#i work in a smoke shop it's fine
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mementomarygold · 1 year ago
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from the line in gaston where he brags that "every last inch of me is covered in hair! " i can from now on only assume he's just big mad that he's not hairy enough for belles furry ass
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dirtnote · 1 year ago
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today was extremely embarrassing but watever we move forth
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clownpassing · 8 months ago
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whewwwwwwwwwww today was so much
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monster-disaster · 1 year ago
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[wolf-shifter] Rome
wolf-shifter!Rome x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, non-con, breeding, rut Summary: Your best friend can't keep himself away from you anymore.
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"Did I wake you up?" Your words are slurred when you break the silence of the quiet flat. The only sound is the traffic from the streets, filtering inside through the closed windows. A few cars pass by every now and again. Their engine rumbles through the air, echoing off the buildings.
Your back is against the wall next to the entrance door as your best friend kneels in front of you, trying to take off your shoes with a slight frown between his brows. His thick fingers can barely handle the delicate clasps.
"It's fine," he hums, pushing the shoes aside. "I told you to call me if you need me."
"Thank you," you reply, tilting your head back when he stands up and towers above you. Your makeup is a bit smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him sleepily. "You are a good friend, Rome. I love you."
The man just smirks at your words, tucking you against his side to lead you into his room. He knows the drill by now. You go out with your co-workers, drink more than you can handle, and call him to take you home. He helps you, of course, while listening to you repeat how much you love him until you fall asleep.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he replies, opening the door of his room and leading you inside until you sit on the edge of his bed. Your posture is relaxed and tired. You don't even move a muscle when you feel him starting to take off your clothes.
"Arms up," he says, and when you do, he pulls up your top until it's on a chair nearby. It smells like your perfume, smoke, and alcohol.
"Do you want a shower?" Rome asks even though he already knows your answer.
"'m tired," you hum, letting your eyes close while you are still in a sitting position.
"Of course," the man chuckles.
While he searches for a shirt you can sleep in, he can't help but let his eyes wander on your almost bare body. Your tits fill the bra into a nice cleavage, and your panties match.
"Hold up your arms for a second, sweetheart," he says quietly, feeling a bit annoyed when the thin fabric hides your body from his dark gaze.
"You can lay down now," he adds, helping you onto his bed and tucking you in. By the time he straightens up, you are already asleep.
Rome has known you since he moved into the city. You met at a coffee shop where you worked after college. He knew you were the one him after a glance and a sniff in the air heavy with the scent of coffee and you. It was love at first sight, except you put him into a friend zone, and Rome never figured out how to get out of it without ruining your friendship. So he stayed in that damn zone, hoping that one day you will confess his love for him or he will grow some balls to tell you the truth. Pathetic really.
After making sure the lock of his entrance door is closed and putting a big glass of water next to you on the nightstand, he climbs onto the bed, trying to focus on anything else but your closeness. You are bundled up in the blanket so much he can barely see the top of your head, and your light snores are muffled by the thick fabric.
His brothers would laugh at him for sure. Their little brother can't get the girl, so he has to wake up next to her with blue balls. How funny. They would never let this go. Idiots. All of them.
He glances at you one last time. He is, too.
Sleep takes him after a while, but his dreams are heavy and troubled. When he wakes up, it's almost morning. The sun is still hiding behind the horizon, but it's there. He turns on his back and groans. His gums ache and burns, his mouth open to lift the pressure off his teeth. Sweat glistens on his heated body. His fingers dig into the mattress under him, feeling his claws wanting to grow out. And his cock. He closes his eyes tightly to keep a pained moan in his chest. It's hard and heavy between his thighs. His erection pulses with each breath he takes, and his underwear is already ruined by the precum soaking the black fabric.
"Fuck," he grunts, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He has a hard time making his tense muscles move. The wooden ground feels cold under him. His skin feels too tight and too itchy.
Rome circles his broad shoulders backward a few times before standing up to get to the kitchen for some water. And maybe he should go out for a run. Yes. Some fresh air would definitely do some good.
The man is almost at the door of his room when you turn on your back on the bed, still sleeping. His eyes rake over your body under the covers. He almost forgot you were there. He was so busy with his wolf wanting to come out he didn't even notice you until now. But now, he can't tear his gaze away from you. You are so peaceful and pretty. Your hair is a mess, and your makeup is smeared around your closed eyes even more than last night.
"Fuck," Rome groans again. You shouldn't be here. Not when his rut is approaching and the wolf in him claws on the inside of his mind to get out.
He should force himself to walk away and call an Uber for you. He should wake you up and make you leave. Or at least, he should force himself out of the room. You shouldn't be here so beautiful and soft while his cock throbs with the need to fill you up.
Images of you pliant and warm in his arms flood his mind. How would you feel under his hands? Under his tongue? Around his...
Rome stares at your chest for long seconds, watching you breathe. You are deep asleep. You always black out when you drink too much.
He steps closer.
His large hands curl into fists.
Another step to the bed.
He shouldn't.
"Fuck."
The change of his body comes naturally and quickly. His skeleton transforms into something more primal, with firm muscles and dark fur all over his skin. He grows taller and stronger. The ache in his body lessens, but his cock between his legs still bobs angrily with each step he takes to the bed to get closer to your sleeping form. His claws grip the blanket, pulling it down from the bed slowly and carefully. He drops it to the ground, keeping his eyes on your bare legs. His t-shirt barely hides your panties, and he can see your nipples harden at the sudden change of temperature.
For a second, his attention wanders up to your face. Your eyes are still closed, and your breath is even. The man climbs up on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight. He hovers above your sleeping form, almost frozen. You can wake up at any minute, and there is no way he can explain the situation without you freaking out.
But it's too little and too late.
Taking a deep breath, his hand moves to his aching cock, his long fingers curling around the thick shaft. A groan escapes his open mouth, his long tongue lick over his upper teeth. His eyes wander down on your body, pausing at your soft tits and hard nipples before falling to your covered mound. His grip tightens on his erection, precum leaking from the dark pink tip. He throbs in his own hand, urging him to do something.
He saw you like this several times since you know each other. You are comfortable showing some skin even though it drives him crazy under the surface. The memories almost make him angry. So many times, he imagined you under him, moaning and crying for him while you were totally unaware of his desires and demons.
Releasing his cock, he reaches out for you. His touch is gentle and warm on your knees, gliding up on the soft flesh of your thigh. When you open your legs, he almost jumps back and out of the bed. Rome snaps his eyes up to your face again. You are still asleep.
It's so wrong on so many levels.
Now, that your legs are open, he can see the slit of your pussy through the thin fabric. Drool drips down from his mouth at the plump sight.
Maybe it's enough, he tries to convince himself. Just jerking off on the view of your cunt is enough until you wake up and go home. You won't know anything about it, and life can go on as usual. It's a lie, and the beast in him knows it.
His hand is on you again, caressing your thigh before sliding up to your panties. It's soft under his touch but does nothing but annoy him. His thumb moves between your legs, feeling the heat of your pussy on his own skin. His heart beats in his throat as he watches. Your clit is under his thumb, drawing small circles on the bud.
Rome doesn't have to wait long to feel your arousal in the air. It's thick and heavy, making him and his cock drool some more.
"Fuck!" He groans. His snout fidgets as he takes deep breaths from your scent. "You smell so good."
He moves closer, slowly, tentatively. He lifts his weight onto his arms at the sides of your body. His eyes are on your face again, watching you sleep while his nose almost bumps against your mound. A low groan rumbles in his chest. You are so close. So delicious. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking through your center over the fabric covering it. You are wet. He licks over your slit until your panties are soaked with your juices and his saliva. It sticks to your plump pussy.
"Let's take it down," he hums, hooking his long fingers on the side of your panties to pull it down and reveal your most intimate part. Your cunt glistens under the street lights that filter into his bedroom through the window.
The wolf-shifter's world spins around him once, twice, three times as he leans closer again. His snout rubs against your clit, taking deep breaths of your heavy smell. He lost control over his own body a long time ago.
"So pretty," he murmurs. Saliva drips down onto your wet center as he hovers above you. The sight fills him with satisfaction. You will smell like him. You will be marked by him. "You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart."
Almost bursting with anticipation, he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juices. When he flicks your clit, you moan into the dark room, making him freeze for long seconds. The sound escaping your mouth is hoarse and oh, so delicious. Your smell gets stronger in the air, but you don't move.
"Just a little bit more," he whispers, almost begging. He slurps on your pussy hurriedly, trying to suffocate himself in your cunt. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside your hot channel. He can feel you fluttering around his tongue, sucking him in for more. His whole body trembles as his muscles tense. Every nerve in his body is focused on you. Your smell and taste drive him deeper and deeper to the point he can't back away.
His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, leaking. His balls feel too tight, and his hips start to rock back and forth every now and again to find some friction. The knot at the base of his shaft grows with each second he spends between your thighs, munching on your cunt.
Biting off his own claw, he turns his attention back to your empty hole. His tongue slides into you easily. You are pulsing and fluttering until he adds his finger to stretch you out some more. For a second, you tense up, moaning again before continuing to sleep. He almost laughs. He could fuck you. You wouldn't wake up.
He almost cums when you clench around him. He scoops up your nectar with his tongue, gulping to burn the memory of your taste in his mind. Your breathing gets heavier, and a small, barely noticeable tremble runs through your body as you reach your climax. With his free hand, Rome has to squeeze his cock to stop him from shooting his seed all over you and the bed.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, keeping his fingers in you, feeling your still squeezing walls. "Can you do that again? Could you cum on my cock, hm? Are you ready for it?"
It's madness.
He climbs above you, pushing your legs apart to have enough space for his slim waist between your thighs. His erection rubs against your folds, mixing his pre-cum and your juices together.
"God," he groans. "Fuck! So good, sweetheart. Your cunt is so warm. She wants me, love. She wants my cock inside. You know it, too."
Grabbing his erection, he adjusts the bulbous tip to your entrance before starting to push inside. He growls at the feeling of you enveloping him. You are warm and wet and perfect. His balls jerk and his knot pulses.
"That's it," he groans. "You are doing so good, sweetheart."
"Rome?" Your voice feels like cold water. His name on your lips is thick with sleep and confusion. "What? What are you doing?" Your question ends in a moan when he doesn't stop. He pushes his cock inside you entirely, stretching you out and filling you up.
"Shh, sweetheart," he grunts, panting. "It's okay."
"Rome?" Panic laces your voice. "Rome! Stop!"
"I can't," Rome replies, shaking his head, licking up on the side of your neck. Your palms seem small on his broad chest as you try to push him away while he still rocking back and forth inside you.
"Enough! Rome!"
"Shh," he tries to calm you again. His mind is dizzy with the feeling of you around him. Tight and warm, clenching with every movement you make. Your trashing under him almost breaks his cock off, but damn his whole life if he stops. "It's okay, love. Your pussy wants it."
"What? No! It's wrong!"
"No!" He growls. "It's not! I should have made you mine a long time ago!"
Despite your panic and anger, a moan escapes your lips when he thrusts inside you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, soaking his erection. Rome reaches every sweet spot in you, driving you higher and higher.
"So good, sweetheart," he coos. His words fan over the side of your neck. "You feel it too, right? My cock stretches your tiny pussy. You squeeze on me so tight, I can barely move."
"Rome!" You moan his name, your fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulder. Your legs curl around his waist to keep him close. Pleasure flares through your body even though you know it's wrong.
"And you taste so good, love," he grunst into your neck. Your skin is wet from his drooling. "I ate your pussy while you slept," he admits. "I drank up your juices. You got wet so easily. Your pussy knew it was me."
They shouldn't, but his words fuel you more. Your hips move under him, meeting his thrust as your back arches from the bed.
"Rome! Please! Fuck!"
Seeing you so responsive wakes up something primal inside him. You want him, he thinks, shocked. You want his cock, his warm cum. His mark. He almost shouts with pain when he forces himself to kneel up and leave your warm channel.
"Turn around," he says but doesn't wait for your reaction. Grabbing your hips, he turns you on your stomach, tugging you into a kneeling position. Your ass rubs against his cock while he hovers above you and pushes your head down on the bed.
"Present yourself for me, sweetheart," he groans, rutting against your bottom. "Show me how much you want my cock like a good bitch."
"Rome," you cry his name, screaming when he enters into your pussy again. His hold is firm and hard on your hips as he keeps you in place against his pounding. He fucks your pussy with newfound vigor. Your juices flow down on your thighs, dripping onto the bed.
"Fuck!" Rome groans. "Your pussy is so good to me, sweetheart. She knows what she wants, and it's my cock. She wants me to fill her up and soak her with my seed."
His words clear your mind for a second. Your fingers grip onto the blanket under you. "Wait! Rome! Don't! I don't…!"
"It's okay, love," Rome groans, still fucking you. "You don't have to worry. I will take care of you and our pup. I will fuck your cunt until you are round with my child. I want to see your tits grow with milk and your stomach with our pup. Maybe I will always keep you pregnant and ripe."
