#if this shit isn’t making my life worse then why would i stop | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucifersdickriderdotnet · 4 months ago

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Emergency Contact

Summary: Having siblings sucks. Having siblings who are constantly getting into life threatening situations is worse. 5.9k words.

Disclaimer: as usual, if they're ooc no. uhm. Diavolo and Barbatos are here and they are referred to as Lucifer's boyfriends but it's in like a fun jokey teasing way that siblings do. except Lucifer actually is dating Diavolo in my head so. asmo and solomon ARE dating because I want them to be. maybe next time I'll make solomon date satan. you can only call a man a cute kitty so many times before people get ideas. if you couldn't tell by the title and the summary, people get #sick and break their #bones. oh. there is one (1) cannibalism joke. not demoncest just bros being bros.

Notes: this took so long because I've never written a decent ending in my life and i spent two days on it. also that anon really pissed me off for some reason idk. if you don't like how anyone is characterized write your own fanfiction man idk. solmare doesn't even have consistency with this nonsense. Lucifer is nice to his brothers in this because I want him to be. amen.

It’s a little known fact that Lucifer is everyone’s emergency contact. When it comes to those he cares about, he is protective, almost annoyingly so. So, it makes sense that the person who knows everything about everyone should be in charge if something goes awry. His phone hardly ever rings for emergencies, half because his brothers’ manage to get themselves out of trouble through a series of convoluted and confusing hijinks and half because most of them would rather eat nails than call him to tell him something is wrong. He’s even Barbatos’ emergency contact, despite the fact that Barbatos has never been sick or injured.

When his phone does ring, though, it’s almost always because someone has managed to damage themselves beyond repair, which is why he’s staring at the caller id on his D.D.D. like he can make it stop ringing if he glares hard enough.

“Lucifer Morningstar speaking,” it hadn’t stopped ringing and Diavolo had almost reached across the table to answer it for him.

“Hello this is Devildom General Hospital. We received a patient today and your name was on his–”

“Who.” It comes out dull and flat. He’s gripping his fork so hard he can hear the metal squeak.

“Excuse me?” The demon on the other end of the phone sounds perfectly polite but Lucifer is already so strung out all it does is grate his nerves.

“Who are you calling for?”

“Mam–”

“I’ll be right there,” he’s standing up in a hurry, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and ignoring Diavolo’s many questions as he leaves their dinner.

“Sir, if you’ll just–” he hangs up before the nurse can say anything else.

Mammon managed to break a bone or two in a scuffle he won’t tell Lucifer the details of.

“Do you know how hard it is to break a femur, Mammon?” Lucifer is gripping the steering wheel of the car so hard he’s surprised it hasn’t snapped in half.

“Pretty damn hard, all things considerin’.” Lucifer exhales sharply out of his nose and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. He’s staring out of the window, and the white of his hair is dirty with mud and something red that Lucifer knows didn’t come out of his skull but worries him regardless.

“Mammon, this isn’t something to joke about.”

“I know,” he taps the hard cast of his leg with a bruised knuckle, “‘m the one with the broken bones.”

“If you know why are you doing it?” Lucifer can’t stop his voice from raising a few decibels towards the end of his sentence and has to mentally count to ten to not start screaming.

“‘Cause I just got the shit beat outta me ‘n’ I don’t wanna listen to yer lecturin’.” Mammon finally turns his head to stare at Lucifer and the elder looks away from the road for a second to meet his eyes. It’s not often that Mammon genuinely argues with him, not often that Mammon gets mad enough to let the blue of his eyes light with fury. Whatever happened tonight was not something that he wanted to happen, and it’s not something he needs a scolding for.

There’s a tense silence where Lucifer sighs and then flicks the turn signal, sliding across the lanes of traffic to take Mammon somewhere else before they go home.

“Did you win?” He’s pulling into Madame Screams’ drive through when he asks.

“‘Course I did.”

“Good.”

They both silently agree not to tell the rest of them about their little pit stop, and it’s as Lucifer’s pulling into the garage that he turns to his brother.

“Mammon.” A hum sounds from the passenger seat. “Next time, call me yourself. I don’t want it to be the hospital unless you’re physically incapable of talking.”

“Roger that.”

—

Lucifer is not known as the most comforting of his brothers. The six of them tend to rely on each other for that, going to Mammon or Beel if they have emotional troubles. Lucifer, as the oldest, is good for cleaning up messes. Putting things back together and making it look like nothing was ever amiss in the first place. It’s his job to protect them, from the world and from themselves, and he takes it seriously. Still, despite his brick wall in place of a heart and his general ineptitude when it comes to being affirming in any sense, he is not incapable of helping his brothers out of a tight spot. He’s just not preferred.

“Lucifer,” Levi’s voice is shaky and stuttering on the other end of the phone. He knew something was wrong when his phone started ringing in the middle of class. His brothers all know how much he hates distractions during class time, just like they know when he has a class so they don’t bother him. He knew something was worse when it was Levi’s name flashing across the screen. Levi refuses to call any of them unless the world is ending. He knew something was horrible when he remembered that today was one of the few days that Levi is mandated to come to campus.

“Yes?” He’s already left class walking down the hallway towards the abandoned wing where he knows Levi is. He keeps his steps measured and even, keeps his breathing calm. It won’t do to have two of them panicked at the same time.

“Are you busy?” They both know the answer to that question, just like they both know he’s going to lie.

“You caught me in the middle of a break. Why?” He tests the door handle for the swimming pool. Closed for renovations, the sign says. The same thing it’s said for the past several millennia. The door swings open without any effort on his part, the magic seal already broken before he got here.

“Would you like to go for a swim?” There’s a splash on the other end of the line. Lucifer snorts.

