exploding and blood spraying everywhere.

This time you ran faster, making it into your rooms and into your bedroom.

Billy followed after, only a couple of steps behind, blood pouring from his broken nose.

You tried to shut the door, only to find his hand blocking it - a hand that he quickly pulled back when it started to sizzle. He couldn’t come inside. He couldn’t get to you in your room.

All he could do was stand and stare at you, his chest heaving, his face bloody, looking more monster than man. You clutched your injured arm to your chest, tears streaming down your face.

“I trusted you,” you sobbed, watching for a reaction and getting nothing but anger from the vampire.

A couple of seconds passed before you slammed the door shut and dropped to your knees. A loud thud in the corridor had you crawling towards the door, pressing your back against it even though you knew he couldn’t get in. There were more sounds out in the penthouse, more thuds and bangs before, eventually, everything went silent.

End Note : As much as I love writing chapters like this one, I kinda hate posting them because I know that it's not exactly what some people want to read. So, I guess, no hard feeling if you don't want to continue reading after this one? IDK posting anything darker always makes me a little nervous but I don't want cute fluff all the time, especially not when I'm writing a vampire fic. But I do promise reasons and resolutions to this. It's not just there for shock value, is what I'm trying to say. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now 😅 Thanks for reading! I hope you have a great weekend and, as ever, thanks for all the love and support you showed on the last chapter!!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

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#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher #(ob)ts ff #billy russo imagine

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five-hxrgreeves · 2 years ago

Text

Not Like Quill

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

WC: 2.5k (longer than I intended, oof!)

SUMMARY: after your half-brother and half-sister leave, you’re left to fill in Peter’s shoes on the Guardian team. Unfortunately, Rocket can only see the faults where you lack the qualities that his best friend has. Luckily, though, a certain golden boy is always there to cheer you up.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, fluff, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: so this is my first official one shot AND first time writing for GOTG (hopefully I did a good job.) I saw GOTG3 in the theaters almost a week ago and WOW, was I surprised by Adam!! (I make it a point to not watch trailers to avoid spoilers.) I liked Will in The Dawn Treader but I haven’t seen any of his other movies since they’re not genres I usually watch, but I have been SLEEPING on this man!! I’m now obsessed with Gally (I’ve never even seen TMR but I’ve now read a ton of FFs) and, of course, Adam. So, here’s a one-shot :)

I know that Peter gave Rocket his Zune but in this scenario he gave it to you, his other half-sister. You do have powers but they’re not really mentioned here; if anyone is interested I can make a sequel/prequel.

Part 0 , Part 2

The repairs to Knowhere were going well— or at least as well as could be expected with leaders who bickered as much as the remaining Guardians. Peter and Mantis had left the planet a few weeks ago, leaving everyone quite sad at their departure. But, there were things to do so those that remained moved on as best they could in order help out. You, however, as Peter’s half-sister, had been hit harder by their departures than the others. Mantis and Peter were the only family you had, especially since the group had killed your father (not that he’d been a good one, of course.) Sure, the other Guardians had become like family to you over the years, but they weren’t blood— but this is also the only reason why you decided to stay instead of going off on your own like your siblings.

To make matters worse, the only physical reminder that you had of your brother was his Zune, which he’d left to you since you’d always stolen it anyway. Almost every day since his departure you could be found with the Zune clipped to your belt with at least one— and often both— earbuds plugged in to drown out the world. You busied yourself with helping the rest of the population repair their homes, enjoying the physical work as it tired you out too much to think about your missing family. When you weren’t working, you were training, which is how you (more officially) met one of the newest members of the Guardians, Adam. It hadn’t been the best first meeting, but that was a story for another time.

You were grateful to him for saving your brother so after he apologized for almost killing you, you forgave him pretty easily. Since you wanted to fill up your free time as much as possible, you offered to help train him because although he had powers, he’d barely been a match for the Guardians during the initial fight. You became close because of this and you found that you enjoyed his myriad of questions. You made sure to always be patient when answering him since you knew that the other Guardians were either too busy or would snap at him.

However, that was about the only good thing that had happened to you since the defeat of the High Evolutionary. The only time you really saw Rocket, Groot, Drax or Nebula was when you helped out around the headquarters or went on a mission, and even that wasn’t the same as it used to be. Rocket was a very different leader than Peter; he was, well, smarter, so that was good, but he had yet to acquire any sort of nurturing or encouraging attitude. When they trained as a team to get used to each other (as they had also added Kraglin and Viola to the group), Rocket would veer towards critical rather than critiquing.

“No, on your left, you idiot! Your other left!”

“You call that aim? Blurp could hit the target better than you!”

And, lastly, “that’s not how Quill would do it!”

Ouch. That one was always aimed at you, for anything Rocket could criticize you for. It didn’t have to just be training; sometimes he took it to ridiculous levels, either for the music you selected or the food you cooked. Anything you did, he compared you to your brother. And of course, you loved Peter; along with the other Guardians, he had saved you and Mantis from Ego and for that alone you would love him, but he had left you terribly big shoes to fill and you weren’t even the leader. You tried to hide how much Rocket’s words affected you— usually by keeping your Zune close at hand to drown him out, but they did get you down.

Even worse was his nickname for you. Although it had once been endearing, “little Quill” now felt like more of an insult— as if he knew you could never measure up to Peter. You never confronted him about this since you knew Rocket had a barbed tongue, but after being abandoned by your siblings, his words seemed to hit you harder than before. So, you kept your distance from him as best you could and tolerated it when you couldn’t.

On this particular day, you had decided to make chocolate chip cookies, which Peter had taught you to make on the first ‘Christmas’ that you’d been with the Guardians. You were really missing your brother so you plugged in your earbuds and started on the familiar recipe. In this instance, the kitchen that you were using was communal, so it was no surprise that someone else walked in on you as you baked. You didn’t notice at first, too lost in the music of Bohemian Rhapsody.

Adam had come into the kitchen after following the sweet scent that had caught his attention. He smiled a little at the sight of you standing at the counter, elbow-deep in. . . something. It was golden in color, although lighter than his skin, and flecked with black. He waved to get your attention but as usual, you were oblivious to your surroundings (and you were a fighter?) so he made his way over to you and tapped you on the shoulder.

Feeling the presence of another person, you turned around to see who it was— if it was anyone worth talking to— and when you saw that it was the (literal) golden boy, you sent him a smile and pulled one earbud out of your ear. “Hey, Adam.”

“Hi,” he replied you, still a little uncertain with less formal greetings. “What are you making? It smells really good.”

“Chocolate chip cookies,” you said. “Peter taught me how to make them. Do you want to try some?”

He looked at what was in the bowl curiously. “What does it taste like?”

“It’s sweet. If you liked the smell I’m sure you’d like the taste. Watch,” you instructed. Then you carefully picked up a small bit that had a chocolate chip in it before you at it. You closed your eyes and hummed at the delicious flavor.

Adam copied your action carefully, even going so far as to close his eyes and make the same sound— and then he repeated it more genuinely as he realized how good it was. You grinned at his reaction. “You like it, huh?” When he nodded, you added, “want to help? I’m almost at the fun part!”

“What’s that?”

“It’s where we make the cookies— this is just the batter,” you explained.

After you both washed your hands, you showed him how to form the batter into matching spheres and line them up on the baking tray. As you worked, you talked about the music you were listening to and even transferred your spare earbud to him so Adam could listen as well. Bohemian Rhapsody had become Starless by the band King Crimson. . . and of their better-known members, Adam Belew. You couldn’t help but find it amusing that Adam had the same name, and that one of the lines was “sundown dazzling day/gold through my eyes.”

As he finished forming one of the last cookies, Adam glanced up to see the hint of laughter in your expression. Although he didn’t know what was funny, he smiled back at you. For some reason that he didn’t understand, he was happy that you were happy; it was an emotion that you didn’t really seem to show that often, so the rare chance that he got to see it only made it more special. Your grin widened at you leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially: “now comes the fun part!”

He frowned with confusion. “I thought making the. . . cookies was the fun part,” he said slowly, trying out the new word.

“Sort of, but everyone knows the fun part is licking the bowl!” you exclaimed happily. “Like this.” You scraped some of the remaining batter together until it was big enough to eat before you popped it into your mouth. Together you made quick work of the remaining batter and then you put the bowl in the sink. You’d started the oven earlier, so it was ready for the tray.

After setting the timer, you made a face. “Now it’s time for the worst part: doing the dishes. Peter hated doing them so much that we usually just put them in the contamination chamber and chucked them out to space,” you explained with a giggle. “If anyone asked why we had to buy so many new dishes we just said that Peter was really clumsy.” You finished the story with a wistful look, remembering all the fun that you and your siblings had had before the Snap had ruined everything.

Adam wasn’t sure if doing the dishes was really that bad, but the happiness that had been present while making the cookies had slipped off your face, so he figured that it must be an arduous task. Wanting to spare you the discomfort, he offered: “I can do them, if you want. You did most of the work anyway.”

His suggestion pulled you back to the present and you shook your head. “You don’t have to. Since this is your first time having cookies you can just enjoy them. Next time you have to help,” you added playfully, covering up your sadness as you always did with humor— you learned that from your brother, after all.

The golden boy allowed a small smile at that, although he’d picked up on your habit. “I can wash and you can dry?”

You agreed, and soon the task was done. While you waited for the cookies to be finished you answered a few more of Adam’s questions. You found his curiosity refreshing after spending so much time with smart-ass, know-it-all teammates that wouldn’t know how to ask question if it slapped them in their face. (And yes, you did love your teammates— that’s why you could call them out on their stubbornness.)

The cookies were done about fifteen minutes later and you took them out to cool for another ten before you took one for yourself and one for Adam. You sat down next to him and bit into the warm dessert, closing your eyes again to enjoy it. As much as you liked the batter, the finished cookie was definitely better. Adam seemed to agree as he made the same sound of enjoyment from before, causing you to open your eyes and grin at him. “Good, huh?”

“Definitely,” he agreed, and he was finished with his cookie before you were done with yours.

You saw him eye the tray greedily, which caused you to laugh. “Go ahead, you can have another one.”

As he did so, the other members of the Guardians entered the room, apparently drawn by the same scent that Adam had smelled. Kraglin took his with a nod of thanks, stuffing one in his mouth as he left the room. Viola took one as curiously as Adam had, seeing as she’d never had a cookie either.