Tears run down your cheek from pleasure and fear. Your body and your mind tell different things, and you can do nothing because of the spinning world around you. Your walls flutter around his cock, your stomach tightens into a burning coil.
"Take my knot, love," he demands. "Let me fuck my mate pregnant. Let me have this, love. Just open up your pussy for me, and I will do the rest."
There is no way you can fight against him. His hold on you is too strong and tight, while your limbs feel like jelly. He bullies your cock, filling you up to the brim.
Rome's whole world narrows down on your sweet hole as he forces his knot inside your wet pussy. Every nerve in his body bursts with pleasure when he is inside you fully, and he can't move without tugging and pushing you with the rhythm of his hips pounding your hole.
His growl shakes the walls as he cums inside you. He shoots into your hole several times until, even through the barrier of his knot, some still escapes your pussy.
"Ohgod!" You cry, shaking and jerking. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you reach your climax. You suck Rome for every drop of his cum he can give you. Your pussy aches and burns so deliciously that you can do nothing, but rock back against him for more. His chuckle is hoarse next to your ears when he notices what you are doing.
"It's 'kay, love," he hums, still keeping his weight on his arms. "My rut will keep me going for a while longer before I'm done with you."
"What?" You gasp, breathless. "We are not done?"
"Didn't you hear me?" He hums, pushing inside you more if it's even possible. "I won't stop until you are with my pup."
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buckyalpine · 3 months ago
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18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.
Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.
She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.
Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.
-
You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.
The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.
“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.
"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.
"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"
"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"
"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.
"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.
"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.
"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"
"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.
"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.
"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"
"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.
“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.
It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...
"Better stop making those sounds"
"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.
"Princess..."
"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"
-
You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.
"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"
You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.
"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"
You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.
"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"
"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"
"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.
"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"
-
"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.
"You alright angel?"
"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.
"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.
"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.
"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"
Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.
"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.
"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.
-
"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.
"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.
"Wasn't me"
-
just an idea.
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baby-prophet · 1 year ago
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im going to fucking scream so i brought my tablet to get the screen replaced a week ago and they said itd take 4-7 days. well they replaced it and the screen didnt work, so they reordered the part and like i leave friday... like. i fucking hate apple i fucking hate technology i fucking hate every fucking thing.
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bisexualiteaa · 9 months ago
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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want
A Flame in Your Heart
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)
CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader
AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️
Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.
“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.
“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.
Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.
“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.
Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.
He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.
When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.
When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?
“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.
“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.
Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.
Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.
In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.
As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.
“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.
It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.
“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.
By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.
It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.
“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.
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bunnyhugs77 · 3 months ago
Text
Driven 2 U
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Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook
Word Count: 5.2k
Notes: am i back from the dead??
Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.
Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.
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The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.
The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.
Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.
"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \
Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."
"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."
"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."
That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.
Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.
You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.
You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.
"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.
"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.
"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.
Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.
Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.
Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.
"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.
Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.
Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.
"Y/n speaking."
It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.
"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.
"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.
You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.
"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.
Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"
"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.
"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.
"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.
Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.
Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.
"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.
"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.
His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.
"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.
"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.
You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.
He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.
Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.
His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."
Oh.
"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.
-
Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."
Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."
"Deal."
The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."
"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.
"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."
--
A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.
This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.
You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.
Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.
You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.
The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.
You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.
You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.
You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.
The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.
Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.
"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.
"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.
He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.
You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.
He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.
Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.
"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."
Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"
"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."
You stood there, jaw dropped.
"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.
Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."
You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.
"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.
You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.
His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.
--
"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."
It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.
You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.
--
It's been a month.
He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.
You were spiralling, just a tad.
Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...
You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.
You shake your head.
No.
That's crazy.
You grab the keys anyway.
After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.
Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.
"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."
-
You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.
Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--
"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"
The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."
Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.
-
A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.
You sighed.
You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.
The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.
After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.
"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.
"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.
"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.
-
It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.
Oh boy.
'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.
'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'
She gives you a thumbs up.
Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.
But maybe this was for the best.
Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.
-
Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"
"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.
How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-
Oh shit.
You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.
Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.
In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.
You were headed right towards him.
You looked angry- no, upset, no-
"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.
You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"
"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.
He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.
You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.
"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.
"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.
"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."
He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.
"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."
He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."
With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.
"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.
He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.
He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.
"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.
His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.
Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.
You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.
Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.
To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.
You came with his name falling off your lips.
Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"
"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.
"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.
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cursedyuri · 4 months ago
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a blurb in which ellie’s a sex shop worker you’re becoming very, very well-acquainted with <3
18+ mdni! shoo!
you’re on the verge of what would be your most earth-shattering orgasm to date when your vibrator betrays you.
your naked body, painted with a thin layer of sweat, sprawls over the wrinkled sheets of your bed, the damp fabric clinging to your skin as you gasp for breath. you’re working the vibrator over your slick folds, through the creamy spend of your previous orgasm, and every sensation below your waist is pure ecstasy. it hasn’t taken long to bring you right back to the edge - your back arches of its own accord, your eyes squeezing shut as a flurry of daydreams passes through your head.
all of them, it turns out, involve the very person who’d sold you the vibrator buzzing between your legs. ellie.
her hands on your hips, your ass, your throat. her mouth on your neck, her tongue on your clit. you can almost feel the warm puffs of breath she’d huff down at you as she fucked you, splitting you open with her strap and leaving you empty-headed and spent.
the mental images alone are enough to send you reeling, and right as you’re about to pass the threshold into the white-hot, blinding pleasure of another orgasm, the persistent hum of your vibrator abruptly cuts off.
you could throw up. you could cry. you could exercise sound logic and just charge the damn thing, but instead of any of the above, you find yourself rummaging through your drawers for whatever clothes you can find. sweats and a band tee, a mismatched pair of socks. nothing else.
ellie’s behind the counter again when you pull the door open. the shrill chirp of the entrance sensors draws her eyes to you, and you’re unsurprised to find her smoking a cigarette, body huddled over the edge of the counter. her brows lift in surprise when she sees you.
“back already?” she asks, putting out her cig leisurely. “must’ve gone really well. or maybe really poorly?“
you don’t miss the way her eyes roam over your figure, lingering on your chest; you’re not wearing a bra, and the peaks of your nipples are visible beneath the thin fabric. your back straightens.
“it died.”
“oh,” ellie says. “did you… charge it?”
“no, i wanted to—i thought maybe i could try something else.” you chew at your lower lip, casting a glance at the wall of toys from which ellie had plucked your vibrating bullet the first time you’d come here. you turn back to ellie just in time to see something dark glimmer in her eyes. she nods.
“yeah, of course. think you’re ready for something more intense? c’mon.” she nods her head towards the toy section, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulder. you follow her and watch as she surveys the wall of toys, the sheer volume of packages just as overwhelming as last time. ellie reaches out for a hot pink box, shiny lettering spelling out Boss Lady across the top. you grimace.
“what kind of name is that for a sex toy?” you quip, reaching for the package. ellie snatches it out of reach.
“ah-ah, sweetheart, don’t doubt the Boss Lady. she packs quite the punch.”
“really, now?” you ask, cocking a brow. “you know from experience?”
ellie just smiles, dimples in her cheeks. “if the name is just too cringy for you, we can find something else. but i recommend her—i think you’ll have lots of fun with her.”
“okay, fine. you pulled my leg.” you reach for the box again, and ellie lets you grab it this time, her gaze on you as you flip the package over and read through some of the metallic pink text adorning the back. the only rabbit vibrator you’ll ever need, it reads. powerful dual stimulation will keep you satisfied!
it occurs to you then, as you follow ellie to the register and dig in your pockets for some cash, that you should probably be embarrassed. here you are, a week after your first ever vibrator purchase, ready to fork over some hard-earned cash for a second one—one with a questionable name, no less. your cheeks warm as ellie regards you from the other side of the register, the heels of her hands pressed to the counter. there’s a knowing look on her face, her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk, that dark look from earlier still dancing in her eyes.
god, she probably thinks you’re a sex addict. she totally thinks you’re a sex addict.
“is it weird that i’m back so soon?” you ask, before you can think to filter yourself. ellie’s brows knit together in confusion.
“huh? no, no, not at all—we have plenty of regulars, you know.” she types something into the register, eyes still fixed on you. “i’d say it’s weirder that you’re here at two in the morning.”
you blink. “two?”
“two twenty-one, to be precise.” ellie nods at the clock on the wall, the hour, minute, and second hands made of three different flesh-toned penis cutouts. “but hey, i get it. your vibrator died.”
you clear your throat. “how much do i owe you?”
“hm. well…” ellie drums her fingers on the cash wrap’s countertop. “i’m feeling generous tonight. answer one question for me, and Boss Lady is yours for free.”
“i’m awful at trivia,” you confess.
“trivia? jesus.” ellie barks a surprised laugh. “i’m not—it’s not trivia.”
narrowing your eyes, you shuffle up to the counter and nod. “okay, fine. ask away.”
ellie moves in closer, too, head dipping ever so slightly to allow her to peer down at you. it takes everything in you to keep your eyes from lingering over her frame and drinking in every inch of her: the bold lines of her forearm tattoo, the burn-holes in the collar of her shirt, the faint kiss of freckles on the bridge of her nose. but while you attempt to reign in your wandering gaze, ellie doesn’t hold back. she takes her time looking you over. bites the plush, pink swell of her lower lip.
then: “what were you thinking about?”
“huh?”
“earlier, when you were touching yourself. before the vibrator died. what were you thinking about?”
“that’s your question?” you chew on the inside of your cheek. embarrassment roils in your stomach; she has to know that, while your body writhed in the center of your mattress, cunt twitching and gushing, you’d been thinking of her.
ellie smirks. “you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.”
“no, it’s… it’s okay,” you murmur. your palms are clammy and you force your gaze to Boss Lady, waiting patiently on the counter for her chance to help you see god. “i was thinking about, um… you, actually.”
you’re still staring at the gaudy pink package on the counter, hands squeezed into fists at your side. you can feel the half-moon indents of your nails digging into your palms, and just as the silence stretches a bit too long for your comfort, ellie laughs.
it’s a wicked thing, a biting sound. all self-satisfaction and enthrallment. you dare to steal a glance at her, and she’s grinning like a maniac, her cheeks tinged the prettiest shade of red.
“can i tell you something?” she asks, stuffing a hand into her pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. her fingers glide over the cash register, clicking at a few buttons, and she slides the money into each respective slot before pushing the drawer closed with a satisfying click. “i’ve been touching myself to the thought of you, too.”
mouth going dry, you gawk at ellie like she’s got four heads; she simply beams at you like she didn’t just admit that she’s thought about you with her hand between her legs. she leans over the counter, one strong hand reaching towards you to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“you seem nervous,” she says.
“i’m—i don’t…” you trail off, cheeks positively flaming.
“tell you what,” ellie begins, retracting her hand. she moves back from the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. your eyes flicker over the whorls of ink that decorate her skin, biceps flexed just so; your cunt throbs. “you can go now, if you want. i won’t stop you.”
“or,” she says, voice dipping low, husky, “you can lock that front door, and i can show you how much fun you can have with your new toy.”
she reaches a hand out and taps the box for emphasis, and you’re struck by how at ease she seems. how comfortable she is with your mutual attraction and the opportunity to act on it. it lights a fire in you, one that engulfs every last trace of doubt.
you lock the front door, of course.
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jellyfishbug · 5 months ago
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POP THE HOOD F'ME
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pairing. chris x reader genre. smut with plot. MDNI. word count [5.2k]
content; mechanic!chris, flirty!chris, smoking (they share a cig), sex with a stranger ig? semi public, car head (m recieving), face fucking, big dick chris, reader has an eyebrow piercing, use of pet names, dirty talk, swearing
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Maybe it was just dumb luck.
My dad has been promising me that his old ford pickup was gonna be mine when I got my license since I was ten. However, not long after my sixteenth birthday, he randomly decided that his promise had conditions.
I had to fix it myself.
I had been putting off working on it for years. I just didn't have the time, and it needed a lot of work. The list of things to be fixed was long, and I knew if I started then, I wouldn't have finished.
Finally, the time presented itself for me to start. I finally had a summer that wasn't so busy, so I decided in May of this year I was finally going to do it.
I was finally going to get my own truck.
So I did; I worked on it for two long months. Two long months spent in the garage on my back under the heavy pickup with my hands covered in soot and oil whilst sweat dripped down my face. Two long months spent fixing the paint job and fiddling around under the hood, my hair tied back to keep it off my neck while the sun beamed through the opened garage door.
I finally felt confident enough to take it out for a test drive today. It was starting fine in the garage, and I'd driven it around the block a number of times without fail.
I excitedly hopped in the driver's seat and shut the heavy door, jamming my keys into the ignition and grinning at the sound of the roar when the engine started. I made it pretty much across town without a single problem, and I thought I was in the clear.
So, maybe it was just dumb luck when not even an hour later, here I am, standing on the side of the road next to said pickup with the hood popped and smoke coming out of the cabin.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was dumb luck when I realized I was only three blocks away from an auto shop, and a guy pulled over to help drag my car there.