“I’m not one for water.” There’s silence and another splash and Lucifer lets out a heavy sigh. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yay,” Levi says, soft and timid, and Lucifer can see him now, all of him, filling up the entire pool. He doesn’t get in yet, just removes a glove and sticks a finger in the water to let Levi know he’s here. He watches as the miles and miles of indigo scales shift and slide along each other until he’s face to face with thousands of sharp teeth.

“You’re going to break the pool again,” is what he says, voice dry. He sputters indignantly when that earns him salt water to the face. He’s soaked now, head to toe and he’s going to miss these shoes.

“Oops.” Levi’s voice is sprinkled with something mirthful, no longer halfway to tears as it was just a moment ago. “Get in. The water’s nice.”

“Yes,” Lucifer swipes a hand across his face to push his bangs back. Salt water drips into his eyes anyway. “I can see that.”

Levi giggles and his face moves away, body coiling in, on, and over itself, too big to fully fit in the pool.

“You said you’d swim with me.”

“Yes. I suppose I did.”

Truthfully, Lucifer doesn’t like swimming. He is not a bird that is built for water, and getting wet usually means being cold and grounded for a while. Truthfully, he’d rather finally open one of the many letters Michael has sent him over the years. Truthfully, he would do anything for his brothers. Truthfully, Lucifer doesn’t think he’ll fit, but a promise is a promise, so he slides out of his uniform and climbs in.

Levi doesn’t ever tell him what made him so upset he rebroke R.A.D. 's pool, but he does leave a box of Princess’ Poison Apples on his desk the next morning, so Lucifer sets his sights on re-fixing the swimming pool. Maybe this time he’ll convince Diavolo to make it bigger.

—

Satan would rather rip his own teeth out with nothing but a Q-tip and a single milligram of ibuprofen to numb the pain than ever ask Lucifer for help. Their relationship is getting better, he will admit, but he’s filled with a rage towards the oldest that could melt even the strongest of metals, and it will take a while to temper the flame. So, no, he will not ask Lucifer for help, but, if he’s annoying enough about it, Lucifer will fix it anyways.

He starts by mentioning it to Asmo, squinting at him and saying that no, he can’t tell if Asmo’s eyeliner is uneven, because he can’t see.

“Can’t see?” Manicured fingernails are digging into his cheeks as Asmo grips his face and moves his head from side to side. He has to shelve books in his mind’s inner library to not rip his brother’s face clean off his head.

“Doesn’t look like cataracts or anything,” Asmo hums, dropping his face. Satan massages his jaw slightly. “What do you mean you ‘can’t see’?”

“I meant what I said. Your face is slightly blurry and I can’t tell if your eyeliner is even because it just looks like a blob. Ergo. I can’t see.” Satan crosses his arms over his chest and dodges Asmo’s subsequent grabs for his face.

“Oh,” a snort, “you probably need glasses.” He turns back around to his vanity and Satan has to stop himself from saying no shit out loud.

“Glasses are for losers.”

“Lucifer wears glasses.”

“My point exactly.” Asmo twists his lipstick back down before popping the cap on and pulling open a drawer. He gestures for Satan to look inside and he does and–

“I didn’t know you wore contacts.”

“Not very many people do. Mammon has glasses too, you know. He’s sensitive to bright lights. The sunglasses indoors are not just a poor fashion statement,” Asmo sighs and shakes his head, like the image of Mammon wearing his sunglasses inside brings him physical pain. “And, I think Levi has some because all of those screens destroyed his rods and cones.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for calling you a loser.” Asmo waves him off.

“The point, Bitty, is that you wouldn’t be the first.” It wouldn’t be just you and Lucifer is what he’s saying. Satan nods and then frowns.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Why?” Asmo reaches over to poke his cheek. He narrowly avoids getting a finger bitten off. His voice rises several octaves, turning into a coo. “You’re just an itty bitty baby– Ow, dammit fine.”

He then proceeds to complain about it as loudly as possible, as frequently as possible. No, he can’t help Mammon with his homework, the words are bleeding together. Yes, he does have to sit front and center now because otherwise the board is unreadable. No, he did not catch that last slanderous missive about Lucifer in the R.A.D. Newspaper because he couldn’t read the draft that was sent to him for editing. (He made Belphie read the drafts to him out loud and thought that the article was funny.)

“Satan,” everytime Lucifer has to talk to him he looks constipated and it makes Satan laugh inside.

“Big Bother.” Lucifer’s eye twitches.

“You have an appointment with the optometrist. Get in the car.” Satan sets his book down.

“Can’t Mammon take me?” He doesn’t want Mammon to take him. Still, it’s funny to see the vein pop on Lucifer’s forehead.

“... Get in the fucking car.”

Satan plays heavy metal in the car because he knows Lucifer hates it and makes him sit in the lobby during the actual check up because he thinks it’s funny to watch his leg bounce up and down. (And because Lucifer gets a copy of all of their medical records anyway. The freak probably checked Satan’s eyes himself while he was sleeping and already knows his prescription.)

“Those glasses look nice on you,” is all Lucifer says when he picks out the frames.

“I changed my mind. I hate these ones.” (He doesn’t.)

—

He’d been in his room, up to his eyes in paperwork when his phone rang. It’s not unusual for Asmo to call him, the younger always wanting to chat and gossip for as long as Lucifer will pretend to listen, but it is unusual for him to call in the middle of an Asmo Night.

“Hi Asmo, what–”

“Lucy!!” He has to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid rupturing the drum.

“I believe I have asked you not to–”

“Hey! Give me my–” There’s a scuffle on the other end before a voice that Lucifer recognizes as Solomon’s starts speaking.

“Lucifer! I believe Asmodeus has had enough for tonight and needs to be deposited home. I would do it myself, but as per our agreement, I am not allowed–”

“Within twenty feet of my front door. Yes, I know. I’ll come get him. Please keep him out of trouble until I get there.” He rubs the bridge of his nose before standing up and making his way to the door.