“You can take some to the other kids,” you told her— you’d made a double batch since they were pretty popular, so there was plenty. She thanked you as well and took some extra for her friends.

Then, it was Rocket’s turn. After the rest of his reactions to whatever you did, you found yourself holding your breath as you waited for his opinion. It only took a moment before he pronounced: “not bad, Little Quill.” You perked up at that, eyes wide with hope that you had finally done something right— something that Peter couldn’t do better than you. But Rocket wasn’t done: “not like Quill’s, though.”

You slumped in your chair as he took a few extra, oblivious to the effect his words had on you— but Adam noticed. “I think hers are better than Peter’s,” he spoke up quietly.

“Sure, blondie. You ain’t never tried Quill’s though, so ya don’t have a comparison.”

“I don’t need to,” he insisted, glancing over at you. “I know they’re better.”

Rocket scoffed with disbelief but didn’t bother arguing the point (he knew he was right, anyway), and left the room without so much as a thank you. Adam glanced over at your defeated posture; you’d been so confident and happy moments before the other Guardians had come in, but now you seemed to shrink into yourself, as if Rocket’s careless words had physically hurt you. Normally your recovery time after such an incident would be fast so no one else could pick up on your feelings, but this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back— if you couldn’t do cookies right, what hope did you have for anything else?

You suddenly felt a warm hand settle on top yours, which had been resting on the counter. You looked up sharply, surprised by the touch— you hadn’t been so much as hugged since Peter and Mantis had left. Adam’s expression was sympathetic, but there was a hint of anger in his golden eyes. “You’re not like Quill,” he said.

Unfortunately, you mistook his words after being so used to Rocket’s insults and looked away. You’d expected this sort of thing from him, not from Adam, and the blow hit you harder than anything Rocket had ever said. “I know,” you snapped, taking your hand away from his. “Thanks for the reminder.”

He gave you a confused look since he wasn’t sure what chord he’d struck to cause your reaction. It dawned on him quickly how his words could have been interpreted and he gently took your hand again as he repeated more firmly: “you’re not like Quill. You’re. . . there isn’t anything to compare. You’re not your brother— Rocket shouldn’t expect the same things from you that he did for Peter.” He hesitated for only moment before he added, “I can. . . talk to him, if you want.”

As he’d spoken, you realized you’d made a mistake and your initial thoughts had been right: Adam wouldn’t use your brother against you. You felt guilty for jumping to conclusions and gave him an apologetic look. Then, his words really sank in; a statement about how special your uniqueness was from someone whose society was literally carbon copies made your face heat up at the impact of his sentiment. You found that you couldn’t look him in the eyes and lowered your gaze to your still-connected hands. “I— thank you,” you said softly. “I just wish Rocket would see that. You don’t have to talk to him— I should be able to do that myself; I’ve been his teammate for longer, after all. But. . . I really appreciate it.”

His expression softened as he squeezed your hand, which inexplicably made your stomach roll nauseously (but in a good way, like when Peter would do loop-the-loops with Milano’s pod.) “Anytime, Little Quill.”

And just like that, “little Quill” went right back to being an endearing nickname.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x y/n #adam warlock x you #will poulter x reader #will poulter #marvel x reader #will poulter imagine #gotg imagine #gotg v3 #guardians of the galaxy #adam warlock imagine #mcu fic #mcu x reader #adam warlock fluff #adam warlock fanfiction

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musings-of-a-rose · 11 months ago

Text

All of You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)

Word Count: 2900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I’m not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)? Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol

Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery.

I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case.

Sexy would not begin to describe this man.

“Are those coyotas?”

I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms.

“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes.

“Could I have a few?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up.

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”

I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it.

“Would you like a cup?”

“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. How do you like it?”

“Plain?”

I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us.

“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”

“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”

I nod. “And you are?”

“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”

I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no. Not..hurting.”

He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.

“Wait. I haven’t paid.”

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“No. You deserve payment.”

“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding.

“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks.

Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man.

So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee.

But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order.

“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks.

“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”

The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus.

“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”

“I..me?”

“You close early enough?”

I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.

“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”

He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”

I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?

Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there.

Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?

“Pastelito?”

I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look.

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”

“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.”

I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away.

One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it.

“Javier?”

His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”

Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”

“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.

“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.

“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”

I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?

“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”

“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”

We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.

10 years later…

Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement.

“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”

“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.

I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.

“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer.

“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”

“Neither am I, Javi.”

“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity.

“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin.

“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy.

“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later.

His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm.

“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.

I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”

He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name.

“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”

His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”

“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.

“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”

I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.

“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly.

I nod. “Oh yes.”

His eyes darken. “Then show me.”

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wordsofelie · 29 days ago

Text

Chapter 7

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Mention of Sex Scenes (No Description)

Words count: 5.4k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 8

“How’s Tokyo?”

It’s only a few words, barely a full sentence. However, it took Osamu a whole fifteen minutes to write and almost a face-first collision with the glass door of Tokozu, his favourite kitchen knife store in Osaka. The man found the exercise harder than any literature essay he ever had to do in high school (and Osamu, despite being named after a famous novelist, was never fond of literature). But now, the message is sent and there’s no going back.

His meditation instructor as well as one red-haired hitter, told him he should stop overthinking, and for the last month, Osamu thinks he did a good job at calming his stormy mind. But it’s different now, you’ve been in Tokyo for three days (or what feels like six months, at least to him), and apart from the message to ask you if you arrived safely (which you did), Osamu hasn’t contacted you in 72h. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but he just needs to give space. He told you how he feels, exposed his fragile heart to you, and now what you do with it is your decision and yours only.

Still, Osamu wants to act casual like before (and also shows that he cares), something he hasn’t been good at for the past months. You miss the old Osamu, the friend you could always rely on, the one who wouldn’t mind letting food burn on the stove if you needed him. Maybe it’s time for that man to come back.

Thus, this morning, as he strolls through the streets of Osaka, heading to the store, he sends you those few words.

“Good morning, Sir,” a forty-year-old something greets him when he enters. “May I help you with something?”

Osamu’s eyes wander all around the shelves before describing what he is looking for.

“There’s a couple of knives that could meet your requirements.” The man starts showing him various options when Osamu’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

It’s you.

The younger man excuses himself and runs towards the exit. He waits two or three rings before answering.

“Hey,” he says, clearing his throat.

“Osamu,” you tell his name, his heart skips a beat (or a thousand). “How are you? Is this a good time to call?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I was just in town to buy a new knife for the fish.”

“Oh, maybe I should call later then-”

“No!” He cuts you off, someone passing by is startled by his sudden outburst. He avoids their gaze, “It’s fine now. So… how have ya been?”

“I’m great,” you reply, and he can hear the excitement in your voice, “I love it here. The JVA offices are in that huge building in Omiya, and everyone is wearing suits and there’s even a bakery on the ground floor, so I usually take something there and go to the park. I can’t wait for the cherry blossoms to bloom, it’s gonna be beautiful. And I need to take you to the bakery, you’d love the cannelés.”

Osamu holds back his laughter at your French accent, cute, he thinks.

“There’s already a communication team,” you continue, “everyone is so kind and to be able to discuss my ideas with everyone is such a cool thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love working with the Jackals but…well, the guys aren’t the best at giving advice when it comes to their social media. Except for your brother, actually.”

“I’m glad,” Osamu says with a soft voice.

“And Kuroo is amazing to work with and he’s actually kinda funny sometimes, but he has that weird laugh-anyway, I think he likes my work… But that doesn’t mean he's going to keep me on after my trial period.”

Osamu is relieved, happy even, that you’re enjoying your life there, but when he is about to express it, the words get stuck in his throat and no sound leaves his lips.

There’s a silence following your story, and you’re the one who breaks it. “I’m coming back in two days.”

“And I’ll be there.”

“Also… in three weeks or something, the National Team is having their last public practice match before the Olympics and it’s in Osaka, are you going to install a stall at the gym?”

“Yeah, I will. Ya know how the guys will react if I don’t.”

You chuckle, probably picturing some very disappointed—and hungry— Atsumu, Bokuto and Hinata (and Meian, though he’d tried to keep a straight face since he has the role of captain to uphold). “Cool, then, I’ll be there.”

“That’s my line.”

You offer him a genuine laugh and a warm feeling spreads through his stomach, which stays even after the call ends.

Two more days. Osamu counts in his head.

He takes a deep breath and enters the shop for the second time, this time being careful with not banging his face into the glass door.

“Can’t ya just stop movin’, please?” Atsumu begs and a sound comes out of his throat, something between a sigh and a groan.

But his demand doesn’t seem to reach his brother’s ears—even though he said “please”, ‘Samu, ya spoiled brat—as said brother continues to pace like a caged animal in their cramped living room.

“I’m goin’ now.” Osamu finally announces.

“Gosh,” The setter rolls his eyes, “her train arrives in two hours.”

“What if there’s traffic on the way?”

“Ya know what? Just leave, yer so damn annoyin’ right now.”

“Moron,” Osamu exclaims, slamming the door on its way out.

It’s too late for Atsumu to say more than just an offended, “Oi!” since his twin already left the apartment.

There’s no traffic on the way and Osamu is forced to wait for you—though it doesn’t matter how long he must wait; if he had to endure a lifetime of longing just to see you again, he would agree in a blink of an eye.

The only bad thing is that time passes very slowly, and it makes him think over and over again about what might happen.

And the conclusion he comes up with is that two paths are unfolding before him: whether the kiss you shared on the doorframe of your apartment is the last remnant of what could have been, or perhaps the first tender step toward something beautiful. Maybe in a few minutes, he’ll have to pretend nothing happened and go back to being friends or stop hiding his feelings and share them with the world.

When you emerge from the station, your blue scarf sticking out of your bag since the weather has warmed up delicately in the last five days, Osamu feels the rhythm of his heart quickening.

You greet each other, get back in the car, and he starts driving.

One second after the other, even though you’re there now, he keeps waiting.

The silence is heavy but somehow it doesn’t cloud his thoughts. Osamu could be analysing each single one of your moves (you scratch your nails, you keep looking at your phone even if you don’t receive any notification), your expressions (you didn’t meet his eyes when you arrived, your smile is tense), but he doesn’t because he has learned better than to attempt to assume how you feel; it only leads to chaos. The man has no control over this situation and whatever happens, he’ll accept it. Nothing matters more than yielding to your choices. Break his heart, move to Tokyo, sever ties forever (please don’t)—he’ll endure it all if it means your happiness.