It felt like forever when we finally reached the parking lot. The red and white sign that hung over the opened garage doors read 'sturniolo's auto-repair".
For the most part, the slots were empty, except for a 58' baby blue Impala that was suspended off the ground, and a brand new silver Subaru outback that sat right next to it.
As we finally pushed it into the open slot on the far end of the garage, I let out a sigh of relief, wiping the sweat off my forehead with one hand and letting them both rest at my sides.
I thanked the stranger for his assistance and he wished me luck, mumbling about how much a repair on a truck like this was going to cost before wandering off. I scowled at him as soon as he turned away from me.
Walking away from the smokey and damaged shell of a car, I pushed open the clear glass door into the entry-way of the shop, and the sound of the ringing bells that were carefully tied at the top of the door filled my ears.
Near the desk stood two boys, both were brunettes that roughly stood at the same height. The first was wearing a red toyota nascar cap backwards over his brown hair, as well as a black tank top and a navy blue mechanic's suit that hugged his frame. The name patch on the chest of it read "Matt". He was speaking to another customer, flailing the rag around as he emphasized his points with his hands.
The other was standing behind the counter, a gray bandana tied around his head. He wore a navy blue button up that he left completely open with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, making the white tank top he wore under it visible.
The name patch on his chest read "Chris", and a white rag was thrown over his shoulder. A plethora of keys were hooked to a red carabiner that hung around the belt loop of his jeans. The desk hid his lower half below his waistline, and as I stepped closer, I saw a toothpick in between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he jotted down words on a yellow notepad with a pencil.
I slowly walked up to the desk, my arms at my sides. He didn't raise his head to look at me, he just continued writing, so I cleared my throat.
His head shot up, and his expression fell into embarrassment.
"Fuck- sorry, I didn't hear you come in. How long ‘v you been standing there?"
I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Not long, I just walked in."
A smile painted itself onto his face as he set the pencil down and put his hands in his pockets just far enough that his thumbs still stuck out. "What can i do for ya?" He asked kindly, the toothpick in his mouth moving as he spoke.
"My truck broke down three blocks ago and wouldn't start. I tried looking under the hood to see the problem, but it was smoking, so I pushed it here." I explained, my hands finding each other and clasping together at my front.
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly. "Jesus, you wheeled it all the way here?" He asked, laughing breathily when I nodded my head in response. "Atta girl. What kind of truck is it?"
"A ford pickup," I responded all too quickly, my voice strained as I tried to ignore how my heart swelled in my chest from the impressed look on his face. He nodded as he opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a ballpoint pen, picking up the notepad once again to start writing. "What year and license plate?"
"85', boston plate, the number is 289 BTO. " I watched as he wrote mindlessly, the handwriting barely coherent.
"'M kay, I'll take a look at it for you." he said, setting the notepad and pen back down on the counter. He opened his palm, gesturing for my keys, and I dropped them into his grasp. He hooked the ring that held them together around his index finger.
"Wait here, should only be a couple minutes."
I nodded as he circled around to the end of the desk, walking past me and pushing open the door to the garage.
His absence gave me a chance to examine the decor of the office space. Family and baby portraits crowded on top of the counter below the window behind the desk. A mickey mouse clock sat above the side door, and a large OPEN sign hung in the window.
The wall was crowded with plates and signs. One that caught my eye was an eagle with its claws digging into a hanging mirror, the name HARLEY DAVIDSON displayed in bright orange letters above the eagle's head. Next to the register was a small bell with a sign that said "ring for service" and the words 'don't actually' were scribbled in sharpie above.
Just when I was getting lost in thought, I heard the door bells jingle a second time, and Chris walked back in. The rag was now hanging loosely in his palm as he approached the counter. He stood right next to me, reaching over for the notepad and throwing the rag back over his now bare shoulder, which is when I realized he had discarded his button up. My eyes dart down to see the keys to my truck now hanging on a different belt loop on his jeans.
"From what I can see," he starts, popping the cap of the pen off and leaving it in between his teeth as he spoke. "It looks like a coolant leak. The combination from the antifreeze leaking and the heat of the engine is enough to make it smoke, but it's not enough to cause the engine freeze up." he explains, his eyes meeting mine every couple of words to make sure i understand. "So, it could also be a fuel pump problem combined with the leak."
I nodded, chewing my lip nervously as he went on to explain the time the repair would take as well as the cost. When the words, "not finished until at least tomorrow" left his lips, I huffed in defeat, and tried to make my disappointment less evident as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.
"How long have you had it?" He asked, now leaning against the counter next to us with one elbow, crossing one foot over the other.
"I've only started to work on it this summer, but it's been my dads since before i was born."
He nodded. "It's a pretty ride," he confessed. "I honestly expected it to look worse when you said 85', but the conditions not bad. You been workin' on it a lot?"
"As much as I can." I shrugged.
He complimented the paint job, to which i confessed i'd done it, and he gushed. "Christ, you should work here. Matt can't paint to save his life. You could probably get him out of a job,"
Matt sent a glare his way. "Shut up, kid. Dad would fire you over me any day, especially if you keep sleeping in."
Chris laughed, a genuine sound that made Matt's glare turn into a small smile before he went back to rifling through the file cabinet.
He turned back to me, pausing to look back over the notes he'd written down. "If i had to guess, I'd say we can probably have it to you by tomorrow evening." he said, looking away from the paper and averting his gaze to instead look me right in the eye. "That work for you?"
I nodded slowly. Suddenly, the issue of a ride home became extremely apparent, and an anxious feeling started to blossom in my chest.
"Good. Just one more thing. . ." he pauses to take the pen cap out of his mouth and place it back on the pen, tapping it against the curve of his hand and grinning wildly at me.
"i'm gonna need your number to let you know when its finished."
He's just asking because he's supposed to; because he literally has to in order for me to get my car back. But regardless, i felt heat rise to my cheeks as i started shifting uncomfortably in place.
"Right," I said, moving to reach for the pen. He points to a blank part of the notepad, tapping lightly to tell me where to write it.
Quickly and shakily, i write out the numbers with dashes. I hand it back to him, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He rips the sheet off the notepad in one swift motion and folds it in half, placing it in his back pocket.
He glances towards the clock. Its nearing seven. He turns back to me, "d'you have a ride home?"
My eyes went wide. I'm reminded of my attempt to call my dad three times when the truck initially broke down, and how my shoulders slumped in defeat at the sound of his voicemail playing repeatedly.
I glance back over to him, ". . . Not exactly. I'll probably just catch the bu-"
"I can drive you,"
I swallowed, my lips slightly parted in surprise. His grin was still wide, awaiting my response.
It was a sweet offer, really. But considering my house was across town, partnered with the fact that he was literally on the job, i shook my head. "That's really sweet, thank you, but I'm far. And you're working, anyway." He shrugs, glancing at the clock once more. "It's fine, Matt's on desk duty and he's closing tonight. I don't mind."
I chew my lip. I'd be stupid to pass up on a ride, but i barely know this kid, and if my dad sees me rolling up with him and no truck, it wouldn't look great.
And then I think about the hour long bus ride that would be in the near future if I declined.
I screw my eyes shut. "You know what? Why not."
Despite the scenario i was in, my mind was pushing out any and all nerves as I watched Chris collect his things from behind the desk. He pulled his wallet, shop keys and jacket out of a cubby.
The two of us walked back into the garage and over to Matt, who was washing his hands in a sink bellow the tool shelves.
Chris bid goodbye to his brother, who looked at the clock and then frowned, turning the faucet off and reaching for the roll of papers towels.
"You're seriously slacking off? I already covered for you and Nate leaving early last weekend." He complained, discarding the wad of paper towels he'd used to dry his hands into the trash bin below.
Chris shot him a look. "And then i covered your sunday morning shift because you were hungover. You owe me."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put your tools away when you open tomorrow. It drives me fucking insane when you leave them everywhere."
Chris salutes. "Roger that." He turned to me and winked, gesturing to follow him through the garage with a tilt of his head.
I followed behind him as he went out a different exit; this one leading to a parking lot on the back of the building. A large EMPLOYEE PARKING sign hung on the fence near the driveway.
He fiddled with the many keys on his carabiner before finally finding his and walking towards a car near the opening in the gate.
A blue, four-seater, convertible 65' mustang. The light from the setting sun literally reflected off of it. He mindlessly stuck the key into the passenger side door, twisting and pulling it open with a faint click.
He gestured his hand towards the seat playfully, "Ladies first."
I rolled my eyes, placing one foot on the floor of the car and ducking my head to sit down. "How gentlemanly of you,"
He grinned at me, closing the door and walking around the back of the car before popping into the driver's seat.
"This is.. wow." I mutter, admiring the small details and cleanliness of the car as he closed his door and threw his belongings in the back. "Jesus, this is yours?"
He smiled proudly, his tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip. "All mine,"
His fingers twisted the key into the ignition and the roar of the engine made the car buzz against my feet. He rolled both of our windows down, the summer air blowing smoothly through the car.
His smile was wider and prouder than ever as he glanced into the rear view mirror, throwing an arm over the back of my seat to glance behind him as he reversed. We pulled out of the parking lot and turned left onto the main road, Chris letting the steering wheel slide back into place under his palm by itself once he'd done so.
"You said you were far," he mumbled. "What area are you in?"
The question pulled me back into reality. I'd gotten so distracted by the way he drove so carelessly, like he was completely relaxed and in control of everything movement the car made, like fear didn't even exist to him as he pressed harder onto the gas pedal with his foot, my eyes choosing to ignore the way the tic on the speed meter start to spike.
His jawline was illuminated in the dim light, and the toothpick that was still resting on his lips stayed moving as he spoke gently, waiting patiently for me to answer.
I started giving him directions, and he listened carefully and intently, glancing over to look at me to make sure he understood my instructions. Once we were on the freeway, he went even faster, lane switching if someone in front of him wasn't going as fast as he'd like them to.
Soft giggles left me as he did, basking in the view of his lips parted into a smile, showcasing pearly teeth between pink lips.
Once he pulled onto the off ramp and we were stopped at a red light, he turned to look at me again, the bright red turning the car a faint shade of crimson.
"What time do you need to be back?"
He asked with a tone of voice he hadn't used till now. The sudden lowness caught me off guard as I shrugged, "'Dunno, not for a while."
He hummed in acknowledgement. "You wanna stay on the road for a bit?"
I pull my knees up to my chest and let my head fall against the headrest, a careless smile on my face. "Definitely."
And we did; we ended up back on the highway pretty quickly, blasting music through a speaker Chris had propped against the dashboard.
His speed only got higher and higher as time went on, carelessly resting one hand on the wheel whilst the other gripped the gear shift. At some point, his hand had mindlessly traveled to rest on my upper bare thigh below the hem of my shorts, cold and partially ringed fingers pressing against my skin.
"Will you do me a favor?"
I raised my eyebrows and hummed in response. He gestured towards the glove box. "Theres a pack of camel blue 99s in the glove box, would you grab em for me?"
I bit my lip. "Depends, you sharing?"
"Duh."
I leaned forward, feeling my stomach flip when his hand didn't much as move an inch on my thigh, brushing against my lower stomach as I lurched forward to fiddle with the glovebox.
I propped it open and grabbed the pack and paused, "d'you have a light?"
He nodded. "Should be one in there."
I learned more forward and reached farther back, glancing around before locking my eyes on a silver flip top lighter and grabbing it. Once i lean back up, Chris is pulling into an empty lot. His hand leaves my leg to push the gear into park, and i try not to frown.
I flick the top of the cig carton open and hastily pull one out, dropping it into Chris's palm.
He places it hazardly between his lips and turns to face me, silently asking for me to light it.
I pop the lid of the zippo open and hold the flam to the end of his cig, waiting to pull away until his expression signifies that its lit enough. His expression relaxes as he breathes in before pulling it away from his mouth with two fingers and exhaling, the smoke filling the car.
"If I'm honest, I prefer marlboro reds." I say quietly in an attempt to break the silence, watching Chris flick the ash out the window lazily with his thumb and index finger. He shakes his head. "Camels are undeniably better."
I laugh lightly and raise my eyebrows in amusement. "No accounting for taste, I suppose."
He takes another drag before holding it in between his fingers in front of my face, and Instead of reaching for it, I place my lips around the filter while it's still in his hand. Our eyes lock while I breath in sharper, the cool feel of the smoke filling my chest.
He licks his lips, and for a moment, his eyes dart down to look at mine, and he's starts he's studying my face. I'm doing the same.
His eyes are bright blue, surrounded by thick lashes, which are barely visible with stray pieces of his hair hanging down below the bandana on his head. Freckles lightly paint his noise, and his pink lips are slightly parted as his eyes scan my face.
"I like your piercing," he finally says, pressing his one hand to his eyebrow as if he had one himself. I breathe out the smoke i'd been holding in my lungs and smile at him. He's still looking at it as he speaks again, "Did it hurt?"