“Wonderful! Now, about that pact–” Lucifer hangs up before Solomon can finish the question and hits Levi’s door on the way down the stairs.

“Bed, Leviathan.” There’s a small squeak in response. “Or at least pretend to be sleeping. I can hear your game from out here.” The RPG music leaking from Levi’s room into the hallway quiets drastically.

He stops by the kitchen to find Asmo his crackers and a bottle of water before leaving, instructing Beel to carry himself and Belphie to bed on his way out.

Lucifer does not like parties. He thinks they are loud and annoying and too many people try to get handsy with him when really all he wants is to drink his Demonus in peace. He’s dealing with that now, batting off people’s hands and ignoring requests for a night alone as he makes his way to Asmo’s booth.

“Asmo,” Solomon’s voice is soft and fond as he rouses Asmo from a short nap, “Lucifer’s here. It’s time to go.”

“Mmkay.” Asmo rubs his eyes and gives Solomon a peck on the lips that Lucifer has to fight the urge to gag at. He crawls out of the booth and grabs Lucifer’s hand, and somehow the crowd parts to let him past with no fuss. They barely make it outside before Asmo is hurling all over the sidewalk and Lucifer is remembering that Asmo smells like warm, sugared peaches.

Asmo smells like peaches. Allegedly, he smells like whatever is the most alluring to you, but Lucifer thinks he has always smelled like peaches. He smells like the holy peach cobbler that Michael used to make in the Celestial Realm. Asmo smells like the peach flavored macarons that Barbatos makes when he and Lucifer have tea. He smells like the Georgia peaches the human made him try once. Asmo smells like peaches, he smells like home and love and care, and you would have to hold Lucifer at gunpoint to get him to admit this to his brother.

And now, Lucifer is getting a face full of that smell mixed with vomit as Asmo leans over a bush and loses whatever meager dinner Beel had shoved in him as well as half his body weight in alcohol. There’s a flash from the corner of his eye and he makes a mental note to follow up on that.

“It will sound hypocritical coming from me,” he starts and is promptly interrupted by another retch.

“Then don’t–good Diavolo, that tastes awful–say it.” Asmo takes the water bottle that Lucifer dutifully hands him and rinses his mouth out.

“Are you done?” Lucifer starts fishing around his jacket pocket for a pack of Asmo’s favorite crackers. They taste like flowers, allegedly, and they're one of the few things that Beel genuinely doesn’t like to eat.

“For now.” Asmo takes the crackers and starts munching on them gratefully, leaning heavily into Lucifer’s side as they both walk home.

“Thank you for coming,” he says. Lucifer scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I would never leave one of you alone.”

“Aww, that’s so–”

“The paperwork alone would take at least a decade.”

“Nevermind.”

If Lucifer hunts down the demon who took the picture and threatens them within an inch of their life, that’s between him and his Father. And if Asmo finds out and gives Lucifer a hug at breakfast the following morning, that’s between him and Mammon’s camera roll.

—

Lucifer hates Fangol. Well, that’s not true. He admires the dedication someone has to have to play it and to play it well. He admits that sometimes it’s fun to go to games and get caught up in the hype of the crowd. He also likes that it makes Beel happy. What he doesn’t like is sitting in the stands as his second youngest brother makes a game winning play and then gets tackled onto the turf so hard you can hear the sound his head makes when it hits the ground.

The crowd goes silent and the players and the band take a knee and Lucifer is half dragging half carrying Belphie down the stands to the ambulance as the EMT’s check over their brother.

“Sir, I understand–” The paramedic cuts themself off when they see whose shadows are looming over them. They heave a sigh and gesture to a patch of grass near where they have Beel laying on a gurney. “Try to avoid being in our way.”

It’s a fight to keep Belphie from being underfoot, but there isn’t one when Lucifer says he’s riding in the ambulance with Beel to the hospital. Only a curt nod and then a muttered threat in his ear that he rolls his eyes at and then their off.

“Sorry.” It’s the first thing out of Beel’s mouth after he’s done being asked routine questions.

“It’s not like you asked to receive a concussion.”

“We don’t know that it’s a concussion,” Beel says, wagging his finger slowly. Lucifer rolls his eyes.

“You told the paramedic you wanted to throw up and pass out at the same time.”

“Average Beelzebub activities.” It makes Lucifer snort, lips twitching up into a smile.

“That is the exact opposite of a Beelzebub activity. You’ll be okay, though.” The you have to be goes unsaid.

It turns out to be a concussion and Beel is barred from playing for a while and then everything is fine.

Lucifer has changed his mind, he definitely hates Fangol. He has half a mind to ban Beel from ever playing it again, but if he didn’t have something to focus his energy on, they wouldn’t have a House to live in.

He stayed home from the game, wanting to relax, for once, with a new cursed record and a bottle of his prized Demonus. He might have also paused the record to watch the stream of the game on his phone, but that’s neither here nor there. He’s busy cussing out one of the commentators for their clear bias against Beel–they haven’t been angels in literally thousands of years, people need to find a new excuse–when it cuts suddenly from a replay of the last down to a live feed from the field. And then his phone rings.

“Mammon,” he already knows what happened before he picks up.

“I know ya said not ta call ya tonight, but,” he sounds haggard, and his accent gets thicker when he’s panicking, “ya also said not ta let the hospital call ya so–”

“Mammon,” it comes out snappier than he wants it to and he has to soften his voice when he opens his mouth again, “breathe. What’s happened?”

“Dear Father who art in Heaven–” Lucifer curses again because Mammon only reverts to praying when something is seriously wrong. “Beel got tackled ‘nd– Lucifer, ya could hear the crunch from Diavolo’s good seats.” Lucifer sucks in a breath and considers sending up a couple prayers himself.

“I’m on my way. Beel will– Beel will be okay, Mammon. He’s strong.” He hears Mammon’s assent from the other end of the line just as he hears Levi mumble something to Mammon.