“Thank you for coming.” You finally say gently.

“Sure.” He waits and after a moment of hesitation, adds, “Ya know… I’ve been waitin’ to see ya.”

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches just long enough to create a knot in his chest.

“You have?” You ask, your voice quiet, unsure.

“Yeah,” he admits, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. If you’re about to turn him down, at least, he needs to be honest one more time. “Been thinkin' about ya all day. All week, actually.”

He laughs, a bit too awkwardly, trying to play it off. “Can I say that? Don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable but I guess I’m just really bad at actin' casual, huh?”

Your soft chuckle makes his heart race all over again. “Not as bad as you think, Osamu. I’m happy if we can talk openly to each other without being afraid of what the other thinks. That’s what we used to do.” You clear your throat, “And actually, there’s something I need to tell you.”

There it is, he thinks, the opening he’s been waiting for. He decides to pull over to the side of the road since you almost made it to your place. He licks his lips nervously before turning to you, your eyes don’t meet his when you speak again.

“So… I’ve been thinking. I wanted to have that conversation with you later, not in the car like that, but like you said, it’s hard to act casual…Listen, Osamu.” You finally turn to your right, to him.

Osamu thought he could know how you’re feeling just by seeing the look on your face but right now he is unsure. It’s exciting to know there’s still so much to learn about you, but also threatening because he can’t anticipate your next words and it’s suffocating.

“You’re the kindest person I know, you’re funny and you’re reliable and there’s no one in this entire world, and please don’t tell Umi, with whom I feel so at ease. I’ve never really been into stuff like soulmates you know, even with Rin, I believed he was the love of my life, and it turned out I was wrong. But with you it’s different, it’s like the universe has led me to you. That fact will never change, whatever we … become.” Your voice falters, “But… I made so many sacrifices for Rin, and I don’t regret them, they made me who I am now, but I promised myself I would never do such things again… Yet, I was in my hotel room in Tokyo, finally finding my dream job and loving the team, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how I wanted to be with you in Osaka, how I wanted to kiss you again… I feel so weak Osamu ‘cause I love you too. I do want us to be together but not like that. I can’t miss this opportunity. If I stay in Osaka, I will resent myself for not choosing my dream and if I leave for Tokyo, I know I’ll regret not being with you… But I have to make a choice.”

“Can’t ya have both? Me and Tokyo?”

You sigh before looking down at your lap. Osamu thinks he saw your eyes getting wet, “I wish I could, but you know how I feel about distance relationships.”

Of course, he knows; he was there when you suffered through the distance that separated you from your first love years ago and how it led to a heartbreak.

“What if I come with y-”

“Don’t even think about it, Osamu. I am not following my dream for you to give up yours.” Your voice is firm, but there’s a hint of pain behind your words. “I swear I thought about all the options because I know you’re right for me… but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Osamu was convinced there were only two paths, one where you love him, one where you don’t. But what if there is a third option? What if you love him but fear getting hurt?

It’s not that she doesn’t like you, she’s just afraid, Umi told him. He recalls precisely the moment your best friend pronounced those words to him.

There’s hope. Osamu has to hold on to it.

“Give me one month.”

“Huh?” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“I’ll find a solution, I’ll make it work, I promise.”

“Osamu,” you sigh again, this time it sounds desperate, perhaps frustrated, “this is not some sort of romantic movie, this is real life.”

“I know that, and I’ll find a real solution.”

“What if you don’t find the solution after that month? I know how heartbreaks feel like Osamu, this is only going to hurt you and-”

“Nothing can hurt me more than runnin’ away when I could have tried making it work.”

There’s something in your eyes that shines behind your closed face and clenched jaw.

The atmosphere changes in the car, maybe because of the night falling, or maybe because of something else.

“When we were first years, we weren’t in the same class, but at the sports festival, we were put on the same team for the relay.” You start recalling, the sudden shift in topic catches him off guard, but he lets you continue anyway.

“Umi wasn’t in my team, and I was already not motivated to run the race, especially in front of everyone but it got worse when I was put before you. Can you imagine me, giving the stick to Miya Osamu? You were popular, girls loved you, boys admired you, and I was no one. Sure, I could run fast but I didn’t care about winning that damn event. I guess… the only things I cared about were having Rin looking at me and not tripping in front of your fangirls. But on the day of the festivals, do you remember what you told me?”

He shakes his head. You were always better at remembering stuff.

“You said ‘Trust me, just do your thing and I’ll make it work’. I trusted you; I did what I had to do, and we won.”

You cover your face with your hands abruptly and grumble, “Fuck, I really thought I made up my mind but…” Then, you take a long inspiration before looking at him again. Your eyes pierce his soul, find him where he is the most vulnerable, but also the most in love, “If I trust you one more time… Can you promise you’ll not let me down?”

“I’d do anything for ya to give me a chance.”

He says your name as he promises. There’s something obvious in your eyes when you look at each other, it’s not just hope that Osamu feels, it’s certain and deep. As if nothing could come between you.

You break the distance.

The kiss is softer than the last one. Osamu tries to take his time to appreciate the taste of your lips and the feeling your tongue leaves on his.

No need to rush, he knows it’s the first kiss of a long series (whether it lasts a month or a hundred years).

You pull back with a smile, “Oh, by the way, I have not forgotten that you owe me an explanation for all the times you ignore me. And you better hear what I have to say to you on that matter because you sure hurt me. It might take hours for me to tell you how bad you made me feel.”

“And I’d listen for hours.”

“You’re such a smooth talker.” You chuckle and open the passenger door, “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow ‘Samu.”

“Huh?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what my brother calls me, can’t ya find something else like my lov-”

“Shut up you idiot, I’m not ready for that yet.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll submit.” He teases and his grin is both sincere and charming, it makes you lift your eyes in the air.

You laugh one more time before getting out, “sweet dreams.”

He bids you goodnight in return.

Things go well.

You try to see each other often. Now that Osamu has his Sundays free, he makes the most of them to take you on dates. In the evening, you cook dinner at home and in the morning, you stop by Onigiri Miya to get the bento he prepared for you. You always thank him with a kiss on the lips, a caress on the cheeks and sometimes the make out session gets a little bit out of hand. One day, despite your complaints about how you might get caught, Osamu doesn’t stop until Sato and Nagisa enter the shop (“Oops, didn’t mean to interrupt”, one of them say and Osamu tells you later how they kept on teasing him all day long. “It’s only yer fault though”, he exclaims, “yer too pretty.” And you push him on the chest, your cheeks turning red and your smile wide.)

You receive an email from Kuroo one Tuesday night, with a contract attached to it, waiting to be filled with your signature.

It’s hard to hide your smile, “I got the job.”

Osamu jumps from his chair to yours and kisses you, “I expected no less from my Champion.”

You open your mouth to say something and your boyfriend notices how your bite your lips. The long-distance relationship is starting now, that’s probably what you’re about to say, but Osamu doesn’t want to lose this moment thinking about what’s coming after, so he goes through your kitchen’s cupboards and gets a bottle of sake.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“We have somethin’ to celebrate, don’t we?” His boyish smile makes your heart melt, and you nod.

“Let’s go to Tokyo tomorrow to look for an apartment.” He proposes later.

Your brows knit together, “but your restaurant…”

“I can close it.”

Osamu looks at you with the determined eyes you thought he had lost. It’s confident and calm at the same time, it’s kind, and so particularly him. It’s the same look he had when you won the relay a decade ago, when he told you he got your back during your heartbreak, and when he swore he’d do anything to be with you.

This time, you're the one who kisses him, and you taste of sake. His hands find the skin of your lower back and the man wonders how he could have missed out on something so soft all these years. Maybe it’s the alcohol but his mind becomes intoxicated, still, it feels good, and the next second he lifts you to lead you to the bedroom.

The next morning, your head hurts—and so do your muscles—but Osamu makes sure to cover every inch of your body with kisses as an apology (to which you don’t complain).

Finding an apartment in Tokyo is a drag at first. Between the too high-priced single-rooms and the over-demanding landlords, your energy is drained at the end of the day.

“I’ll never be able to find something…” You whine.

“Hey,” Osamu flicks your forehead lightly, “don’t say that it’s only the first day. Let’s find an hotel for tonight and we'll continue tomorrow.”

“What about Onigiri Miya?”

“Sato and Nagisa can manage.”

“Thank you, Osamu, you’re the best. Oh, what’s Sato’s first name by the way?”

“I forgot,” Osamu gets up from the bench where you were both sat and starts walking. You don’t ask for more.

Eventually, Osamu gets back to Osaka the next day because “Osamu-san, we’re running out of spicy sauce, what’s the recipe again? I tried something but it tastes like-”, “Like shit.”, “Oi! Rin don’t say that.” And even though he loves helping you, he must admit he misses being in the kitchen.

Your apartment hunt ends up with a last-minute offer for a one-bedroom place near your office and with a view on the park.

“Yer kitchen is better than mine,” Osamu clicks his tongue.

“That gives you a good reason to come visit me.”

“I’m thinkin’ about more than just one reason to visit ya.”

“You pervert,” you tease, and he tries to defend himself, but it’s probably a lost cause, for deep down, Osamu knows you’re right.

So yes, three weeks pass, and things go pretty well between you two.

It's been a week since he last saw you, though you FaceTime every evening—both to tell him about your day and to show him the first pieces of decoration you've put up; a few flowerpots, two cups on the counter (one for him, one for you), and a framed picture of you and Umi.

And today is the National Team last public practice match, so it means Osamu gets to finally see you in person (yesss, he mumbles when rolls out of bed at dawn.)

The match starts at 1 p.m., the crowd is expected at noon, and Osamu spends the late morning setting up his onigiri stall in the gym’s hall. His hands move automatically as he arranges the ingredients and checks his prep. He tries to focus on his routine because his mind is far from calm. Sure, he is happy to see you but he knows you’re also waiting for the “real solution” to overcome the distance. But Osamu hasn’t found it yet, not even when you packed your bags and moved in Tokyo officially.Time is running out.

Nagisa probably noticed the somehow stressed mood of his boss and finds himself even more careful than he usual is.

“Can I have one… Ginger chicken onigiri please?”