I shrug. "Not really," Because it didn't, but also because I'd feel like an idiot saying it did. "Just a pinch."
He nodded slowly. "Hm."
I take another hit from the cig which he's still holding up to my lips. Our faces are closer now. One of my elbows is resting on the center console as I look at him through my lashes.
"You should get one." I say.
He laughs, breathy and genuine. "Yeah? You think so?"
"Mhm," i reach my hand up to graze above his eye with two fingers. "It would look good on you." He watches my movements. "We'd match, too."
He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, finally moving the cig back to his own lips and taking one more long drag before carelessly discarding it out the window.
All too quick, he's facing me again, and he leans even closer. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, and a part of me thinks he can hear it.
Before I can even blink, he places his fingers on my chin and tilts his head, smashing his lips against mine hard.
Its all teeth at first, clashing messily as his hand leaves my chin and rests as the base of my neck. My hands are on his face, my fingers messing with the curls at the back of his neck while he grins against my lips.
He lightly bites my bottom lip, taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like cherry and camels, and I feel myself whimpering at the contact.
"Fuck," he mumbles into my mouth, and his tone is exasperated, partly because the console between us is making it harder for him to kiss me like he wants to, and partly because his attempts to pull me close enough for our chests to press together have been unsuccessful.
His hands reach down to tug at the belt loops of my shorts, trying to pull me onto his lap. I pull away for a second to push myself over the console, Chris's grip on my hips staying firm to assist me. I duck to avoid hitting my head on the roof of the car, and Chris giggles lowly.
I finally relax once I'm comfortable in his lap, straddling his legs below me. One of his hands is across my lower half, sliding his hand into my back pocket, and the other rests in the middle of my back, holding me in place.
We're kissing again, and this time it's more lips and tongue then teeth, but he's still lightly tugging at my lip.
I'm tugging at his hair as I push myself closer to his lower abdomen, pressing down, which elicits a groan from him. He pulls away from me, and I try to follow his lips with a whine, but he tugs at the back of my hair lightly so he can press kisses from my jaw down to my neck.
I'm already whimpering as soon as his teeth press against my throat, and he digs them deep, kissing the mark once he's satisfied with the shade of purple its turned before finding a different spot to do the same thing.
"Chris, fuck- please."
I can feel him below me, and it's making me crazy. He doesn't budge, even as I continue to whine breathlessly at him.
He only grins as he continues to nip at my skin, and i felt the smirk on his face against my throat. I tangle my fingers in his hair and tug as a silent plea. "What s' it, baby?"
Baby.
I practically keen at the nickname. He finally pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to his previous spot on my neck. He grins proudly at the marks he's left before looking at me again.
"What d'you want?" his tone is cocky and assertive. His lips look red and bitten, and I start to feel embarrassed at the fact that we were sucking face so lewdly in a literal parking lot.
I want to squirm and writhe away under his gaze, but his knuckle tight grip on me won't let me. I fiddle with the neck of his shirt and avoid looking at him as i whisper, "I need you."
He grins madly. "How d'you need me, sweetheart?"
I lean forward and press my lips back against his, and he entertains for a little before tugging my hair lightly to pull me back. His fingers grip my chin, holding me in place to look at him.
"Tell me what you want."
I brush my hand against his belt buckle. "I wanna suck you off,"
It came out in a mumble, but he understood, nodding somewhat cockily with a shit-eating grin on his lips. A groan left him as he tugged me even closer so our chests were pressed together. "Yeah?"
I nod eagerly, another 'please' ready to escape my mouth as my impatience grows. He ducks his hand between the seat and the door to push it farther back, "On your knees, then."
I obliged immediately, sliding off his lap to rest on my knees below him. My elbows rest on either side of his legs as my hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it and tugging at his jeans and boxers.
He lifted his hips lightly to assist me. I pulled them down until they rested around his ankles, and I feel myself gawk.
He's big. Bigger then I expected.
A nervous feeling bubbles in the pit of my stomach, but the way he's looking down at me through hazy vision makes it vanish even quicker, and I wrap my hands around his length.
"You okay?" He asks, moving his hand to rest on my cheek, his thumb soothingly pressed on my temple.
"No- yeah, i'm good." I breathe. I hover myself over him, finally taking him into my mouth. A string of curses leave him in a hushed breath, and his head moves to rest at the back of my head to coax me farther down.
I pull back slightly, wrapping my lips around his tip and sucking lightly. His chest is rising and falling quickly above me, and his labored breathing is music to my ears.
His cock is heavy on my tongue, and its addicting. I take him farther down my throat, hollowing my cheeks to fit as much of him as i can while my hand is in a fist around his base. I bob my head and twist my hand, looking up at him to see his flushed face as he pants.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this." He babbles, a throaty moan leaving him when I twist my hand faster, swirling my tongue along his cock as my head rises and falls.
I hum around his dick at the compliment, the slight sting on my scalp from him pulling my hair only pushing me to do more. He pushes me down slightly, and i choke at the burn of his tip making contact with my uvula.
I moan loudly on him at the feeling, tears building in my eyes as the vibration from the noises i'm making cause him to throw his head back, a blissed out expression on his face. "Fuck, so good. Just like that, god."
Drool seeps from the corners of my mouth as I speed up all my movements. Chris is a breathy, moaning mess above me, watching me through lidded eyes as I glance up at him.
He moves his other hand to rest on the side of my face, grinning at my fucked out appearance. "Fucking filthy girl, aren't you, baby." He says through gritted teeth. "You love this, don't you?"
I whine at him, furrowing my eyebrows in pleasure to say "yes', and watching as his eyes roll lightly back in his head when i start to suck lightly at his tip again.
My hand falls from his base to lay on his leg, the other holding the bottom of his shirt in my fist. I try to push my head farther down, whimpering faintly at the stretch.
Chris's hips jerk up lightly at the sensation, causing him to push himself down my throat until my lips hit the base. I start to choke, but I breathe heavily through my nose, screwing my eyes shut and hallowing my cheeks out to stop myself from pulling off.
"Fuck!" he grunts loudly, his grip on my hair turning animalistic. He mindlessly mutters out curses and praise as he pushes my head up and down with his hands, 'good girl', 'don't stop', 'takin' me so good, baby' 'just like that' . . .
My hands are resting completely at his sides as he guides my mouth on his cock, slightly bucking his hips to push himself as far as I can take him. His strokes turn sloppy, and I look up at him again to see him looking at me with a broken glance, bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuck, gonna cum," he gasps.
I begin to swirl my tongue around him, moaning messily on him as if to say, 'in my mouth, please', but he's already reading my mind, digging his nails into my scalp as he spurts coats of white down my throat, an incoherent string of "fuck fuck fuck"'s spilling out of him. Im swallowing as quickly as i can.
I pull off of him with a lewd pop, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I know i look completely ruined, but I'm still focused on catching my breath and looking at Chris's flushed pink face above me.
His hand rests on my face again, and his thumb soothingly rubs my cheek. "You okay? Was that too much?" he asks, his expression full of concern as he wipes the tears from under my eyes.
I smile, leaning into his touch. "I'm good, it was really good."
He nods, smiling dumbly. "Good."
He pulls his jeans and boxers back up, bucking his belt before pulling me off my knees and back onto his lap. He presses a soft, passionate kiss on my lips, and then trails kisses down the side of my face, pulling my hair back off my shoulders as we both catch our breath.
We're both startled by the loud ringing of my phone in the passenger seat. I reach over the console, sighing in relief when i flip it over and see my dad's name at the top of my screen.
I put the phone up to my ear, watching as Chris rubs circles into my side with his cold fingers.
"Hi," I breath out. I listen as my dad apologizes for not answering earlier. He tells me he heard my voicemail and asks if I'm okay. "M' fine, I just wheeled it to a shop a couple blocks over. I'm on the bus home now, should only be a bit."
Chris pouts at me, and i roll my eyes at him. My dad talks for a couple for seconds before hanging up, and i leave my phone in the drink compartment next to Chris's forgotten lighter.
"D'you need to get home?" He asked. I nodded, and he frowns. "I was gonna get you off in the backseat,"
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part two? :)
thank you for reading! reblogs are DEEPLY appreciated. I hope you enjoyed. links below !
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fictionalsweethearts · 8 days ago
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THE COMMISSION PT. 4 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE
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'The Commission' series: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, epilogue.
Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.
Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw, nsfw, smut, fingering omgg
If you're underage, be responsible and don't consume smut content. I AIN'T YOUR MAMA TO SPANK YOUR ASS.
Word count: 5,384 (yes, things HAPPEN in this chapter)
Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!
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Two years earlier
"I'm fine." Sevika murmured, in a tone that could scare anyone away. Except you.
Third day in a row you slept in Zaun's main square, you were cold and your stomach was asking for a more substantial dish than the cookies you could afford. You smelled of street, oil and rain, you were risking everything to get some money and sleep under a roof today.
Many warned you about Sevika, it was better not to mess with her or even show your nose, unless you were proposing a card game, a business or you were a lady-in-waiting. You were none of the three, but you trusted what your hands and your tools were capable of. You held the toolbox, keeping an upright posture even though inside you feared ending up in a dumpster or bleeding to death in the middle of the Last Drop.
"Your arm seems to need a checkup." You insisted. "I know the model, I assume you've had it for about five years, yeah?"
Sevika frowned, putting down the cards and letting out a puff of smoke. She didn't look convinced, more irritated. You insisted.
"I don't charge much."
Sevika flicked her eyes up and down your form, her expression stern. She had seen you before - a street rat, hanging around the less salubrious parts of the city. You were skinny, dirty, and reeked of poverty. You had no business approaching her, let alone with such audacity.
"And what makes you think you can fix it?” she scowled, her voice as harsh as sandpaper. "You some kind of mechanic?”
"Yes." you said, noticing the way Sevika was studying you. You couldn't call her out, you had to swallow your pride in order to swallow a decdent meal later, if everything goes right. "I used to work at Benzo's pawn shop, fixing unused appliances. I brought fine pieces back to life." you said, your eyes flickering to Sevika's mechanic arm. "Like yours."
Certainly Sevika was not pleased with your audacity, she was forced to answer for Silco to idiots, drug addicts, gang members and murderers, so you were just another one to add to the list.
"Used to?" she grunted, her eyes narrowing as she took another drag on her cigarette. "What, you get fired or something?"
"He's dead." you reminded her, knowing damn well Silco's goons were behind that.
Yes, you were bretraying yourself and your past by turning to Sevika to offer your services, but your situation wasn't getting any better. Not with a dead father, an absent mother, and debts to deal with. You should have known better, gambling leads to no good, neither does the air of Zaun. You fell victim to both, the first killed your father, the second probably killed your mother, you weren't sure. And the debt collectors were breathing down your neck.
She eyed you for a moment longer, her gaze weighing your worth. You were desperate, that much was obvious. And she couldn't help but see an opportunity in that. "Alright," she grunted, her voice gruff. "Let's say I let you take a look. What's it gonna cost me?"
You huffed, you were losing dignity there. "A meal." you shrugged. "And a sip of whiskey if you're feeling generous. But I assure you, I do a fine job."
"You'll get your meal and your shot of whiskey," she grumbled, knwoing she would regret giving you a chance. "But if you don't do a damn good job, I'll rip your pretty little head off."
"My head will stay above my shoulders..." you stated. "And your arm, brand new." you added.
Sevika raised her eyebrows, giving the guard a signal to let you come over and take a seat next to her on the couch. You had little time to prove that your offer was not talk but fact. You opened the toolbox, taking out a screwdriver to begin taking apart the arm and separating the pieces. The supply of Shimmer on top seemed novel, but predictable. You knew what to do
As you progressed with your work, Sevika's first impression about you began to crumble. Beneath the hollow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes was a beautiful girl intent on her task, with attentive eyes, deft fingers, and latent confidence. The woman then began to ask questions, hoping to intimidate you.
"How old are you, anyway?"
"Twenty-six."
"So young, and already out on the streets?" she grunted, her voice carrying a hint of mockery. "What, your parents throw you out or something?"
"They're dead." you mumbled. Sevika was holding her card with her flesh hand, still gambling while you were attending her prosthetic arm.
Your confession did not move her, having parents alive and present in Zaun was a privilege. However, her curiosity only increased. "Orphan?"
"You could say so." you said, glancing at the disassembled parts, studying the system of Sevika’s arm. The thermal paste needed changing, luckily you had some on you, the seals needed oil too, and some of the gears could use replacing.
"So you're just a street rat then," she said bluntly. "No family, no friends, nowhere to call home."
"Rat." you huffed. "I'm prettier than that." you might have been hungry, skinny and dirty, but you were a lot smarter and prettier than a goddamn rat.
"Maybe," she smirked. "But you still smell worse than one."
As Sevika took the time to mock you, your eyes were split between the arm and the opponents' play. You were sure that Sevika was taking a big risk by continuing to allow the cuprier to keep adding cards to the deck. "Stand," you whispered. "You're too close."