“Oh, yer kiddin’.”

“What? Mammon, what’s going on?”

“We can’t fin’ Belphie.”

“Shit.”

If Lucifer breaks traffic laws on his way to the stadium, no one who pulls him over will be able to make anything stick for very long. He watches as the ambulance pulls away and his D.D.D. buzzes with a message.

Mams

I went with Beel. Everyone’s still tryna find Belphie.

“Lucifer–” he’s met with an armful of brothers before he can put his phone back in his pocket and he’s not strong enough to pretend he doesn’t want to hug them back.

“Did you find–”

“No, obviously not Levi, he just fucking got here.”

“Satan, now is not the time–”

“I’ll decide when the fucking time is, Asmo. Did you see what they did to our–”

“Yeah, I was sitting right next to you. You’re not the only one who’s upset–”

“Guys,” Lucifer raises his voice above their arguing. “Now is not the time.” He hands Diavolo his keys, grateful, for once, at his many attempts to bond with his brothers. “Will you please take them to the hospital? I have a brother to find.”

It doesn’t take him long to find Belphie, but it does take a toll on his knees.

“Belphegor.” He wonders how the youngest climbed on top of the press box without anyone noticing.

“The stadium lights are too bright,” Belphie says, “you can’t see the stars. They drown them out. It’s a bad omen, Lucifer.”

“Belphegor, please come back down.”

“I can’t see them, Lucifer.” His voice is thick with tears.

“They’re still there, Belphie. I promise.”

“We made them together, and I can’t see them.”

“If you come back down we can visit Beel and the two of you can find them together.” Diavolo’s Father help him, he is not climbing on top of that box to bring Belphie down himself.

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

The bad thing about the press box for the R.A.D. stadium, is that the ladder has rusted away. People never go on top of it to watch or film the game anymore because they started to use magic to get the good camera angles. The bad thing about the press box is that when Belphie makes to climb down he slips and has nothing to grab and lands on the concrete stadium seating with a snap that makes Lucifer’s stomach churn.

“I can’t believe you fell while getting down. That’s like, one hundred times easier than goin’ up.” Mammon is beside himself with laughter while he doodles on Belphie’s cast.

“Haha. Laugh it up Mammon. When I’m out of this thing, I’m going to break every bone in your body.” Mammon rolls his eyes at Belphie’s threat.

“The witches have used that one before. Try again.”

“What are you, a magic eight ball?”

“Reply hazy. Try again later.”

“You know,” Asmo says from his spot opposite Mammon, doodling on Beel’s cast, “it is kind of cool that you guys managed to break the same bone.”

“It’s because we’re twins.” Beel says, smiling brightly.

“Yeah,” Satan snorts, “or cause you’re both stupid.”

“I’m just glad you’re both okay,” Levi cuts in before Belphie and Satan can start in on each other.

“Indeed. Although, I believe it’s best that Fangol is heading into its off season.” Lucifer says, and there’s noises of agreement throughout the room.

—

It’s a simple fact of life that Lucifer doesn’t get sick. The Demon King is asleep, the Earth’s year is 365 (365.25) days long, the Crown Prince of the Devildom hates pickles, Michael is a massive loser, and Lucifer doesn’t get sick. He does not get sick or injured or cursed or hexed or anything of the sort because he does not have the time. Except. Except he is most definitely sick right now.

Belphie realized something was wrong when Lucifer didn’t come down for breakfast. He’s a stickler for meal times, always wanting them to share a meal together. Something about family and tradition and will you just do what I say for once that Belphie doesn’t care about or want to listen to. He comes to breakfast and dinner and lunch on the weekends anyway, because Beel does, not because Lucifer wants him to. So, when he looks up from his spot at the table, the cloth permanently drool stained despite the oldest’s best efforts, and watches all of his brothers leave except Lucifer, he gets confused.

“Beel,” he asks, tilting his head just so, “did Lucifer have a meeting today?” Usually he would tell them. Several times throughout the week if it was planned and then again in the morning before he leaves. He’s weird like that, he doesn’t like not knowing where everyone is. Belphie thinks he’s a control freak, even if he finds knowing his brother’s whereabouts comforting.

“No,” Beel says this around a mouthful of muffin, “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. Well. I guess we’ll see him at school.”

They do not, in fact, see him at school. Mammon shares first period with him, which means he can never skip the first hour and a half of R.A.D. Except today, there’s no harsh pokes in his back whenever he starts to zone out, and there’s no pointed coughs when he pulls out his phone and starts playing games. He looks around and there’s no Lucifer.

Demon Brothers

Mams: ayo. where is. lucifer.

Catan: he’s not in class?

Mams: if he was I wouldn’t be askin.

Catan: the phone screen makes you bold, brother. watch yourself.

Mams: o7 aye aye cap’n.

Beel: Belphie says he wasn’t at breakfast either

Mams: is belphie’s phone broke???

Beel: he says typing is too much effort

Mams: understandable have a nice day

Asmo: o.o Lucifer not at breakfast? But he’s always weird when we miss it!

Catan: typical Lucifer hypocrisy

Levs: you know he can still read this chat right?

Catan: when has that ever stopped me -_-

Levs: you guys have hit like all of the Summoning Lucifer Bullet Points

Levs: 1. Mention his name fifty times

Levs: 2. Blow up his phone

Levs: 3. Text during class time

Levs: 4. Slander him at least once

Levs: 5. Ask about his private business/goings on

Beel: and yet

Mams: no Lucifer

The real header comes during the afternoon, when Lucifer doesn’t show up to the scheduled Student Council Meeting.

“Alrighty!” Diavolo says, chipper as ever, “when Lucifer gets here, we’ll start the meeting. He has all of the paperwork, anyway.”

So they wait. And they wait.