Nagisa greets you respectfully and Osamu immediately turns to where you stand with widen eyes as if he wasn’t expecting you.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey.” He replies back and the man has to fight the stupid grin tugging at his lips. “Just give me a second.”

Osamu hands you your order, “Enjoy.”

“Those are new, huh?”

“Yeah, for the Spring Menu.” He explains, trying to keep his cool, but his smile sneaks through.

“I can’t wait to try then,” You smile back, your eyes meeting his. He could stand there all day, just soaking in this moment. But he’s working and you have a volleyball match to attend.

“Well, I’m gonna join Kita-san now. And also-” you glance behind you at the growing line. “Don’t wanna hold up the queue.”

Before he can even think of a reply, you wave and step away. He watches as you walk toward where Kita is waiting and both disappear in the stands. His heart warms at the sight.

The hours pass as the match begins, Osamu and Nagisa catch glimpses of the game through the screens scattered around the hall. Atsumu starts the first set, naturally, and Osamu can't help but grumble to himself when his brother is swapped out for Kageyama in the second. By the time his twin closes the final set with a signature service ace, Osamu rolls his eyes, already dreading the inevitable rambling about it later tonight.

“Atsumu-san is amazing,” Nagisa says and his eyes shine at the screen.

“Well, keep that for yerself please.” Osamu straightens up and starts packing up his stall.

The crowd begins to disperse, he can hear it from a distance. He’s just about ready to close up when a familiar face appears, slightly out of breath.

“Are you still open?” one Akaashi Keiji says with a sheepish smile.

Osamu simply remarks that he’s always open for his best client, and it makes Akaashi even more embarrassed. “That’s very considerate of you Miya-san. Sorry I didn’t come by earlier. I arrived late.”

“No problem,” Osamu replies, handing him his usual set of onigiri. “Yer favorite as always.”

Akaashi accepts the food, then hesitates before speaking. “There’s a new onigiri shop near my workplace, you know. I gave it a try, but... well, they don’t come close to yours.”

Osamu chuckles. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“But don’t worry, Miya-san,” Akaashi continues, putting his glasses back on, “I’m not going to try to convince you to open a shop in Tokyo this time. I learned my lesson. Besides, you’re probably already too busy with your current restaurant.”

Osamu opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out of it. Instead, his mind goes blank, and a cloud makes his brain unable to think. But not in an oppressive way, no, this time the cloud is light and pleasant.

Something seems to click inside him, as if a thought that has been buried suddenly rises to the surface. He’s always brushed off the idea of expanding, but now... maybe it’s time to stop putting things aside. His decision comes in a flash, and before he can second-guess it, he’s calling out to his part-time employee.

“Hey, Nagisa! Can ya finish up closin’ the stall? I gotta go.”

Without waiting for an answer, Osamu takes off, scanning the crowd for you. He spots you near the exit, chatting with a few familiar faces. His heart beats faster as he approaches.

He says your name, “Can we talk?”

You raise an eyebrow, but you nod, leading him to a quieter spot—the room where you used to work as the Jackals’ communication manager.

“So,” you begin, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. “What’s going on?”

Osamu takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinkin’... ‘bout how I can make this work.”

“Make what work?”

“Us.” The word feels huge, but it’s the only thing that matters right now. “I’ve decided... I’m gonna open a shop in Tokyo.”

Your eyes widen, clearly taken aback. “Wait, what?”

“I’ll expand,” Osamu says, his voice is firm. “I’ll open a shop in Tokyo, so we don’t have to do this long-distance thing. I want to be with ya. There are a lot of things I need to think about like findin’ the right place and hirin’ new people, it might take a little bit of time but I have the cash, and I know it’s gonna be alright. Can ya trust me on this?”

The last question is said with more softness, maybe with a bit of fear. But there’s still this determination in his eyes that you love so much.

You seem to process his words for a moment, and he holds his breath, waiting for your reaction. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face. Without warning, you throw your arms around him, and he catches you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Of course, I trust you,” you whisper against his shoulder and Osamu feels a shiver running down his spine.

“Honestly…” he speaks again, “I’m already pretty busy with the restaurant but maybe it’s time for the business to grow.”

“And I’ll be here for you. We’ll go through this together.”

Just as you’re about to kiss—something Osamu has been craving since you entered the venue—the door swings open.

Bokuto’s loud voice fills the room with your name, and both of you jump apart, startled.

“What-what’s going on here?” The outside hitter blurts out. His expression is one of shock, like a child who just caught their parents placing presents under the tree instead of Santa Claus.

“Are-are you…?” He points his finger at you, one after the other.

“We’re datin’.” Osamu replies first.

“But we want to keep it quiet for now,” you add, not noticing how Osamu’s brows furrow. Had ya mentioned this before? he wonders but keeps the question to himself. After all, it’s fine—it’s not like he was planning on going all loud and proud about your relationship like his brother would. Still, the thought lingers.

Bokuto grins, clapping his hands together. You’re both surprised by the change in his attitude (even though you should be used to Bokuto’s moody antics by now). “About time! Anyway, the team’s going out for drinks. You guys coming?”

You both nod. Once Bokuto disappears, you sneak a small kiss on the corner of his lips before opening the door again. He holds back a frustrated grunt—he wanted more, but who can blame him? After all, he’s a Miya; aiming for more is in his genes.

You find yourself sitting between your boyfriend and Bokuto in a busy izakaya. The room is loud, and it smells like fried meat and beers. For once, you're not the only girl at the table since some of the players' partners are here too. Osamu’s eyes keep drifting back to you, even while Komori is recounting some ridiculous story about how he saved Kiyoomi’s life when they were kids—which the younger cousin firmly denies. He listens, nodding politely, but his gaze betrays him as it keeps landing on you. You’re engaged in a conversation with Meian's fiancée, something about her upcoming wedding as Osamu picks up some words related to that topic.

“Oi, listen up!” Atsumu calls once all the drinks are served. He raises his glass. The chatter dies down, and all eyes turn to him. “First of all, congrats to the team on today's win. We smashed it, boys. Let’s keep it goin’, and we’ll do even better at the Olympics!” A round of cheers follows, glasses clinking together.

“And second, let’s give a round of applause to Shoyo-kun, who’s just signed a contract with Asas São Paulo! - Is that how ya say it? Anyway, I’m gonna miss settin’ to ya man, but ya truly deserve it.” Hinata grins, showing all his teeth, and rubs the back of his head as he thanks everyone.

“And finally,” Atsumu pauses dramatically and smirks, “I gotta congratulate Tobio-kun for his solid performance in the second set... even though I’m the one who finished the game off with that perfect serve.”

Kageyama, ever stoic, only bows his head slightly and mutters some “Thank you.”

Aran turns to Osamu, “Will yer brother ever be humble?”, his tone is both desperate and exasperated.

The older twin hears the remark and starts justifying his words, but it only creates a ripple of laughter all around the table.

Bokuto suddenly stands up, taking Atsumu’s role, with an unexpected serious face. “I’ve got something to say too,” he begins and raises his glass in your direction, before saying your name. “I wanna thank you for all the work you’ve done managing our social media for almost a year. You really helped us connect with our fans, and I just-”

Akaashi, sitting to Osamu’s right, leans over and whispers to your boyfriend, “But Kuroo-san told me she’s still managing the Jackals' social media, even if it’s not her main focus anymore.”

“I will.” You announce, high enough for Koutarou to hear. “I’m not completely leaving the Jackals.”

Sakusa sighs heavily. “We already know that. Bokuto’s just being dense as usual,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Wait, you’re not leaving us?” Bokuto asks and his large amber eyes get glassy.

“No, I’ll still be around. I’ll be based in Tokyo most of the time, but I’ll come by every couple of months.” You smile at him gently.

Bokuto grins before sitting down with a long sigh of relief.

The next minute, he turns to you and Osamu. His eyes scan around and he drops his voice to a whisper, “So... you’ll be in a long-distance relationship?”

From under the table, Osamu squeezes your hand, and you return the gesture with a soft smile.

“Actually... I’ve been thinkin’ about openin’ a shop in Tokyo. It’s still just an idea, though, so let’s keep it between us for now.”

“Dude, that’s another secret I have to keep! But you can count on me.” He takes a sip of beer before adding, “Oh and I’m happy for you two.”

Osamu intertwines his fingers with yours, for the first time in a while it feels like everything is falling into place. As if he can finally exhale after holding his breath for so long, because nothing can come between you now.

He glances at you; you’re absolutely beautiful. It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you appear in his eyes. There’s so much he wishes to tell you right now, so many more touches he wants to share. The desire to be selfish takes over and he leans in. As he parts his lips to whisper that he loves you, Atsumu shouts.

“SUNARIN! So cool you made it!’

You drop his hand in a sharp, almost reflexive move.

Your knees no longer touch each other, a thin void is left where your shoulder was resting.

Suna strides into the izakaya. Osamu can’t help but look at you, as his former teammate approaches to greet everyone. You’re clearly troubled by the situation, and after all, it’s only normal. What Osamu doesn’t like though, is how your gaze is glued to your ex now and how all your attention is directed towards the middle blocker, instead of him.

He feels his lungs get smashed all over again.

Because just when he thought everything was finally settling, it hits him that perhaps, there’s still one more obstacle to overcome.

author notes: i hope you love roller coasters haha

i really enjoyed introducing new characters from haikyuu even though it's only for a small part of the chapter

did you guys love this chapter? (only 1 left btw)

sorry for the delay againnn

lots of love

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt, @iluv-ace, @cinnamonruts

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 7 months ago

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[Not] Guilty Part 2

Part 1

A few people expressed interest in this becoming a series. I had a storyline for it when I made the first ‘chapter’. I do warn you guys though I will probably be slow to post. I have a hard time when I feel like I have to write the next chapter of something. Not to mention I am currently packing (and procrastinating packing by writing) to move from Michigan to Tennessee for my new post-grad job!

This is not a spoiler because I hinted heavily (told you really) at it at the end of the first chapter, but I did want to warn everyone- this has the ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY TROPE. For those of you who do not like those stories, you have been warned. The case is mentioned in this story but is not its main focus, but what will become of the reader and Sonny’s relationship. (I may change the name because it implies otherwise.)