Sevika raised her eyebrow, planning to ignore you, however your comment didn't seem to be wrong. She let out a sigh before raising her hand to the cuprier. With that, the man turned over his cards. "Seventeen." The man said, to which you looked with pleased eyes at Sevika's nineteen.
"Agh, for fuck's sake." groaned one of the opponents, losing the bet. Blackjack was quite unpredictable, but you advised Sevika well; she hit the jackpot.
She chuckled, turning to look at you with a mix of surprise and respect. "Well then, not bad," she said, her voice gruff but impressed. "You really know your stuff."
"The rat's useful." you mumbled. "I have a name, though."
"I haven't asked your name." she replied, as she placed her just won chips on the pile.
"I rather you to remember the quality of my work than my name." you stated, assembling the arm back on Sevika. You turned the last screws, applied oil to the parts, and finally inserted the supply of Shimmer into the shoulder compartment, clicking your tongue. "Set and done, miss."
As the arm connected to her system, Sevika immediately noticed the fluidity of the gears and the restored sensitivity of the metal fingers. She flexed her arm and stretched it out, looking at you with a half-smile. It was all she would give you, along with an, "And here I thought I would rip your head off."
Before you could accept the praise wholeheartedly, there was this sudden commotion in the club. Another bastard too immersed in Shimmer to contain himself had entered, knocking out the guards with just the touch of a hand, and actually, knocking down everything in his path.
Fuck.
Sevika tensed, eyes flickering to the situation. She recognized the signs of a Shimmer-induced maniac, and knew damn well the trouble that could follow.
"Gods," she growled under her breath. "Not this bastard again."
Sevika quickly rose from her seat, her eyes watching the Shimmer-fueled maniac with a steely glare. It was only a matter of time before he would turn his attention to the rest of the bar, and Sevika knew she had to act fast. One of the other players had already fled, hiding behind the wall near the bar. The other stood frozen in fear, unable to speak or move. But you remained calm, your eyes on Sevika, awaiting her next move.
Sevika looked more irritated than alert, she moved her mechanical arm and walked towards the purple beast in front of her, her bearing filling the entire place, her confidence latent. You watched the fight unfold with a smile, the arm worked like a charm and there was no denying that you did a great job, especially when Sevika pulled the opponent’s leg against her and her elbow landed on the knee joint, bending the limb at an unnatural angle, followed by a punch capable of sending him flying through the air and landing in front of the bar. You drank from her glass, watching the guards carry the unconscious opponent away and Sevika letting out a sigh. The music began playing again.
Sevika raised an eyebrow, and by then you had realized that it was a habit of hers, and before scolding you for your attitude and your audacity in drinking from her glass, the woman called for the waiter. "Bring the girl dinner, and a glass of whiskey." she mumbled.
"I like it with soda," you added, smiling pleased from the couch.
Sevika rolled her eyes. "With soda," she said.
When you had already filled your stomach and calmed your nerves with a good whiskey, Sevika reappeared through the door. She had disappeared during your dinner, but returned to the room with a small bag of coins between her fingers and a less cold look than before; you could read the ambition on her face.
"For the arm repair," Sevika said, placing the pouch next to you on the table. To it, she added a small card with an address and the Silco symbol on the bottom, known as the "Eye of Zaun."
You knew that card was your golden ticket.
"This..." she said lowly. "Is a way to keep yourself fed and off the streets, if you're interested."
As you nodded, Sevika leaned in to whisper in a tone that made you shudder. Her scent of tobacco wafted into your nose, her closeness overwhelming. "Report to this address tomorrow at 8. Not a single minute later. We'll talk business when the time comes."
"Yes, ma'am." you said, making Sevika grin.
"Sevika." she said. "I am not into formality."
With that, she walked away, leaving you with a job opportunity and a pouch full of coins.
You did it. You fucking did it.
And tomorrow you would prove that your actions weren't just talk but pure merit. You counted the coins, it was enough for a hotel room and half of what you owed Horner. You smiled, he's always been good faking a Shimmer overdose.
As the days went by, you went from rat to girl. You met Silco, you closed a deal for private services to the organization, you took care of the maintenance of machinery, clothing and weapons. You were a full-time worker, you spent your hours within the four walls of the workshop, living off of coffee, bread, fruit and whiskey. Sevika watched you from the beginning, it was the task that Silco had entrusted to her; "Keep an eye on the girl, make her work and keep her mouth shut."
And that's what you did.
When the time came, you went from girl to mechanic. The workshop was not only your workplace, but your temple. Silco allowed you to accept external orders, you began to build a business that not only gave you autonomy, but also colored your cheeks, filled out your muscles and gave you the beauty that poverty had taken from you.
It was then that you went from mechanic to sweetheart. And Sevika forced herself to keep her distance, but the numerous appointments to check her arm, the jokes, the glances and the talks had loosened this armor against you. Now you ate full dinners, steaks, roasted vegetables, drank lemonade and replaced coffee with Shimmer, with Sevika as your only provider.
That was her mistake.
She thought she had done you a favor by providing you the doses. You worked better, your efficiency was through the roof, your performance impeccable. But that night, seeing you unconscious on the floor of her office, surrounded by paramedics and pale as snow, Sevika knew that you ended up like this because of her.
Her fault. Her damn fault.
"You've allowed this." said Silco, dragging from his cigar. He seemed quite unbothered by the situation, considering your incident as another problematic worker that couldn't control herself. All businesses have causalities, however, this wasn't just any. "She wasn't supposed to be at your office."
Your inert eyes, the way your body lay languid, a purple substance coming out of the corner of your mouth as if your insides were melting, the paramedics trying to revive a being whose life was hanging by a thread. It was a nightmare.
"She's dead." The paramedic said.
Dead.
Dead.
You died for her.
Because of her.
"Ah!" Sevika sat up suddenly, a drop of sweat wetting the back of her neck when her eyes landed on the halo of moonlight that was leaking through the window. She had dreamed of the accident again.
She wiped the sweat from her neck with a quick gesture and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Just a dream, she told herself, just a damn dream.
Sevika didn't even stop to put her mechanical arm on, which was resting next to her bed, but left the room at a quick pace and uncovered your sleeping figure on the living room couch.
You were fine.
You were curled up on the couch, your bandaged wrist resting next to your face, serene and calm. Your breathing reminded Sevika that you were still alive, even though you threatened to die on the old wooden floor of her office a month ago. But you were too stubborn to die from an overdose. You shifted in your spot, the breeze biting at your skin in the absence of the blanket over you, and when you opened your eyes you found the immense silhouette of Sevika before you. You screamed.
Sevika winced at your sharp cry, her hand reaching out instinctively to cover your mouth, to silence the sound before it echoed through the apartment.
"Shhh!" she hissed, her eyes darting towards the main door. The last thing she needed was for someone to think she was murdering someone in there.
"Quiet, quiet," she whispered, her hand still firmly over your mouth. "You'll wake the whole damn block with that shrieking."
Your heart skipped a beat before connecting two coherent thoughts and realizing it was Sevika. The woman pulled her hand away. "Fuck, don't stand in front of me like that again," you gasped. "I thought it was the grim reaper."
She took a step back, giving you some breathing room. "Believe me, he must have more important things to attend to," she said, her voice still low. "Just came to check on you. Didn't mean to scare you like that."
You sat up, reaching out to turn the oil lamp on. Sevika was still on her tank top and boxers, it was unusual to see her without the prosthetic arm. "I'm fine." you said. "You could've came to check in the morning, damn... what time it is?" you asked.
It's three," she replied, her tone still hushed. "Go back to sleep, girl. I just... wanted to make sure you were alright."
The lamplight outlined Sevika's silhouette, you could see the sweat on her neck and a certain pallor on her face. You assumed it was another nightmare, you already knew about them, but you avoided bringing them up because every time you did, she would shut you up with an "I'm fine, girl, go to sleep."
You watched her walk towards the balcony, a pack of cigarettes in her hand and a deep sigh leaving her lips. When she had the cigarette between her lips, you were suddenly beside her, lighting it up. “What’s really going on?” you asked.
"Can't a woman just enjoy her smoke in peace?" she grumbled, taking a drag from the cigarette. But there was no real malice in her voice, just a touch of weariness. She leaned against the balcony railing, the metal cool beneath her bare arm.
You sighed, coming up against a wall again. Sevika was impenetrable, so much so that you didn't know what was going through her mind unless she said it, and you could certainly assume it had to do with her nightmares, but you didn't dare to intrude on her fears. Still, you stayed next to her on the balcony, your stomach aching as the first sign of withdrawal.
The first few days were atrocious, you trembled and vomited every hour, you believed that dying was more pleasant than enduring such nausea and fits of anger and pain. However, Sevika stood firm by your side, brought you to her apartment and such a nurse, kept track of your symptoms and silenced them with the medicines the doctor had prescribed you. More than once, she stayed next to you on the couch, talking to you about trivialities or reading a book until the sleeping pill took effect and you could sleep. Only then did Sevika allow herself to stroke your forehead and relive the guilt of the accident.
Sevika had lived long enough to witness the effects of Shimmer on people. It didn't just destroy wills, it destroyed bodies and minds. The mutations from overuse of Shimmer were morbid and grotesque, luckily you didn't experience any, but that didn't make seeing you on the office floor, languid, pale, with your eyes open any less terrifying. Silco saw Sevika lose her temper for the first time in his life.
"I shouldn't have let you take those doses," she finally muttered, the words coming out with a hint of gravel in her voice. "I should've found a different way. This..." she gestured to you, the signs of her failure still lingering in the bags under your eyes and the scars along your arms, "...this is on me. My fault."
So that's what it was all about; guilt. Sevika had learned to take the blame for other people, to take responsibility for other people's mistakes, and this time was no different. Yes, she made a mistake by giving you doses of Shimmer for two years, but you were the one who decided to relapse. And you took all the blame. "Nobody forced me to relapse that day, Sevika." you stated. "And nobody could've stopped me neither, not even you."
For a moment, she was quiet, mulling over your words, the smoke from her cigarette spiraling up into the night air.
“You shouldn’t be the one consoling me, girl,” she said finally, the vulnerability in her tone betraying her gruff exterior. “I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”
"We both know that a worker isn't taken care of the way you take care of me," you stated, your words implying more than what they said.
"You've never been a mere worker for me," she stated, letting out a puff of smoke, moving away into the air. Zaun was quiet, as if the city had stopped the day you nearly died. "Sometimes I can't stand you, you don't know when to back off."
You reached for her cigarette, taking a drag. "I never learned to back off."
“Of course, you didn’t,” she said, a note of resignation in her voice. “You’re as stubborn as they come. Should’ve known from the beginning that I’d have my hands full with you.”
And here you were, two years later, sleeping on her couch and making her coffee in the mornings, refusing to die without proving once again that you are many things, but not a street rat.
You had already settled into a routine. Sevika would leave early in the morning, usually returning at noon to check on you. You always waited for her with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, you started adding a touch of whiskey when you realized she liked it. You used to keep the apartment clean, read the books Sevika kept, play with her cards and sometimes take out your tools and make crafts or repair unused items, even though Sevika had forbidden you to work until you had recovered.
"Your recovery comes first, girl. Go easy."
Sometimes you found yourself chatting with her on the balcony, taking drags from her cigarette and oiling her mechanical arm, before daring to ask how her day was, absorbing her worries and whispering a "you always put up with too much, Sev" afterwads, only for her to shrug and light another cigarette. Being her tenant had allowed you to see Sevika in a much more intimate setting, without the need to maintain the impenetrable facade. You watched her sleep, yawn, train, and even cook; your favorite was the mushroom stew with enhacium powder. It was quite the meal, always leaving you with a heavy stomach and a pleasant drowsiness, although your tongue took the brunt of the sting of the powder. Sevika could feel you starting to itch as your cheeks colored, and with a smile, she would hand you the lemonade.
You were embarrassed to admit it, even more so considering that the overdose could have killed you, but you were grateful that circumstances led you to live with Sevika. Sometimes you wished you had done it sooner, but you remembered the way she reacted when you woke up in the hospital and regretted it.
"Don't you ever do that to me again, girl, understood? Never again." she said, agitated, holding your hand in hers.
You could never apologize enough to take the blame off Sevika's chest, so you just limited yourself to being a good roommate.
"Would you mind helping me with the painkiller?" you asked then, placing the cigarette between Sevika's lips. Despite having started the methadone treatment more than a month ago, it still gave you the shivers to handle the syringe.
"Of course," she said simply, her voice a mix of gruffness and understanding. "Let me do it."
You two sat down on the couch, Sevika holding the cigarette between her lips as she wrapped the elastic around your arm and tightened it. You didn’t admit it out loud, but ever since you’d been staying at Sevika’s apartment, your favorite time of day was when she helped you with the methadone. You loved the way her eyes focused on you, her thumb gently searching for your vein, commanding you to close your fist, then after piercing your skin, whispering “there you go,” pulling the needle back out before caressing the mark with her finger and purring “good girl.” She made you feel special, you were pampered by a woman who didn’t pamper anyone, and it was exhilarating in the most unusual way.