“Yo, dude,” Mammon calls to Diavolo and he turns his head, Barbatos coughs into his fist at the lack of formality. “I don’t think Lucifer is gonna show.”

“Yeah,” Belphie yawns, “he wasn’t in school today, either.”

“Or at breakfast, apparently.” Levi says, though it’s hard to hear him over the music of his game.

“That is. Odd. Is he still at home, then?” Diavolo pulls out his phone and starts texting.

“No use,” Asmo says, “we’ve been bothering him all day.”

“Privately and in the group chat,” Satan adds. “Though, he may not have opened my messages because they were all cursed.”

“He didn’t open mine either,” Beel says. “I think he’s just been off his phone.”

“Unusual,” Barbatos says, stepping out of his shadowy corner. “Perhaps something is amiss?”

“With Lucifer?” Asmo sounds incredulous, lowering his compact just long enough to arch an eyebrow at the butler before tapping more powder on his face. “Nothing is ever wrong with Lucifer.” Belphie yawns before nodding in agreement and adding his own two cents.

“Even when we curse him things aren’t wrong. He always manages to make it seem so … normal.”

“I remember that time his pants kept falling down,” Levi says. “I thought it would make him less intimidating. I was wrong.” He shudders. “Very wrong.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” Barbatos says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why does he do anythin’?” Mammon stands up as he says this, grabbing his bag and his phone and making his way towards the door. “Lucifer does what he wants and shows no remorse for it.” There’s a pause where he remembers the Fall. “Mosta the time.”

“Well, if we aren’t going to do anything,” Asmo’s compact shuts with a click, “I have people to do and things to see.”

“It’s ‘things to do and people to see’, Asmo,” Satan says, following his brothers out.

“I know what I said.”

Barbatos and Diavolo watch as the brothers leave, one by one, all citing different excuses before sharing a look.

“Is it rude to stop by people’s homes uninvited, Barbatos?” Diavolo asks, pushing his chair back.

“Yes. But in cases where Lucifer is concerned, manners and politeness have never stopped you, my Lord.” Barbatos follows behind the Prince, steps silent in contrast to the clacking of Diavolo’s shoes on the Academy’s stone floors. Diavolo’s laugh echoes throughout the hallway.

“I suppose you’re right. Come, I believe I must pay a visit to my right hand.”

“Always.”

The House is cold when Diavolo gets there. He can hear Beel rummaging in the kitchen, and Belphie’s soft snores accompanying him. He can hear Levi and Mammon fighting over something and he can hear the thud of books falling over in Satan’s room. He can hear Asmo because Asmo greets him when he enters.

“Oh, hey!” He waves excitedly, before pointing at his feet. “Which shoes do you think look better with this outfit?”

“I think they both look nice,” Diavolo replies and Asmo pouts.

“Not helpful.”

“The ones on your left, Asmodeus.” Barbatos’ eyes peer from behind Diavolo’s shoulder and Asmo smiles in response.

“Thanks! Hey,” he tugs the shoe on his right foot off and tosses it into a pile next to the door before grabbing his left foot’s twin from seemingly nowhere, “you guys didn’t see Solomon out there, did you?”

“I thought I told you that he isn’t allowed within twenty feet of the front door.” Lucifer’s normal baritone is raspy with sickness, vocal cords raw from coughing.

“He’s not going to be within twenty feet. He’s going to stand an inch outside of the barrier.” Asmo turns and places his hands on his brother’s shoulders, spinning him around and pushing him back towards the living room. “I also thought I told you to lie down and sleep. I suppose we both aren’t good at listening, hmm?” Lucifer grumbles at him despite following Asmo’s guidance to the couch.

“I heard the door open.” Diavolo follows the duo towards the living room, Barbatos his ever present shadow.

“There are six other people who can answer it.” He watches as Asmo pushes Lucifer into a sitting position and shoves blankets around him.

“That’s what I worry about.” Asmo rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a baby and just lay down. How can you catch Mammon and string him up by his toenails if you can’t go a second without coughing?”

“I can,” Lucifer pauses to cough, “I can take any one of you down, even in this weakened state.”

There’s a snort from the entrance to the kitchen as the twins walk in, Beel carrying soup and Belphie carrying nothing.

“You couldn’t block even the lowest level curse from Satan at this rate.” Belphie says, curling up on the couch next to Lucifer and resting his head on his lap.

“I could–”

“You’re very strong, Lucifer,” Asmo placates, patting his older brother’s head condescendingly. “Now, eat your soup and shut up. I have a date to get to and I’m running late.”

“Maybe I should cough on you so you can’t go anymore.” The threat is empty, but Asmo’s smile still sharpens in response.

“Maybe I should take a seam ripper to all of your clothes,” he turns on his heel. “Oh, also. Diavolo is here.” The responding squawk Lucifer lets out sends him into another coughing fit, one that disrupts the sleeping Belphie on his lap.

“My Lord,” Lucifer makes to get up and is physically yanked back down by Belphie, “I apologize for not greeting you earlier.”

“No worries! You didn’t show up to the meeting today, and you weren’t answering your phone, so I stopped by to see how you were.” Diavolo gestures to the bottles of cold medicine on the coffee table and the bowl of soup being shoved at Lucifer by Beel. “It seems you are all taken care of.”

“Indeed. I appreciate your concern–”

“Beel, Lucifer’s boyfriend was worried about him. Isn’t that sweet?” Beel nods at Belphie’s joke, resting his head against the side of Lucifer’s knee from his newly acquired spot on the floor.

“The sweetest. Someone tell Asmo he’s being beaten in the best boyfriend competition.” There’s twin thunks as Lucifer smacks the both of them on the head, face now flushed with something other than fever.