Warnings- mentions of sex abuse, physical abuse, prison violence, suicide and accidental pregnancy trope (just in case you missed it ^)

Thank you for reading that really long author's note <3

The breakup should be harder on you. It was the longest relationship you had been in. The nervousness you had felt when you had crept up to the six-month marker and the kiss of death to every relationship you had ever had. It had come in like a lion, with you causing fights waiting for the inevitable, and out like a lamb when Sonny realized what the problem was. He had maturely communicated that he had no intent in letting you go. It had been smooth sailing for the most part after that. The relief you had felt when it all just seemed to work out. You guys were just a few weeks away from the year mark.

The end was as abrupt as your cousin Randy’s arrest. The betrayal of Sonny going after him without any regard to you. Then the attempted railroading from him to you of Randy’s guilt. The whole thing had left you cold and numb.

You knew Dominick Carisi was a good lawyer and now he could be the one to put Randy away for life. On a charge you were sure he didn’t commit. You hadn’t seen him much since the day you refused to let him into your apartment. You only saw him during court proceedings or meetings with him and Randy’s defense lawyer. Not that he hadn’t tried. He had called, texted, and stopped by your apartment frequently during the first few weeks. You were sure he thought that you were just overacting and that you would come to see the light of your cousin’s misdoings. Process and then accept what was going on. The only difference was you knew deep in your soul that your cousin wasn’t guilty. You wouldn't let anyone railroad you into thinking anything differently.

Not even a man you loved.

You had been actively avoiding him and any emotion that he provoked. You tried to ignore that you were a hot mess. The stress and emotional strain caused constant fatigue and churning in your stomach which had a tendency to make you sick. You had been trying to take care of everything for the case and still work overtime to continue paying your bills and for Randy’s pricy lawyer. You had even tried to get the money to bail Randy out, but Sonny had asked for an outrageous bond that even combined your working-class family couldn’t afford. You had tried to make up for it by putting money in his commissary and visiting once a week. Randy assured you he was okay, but it didn’t help make you feel better. Especially, when you saw the black eye and cut lip on your last visit.

Today was court and it was Randy’s turn to testify. You sat there in support of him and tried not to wince or shift uncomfortably as years of family secrets were let loose in open court. It was to help show Randy’s character the lawyer had explained. It was smart but you didn’t have to like listening to it.

Randy testified to his mental health issues. His bipolar that left him manic and on top of the world one day and then so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed the next. He went on to talk about the sexual and physical abuse he had received at the hands of his own father. How he had used substance to numb himself. He was in tears when he talked about how he could never hurt someone like he had been hurt. He would rather put a bullet in his head.

He had tried to skirt around the question about his uncle. But when he was pressed, he talked about how he had witnessed the brutal murder of his father at his uncle's hands when he had found out and then watched his uncle be arrested and put in prison. How he had been put on multiple 72-hour psych holds in the years following. Listening to it all was hard and made you want to curl up in a corner and sob. It was heartbreaking to listen to. Randy looked and sounded believable- like a victim himself who deserved empathy.

Sonny turned in his seat to look at you. You were only able to maintain eye contact for only a few seconds. It had been long enough to see the understanding in his eyes. The almost audible clicking of all the puzzle pieces of your life that you dodged around or refused to talk about when you were together were finally coming together for him. You could also see the frustration at you not being honest with him and him being blindsided in open court.

When recess was called until Monday you had to keep yourself from running out of the courthouse and instead force yourself to walk at a normal pace. You couldn’t face any of the SVU detectives that you were once close to. You hear your name called and your body freezes without your permission. A Staten Island accent thickened with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You can’t even turn back to look at him. You feel exhausted as you say. “You didn’t want to listen.”

≪ °❈° ≫

You return to court four days later, and there is something strange brewing in the courtroom. You can feel it in the air. You can see it. There is no jury and the courtroom is empty. The rest happens in a blur. ADA Dominick Carisi stands up and tells the judge they had found further evidence over the weekend and they wanted to drop all charges, except for possession. They offered a deal on time served. You felt the tears rush down your face in disbelief.

You find yourself in the hallway and a hand touches your shoulder from behind. You turn around to see Olivia Benson. “For what it is worth, I’m sorry.” Her face is sincere but all you could hear in your mind was the echoing of her words to you of his guilt and how it was normal to be in denial. It could take a while for your mind to be able to comprehend that someone you know, and love is capable of such malicious intent. “For all the trouble and for all this has cost you.” Even in your haze, you knew she wasn’t talking about the money you had put into Randy’s defense. “With his DNA in her apartment and on that blunt we really thought-”

“Sharing weed with a woman doesn’t mean you're going to rape and kill her.” Your words are bitter and distant even to your own ears.

“Of course not,” Olivia paused gathering her thoughts.

“What happened? What did you guys find?”

“Well, we went back over the timeline. We had a hard time believing Randy because when we interviewed him, he didn’t even know where he had been for most of the night.” You knew he had been hopped up on some pretty strong stuff that night. “Do you know the cemetery a couple of blocks from where we arrested him?” You felt like a bolt of lightning had struck through you. You did in fact know it. It was where his older brother had been buried after he committed suicide at twenty. “There was a security camera there that had been installed because of some teenager destroying headstones. It shows Randy there hours before Mary Moore’s death to hours after it. He slept there all night actually.”

You huff out a laugh. Thomas was Randy’s older brother by almost ten years. He, out of the three sons, had taken the worst of the abuse from their father. He had protected Randy and the youngest David until the moment he had ended it all, but it seemed even death couldn’t stop him from protecting his younger brother.

You see Randy getting released, a bag of belongings in his hand and you start to head over to him completely forgetting that you had been in a conversation with the detective. You are only reminded when you hear her voice raise slightly as she says, “You know, Carisi is the one that started looking back at the timeline. He is the reason this case was dropped.” You freeze feeling something twist in your stomach. An emotion that you don’t want to deal with in this happy moment.

“It doesn’t change anything.”

You stride to Randy’s side and hug. You weren’t allowed to touch him when you were visiting him in lockup. He clings to you burying his face into your neck and you can feel the hot tears against your neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much for never giving up on me.” You hug him tighter feeling your own tears roll down your cheeks.

≪ °❈° ≫

You were sitting back at the apartment curled up on the couch wrapped in a blanket as Randy was spending an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom. You smiled to yourself, just happy that he was home. Even if he was back to crashing on your couch. He joined on the couch, hair still wet from his shower. He leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. The two of you sat in silence processing all that had happened in the last four months.

“I found a rehab program when I was locked up. It focuses on people with mental health issues like my bipolar. I called and they said they had a spot open for me. Someone ran out. Good luck, huh?” You laugh shaking your head.

“Good to know you still have your positivity streak.” You lay back feeling absolutely exhausted. You had been having a fatigue that just wouldn’t go away. “I think it's a good idea though. It would be good for you to get that settled. Your being off and on your meds hasn't been helping. I just want you to be happy, and have a real chance at the life you deserve.”

“Yeah, I know. I hope you know I appreciate everything you have done for me. Everything that you have had to sacrifice.” You say his name, but he cuts you off, “No, really Chickadee. All these years, you didn’t have to do any of it. Without you, I would have been dead or locked up three times over by now.” You reach out and start running your finger through his hair. “It’ll probably be good for you to have to space anyways.”

“I don’t mind you sleeping on my couch.” You assure him.

“I know, but with you being pregnant and all. I’m sure you-”

“I’m sorry about me being what?” Randy doesn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, come on Chickadee. I know you were trying not to make a big deal out of it because of everything that was going on but-” You shake your head at him, laughing.

“Randy, I’m not pregnant.” The finality in your voice makes him turn his position to face you more fully. He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Are you sure about that?” His tone is one of disbelief as he eyes your form. You smack his shoulder saying his name loudly. “Well, I would check into that, anyhow. You know with the fatigue, upset stomach, morning sickness, and with how big those things have gotten.” He gestures to your breast with a wave of his hand.

You look down at them and feel your mind starting to spiral as you try to think of the last time you had a period. You bite your thumb as you realize it was before the case had started. While it wasn’t uncommon for you to skip when you were stressed out, that was a considerable amount of time. “Alright, I’m kicking you out of my bed. I haven’t had a good night's sleep in almost four months.” Randy didn’t seem to notice your mind spinning. He thought that you were still just messing around with him. He had no idea the can of worms he had just opened in your head.

You stood up numbly as he started making the couch his makeshift bed. Then flopping onto it with a content sigh. You say nothing as you go to grab your purse and head toward the drug store a block over.

#law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu #dominick carisi #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x you

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tmntkiseki · 4 months ago

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(Massive spoiler warning!) Let's talk about the TMNT 2003 oneshot from the 40th Anniversary Anthology

Ohhhhh boy, my friends, it is finally here. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 40th Anniversary Comics Celebration was released a few days ago and with it, the first comic-based piece of TMNT 2003 media in over 16 years. Whether this oneshot will pave the way for future comics set in the 2003 universe is yet to be seen, but for now, Lloyd Goldfine, Khary Randolph, and Emilio Lopez have cooked up an incredibly delicious treat for fans of the 2003 series, so without further ado, let's dive in because it's ninja time!

(Note: This post contains full spoilers for the "Splinter Forever" oneshot. If you haven't read the comic yet and want to go in as blindly as possible, please do not read beyond the "Keep Reading" and avoid this post like the plague.)

"And how could I have imagined that most incredible transformation of all?! Here, I speak not of mutation... but of my sons. Could I ever have dreamed I would become a father?"

So, before we talk about the actual story of "Splinter Forever," let's talk about a pretty important detail of the comic itself; the fact that it is only eight pages long. While it is certainly not impossible to tell a good story with such a limited number of pages (the Archie oneshot from earlier in the anthology certainly did it, and it had only four pages to work with), it certainly makes telling a deeper, more complex story that much harder since you don't have as much time to tell it. Knowing this, Lloyd Goldfine opted to play it safe and keep things fairly simple in terms of narrative—whether he played it too safe is certainly up for debate, but I personally think that "Splinter Forever" more benefits from this approach than not. What it lacks in interesting plot, it more than makes up for in its characterization and presentation (and believe me, we will be talking about the artwork A LOT in this post.)

"Splinter Forever," at a glance, is pretty straightforward in terms of story; taking place at some point after Turtles Forever, it is about Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo rescuing Splinter, who has been captured by the Shredder; he is assisted by Hun, who is still trapped in his mutated turtle form due to the events of the movie. "Splinter Forever," however, is so much more than just the turtles kicking butt and looking cool—it is a story about Splinter expressing his undying love for his four children and how he values his family above all else.