You thought you could take a thousand injections if it meant continuing to be Sevika’s good girl.
"Easy as pie," she said, her voice a rough whisper. "No pain, no drama." she added, disposing of the syringe in the trash can.
You watched her put out her cigarette in the ashtray, expecting her to sit next to you and wait for you to fall asleep like she always did. You had gotten used to hearing her voice by now. Just then, the first hit of the drug bathed you. It was always the strongest, however after a few weeks, the dose had decreased and only gave you a pleasant drowsiness.
"You're getting sleepy." she said. "Good."
Sevika watched as your eyelids fluttered shut, your body slumping back against the couch. The drug had done its work, a gentle drowsiness seeping into your limbs and calming your nerves. You felt an arm wrap around your waist, Sevika lifted you over her shoulder and carefully carried you to her bed. "It's too damn cold in the living room," was her excuse, even though you didn't ask for one. The bed was still warm, wide and the sheets smooth. Sevika wasn't lying when she said she prefers her whiskey neat and her bed soft.
She turned off the lamp, snuggling up to you, keeping a prudent distance that at the moment seemed ridiculous to you. "Do I scare you?" you teased her.
"Scare me?" she huffed. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Come closer then." you said, pushing your luck just enough. And Sevika seemed to give in.
You rested your head on her chest, allowing yourself to inhale her scent and feel the beat of her heart; it was slow, imposing, just like her. Sevika frowned, ignoring the urge to bury her nose in your hair and entwine her legs with yours. You heard her sigh, you were dozing off by then. "Rest, girl, you need it."
Sevika wasn’t the best early riser, but she woke up in a better mood that morning. A hand around your waist, her nose on your neck as if your scent alone had calmed all her nightmares, and it did. You were still asleep, comfortable and serene while she spooned you, unaware that Sevika pulled you close to her, taking in your cleavage from where she was; your shirt had shifted in the night, revealing more of your skin.
Look away, Sevika, get a grip.
Sevika sighed against your neck, knowing she was treading unfamiliar and inappropriate territory, but she couldn't help it. Her hand found the edge of your tank top, pulling it down just to reveal your breasts; smooth, tender and full.
No, she shouldn't, but... she wanted to? Absolutely.
Her lips found the sensitive area of your neck, trailing kisses and nips down to your shoulders and collarbone, daring to squeeze one of your tits between her fingers. You shifted on your place, the air biting on your bare chest managed to draw your attention and Sevika pulled her hands off, as if she was spooked of herself.
What the hell am I doing?
"Mhm..." you uttered, your hand seeking for Sevika's, bringing it back towards your chest. "Don't stop." you whispered, your eyes still closed.
Sevika gulped, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her body as she reached out again, catching your breast between her fingers and massaging it gently, peppering kisses down your neck, your cheek, your shoulder. You felt her abdomen press harder against your back, you shifted your ass against her, half asleep but perfectly aware of what was happening, and you wouldn’t let her stop.
She grunted against your neck, her hand squeezing harder your breast. "Don't move," she growled softly, her breath hot against your ear. "Stay just like this."
You moaned, your hand reaching her cheek, urging her to touch you, to kiss you. Your eyes fluttered open as she ran her hand down your stomach, teasing your lower belly, down to your legs, the inner side of your thighs. "Sev..." you purred.
"I'm here," she whispered against your ear. "I've got you."
"Shit." you whimpered, your eyes shutting once she slipped her hand into your shorts, settling between your legs. That's all you needed to fully wake up. "Ah, god." you panted, feeling her fingers against your slick.
"You're so wet for me, aren't you?" she breathed against your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine. She pressed kisses along your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "Yes, you are."
As much confidence Sevika showed, the truth was that inside she was shaking with fear. She was crossing a line she had imposed on herself when she met you two years ago, and she had never felt so out of control as she did now. It wasn’t just your moans, it was your scent, your heat, the idea that she was the one who gave you the opportunity that night at the club and now you were lying on her bed, squirming under her hand. She forged this situation from the moment she laid eyes on you, not knowing that you intended to end up in this position ever since she leaned in and her tobacco scent filled your nostrils. You intended to work for Sevika, to be her confidant, her best partner and above all… to become her weak point.
You pulled your head back, moaning as Sevika parted your legs and eased a finger inside you, licking your ear. "Sleeping on my couch, playing with my cards, wearing my clothes while I'm gone; all you've done to end up here." she mumbled, easing a second one, knowing you could take it.
"Yes, I... I did it." you whimpered, gripping the sheets between your fingers.
"You were testing me." she stated, biting on your neck. "Always pushing my buttons to see when I would give in."
You knew Sevika wasn't just playing around with you when she rubbed the heel of her hand against your clit, already swollen and sensitive for her. The room was filled with the obscene sound of your slick, your moans and Sevika's words. "Legs apart." she commanded. "You never learned to follow instructions, learn now." she said.
"Yes, ma'am." you whined, before Sevika chuckled.
"Didn't I tell you I'm not into formality?"
She could never forget the details of the time they met, no. Not when she was the one who saw you enter the club with your toolbox, your tired eyes, your steely confidence. Not when she was the one who asked Silco for a job opportunity for you and paid you with her own coins. Not when she chose you, for herself, from the first moment.
You were hers from the beggining, and somehow you knew it.
Her hand continued to work between your legs, her fingers moving expertly, making pleasurable heat pool in your belly. "You can pretend to be tough all you want, but when you're with me, you're not."
Your legs were locking around her hand, your breathing quick and ragged as Sevika sped up the motion of her fingers. Fuck, you were starting to shake, that tickling sensation settling in your stomach.
"You and your insolent mouth, your smug smile…" she whispered. "I wanted them for myself, I always did." You shifted, knowing that if Sevika had the mechanical arm on, she would already be choking you. However, you felt her move over you, trapping you against the mattress.
"Sevika… I'm…" you mewled, realizing you were on the very edge. "Huh, please..."
"I know." she smiled, as she laid above you, her hand firmly working on your throbbing pussy. "Now kiss me, pretty girl. Earn it."
You cupped her cheeks, kissing her as much as your moans would allow, tasting the tobacco on her tongue, her teeth between your lips. Sevika kissed like she walked, and that was saying a lot. You pulled back, realizing the trembling of your legs was the hint of an orgasm you couldn't contain. "Oh... god...!" you cried against her lips before you dove into the sensation.
And you melted.
Sevika leaned down to kiss your chin, your neck, totally in love with your whimpers and trembling lips, your smell of sweat, your juicy pussy. You barely rode the high when Sevika kissed your belly, a hand tracing fingers on your knee as her mouth hovered over your core. "I could lick it off of you, y'know?" she smirked.
You were in no position to ask or deny anything, but Sevika was in the perfect position to tempt you and play on your desire. “If only I didn’t have that meeting with Silco in…” she glanced at the clock beside the bed. “Ten minutes.”
Oh, no.
"Ten minutes is more than enough." you said, even though it sounded like a plea.
But Sevika chuckled, leaning to place a kiss on your lips. "I don't rush things when I eat a pretty girl out." she stated, leaving the bed.
You propped yourself up on your elbow, staring at Sevika with your lips apart. Unfazed, she took the mechanical arm and connected it to her shoulder, glancing at you with a rose brow.
"Wait for me with the coffee ready," she said, walking to the dresser to get ready. "I'll finish what I started, sugar, don't worry."
To be continued...
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taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias @sevikashairbrush @lipglosskxsses @chaosfieldflower @kairuvhen @moodient @izzy120 @bonemarrowstew @abbysunderwear @batman-2 @karmalovessimonriley @fandomsinthegalaxies @fudosl @femme-historian @poprostuhybryda-blog @kifuqe @xblinkx2 @tamikahoshiko @lia-winther @https-mika @armeenix @bambishaven @xblinkx2 @luvg1s3l1e @dopemusiccowboy @imheadintothemountains @lilithyys @soullessbody @lavendersgirl @lovesickdreamer @makaylaislovely @demonofpuns @celestialst4r @ilovehotd @emmanetalias @bethany-l87 @marah280 @srtuna @jannesyjane @victoriaanne9 @rottngrl3 @depressedqueersocialists @slut4sevika @fragilsnoopy @stmvivs @sillystarv @vyvvycg
Also, I haven't stopped to thank u all for your reception of this series. It makes me absolutely happy you girls like it so far! Thank u all <3
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steveseddie · 1 month ago
Text
apply directly to the forehead
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3
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No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.
There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 
“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 
Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”
Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 
“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 
“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 
Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 
“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 
“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”
“Why didn’t you say something?” 
Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 
“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 
“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”
Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”
“But the party–”
“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 
Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 
He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 
“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.
“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 
“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 
Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 
“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.
“No van?” 
“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”
Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 
Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 
“Uh huh.” 
He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 
He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 
He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 
Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”
Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 
Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”
“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”
Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  
After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”
“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.
“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”
“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 
Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 
“Because you didn’t mean it or–”
“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”
“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 
Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”
Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”
“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”
“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”
“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 
“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.
“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 
Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 
“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 
“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”
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millersfinest · 27 days ago
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untethered | e.w
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00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader
wc: 7.4k
series: chapter one (you’re here!), chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five
blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.
cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.
note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.
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It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.
And, of course, you missed your parents.
They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.
That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.
Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.
The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.
It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.
The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.
She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.
It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.
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Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.
Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!
Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.
You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.
Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.
He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.
Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.
You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?
Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.
He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.
Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.
Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”
“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“
You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”
“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.
There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.
With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.
“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”
Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.
“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.
Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”
“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”
“Ellie…” You warned.
“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“
It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.
Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”
There it was.
Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“
Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.
Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.
“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.
“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.
The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”
Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”
Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”
He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.
They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.
More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”
Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.
Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.
Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!
That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.
As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.
She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.
“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.
“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”
Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”
He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”
The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.
“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“
The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”
Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”
“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.
She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.
That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.
Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.
You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.
A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.
“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”
As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.
“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”
“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”
Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.
“A year?! And none of you told me?”
“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.
Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”
Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”
Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”
Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.
To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.
Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.
It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”
“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.
Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”
“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”
“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.
“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.
She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“
“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.
Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.
“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.
“I gotta go.”
Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.
Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.
Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.
“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.
Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—
“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.
You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”
Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”
The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”
“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.
“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.
He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”
“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.
Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.
All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.
“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.
You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.
Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.
“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.
“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”
Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.
“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.
“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.
Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.
“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.
“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.
“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”
“You did say crowded.”
“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”
You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”
Another record scratch.
You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”
Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.
Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!
“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”
“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.
Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”
“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.
“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.
A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.
Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”
Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.
On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.
“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”
You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”
“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”
“Have a great night…”
Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.
You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.
Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.
That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.
Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?
Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.
It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.
Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.
Suddenly, curiosity struck.
Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.
They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.
Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.
If only that day never happened…
A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.
“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.
The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”
Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.
Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.
“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”
“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.
The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”
Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.
“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”
When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.
Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”
You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.
“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.
“Hm… That’s relatable.”
Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.
Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”
Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.
“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“
“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”
You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.
Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”
As much as we used to. That kind of stung.
Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”
She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”
“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.
“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”
Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.
She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”
“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.
“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“
“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”
“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”
She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.
“I’m fucking starving.”
Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.
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titan-senpai · 1 year ago
Text
What the hell??
A young lady who was a model lived on earth ended in a tragic way.. and ended up in hell somehow? While she cant hurt a fly..
Part 2
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I woke up on the cold streets in the middle of nowhere.. " Where am i.." Holding my head trying to stand up, taking a look around, seeing creatures everywhere. " What the.." I blinked a few times not believing my eyes. I turned my head and saw a shop with mirrors and took a look at my reflection.
shocked to see my own reflection.. White with red marks on my body.. then i turned around and asked a girl "Little girl can you tell me where i am?" The little girl just laughed. " You're new around here?" She took a drink of her milkshake. I just nodded.
" Wel.. Welcome to hell! " She laughed walking away from me " Goodluck newbie" I stood there in shock.
How did I end up here? Wat.. it was that bastard.. looking at my red spots indicating wounds. It's all his fault...I felt my knees get weak as I fell down on them next to the shop.
I don't know How many hours have passed by but out of nowhere a girl walked by me taking an interest in me. "let me guess.. your new?" She said chewing her gum looking at her phone.. she's probably addicted. I nodded.
" You've got good bone structure and a taste in fashion.." She cupped my face looking at it.. " You wanna work for me?" she let go letting me stand up. I took a look at her clothing and thought it must be an influencer or something.
" Whatcha say dear... I need a yes or no." She said firmly and I nodded without saying anything. "Follow me." As she walked away I followed her.
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Walking into a building called VoxTech? Following her into the elevator as she presses the highest button and scans the card. "Names Velvette.." She checked her phone again, typing away.
"My name is Y/N." I fidgeted my hands anxiously. The elevator door opens revealing a room filled with Photos of her and 2 other guys.
"VOX VAL! get your asses here" She yelled into her phone. Dramatic much.
Seeing a spark out of a tv turn into a guy with a tv head while the other was nowhere to be found. "VAL NO JOKES!" She yelled as smoke entered the room. Turning into a man with 4 arms.