“That’s enough out of you two.” He sighs and looks back up at Diavolo and Barbatos. “Would the two of you like to stay for dinner? Satan’s in charge tonight and he likely won’t poison it since I’m too ill to eat much of anything.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Diavolo sits in an empty armchair that he thinks is Lucifer’s regular seat when his phone buzzes.

Emergency Chat ONLY

Belphie: hey satan, lucifer’s boyfriend is staying for dinner

Catan: man. now I can’t put this human world poison I found in it.

Belphie: probably wouldn’t work anyway

Beel: Barbatos is also staying

Belphie: my apologies Beel. you’re right

Belphie: lucifer’s boyfriendS are staying for dinner

Levs: this is great

Levs: I wanted to talk to Diavolo about the new chapter of the manga we’re reading

Mams: the rule is no loser talk at the dinner table

Levs: why do you open your mouth so much then

Mams: i’m gonna fucken get you

Asmo: if Lucifer gets to bring his boyfriends why can’t i bring Solomon

Catan: because Solomon sucks.

Catan: actually

Catan: would Solomon be able to con a fever high Lucifer into a pact

Mams: the downside here is that Solomon would be at dinner

Beel: I’d lose my appetite

Asmo: he’s not that bad

Asmo: and don’t lie Beel

Asmo: we aren’t going to let him cook

Asmo: we aren’t stupid

Lucifer: This chat is for emergencies only.

Belphie: i know. that’s why we’re discussing dinner

Lucifer: If I see Solomon anywhere near the House I will find a way to reverse his immortality.

Catan: wear a blindfold

Asmo: kinky

Catan: freak

Lucifer: I believe I also told you to stop referring to Diavolo and Barbatos as my boyfriends.

Mams: sucks 2 suck

Levs: L moment

Lucifer: I also believe they are in this chat.

Belphie: i know. that’s why we’re discussing dinner.

Belphie: keep up old man

Lucifer: I will remind you that you’re laying in my lap.

Belphie: what’re you gonna do

Belphie: cough on me??

Levs: chat, clip this

Mams: what was that scream???

Diavolo: Belphegor.

Barbs: Lucifer did more than just “cough on him.”

Mams: oh damn.

Mams: so what’s for dinner

Beel: Lucifer says Belphegor stew

Mams: I thought it was Satan’s turn to cook????????

Catan: lucifer just tried to shove belphie in the oven.

Barbatos: With no seasoning? How revolting.

Diavolo: Demons taste better fried, anyway.

Mams: PARDON???

196 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year ago

Text

With Your Touch, Part 1

Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”

“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”

“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”

“Lloyd!”

His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”

“We have a problem.”

“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”

“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”

“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”

Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”

Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?

You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.

“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”

“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.

His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.

You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.

“You gonna get that?”

“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”

“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”

“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Start by holding her.”

“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.

“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”

“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.

“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”

“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”

Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”

“You need an au pair.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”

“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”

“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”

“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”

“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”

Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”

“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”

“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”

“I’m going to live with them.”

“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?

You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”

“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.

Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.

Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.

Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.

You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.

You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.

“Announce yourself. This is weird.”

“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”

“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”

“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”

He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”

There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”

So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”

“Is this a Dior stroller?”

“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”

“What do you do?”

“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”

“My needs? Like food?”

“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.

“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”

He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?

“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.

“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”

Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”

“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”

“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”

“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.

“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”

“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.

“When am I off the clock?”

“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”

“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.

“Dolly.”

“What?”

“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”

“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”

“Her name isn’t Dolly.”

“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.

“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”

“But you’re here.”

“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.

“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”

“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”

“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”

“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?

“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”

“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.

Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.

Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”

“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit @xoxo-ls @rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans @ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13 @missacidburn928 @charmed-asylum @honeyhoneylovelylove

#with your touch #au pair au #babysitter au #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen female reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fics #chris evans #chris evans character #the gray man

556 notes · View notes

grapejuicestyless · 28 days ago

Text

What If I Don’t Know?

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: In an alternate universe where the pogues gave up the hunt after their win with El Dorado, Y/n breaks free of the island dream and runs off the college. Only to find that maybe, being away isn’t what she wanted after all.

My boots danced across the thick yellow lines on the deep black pavement. The traffic lights were flickering yellow, reflecting off of the void and rippling across the building puddles by the clogged sewer drains. An intersection at midnight, no dead stop and no definite go. Just the trust that the other cars wouldn’t blow past the warning signs. The trust that metal was made to bend, to rupture to save a life.

I didn’t have a car, I couldn’t afford one, and I never needed one. Everything I ever wanted was always just a few steps away. Laughter used to echo through the halls and cold rings hit the doors repeatedly. You grow used to people that way. Used to the sound of their footsteps, of their breath. You know who’s on the other side of the door always when you memorize the pattern of their movement.

JJ promised me once that we’d make one. We would run our way down to the junkyard and pick out old parts of cars and Frankenstein them together into a piece of shit that would run like a dream.

That was something I missed. The smell of gasoline. Maybe that’s why I stumbled down through the college town, balancing between the thin stripe of black between yellow and twirling in the center where road met road. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. The image of JJ bent under the hood of a truck. The same Ford that sat broken in the front yard for years, the sound of metal twisting and the breathy grunts with each violent twist of the wrench. It would run like new one day, he swore. I never doubted him, and I still don’t. One day, we’ll run down to that junkyard, a graveyard for cars, and we’ll find that missing piece.

Rain dripped from the bridge of my nose, falling on my soaked shoes and flattening out my fuzzy socks. Everything up North was colder. Maybe it was because of how bitter people were. The semi-warm summers and the sweltering months of autumn, only for the two week beach bliss to be swiftly replaced with a harsh winter that didn’t let up until the next summer. Cold nipped at my nose. I felt bitter the longer I was here, which was weird because when I was sixteen, I could have sworn this place was home.