After a brief flashback to Splinter's days as an ordinary rat in the care of Hamato Yoshi, the turtles make their big entrance by crashing through one of the windows of the Foot facility that Splinter is being held in. Each of the next four pages focuses on one of the turtles, showcasing their combat prowess as they fight Shredder, Hun, and the Foot, all while Splinter... pretty much gushes over them. He highlights Michelangelo's nature as a comedian who, none the less, is the most naturally talented of his brothers at martial arts, the fact that Raphael is actually much softer than his tough, aggressive personality would suggest, Leonardo's big heart and unyielding dedication to protecting his brothers, and Donatello's great intellect and unique worldview. Splinter is just so, so, so proud of the people that his sons have grown into and while none of them are perfect, he wouldn't have them any other way.

Now, the one full page from the oneshot that I am able to include in this post is the one focusing on Michelangelo, as it was made available via IDW's social media several days prior to the release of the anthology in order to promote it. There are two things I want to draw everyone's attention to: Khary Randolph's panel composition and Emilio Lopez's use of color.

So, for starters, the composition; The panels on these four pages are rendered in such a way that they resemble broken glass. Makes sense from a narrative standpoint given how the turtles just appeared to crash Shredder's "Let's kill/experiment on Splinter" party, but I genuinely feel like there are some lines to be drawn between Leo's iconic window scene from season 1 and how this is basically the inverse of that situation; instead of one turtle being tossed by the Foot through a window after being beaten near to death, all four turtles are jumping through a window in order to lay a sound beating on the Foot for trying to harm their father. (Or maybe Khary Randolph just thought it looked cool, I don't know.)

Second; Emilio Lopez's use of color. Oh my gosh, Emilio Lopez's colors. It's amazing because the colors used for the turtles are fairly in line with how they appeared during the first five seasons, but rather than looking dark and muted like in the show, they are rendered in such a way that they appear bright, vibrant, and above all, eye catching. Combined with Khary Randolph's dynamic poses and perspective, the turtles are practically popping off the pages. It's literal eye candy no matter where you look!

Besides that though, comparing Raphael and Leonardo's pages to Michelangelo and Donatello's pages is really, really interesting, especially when done so while examining both Splinter's narration as well as the action happening on-panel. On Michelangelo's page, Emilio only really used gold/orange colors for the backgrounds; on Donatello's page, outside a single panel where Splinter catches his cane, only violets are used for the backgrounds. In contrast, the backgrounds on Raphael's page use both reds and violets, while Leonardo's page includes blues, reds, and oranges.

In terms of the action on Mikey and Don's pages, they are absolutely destroying the Foot that they're up against, and Splinter's narration is nothing short of praise for both of them. When we get to Raph's page, though, he's struggling a bit with Hun. In one panel, Hun manages to grab hold of his arms and in another, he punches Raphael away; the backgrounds of these panels are rendered in violet. But in panels where Raphael is on the offensive, the backgrounds are rendered in red. And then there's Splinter's narration from this page.

"Raphael. Always so angry...most reliably, at himself. But, in truth, he is only half as fearsome as he makes himself out to be... Which of course, is more than fearsome enough."

I don't know if this was intentional on Emilio Lopez's part, but it seems to me that the backgrounds are being used to help characterize the turtles more. In the panels where Hun has the advantage and Raphael is presented as weaker/more vulnerable, the backgrounds are rendered in violet. But in panels where Raphael has the advantage and is confident/on the offensive, the backgrounds feature his iconic red color. Raphael's nature as an "rough on the outside, soft on the inside" type of character is being represented via color! I love that!

Something similar is done on Leo's page. Panels where Leo has the upper hand on the Shredder have the backgrounds rendered in his associated blue, but panels featuring the Foot and the Shredder getting the upper hand on him are rendered in either orange or red. As we know, Leonardo's nature as a perfectionist is his big fatal flaw as a character; on one hand, he trains the hardest and is the most skilled of his brothers in terms of his overall combat abilities, but whenever he perceives himself as having failed his family, he takes it hard, and this is reflected in Splinter's narration.

"Leonardo. He trains so hard. Cares so much. All this... to ensure he never, ever fails his brothers."

Also, I think it's worth pointing out the colors used for the panels where Shredder either only barely avoids hitting Leo or manages to land a strike on him. Orange and red. Michelangelo and Raphael. Leonardo is thinking of his brothers in those moments and how he can't let them down. God damn it, Emilio.

Anyways, after Donatello frees Splinter on his page, we are treated to a gorgeous two page spread that parodies the one from the first Mirage issue; however, now Splinter is a part of the composition and... god, I really love this image. The colors are fantastic, Khary Randolph improved on the posing from the original, and it's a perfect tribute to the original comic that started it all. The box with Splinter's narration where he speaks of how proud he is of his children is even in the same spot where Leo's narration from the original image is!

The final page of the oneshot has Splinter easily kick the Shredder's ass. He breaks his Utrom exosuit and proceeds to send little Ch'rell... flying through a window. God, to do the same thing to the Shredder that he did to Leo in Season 1 is poetic justice at its finest. The four turtles embrace Splinter, and the oneshot ends with the family, now reunited, returning home. The end.

Honestly, my only real nitpick with the oneshot is the fact that there is no explanation for how Ch'rell came back after literally being vaporized during Turtles Forever, but again, Lloyd Goldfine only had eight pages to work with, so I can pretty much let it slide on that basis alone because otherwise? This oneshot is so, so good. It is not only a perfect tribute to Splinter's deep bond with Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo and the love he holds for them as their father, but to the entire 2003 series as a whole. It was certainly worth the wait and I'm definitely hoping that this won't be the last we see of the 2003 turtles in the comic books.

"Yes, mine is a life I could never have imagined for myself...and, even if given forever... I could not have dreamed of one better."

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2003 spoilers #tmnt spoilers #comic spoilers #spoilers #I am slapping as many spoiler tags as possible so people can avoid this post if they want/need to sfjgkdfjgkfd #tmnt splinter #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt shredder #tmnt hun

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extra-v1rgin · 8 months ago

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☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

A/N: For the foreseeable future this will be my last installment in the Tomioka’s wife series. Reading the other parts is encouraged but not necessary. You can find all other parts on my masterlist

Also this took like 7 different drafts until I could write something I like so y’all better be thankful!! (/lh)

This work contains vague spoilers for the end of kny

Cw warnings for quick references to death, ptsd, and an amputee written by an abled body writer (though I tried my best)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Sex with one arm is a lot harder than either of you expected. You offered to sit on his lap, or that you could each lie on your side, but Giyuu insists on doing this “properly” (in his words).

It’s difficult though. Tomioka keeps moving to lean on his absent arm before crashing into you. He can’t even get his dick in before knocking his forehead into yours. Your love for your husband is everlasting, but your patience during sex is not.

“Giyuu.” You slide out from under him. “C’mon let’s take a break.” The look on his face is a little heartbreaking but your temple is still throbbing.

Tomioka presses a soft kiss to your chin. “I can do better.” He can’t pull you back underneath himself while also remaining upright so instead the man crawls towards you.

You eagerly return his kisses despite the sadness you can taste on his lips. Giyuu is never unappealing, but you’d be lying if you said you were the least bit turned on right now. “It’s late. Why don’t we hop in the bath?” You know you’re not clever with how you avoid his propositions. Even if you tried your hardest Giyuu would be able to see through your words.

He nods and doesn’t push any further. Tomioka can’t hide the sense of rejection he feels. You try to offer a few calming words but they don’t clear his misty eyes. It feels like a knife twisting inside your gut.

You let him wait in the room while you prepare the bath. The lack of his presence by your side is simultaneously relieving and sickening. It’s the same hesitant awkwardness that was present when you first got married, except ten-thousand times worse because of how intimately you now know him. A few tears slip down your cheeks but thankfully they don’t develop into anything more.

“Giyuu, the water is ready.” His back is to you. The man is staring at his sword propped up in the corner of the room. It only sits there because you didn’t know what to do upon receiving it, and Tomioka himself seems reluctant to touch it. “Giyuu…” He turns this time, obediently following you to the bathroom. “Do you want me to do your wrappings?” It’s not really a question when you’re already moving to unwind the gauze. He sits patiently while you reveal the remainder of his arm. It’s mostly healed now, but there’s a few scabs that haven’t disappeared yet along with all kinds of colorful bruising that paints his stump in greens and purples. It’s an unpleasant sight, but you’re reverent as you run your fingers over the delicate skin. Tomioka doesn’t look at the length of his arm. There’s a conversation there that you don’t know how to start.

Thankfully the bath does seem to relax him slightly. Even after weeks of rest and only gentle work there’s still so much tension in his muscles. It only seems to lessen in the warm water with you.

“How was your day?” It was the first time you left the man alone in the house since his arrival. You invited him to help you with some shopping but unsurprisingly that offer was rejected.

“Fine.”

“What did you do?”

He ponders the question for far too long. Usually Giyuu just follows you around the house while you clean or cook or just sit quietly. “…I went for a walk, outside.”

“Good, the weather’s been nice lately. Is that all you did?” You try to keep your tone casual.

“I looked at my uniform, since you cleaned it, but-“ The words fall out all at once before coming to a halt. Behind you, you can feel how quickly his heart starts beating.

After a few seconds of silence, when it’s clear he won’t say anything more, you shift to face him.

Giyuu isn’t crying but his eyes are glazed over. They don’t focus even when you move to cup his chin. “I can fix it. I know you said I didn’t have to but if you’ve changed your mind I can.”

“It’s not that. I’m not sure what to do with it now.” The only thing he’s managed to decide upon is his haori. After stitching it together from scraps (for maybe the thousandth time) it moved to the small shrine dedicated to Tsutako and Sabito and a few other new faces. Admittedly it feels odd for the familiar pattern to be absent from his body.

“You don’t have to decide now. We can keep it in the closet or packed away for however long you’d like.”

He falls quiet again. The man looks a little less sad, but not by much. When he leans down to press a kiss against your palm you manage a wry smile. “I’m glad you’re here.” His eyes brighten as they finally focus on you. The statement prompts a real smile to blossom on your face alongside heat rushing to your cheeks. You lean forward to give him a real kiss, not too chaste and not too forceful. It’s something simple.