" This is the girl i was talking about.. take a look at her" she walked off sitting on the couch nearby checking her phone.
" And what do we have here.." taking a look at me while he checks me out breathing smoke into my shoulders feeling his breath giving me shivers, "your a pretty one aren't you.." feeling his breath closer to me M" Doll..." walking to his desk. "And what is your talent?" The TV headed guy asked me. "i.." Speechless as I left a shaky breath shivering.
"No time for chit chat.. I'll figure her talent out, follow me me newbie" velvette said walking to the room, opening the door revealing a whole wardrobe " FIrst let's get you dressed.. Cant have them see you with us wearing normie clothes can we.." She smirked, pushing me in the room. " Pick one.. I'll be outside." I looked at the clothes, feeling fine silky clothes. None of them caught my interest.
Looking in the mirror at the end of the room touching my clothes that I currently have on. Imagining the clothes i used to wear. and suddenly my hands start to glow. and they started to make the clothes i was thinking off. and soon I was holding them.
20 Minutes passed and I heard a knock " R you done yet dear.." I opened the door walking out in baggy jeans with a Crop top with a window revealing my cleavage a bit and a Jacket with fur. White boots to match the white bag.
" You look fabulous dear.. Where did you get these? I don't have these in my small closet.." I finally let go of her phone pointing at my clothes.
" I think i figured out my talent.." showing her my hands. " Welcome to the Vees my dear.." 
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sunflowersatori · 6 months ago
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Pasodoble
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Word Count: 2K+
Contents: Your boss, Sir Crocodile requests that you attend a gala as his plus one so he can look less suspicious while spying. Feelings bubble to the surface in a night filled with extravagance. (Sir Crocodile x reader, pining, confessions, possessive Crocodile)
Notes: I love this man I really do. I'd do anything he asked me to.
//
“You want me to what?”
Crocodile looked up from his papers, “I want you to accompany me to a gala so I can gather some intel.”
You paused for a moment and then pursed your lips.
“You want me to be your plus one to a party so you can spy on people.”
“Problem, darling?” Crocodile smirked.
“Not with the spying part,” you waved your hand. You’d been Crocodile’s personal assistant for several years now. You knew what to expect from your boss, and a completely honest man he was not. 
“Then what’s the issue?”
“It’s a party for people like you,” you gestured to him. “Extravagant rich people who live luxury lives with fine jewelry and fine clothing…Not a party for normal people like me.”
Crocodile raised an eyebrow, “Normal people hm? Well this isn’t a request. It’s an order.”
“Why can’t you go alone?”
“Too suspicious.”
“Well can’t you just hire someone?” You protested. “I’m sure there are loads of women who’d love to hang off your arm at a fancy party for a night.”
“I don’t trust some cheap escort. I trust you,” your boss levelled you with an even gaze as he lit up a cigar.
You sighed heavily.
“This is really non-negotiable, huh?”
“Afraid so, darling.”
“Fine,” you furrowed your brow, “but I’m taking the rest of the day off to go shop for something suitable to wear.”
Crocodile huffed, a cloud of smoke floating out from his mouth.
“There’s no need for that. I’ll have something sent to your apartment this afternoon, but if you want to take the rest of the day to work up the nerve to attend the party with me then go ahead.”
You rolled your eyes at the teasing tone of his voice and simply waved as you left his office.
//
You stood by the front door, anxiously fussing over your appearance in the mirror. 
Crocodile would be arriving soon to pick you up, and even if you’d spent a few hours getting ready, you still didn’t feel prepared.
You looked in the mirror, sliding your hands over non-existent wrinkles in your dress. Someone else from Crocodile’s office had dropped it off that afternoon, and you knew from the brand label on the garment bag that it was expensive. It was breathtaking. Soft, emerald coloured velvet reaching down to the floor, hugging your curves in all the right places. A long slit ran up the side, exposing your leg and the gold heels that had been delivered to you with the dress.
With your hair done up, and a bit of subtle work with your makeup, you’d never felt more extravagant. Or more unfamiliar from your own reflection.
The colour scheme of your outfit was also not lost on you, and you were certain that Crocodile had grinned smugly when picking it out.
You sighed as you examined your appearance again. Just as you were wondering if you could pretend to be ill, you heard a knock at the door.
After another deep breath, you opened it. Crocodile was standing on your doorstep, filling the entire space with his presence.
He didn’t comment on your appearance as you stepped out to meet him and closed the door, merely giving you a quick once-over and huffing his approval. He offered his arm to you, and no sooner had you taken it that you both dissolved into sand, scattering away and reforming on the grand steps of a large estate.
You brushed stray grains of sand off of you as Crocodile smirked slightly.
“I hate when you do that.”
He chuckled lowly and started walking up the stairs, “Come, we wouldn’t want to be late.”
“Sir-”
“Lose the sir.”
You looked up at your boss, who was paused on the steps ahead, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression you couldn’t place.
“You’re not my assistant tonight,” he said softly, before continuing toward the entrance. 
You stood frozen on the steps for a moment as your heart clenched before hurrying to catch up with him.
As you walked through the grand doors, Crocodile tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow. 
“Wouldn’t want you getting lost now would we?” He said lowly, guiding you through the main foyer.
“How in the world would I get…lost…” you trailed off as the two of you stepped into a magnificent ballroom filled with an extravagantly dressed crowd. 
Men in finely cut suits and women wearing exquisite gowns and covered in jewels mingled and laughed. Several waiters weaved through the party, handing out flutes of champagne and hor d'oeuvres. Large granite pillars lined the marble-floored ballroom, and works of art hung from the walls. Across the ceiling, masterfully painted frescoes were illuminated by large chandeliers dripping in crystals.
Crocodile gave you a pointed look and began to lead you through the crowd as you looked around in awe. Somewhere along the way he managed to snag some champagne for both of you, handing you a glass as he whisked you through the crowd.
“So, is this the kind of extravagant luxury you were expecting?” He asked, sipping his champagne.
“Not quite to this scale,” you said, still taking everything in. You took a sip of your drink. “It’s…a lot.”
Crocodile chuckled, “Don’t worry, darling. Just stick with me and everything will be alright.”
As he tucked you into his side and ushered you off into the crowd, you had the feeling things would be much less simple than that.
//
You were bored.
Even with all the sights and the glamour around you, you’d lost interest in the party after the third conversation that Crocodile had toted you along for, and that was an hour ago. Needless to say, you were done mingling for the moment.
You tapped Crocodile’s bicep as you left, and he nodded without breaking his conversation. Then you drifted over to a less crowded part of the room, grabbing another flute of champagne as you went. With your back pressed against the cool, smooth marble of one of the pillars, you let out a soft sigh of relief. 
Despite your outfit and date for the evening, as you gazed out at the crowd, you still felt like a stranger in a new world. A thought briefly ran through your head, of Crocodile with a date much more suited to this extravagance than you. The idea made your stomach churn. Your boss was a busy man, often with little time left for the frivolities of finding a lover, but there had been a few times when he’d ushered some finely dressed woman away to private rooms at the casino. Each time it had not failed to make some twisted jealousy curl through you, immediately followed by guilt for wanting possession over a man you had no romantic claim on.
As you sat there stewing, a space was cleared in the centre of the ballroom and a band settled on a balcony overlooking the floor. Soon after, a dark waltz was floating through the air.
You sipped your drink as you watched couples take to the floor, a presence coming up behind you your only indication that your boss had left his conversation to join you. Crocodile’s hand settled on your back as he took your empty glass, passing it off to a waiter.
“Your mother used to dance, didn't she?” his voice rumbled.
You nodded, your eyes still on the dancers spinning around the floor, “She did.”
“Did she teach you?” Crocodile asked.
“Yes, but that was a long time ago…” 
Crocodile leaned in closer, his voice dropping to near a whisper. “Try to remember…for me.”
A strange feeling came over you. Perhaps it was a combination of the sultry music and the low pitch of his voice as he loomed behind you like a cloak of darkness. All you could do was nod, and let him take your hand as he pulled you out of the crowd.
The feeling of his hook settling around your waist made you look down, and you realized that it wasn’t the one he usually wore. This hook pointed outward slightly at the end, as opposed to his normal hook which followed one continuous curve.
“See something interesting?”
You glanced up, and the neutral expression on his face almost fooled you into thinking the switch was a coincidence. But Crocodile was far too cunning to not have everything worked out beforehand if he could help it, and the calculating look in his eyes told you this was no accident. 
He had planned on dancing with you, so he’d chosen a different hook to ensure he wouldn’t hurt you with the sharp curved tip.
And he knew that you’d figured it out.
Not for the first time that night, words eluded you. You shook your head, and Crocodile merely hummed in response, pulling you a bit closer as he began to lead the two of you around the room.
“Are you enjoying your evening, darling?”
“I am.”
“Good. I know you were concerned about fitting in, but I knew you’d do just fine. You’re with me after all.” 
You could hear the sly smile in his voice, but it didn’t stop you from briefly imagining what it would be like to be Crocodile’s lover. 
It wasn’t the first time that such a thought had crossed your mind. There had been moments in the past when a brush of hands exchanging papers lasted a bit too long, or a shared look had felt a bit too intimate. Crocodile often doted on you, citing your hard work and loyalty as his reasons to send you gifts. 
You’d be lying if you said you harboured no feelings for him. You kept all that tucked carefully away, though, knowing you’d surely be cast off from his side if he ever found out. And yet, in private moments, when you knew you were able to safely think about your desires, his face would cross your mind.
You could feel your cheeks burning a bit, so you focused your gaze on Crocodile’s chest, trying to keep your face from heating under his gaze.
“Mm, took you long enough to reveal yourself.”
Your head shot up, thinking you’d been found out, only to find Crocodile staring out at the crowd. You followed his gaze, seeing two men in sharp suits exchange whispers and begin to head away from the group and down a hallway.
You sighed and shook your head, your boss’ shifted attention allowing you to refocus on what your role was in his life. The song ended, and Crocodile pulled away, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a light kiss to your knuckles.
“I’ll find you when I’ve gotten what I needed, darling.”
“Yes, yes, go do something illicit,” you waved him off, deciding to go get another drink. Whether to clear your head or distract yourself, you weren’t sure.
You slid onto a stool at the bar counter, ordering a drink and taking a long sip once it was served to you.
“Get a hold of yourself,” you muttered quietly, rubbing your temple and squeezing your eyes shut. Regardless of who you were posing as tonight, you were Crocodile’s assistant, not his partner. 
With a heavy sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and ordered another.
//
It had been a decent amount of time since Crocodile had gone off. 
You’d remained at the bar, observing the crowd and watching for the return of your boss, but had yet to see him. You were beginning to wonder if you should go look for him when a man slid up next to you, far too close for comfort.
“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone at the bar,” the man cooed, and you cringed.
“Just having a drink and waiting for my date.” You turned away, hoping it would dissuade the stranger.
“Your date left you alone? Damn he must be stupid. I’d never leave such a beautiful woman to sit by herself. You never know who could come along and steal her away,” the man said, leaning in closer.
You leaned away, calling over the bartender to settle your tab before you were pursued further.
“Bet I could treat you better than your date.”
“Sorry, I’m not interested,” you said, trying to be polite in the face of the stranger’s inability to read your cues.
You slid off your stool, making to walk away when a hand grabbed your wrist, tugging you back toward the bar.
“C’mon, doll. Give a guy a chance won’t you?” He whispered into your ear.
His hand grazed up your arm, stopping cold when a gold hook yanked him by his tie away from you and toward the snarling expression of Sir Crocodile.
“That’s not yours,” he growled, the stranger’s eyes widening in fear and recognition.
The man struggled as he was held aloft, your boss being a good two and a half feet taller. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t know she was yours! I’ll leave her alone I promise! Let me go, please!”
Crocodile merely sneered, “You think begging will save you?”
You could only stand there frozen and watch. The wrath on Crocodile’s face was something you usually only saw directed at his enemies, but now it was being used in your defence.
No, not just in your defence, out of possessiveness. 
The sound of the stranger continuing to plead for his life took you out of your stupor.
“Crocodile,” you hissed at your boss, watching your surroundings as people started to notice the commotion. “You’re making a scene.”
Your boss finally tore his eyes away from the vicious glare he had been sending the other man and looked down at you. He held your gaze for a few moments before exhaling and dropping the man unceremoniously. Then he stalked over to the balcony off to the side of the ballroom.
You followed hurriedly, nearly jogging to catch up to Crocodile’s long strides. When you emerged, he had already shoved a cigar between his teeth, though he was still frowning as you set your hands on the railing next to him.
The night air was cool, and you tried to take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart, but all you could focus on was your boss fumbling with his lighter next to you and mumbling curses under his breath. He was angry, and anger made him unfocused. 
You sighed and turned to him, grabbing a hold of his collar and yanking him down a bit so you could reach his face. You took the lighter from his hand, feeling him watch your every move as you easily struck it up and held it to his cigar.
Crocodile’s eyes met yours as the cigar lit, and he held your gaze as he took the first long inhale before straightening up and tilting his head slightly to exhale a cloud of smoke.