Then again, I had never really been anywhere long enough to know what home really was. Everywhere I went became rushed by the sweet adventure that was chasing riches. Maybe it was the idea of settling down that intrigued me. To be sat in one place for a while and to slow down, to increase my chances of living through my twenties without some pirate knocking on my front door, a gun to my head. But this wasn’t home, this wasn’t settling. This was restlessness mixed with a deep urge to find something like home. An emptiness emotionally that I just couldn’t understand.

Like a dog chasing its own tail, I felt stupid, and I myst have looked drunk dancing among the silence of my college town. I should have been happy, this should have been home. I got out, I got what Kiara always dreamed of, I sought out a higher education, a dream that Pope had thrown away. My record was clean and my future had meaning. I should have been ecstatic to receive this opportunity, after all the grief and death and scandals of my childhood, a stage in my life that was stripped away by all the realities that unraveled with each new treasure found. But, I wasn’t. Even then, sick, dirty, and cold, I wasn’t happier than then now.

I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. In the dormitories, in the bathrooms, in the halls. It’s me, or, a version of that girl. She has my hair, and we share the same eyes, same curve of our lips too. But she’s hollowed out, gutted, and so indescribably not me. Different, not greater, but worse. I think of packing my bags quite often. Going quietly and without a fuss. To swallow my pride and withdraw my debt I would surely acquire if I stay any longer here at some institution I knew I couldn’t afford the moment I sent in my letter.

My roommate would be disappointed, but she’d move on. She doesn’t know me, she understands the concept of me, but she doesn’t know me. She’s nice enough, keeps her room clean, which inspires me to do the same. She brushes her hair regularly, almost obsessively, and is really pretty. We get along fine. We are friends, to a degree, but we are sure to find other roommates and never speak again. Still, I wonder if she would be mad if I left without telling her.

JJ was mad when I told him. He didn’t like the idea of abandonment. Though, I promised I would return in just a few months, and then a week after, and a few months later. It would feel like I am forever home, only with short intermissions where he gets to enjoy all the things that the island could offer with the others to hang off of his arm. He didn’t even indulge in that idea. He thought even an hour apart was too much.

I promised him it wasn’t abandonment, and swore to call him every night. I do. Sometimes I call him in the morning, and I almost always call him in the afternoon. I like to hear his voice. It sounds like home, it makes me feel warm. I forget about the redness of my nose and the tingling numbness in my fingers. He sounds like the waves crashing against the shore and the sound of wet spaghetti hitting the walls during dinners at midnight. He is laughter and the summer sun, the swells that ripple in mid July and the best seashells on the beach.

My knees bend beneath me, kneeling against the wet cement beneath me. I feel the wetness soaking through my jeans. It’s cold. Like it could be snow if it were a degree cooler. I kneel in the middle of the intersection, and I look up at the sky. It’s dark. I check my watch, it’s nearly morning again. The yellow light flickers against my skin, illuminating my face and leaving me in pitch black again. Everyone is sleeping in my college town. All is quiet.

My neck stretches out, upwards and I open my mouth. My tongue touches my chin, and I can taste the dirt in the droplets that swallow down my throat. My eyes are closed, because I have nothing to fear but loneliness itself, and whether my eyes are opened or closed, the feeling will still be there, and the fact will be too. I am alone, in this journey. I have nothing friends to lean on and no campfire to light. Nobody here knows about the existence of Kildare, of the marsh, and the restaurants that line the cut. They wouldn’t care, they don’t care about an environment they are not accustomed to. They only have so much space to consume what they need to know. To drink up their studies, they have no space for empty thoughts of a life they never lived.

I have my old phone in my pocket. The keypad is burned into the screen because it’s all I use it for now. My life revolves around nothing but the stress of failure and the relief of my best friend’s voice at the end of the day to ease my stress. The truth is, I understand the void in my passion now better than I did when it first appeared, the black hole that seemed to swallow up all my excitement for the new beginnings. I understand the bitter feelings I have for my new house, because I refuse to call this place home. Home is not a place you reside, though, familiarity breeds contempt, home is a connection to the people who reside in respect of you, who stand by you. So though the people I surround myself with here are perfectly friendly, they are not my friends, and they will never come close to the feeling of home I feel with them.

“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep. He has that rasp men get early in the morning, a rich deepness I rarely hear anymore, but something I once bathed in with his arms wrapped around me through the night.

Theres a soft rhythmic ticking that comes with the flickers of light, and the soft patters of rain drenching the pavement create solemn acoustics around me.

“Hey, JJ.” It comes out in one breath. A sigh of relief that he even heard the buzzing of his phone in his usual dead-to-the-world like sleep cycle. My fingers slip on my phone case and I have to catch it, the rustling on my end of the line echoing back through the speaks to me. I can hear the playback of my breathing through a short delay that spans over a vast distance.

“Is everything alright? It’s…three in the morning. I don’t know a lot about time zones but, I think we’re both on the east coast.”

“No, it’s the same time zone, Jay.” My cheeks already hurt with how big my smile was. He just had that effect on me. His goofy, unknowing attitude always managed to make me laugh, especially because deep down I knew he was a lot smarter than he led on to be. When he let that mask slip to reveal his true self, it was always a wonder the ideas that spewed from his lips. He had one of the greatest minds I’d ever known, only to be undermined by the tragedy of his last name.

“Is it a crime to miss my best friend?” My eyes found a home on my wet knees, and my free hand began to play around in the water. Dragging my nail through the small puddle forming around my body.

“At this time? Yes.” He chuckled softly. “Somethings up, what are you speculating? Whats the word? Ovulating? Because I can’t help you with that.” He made himself clear, smiling through his sentences.

“What? No! Why would I call you of all people if I was photo-ovulating?” I corrected myself with a laugh.

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I happen to be irresistible.” JJ defended himself with a teasing tone. Our conversation was light like it always was, even though my homesickness ran deep, and the sadness I felt was heavy, he made it feel like even the rain pouring down around the city I lived in was letting up.