“I love you a lot. I know things are weird, so much good and some hard things getting muddled together. I hope I’m not making you feel bad with, with the sex and-“

“It’s fine. I don’t know why I-“ His voice cracks. “-Why I keep pushing for it.”

“I love you,” you repeat. “And I’m glad to see you home. Though we should both find hobbies maybe.” You put another smile onto his lips.

“The bath is getting cold.”

“It feels like we only have productive conversations in here though.” It’s proven in the way neither of you leap to get out. You’re content to leech off of Giyuu’s body head and occasionally shiver.

Eventually though all the excuses in the world can’t keep you in the cold water. With a sigh you’re forced to step out and shiver on the bare tile. You grin at Giyuu from behind your wet dripping hair. He fetches robes for the both of you. Meanwhile you go to the counter a pull out a medical ointment for the remaining cuts and bruises on your husbands figure. It has a wonderful earthy smell and makes his skin baby soft. You’re convinced Urokodaki could make a fortune if he started advertising the mixture to women.

Though you lament your calloused hands you keep the salve closed until Giyuu offers you a robe and takes a seat. While you cover yourself he remains nude. With scrapes and bumps all over his body the robe would just become a nuisance.

“I can do it myself if you’d like.” It must be the hundredth time Tomioka has made the offer and as always you’re quick to refuse. You’re doubtful he could get all the spots necessary with just his good arm, but also because you enjoy giving back to the man. He’s given up so much of his body and mind, both to you and the world. Watching his eyes relax as you paint the ointment over his skin is a welcome sight. You focus first on the smaller wounds, scratches on his chest and back. Even with fresh scares you move lightly as to not disrupt the delicate skin as it mends itself.

Finally you move onto Giyuu’s biggest wound. The leftover stump of his arm is twisted and bumpy. You have to work carefully to cover all the dips and bumps in the skin. The green salve also helps to cover the ugly purple and blue bruising. Though the white bandaging truly cleans everything up. You wind it tightly around his bicep to put pressure on the swelling. You can tell he’s trying not to react but you notice how he breathes out carefully.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You have to do it.” But you still notice how his shoulders relax when you pull away. You put the ointment away and help him tie the robe.

“Want me to help with your hair too?”

“I can manage.” You know his short hair is easier to sort through but you miss combing through his long locks at night. On occasion he’d even let you plait it and see the waves it formed in the morning.

“Alright.” You press a light kiss to his cheek. “I’ll get the futon all neat again. Don’t take too long.” You’re aware he’ll probably linger for a bit. You can’t remember if Tomioka seemed quite so distracted before.

Still you don’t want to be overbearing so you leave him on his own. You go back to the bedroom and fix the rumpled bedding. While Giyuu is doing whatever he pleases you tale the opportunity to claim your spot and get comfortable.

When the man joins you you’re already snuggled up and half-asleep. Though you eagerly reach for your husband as he comes into view.

“You’re always so warm.” As Giyuu climbs into bed you pull him closer and tuck yourself into the opening of his robe. Like this you can soak up the heat that seems to radiate from his skin constantly. Your cold fingers worm their way down his front to rest against his abs. You almost feel bad as his muscles stiffen in reaction to your frigid digits.

“And you’re always freezing. You need to wear your gloves more often.” He huffs in annoyance but as his arms curl around your backside you know he can’t be too mad.

You wiggle upwards to sit face to face with Tomioka. “Goodnight handsome.” You mumble the words against his lips in-between gentle kisses.

He hums a muffled reply because you’ve already gone back to hiding your face in his neck. But you’re happy to assume it’s a wonderful confession of love to give you sweet dreams before you get dragged to sleep.

—-

Giyuu hasn’t quite gotten used to normal living yet. He wakes up far too early and with nothing to do the man will either hold you until you wake, or wander around the house aimlessly. Today you’re happy to see he’s chosen the latter. It may seem contradictory, but if he stays with you then you’re slow to wake and even slower to get out of bed.

There’s also the unspoken issue of his struggle to dress himself. You’re not surprised that he isn’t used to getting dressed with only one hand available, but you are surprised that he’s so resistant to your help. Every morning you watch him struggle to button his shirt and buckle his belt. How could you not offer to help? Anytime you reach out though he seems more frustrated than relieved. Even when you don’t help it seems like he can’t bare your gentle looks.

When you find Tomioka his buttons will probably be lopsided and the loose sleeve will have gotten messy somehow but at least he won’t start the day off with a sour attitude.

So after getting ready yourself you set off to find the man. It’s warm outside so you check the engawa first, passing by the koi pond and rock garden. (Both of which you should probably take better care of. At least now you can possible pass off some of the responsibility onto Giyuu.)

He’s not outside so you check inside and then go back out when you still can’t find him. It takes too many passes in and out but finally you spot him through a clearing in the trees. Tomioka moves slowly with the bokken, repeating familiar motions. Before when you watched him train the motions were quicker. Giyuu moved before to push himself to his limits. Now the movements are more like a dance. The point of his sword traces the sky slowly.

You stop at the edge of the clearing to observe him. Your husband is shirtless which means you get the opportunity to admire his figure. Vaguely you recognize the patterns. It’s not exactly clear where one strike ends and another begins but a few unique movements break up the swinging.

He repeats the dance maybe 2 or 3 more times. Giyuu doesn’t acknowledge your presence but you’re smart enough to know that he must see you. You’re happy to stand and watch until he’s done. Hypothetically his stamina is enough to last hours but even his most intense sessions rarely last that long. After maybe 20 minutes he begins to slow down before coming to a stop. You feel like clapping but you know that’d be embarrassing for both you and him.

Tomioka comes over and leans on your shoulder. He drops the bokken and wraps a strong arm around your frame. The man is a little sweaty but you don’t mind.

“How are you today?” You can predict his answer. If he’s actually doing something with his time then it’s a good sign.

“Hungry,” He mumbles into your hair.

“Well breakfast would’ve been ready if I didn’t come searching for you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine! You can help me now, or watch. You must be tired.”

“I’ll help.” He pulls away from you to fetch his shirt. It’s one of the few you haven’t hemmed to match his shortened arm. Before he can say anything you knot the loose fabric and fold the ends up a few times. If he really intends to help then you can’t deal with the empty sleeve dragging over the counters.

You pull back to soak in his appearance now. His shirt is a button up, a struggle with one hand but he’s managed it nicely. You tug at his collar to straighten it out.

“I buttoned it before putting it on this time.” There’s a slight shyness to his voice. His eyes look at your cheeks instead of your eyes.

A surprised laugh bubbles from your chest. “You’re so smart.” You tug him towards you for a quick kiss.

Giyuu blushes. He’s been more receptive to your words lately, at least more visible in how he reacts. It’s a shame as you had just been getting used to reading his expressions. His blush is pretty though so you can live with the difference.

You drag him indoors and direct him to start on some rice. Slowly you’ve been coaching Giyuu on how to cook food that’s flavorful and more complex but he hasn’t made too much progress yet. It’s not that he’s bad at cooking, but rather that he can only cook the same rotation of a few simple dishes over and over.

Still he manages to hold his own with the sides while you focus on grilling some fish. It’s not much a proper breakfast but Giyuu eats 3 servings if you make something lighter like porridge or pastries. You like the more savory tastings too.

With both of you working it’s a quick process after which you enjoy a quick breakfast. Tomioka doesn’t talk that much more compared to the before version of him that sticks in your mind. It’s nice, the parts of him that feel the same. The different parts are good too just strange.

“I’m feeding the koi today. That doesn’t sound like much of a chore but I like enjoying a meal out there as well.”

Giyuu nods. “I’ll join you.”

“And afterwards I want help reorganizing the guest rooms. They should be more permanent. Everyone else is settling down now too but afterwards I hope we get more visitors.”

“Like who?” He asks it like it’s an actual question.

“Urokodaki-san, Uzui-san and his wives, whoever Tanjiro-kun hangs around with.” You’ve heard stories of the redhead’s friends and you’re still not sure if you want to meet them but they are welcome anyways. “And if you try to keep anyone out then I’ll invite them myself.”

You can tell there’s a disagreement hiding in the back of his throat so instead Tomioka keeps his mouth shut and bows his head.

“And they all like you too. It’s not me they’d be coming to see.”

With that breakfast ends.

—-

The days start to move more smoothly. Giyuu figures out how to dress himself and doesn’t complain when you do step in to help. He doesn’t drop his chopsticks anymore although plenty of rice still gets stuck on his cheeks. You think his practice (maybe not practice because there’s no need for a performance now) with the bokken is helpful. You’re no expert but you can see how his balance has shifted.

You do get a few visitors too. Your parents visit once. It’s the first time they’ve been by in the year or two you’ve been together. You don’t mind the fact now that they married you off. It’s not a rare fate and things ended up better because of that anyhow. You’re still glad that they don’t stay for too long though.

The rest of your guests are livelier. Suma announces that she’s pregnant and you all celebrate over a bottle of sake. You’re not sure how the three women will share the mothering duties but Makio and Hinatsuru seem just as happy as Tengen is. At some point someone asks when it’ll be your turn and while you’re happy to laugh off the half-joke half-question Giyuu’s face turns the color of the salmon you’re sharing. Even the next day you think his cheeks are still tinted pink.

You get lots of letters from Tanjiro but it seems like his group is too busy to justify a trip. They’re only a day or so away however and a housewarming will be a great reason to visit in a month or so. Even Tomioka seems to look forward to the idea of seeing the boy.

Some people stop by as they travel. A lot of them you’re not familiar with. Mostly they’re corps members who were in the lower ranks. You know you won’t see the majority of them again but it’s nice to meet them and dine for the night. It’s a good kind of change, keeps you from getting bored, but rare enough of an occurrence that you don’t feel too on edge.

You introduce Giyuu to some of the people in the town when he starts accompanying you. It’s true that most people there are acquaintances at best but they’re kind (and of course curious). Everyone stares when he carries loads of rice in one arm. Now that he’s nearly healed it’s easy for him to show off his strength.

You track time by Giyuu’s wounds. You’re only bandaging his arm now and only because the pressure quiets the ghost pains that creep up the limb. All his skin is smooth and pale, interrupted by the occasional scar. It’s an even tone though and unmarred by any bruises or knots.