He grunted out a thank you, and you nodded. You let him smoke in silence for a while, allowing the nicotine to settle into his lungs and ease his tension. Once you’d decided he’d calmed down enough, you looked up at him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” 
“Well too bad,” You said, frowning at him a bit. “What was that back there?”
“He had no right touching you,” Crocodile muttered around his cigar.
“And that gives you warrant to end his life?” You asked, frustration and confusion tinting your voice.
“It does because you’re mine, and nobody touches my things,” he growled, turning his gaze to you.
The fire in his eyes should have been frightening, instead it only made a flicker of heat go through you. 
Crocodile reached out, grabbing your cheeks with his hand. “Sometimes I wonder whether you are truly human, or whether the gods sent you to me as punishment for the deeds I’ve done.” He tilted your face back and forth, examining you. “You bring out a weakness in me I am unable to control. A primal desire to claim you and let no one else have you.”
At this point, you were sure your cheeks were red, and eyes wide from the confession.
“Such a pretty thing, so loyal,” Crocodile murmured, “Forgive me for wanting to keep you all to myself, darling…I’m only a man, and a selfish one at that.”
“Sir,” you whimpered softly, “What does all this mean?”
Crocodile released your face with a sigh and took another puff from his cigar. “It means that I need to face the feelings I’ve been so desperate to quell and ask politely if you’d allow me to court you.”
You stood there in shock, your mind unable to comprehend that your deepest desires were being offered to you freely.
“You…you want to court me?”
“Yes. I want to spoil you in any way that I can and give you everything you want,” Crocodile said earnestly. “I understand this is out of the blue, you can have some time to consider my offer if-”
“Yes.”
Crocodile’s hand paused midway to his mouth, the cigar nearly slipping from his fingers.
“Yes. I want that…I want you,” you said softly, reaching out and gently tracing your fingers across his jaw.
The man let out a pleased hum, stubbing his cigar out and tucking you into his side. “Good. Then let’s leave this stuffy party and go somewhere private. I need a drink, and to properly explain my intentions to you.”
As he whisked you through the ballroom and out of the building, you bit back a smile, content at how he held you closer than he had before, and excited for what was to come.
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lqveharrington · 21 days ago
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But Daddy I Love Him with older!Eddie Munson🫣🫣
Daddy I Love Him | E.M.
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summary: your parents always hated eddie munson, in return causes an argument between you and them.
pairing: older!eddie munson x harrington!reader
includes: mentions of devil worship, bantering, arguments, screaming, bad parents, steve being a good brother, crying, angst, fluff
a/n: i've never wrote a full fic for eddie, so this is a first :) (rules for celebration here!)
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Your family — mainly your father — was never fond of Eddie Munson. In fact, they all believed he was the devil's spawn. You tried to reason with them and show how sweet he truly was, but they only brought up the cold hard truth. How he was held back twice, played a Satanic Game with high schoolers, and smoked weed. He was someone they didn't want you hanging around. They wanted you to stay as far away from his as possible.
Unfortunately, it was a little too late to enforce that rule.
You were in your senior year of high school when you began to hang out with Eddie. You didn't hang out with him to smoke or to slack off on your studies. No, you hung out with him because you could truly be yourself around him. You didn't have to be the perfect cheerleader your parents wanted you to be — you could just exist.
Everyday you were able to hang out with him, you became more confident in who you were. You wanted to leave behind the simple girl you were raised to be. You didn't care if Sarah or Hannah labeled you a mess or if your parents grounded you until you left for college, you just wanted to be with the one who truly understood you.
"I'll get it!" You yell from your room and quickly rush down the stairs, finishing the braid you were adorning yourself with.
The fall weather in Hawkins was always the best. It wasn't too cold or too warm, it was perfect. So when Eddie told you he would take you to town today, you were ecstatic.
Just as you made it to the base of the stairs — Mary Janes scuffing the wooden flooring — Steve cut in front of you and yanked the door open, smile falling when he saw who was standing on the front porch. Unlike your parents, Steve was less inclined to scold you for running off with Eddie. He probably scowled at Eddie once and told him to stay away from you, but after your many protests, he left you both alone.
"Munson." Steve gave him a curt nod and stepped away from the door, letting you pass. He was wary of you running off with Eddie, you were his little sister. But you looked so happy being around him.
Shaking his head, Steve grabbed your forearm and lowered his voice, eyes flitting up to Eddie before back down to you. "Be careful."
You roll your eyes and push him away, adjusting the dress you wore. "I'll be fine, Steve. Besides, our parents are supposed to be gone the entire weekend."
Steve huffed and reluctantly let you go, watching you get into the white van and pull away toward god knows where. Steve only hoped you wouldn't burn down the life you worked so hard to get to.
As Eddie hummed to the music playing on the radio, you laced a hand with the one he had resting on your thigh. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, grinning when you were already staring at him. He was your chaos and your wild joy, but he was all yours and you wouldn't change it for a thing.
"Where are we going today?" You ask softly as he lifted his hand and kissed the back of yours, thumbing the space there.
He continued to kiss the back of your hand as he spoke, "Thought I'd take you downtown. They recently opened a new music shop down there and I heard they have some of your favorite artists."
You raised your brows in surprise and tilt your head, a grin slowly revealing itself to him. "You know me too well." You sigh and squeeze his hand. "Freaks me out just a little."
Eddie chuckled and squeezed your hand back. Of course he knew you well. He had a journal at home that noted all your favorite things. From your favorite flowers to your favorite type of baked good — he had it all written and memorized.
When you got downtown, he bowed and stuck a hand out to help you out of the car. You laughed and gave him a curtsey once he got you down, linking your arms together. On the way over to the store, you passed many people your father knew. Your face twisted in annoyance when a particular woman who used to babysit you and Steve backed away from the both of you and made a cross with her hands.
Eddie tilted his head to you and pressed a kiss to your hair, murmuring quietly. "You okay?"
"Yeah." You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear angrily, glaring at the sidewalk in front of you. "Just annoyed at the people in this town." You kick a pebble and watch it tumble down the road. "All they do is stare and gossip when they see us. It's not like you'll use me for a Satanic sacrifice."
"Who knows? I might just, Harrington." Eddie chided and pursed his lips when you sent him a bored look. He sighed and put his arm around your shoulder. "On another note, you know they're just jealous you're not conforming to the norm." He squeezed your shoulder and flicked your braid over your shoulder. "All your friends aren't really your friends with all the fake smiles they keep throwing you."
"I don't give a damn about them." You rest your head on him and sigh, playing with the buttons adorning his denim vest. You huffed again and rub a hand over your face. "The main issue is telling my parents who I'm really going out with."
Eddie hummed and looked down at you, "When are you telling them?"
You scoff out a short laugh, shaking your head. "If I'm lucky — and Steve doesn't snitch — hopefully not until I'm off to college."
He nodded at you and squeezed your shoulder, leading you toward the music store only a few steps away. "Smart girl."
"Thank you." You grin up at him and kissed his cheek when he opened the door for you.
The second you stepped into the store, you were starstruck. The entire place felt like you stepped onto the set of a music video. There were sections purely for The Smiths and The Cure. There sections for Metallica and Black Sabbath — which Eddie ran straight over to. You shook your head and went to the vinyl and records.
You were so mesmerized by things you'd never seen before in Hawkins that you didn't realize Eddie was by your side, simply admiring you. From the way you kept tucking your hair behind your ear to the way your tongue would just so slightly poke out when you were overlooking the description of the record. His breath was taken away at the sight.
"If I had a camera, I would just snap a picture right here." He spoke all of a sudden, causing you to jerk back in surprise and clutch a hand over your chest. "Absolutely stunning, Harrington."
You shake your head and place the vinyl down, creasing your brows when you met his eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"No." He sent you a cheeky grin and blew a kiss, making you smile. He grabbed the vinyl you were looking at and tucked it underneath his arm, still staring at you. "But you really do look beautiful. Your dress not only compliments your features but your personality."
"How did you ever fail English with all your smooth talk?" You lace your hand with his free hand, slipping one of his many rings on your own.
Eddie opened his mouth before shutting it, shrugging and playing along with you. "Now that is a complete mystery."
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"Did you grab everything?" Eddie popped the door open for you again and helped you out, eyeing your side of his van to make sure you had everything you brought with you.
"Yep." You pat his arm and shake the paper bag full of records and small posters. Although he didn't have much, he still proceeded to buy almost everything you wanted despite your many protests. "Thank you for buying them for me... Are you sure Wayne —?"
"What the hell are you doing with him?" Your father burst through you front door, his eyes wide in anger and fists clenched by his sides. Behind him, Steve and your mother followed, the latter shocked at how close you were to the devil's spawn.
"Daddy?" You took a step back and bumped into Eddie, hands shaking from confusion and fear. You directed your eye sight to Steve, who looked troubled. "I thought--"
"Sorry, I tried. I'm so sorry." Steve rubbed his face and winced when he heard his mother's shrill voice from his right.
"You knew?" She grasped Steve's shoulder and looked at him in bewilderment. She looked between you and your brother, both of you recoiling at how badly the both of you messed up today.
It had been a while since the both of you were heavily scolded by your parents, but you knew you wouldn't hear the end of this mess. You frowned when your father pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering words you would be grounded for even thinking about.
"Wha — Uhm..." Steve stuttered and sent you an apologetic look, running his fingers through his hair. "I have to make a call to work."
"Daddy —" You try to speak again only to be interrupted by your father barking orders at you.
"Get inside the house." He pointed toward the door and glared at the boy behind you. When you made no effort to move, he marched up to you and grabbed your forearm, voice strict and unyielding. "Now."
You huffed and pulled your arm away, giving Eddie one last look before entering your own personal hell. You entered the dining room and sat as far away from your parents, crossing your arms and looking down at the wooden table.
"What the hell were you doing out with Eddie Munson? We told you to stay away from him!" Your father slammed his hands down on the table, cause the glass vase full of beautiful flowers to topple over.
You looked up at him in surprise and crease your eyebrows, "Daddy, he's not a bad person —"
"Like to hell he's not! He's a bad influence! You're supposed to be at home and studying for your midterms." He shouted back before sitting down in the chair opposite of you, face red in disappointment. He knew you were dating someone, but he didn't know you were dating a super, super senior.
"Those aren't for another month!" You hold back from shouting all together, quite aware that your temper was about to blow.
"Don't talk back to your father like that." Your mother gave you a pointed look, picking at her perfectly manicured nails. She rubbed her temple and sighed, "We just want to understand why?"
"But you wouldn't care." You huff and lean back into the chair, tears of frustration filling your eyes. While Steve wasn't the perfect son and didn't get accepted into any colleges, he was able to carry good grades and competed in basketball and swim. They wanted you to be even better than him — get accepted into an ivy league and leave behind Hawkins, Indiana. "All you care about is me getting into college and getting filthy rich like you guys."
Your mother shook her head and moved to grab your hand. "That's not a bad thing, sweetheart—"
"You don't listen to what I want to do, mom." You yank your hand away from her touch, eyes practically burning holes into the wall. You felt like you were going to burst into flames if they said anything else degrading toward Eddie. "All you want to talk about with me is proper etiquette and daddy just goes on about how I need to be the best or I'll end up like Eddie."
"It seems like you aren't far from that anyway." Your father muttered and earned another glare from you. He took your mother's hand and squeezed it as he revealed the following information. "Apparently this isn't the first time you've gone out with the Munson boy."
"What?" She whispered and looked at you with wide eyes, biting the her bottom lip in nervousness.
Your father nodded and scowled at you when he found how unphased you were. "She's been going out with him since the end of summer."
"Oh my god." Your mother fell back and held her forehead in a dramatic nature. She fanned herself and shook her head, "You need to stop seeing that boy."
"Wait, what? I haven't done anything bad." You protest and look between the both of them. "My grades are perfect and —"
"Who knows where you'll end up if you keep hanging around with him." He slammed his hands down on the table again, making you flinch. He sighed and pinched the bridge of nose once again. "Why do you even bother spending time with a hopeless —"
That's when you snapped. The chair scrapped against the floor as you rapidly stood, hands placed on the table to balance yourself. Your voice echoed around the room, uncaring if the neighbors could hear the commotion. You needed them to understand you weren't ever going to leave him, no matter what they tried to force upon you.
"Daddy, I love him!" You all but screamed at him, chest heaving from all the emotion you poured out. Their eyes widened at your outburst. That was the first time you ever yelled back. "I love him because he sees me for who I truly am." You shake your head and glare at them, head pounding from how much energy you spent on them. "Something you and mom fail to do to both your children."
You began to walk away from them, your steps never faltering as you ascended the staircase. But before you could take another step up, you father called out to you, making you scoff.
"Where are you going? We're not done with this conversation, young lady." He stood by the bottom of the stairs, face red from fury. Your mother was covering her mouth, still in shock from what you said.
"But I am." Your voice comes out sharper than intended. "I love him and I won't go back on it."
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