He’s somewhat adapted to the loss of his arm by now. Most things come easier now, dressing and helping with chores. Chopsticks are still a struggle and his writing is hardly any more legible but it’s slowly improving.

And it seems with how things have stabilized that Giyuu wants to try fucking you again. After your last rejection he hadn’t brought up the idea again. Kisses had stayed soft and slow, lasting only a second or two. His hand held your arm or waist but never slipped down past the small of your back.

Tonight though you can already see how forward he is. His lips meet yours already open, tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You meet him eagerly. Your hands wrap around his neck and rub against the ends of his hair.

After only a moment he pushes further. It’s easy for Giyuu to tempt you backwards. His weight on top of you makes his boner incredibly apparent. You’re unashamed as you buck upwards, grinding against it.

Though you easily give into the way his hands dance around your waist and ass there’s hesitation when they move back up and try to peel away your kimono.

“Giyuu, do you really want this? I do but only if you’re not gonna… get frustrated.” You wince at the harsh language. You are not a statue of patience yourself.

“Do you want it?”

“Yes, A lot. I want you so badly. But I wanna do it right y’know. Or I want you to enjoy it… I dunno. I’m not good at expressing my thoughts like this.” You end with a nervous laugh that bleeds into a kiss as Giyuu tries to quiet your worries.

With nothing else to say the kisses morph into something more heated. Your hand slips into Giyuu’s hair. He keeps trying to move down to your neck or chest but you’re hesitant to let him leave your face so soon. Occasionally his eyelashes flutter against your own while his nose keeps bumping against your cheek.

Eventually you let him have his way with you. As his moves downwards you help him to slip off your simple yukata, exposing your breasts.

You didn’t mind the waiting before. There were more important things to focus on and the thought of sex faded to the background. Now all the weeks of nothing that didn’t seem to matter before are rushing in. Your body feels like it’s on fire wherever his lips move. Every touch sends waves of arousal straight to your cunt. It’s barely been five minutes and you’re chanting Giyuu’s name like you’re about to cum.

When he pulls back from your breasts his lips are soft pink and wet with drool. You pull him in for a few more kisses while he continues to fondle you. He has to practically pin you down to get away again.

The man is careful with his weight. When he needs to use his hand for something Tomioka has to shift his weight onto his legs. It lengthens things in the best (worst) of ways. Right before he pulls your fundoshi off you must wait and twitch while the man gets in a proper position. It’s even worse when his fingers trace over your abdomen so slowly. Tomioka moves his digits right around your pussy instead of over it despite how your hips jerk towards the touch. Eventually he drags your fundoshi off and throws it to the side.

With your cunt exposed you feel shy. For a long time the embarrassment of sex and nudity had gone away as it became commonplace. The way Tomioka looks at you now however is shameful. His eyes are hungry as they sink down close to your cunt.

When he moves forward his mouth is equally ravenous. His fingers have already felt how wet you are so he wastes no more time with teasing. Tomioka sinks his teeth into the meet of your cunt. While fangs pull his tongue pushes and enters your tender core. With a breathy sigh you try to relax into the sheets. Though your body continually tenses you turn your focus to the feeling of the soft futon below you. If you lean into Giyuu’s touch too much you know he’ll make you cum within minutes. This is something you want to draw out, enjoy.

The first few minutes of Tomioka eating you out are pleasant, soothing even. After attaching himself to you the man has calmed somewhat. It feels less like he’s trying to suck out your soul and more like a slow pattern of movements. His tongue spears into your cunt, moves upwards to trace around your clit, and then back down so he can press wet kisses over your hole until the cycle continues.

Eventually your grip on his hair loosens. As it stretches from ten to twenty to thirty minutes all the sensation around your pussy melts together. It’s not boring— Giyuu’s body against yours will never be —but the level of stimulation has plateaued.

“Mmm ‘Yuu baby I want you inside of me.” You drag him up by his bangs until his head pops out from between your thighs. The entire lower half of his face is shiny with slick and sweat. His lips are plump and wet.

“Can I go a little longer?” Your husband’s rough voice sends waves of arousal back through your stomach. His grip on your thigh is tight.

“Just a little ok? I won’t let you have all the fun.” You cradle his face and press a firm kiss to his lips. It tastes like salt and skin. Within a moment he dives back down.

Tomioka moves for another fives minutes or so while you pant and moan. You could fall asleep like this. When you close your eyes and the sensation radiates outward from your core it’s like your body is melting.

Eventually you convince him to surface again, this time for real. You kiss more although the taste of his mouth isn’t the most pleasant with your slick all over it.

With a few upward movements of your hips you convince him to begin bedding you properly. Tomioka has to sit back on his knees for leverage. It means you can’t kiss him anymore but thankfully you can still stare at his soft face. As he slides into you, you watch how his expression shifts. Your hips slide upwards while his hands holds onto your waist. Though it’s been a few months since he’s fucked you Giyuu’s dick slides in with little resistance. Bit by bit he thrusts forward, slowly sinking in. You keep your legs spread wide open until his hips finally press against your own.

The stretch is nearly painful as you attempt to wrap your legs around him. When he pulls back your hips get some reprieve but he quickly thrusts back in. As he finds a rhythm you can ignore the burning stretch in favor of the pleasure.

It’s hard to keep your eyes open but you don’t want to miss any moment of this. Giyuu looks like he’s doing the same. His eyes slip closed only to pop open as he bites his lip and slides deeper into you.

Your husband leans further over you to plant a hand on your side. As his face hovers over your own you jerk him closer. His pace stutters and slows but doesn’t stop. When you pull him in for a kiss Giyuu’s speed suffers again but his lips on yours is just as stimulating as his cock.

He pushes away and carefully lays his head down on your chest. You go to question him but as his hand moves from supporting himself to circling your clit all the words in your brain turn to mush.

It’s a bit awkward with his arm sandwiched between your bodies and the weight of Tomioka on you but the feeling is worth it. He gives up any leverage he has in this position so you contribute a few weak thrusts. You don’t have the same strength he does so instead you settle for grinding down on him. Though your hips groan in annoyance you wrap your legs around Giyuu’s to force them closer.

“I love you,” you pant between breathy moans. With his pelvis grinding against your clit sparks keep going off behind your eyes. You pull his head upwards to press sloppy kisses against his lips. “Are- are you gonna cum soon? G’yuu I dunno how much longer I can wait.”

“It’s ok you can cum anytime. I’ve got you.” Tomioka presses a tender kiss to your jaw, right under your ear where it tickles you in all the right ways. As his hips smack against yours everything explodes.

The only thing you can do is pant his name in between proclamations of love. Your muscles are so tight they burn but it’s worth it. With your toes curled your feet begin to cramp up.

Right when the pain begins to overtake the pleasure you fall limp. It shakes your entire body as Giyuu keeps thrusting but you’re already wrung dry. You count to ten a few times until he finally spills inside of you. When his movements end you relax into the futon. Everything hurts just a little but it’s worth it.

Your husband pulls out slowly and flops down beside you. You can barely move but you turn to face the man and plant your head over his shoulder. As your legs shift all kinds of gross fluids moisten your thighs.

“I love you… so much. You’re great.” You press light kisses on whatever skin you can reach.

“Do you want a bath?” His hand reaches up to brush hair off your forehead.

“Yea but I don’ wanna move.”

“Grab onto me and I can carry you.”

Part of you wants to point out that that still counts as moving because everything still aches but you push that part back and wrap your arms around your neck. It’s harder to get your legs in place because you can’t feel anything below your waist but eventually it happens.

Tomioka grunts as he forces himself to stand and you feel bad because he must be tired too, but by the time you open your mouth he’s already setting you down on the edge of the bathtub.

It takes too long to fill but your patience is well rewarded when you sink into warm water. Your muscles shift back into place and you regain the ability to move.

Turning around you face your husband. He has a faint tired smile that widens when you press another kiss on his lips. “I love you.” You mumble the words over and over. “You’re so- I dunno I just love you.”

“You’re tired.” He returns the kisses softly. “Should I take you back to bed?” You’ve barely washed up and there’s no way in hell you’re stepping out until you’ve scrubbed off at least 3 layers of skin.

“Give me a sec,” you groan and reach for the washcloth. Scrubbing between your legs you try to ignore the slimy feeling of whatever leaks out from your cunt. Carefully you scrub your pussy too, wincing at how tender it is. Tomioka takes the towel from you and moves even gentler. Any contact with the area is still horrible but you breathe slowly until he decides the job is done.

He does your thighs again before moving to your back. Giyuu digs his thumbs into your muscles and you have to suppress another moan. It’s like magic the way he pulls pain from your bones. Soon enough you’re letting out soft pants again but the impromptu massage lasts only another minute or two.

You swear you can hear a smile in his voice. “Is it my turn now?”

The muffled noise you make isn’t really an answer but you take the towel back. Turning towards him you run the washcloth over his pecs. In its tracks you leave more kisses. You’re sloppier in your movements than he was but to be fair you’re also falling asleep as you move. His chest makes a wonderful pillow and the water is still warm enough to be soothing.

Tomioka moves to pick you up and you make a tired noise. “Sorry sorry, are you clean enough?”

“I’m fine.”

You squirm around in his arms until you vaguely face him. “I’m so lucky to have such a strong husband.”

“Do you want to get dressed.”

“No it’s ok. We should wrap up your arm though.”

“We can do it in the morning, you’re tired.”

After a moment you pick your head up. “Not that tired.”

“It’s good to let the area get fresh air. One night will be fine.”

“Ok but don’t complain if it’s sore in the morning.”

Tomioka carries you out of the bathroom. The futon is still soaked in sweat and whatever else so while you cling to his back he throws an extra blanket on top.

Finally as he sets you down you let your eyes slip shut. As Giyuu settles beside you your arms wrap around his figure. You attempt to press a few more kisses against his lips but really it’s more like smashing your lips onto him. “Mmm, love you. Sorry for making you carry me.”

“I love you too.” The man kisses you properly. You wish you could manage to stay conscious for more than thirty minutes after sex. You want to treasure this moment. Instead you fall asleep.

Luckily the morning is slow.

#kny #demon slayer #nsft #kimetsu no yaiba #tomioka giyuu #tomioka #tomioka x reader #tomioka’s wife #reader insert #afab reader #female reader #domestic fluff #domestic life

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