“Lord knows John B’s walls are too thin for me to not have some kind of clue.” I snickered, pushing back the wet strands of hair that had fallen down upon my face.

Rain clung to me in every crevice, drenching me completely until I felt nothing but cold wash over me. It was a shower I didn’t need, one that did not cleanse me but instead poisoned me with the reminder that this was reality, I was miles away from the voice that was soothing my hearts ache momentarily. I would mull over it later.

“Nah, you got off on that shit.”

“Don’t be a pig, I’ll hang up.” I threatened half-heartedly. We both knew I never would. I could never cut the calls first, so the responsibility fell to JJ, who suffered the same inability to let go. Our calls usually stretched for hours, and the voicemails left in my inbox from the few times I would pass out with my cheek pressed firmly against some dusty book in the library took up all remaining storage in my phone. Right along side the folders of photos of us that collected by the thousands.

“So why’d you call?” He asked finally. I had no real answer. I used up all my excuses. Could he check for a sweater I left behind, the very same one I had on, or if he could just catch me up on what the others were up to. As if I didn’t call to hear all their stories daily, hourly if possible. What was I to tell him? What excuse could serve as something plausible without bearing a burden on his wide shoulders.

“You’re my best friend. I love you, I don’t need a reason.”

“You always have a reason.” He argued softly.

“Well, tonight I don’t.” I hummed. He hummed too, and silence filled the line.

The homely yellow flicked was accompanied by the blinding lights that came in pairs, growing brighter and wider with each passing second. Like a deer, I stood quickly, tall in my path but frozen in fear. I couldn’t meet the eyes of the man behind the wheel, recklessly racing across the intersection with no caution. Yellow meant slow, yet in the night, it only called for feet hitting the floor.

Puddles splashed violently, wheels screeching against the wet cement, leaving trails of where wet met soaked. I could see the distance between the wheels, I could lay my chest against the ground and measure it with my wingspan. The car swerved, laying down on the horn until the sound sputtered away into the distance, and nothing but the soft ticking of the lights and the sound of rain smacking the pavement filled the silence of the line again.

“Are you outside?” JJ asked finally. The sound of sheets crinkling and shuffling of legs against the mattress told me the loud alarm had stirred him from his relaxed state. I nodded at first, forgetting he couldn’t see me, and then I cleared my throat.

“I’m standing in an intersection.” I confessed quietly.

“Why?”

To clear my mind, to escape everything that was bothering me. To find peace with the silence, to try and find comfort in a home that wasn’t mine. There were a lot of minor reasons. The smell of gasoline was high on the list. I rationalized a lot of reasons in my head. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. Still, my gut wouldn’t settle.

I had left home to find something good for myself, to do myself the favor I always promised myself I would if I ever had the chance. But now, now that my feet had carried me to a place that was usually bustling with life, life that felt dull compared to even the most calm days on the island, I felt like I could never go back. A chance, a life, a future that I craved, I was throwing away because my feet refused to lift from the ground until I was sure I would only take my next steps home.

“I miss you.”

My answer was clear. It was true. I missed the waves, I missed the concrete roads freshly paved down in figure eight and how they met the old dirt roads of the cut. I missed John B’s chicken coop, though the chickens were long gone. I missed the dying tree carved with his name, and the rusted latch on the chateau’s porch door that left a yellow stain in the crinkles of my palm. But more than anything, I missed being no more than a breath away from JJ Maybank.

“Come pick me up?” I asked with uncertainty. Not because I even doubted for a moment that JJ wouldn’t come running to me if I even for a moment doubted where I stood, but because the morning was still young and tropical paradise was far away from the whistling winds of the North. Ferries only ran during certain hours, and money was hard to come by, even when we scrape together our pennies. Thats what happens when you drink up your success, you’re left with the repercussions. So, even if he did catch the boat, where would he get a ride from? How much more would it cost to bring the Twinkie alongside hime and ride it all the way to the hills where the colleges welcome signs were illuminated by colored lights, shining in school colors and pride.

He let out a stifled breath. He was choking on emotion I couldn’t read over the phone.

“I’ll be there, yeah.” He promised.

“Okay…I’ll go pack.” I said, suddenly and awkwardly. Yes, I dreamed of this day, kissing everything goodbye and running back to my roots, but now it was real. I could hear JJ slipping on his boots already. Why waste this chance?

“Pack?” He questioned.

“I’m leaving for good, Jay. I know I tell you that this is great and all, but I hate it here. This isn’t…this isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s not what I want.”

“So, you’re coming home?” He asks even though my answer has always been obvious.

“Yes.”

The line falls quiet again. I can hear the shuffling of his feet quickening against the rotting wood floors of the old Maybank property. A broken home flipped into something good. We share a bed there, I imagine he’s already grieving the loss of his starfish sleep position now that he’ll be bound to the same mattress as me again.

“I’ll be there soon.” The line falls dead.

Water splashes around me. If I wasn’t already soaked, I would be now. I can see why John B loved having a car so much now. The cold was fine at first when it was numbing, but now that I had feeling back in my chest, it was too much for me. My feet hit the pavement in harsh slapping movements, I pump my arms for some kind of friction against the wind. My lungs burn, they taste metallic. I want to wheeze and stop running, but I don’t think I could if I tried. I should feel embarrassed how quickly I up and left the place I was once stuck in, how I turned on my heels to run far away. But I’m not. I feel nothing, actually. Nothing but cold, determination, excitement. I have the energy of a child. I am an olympic runner, I have the right motivation. Get the fuck out of here, run myself right into JJ’s arms. I pray I don’t wake my roommate up when I reach my room.

The room is empty when I get there. I open the door so slowly, not even the rusted hinges make a sound. The carpet groans under my weight, even on my highest tip-toes. But the beds are empty and neatly made like they were left this morning. Rains pelts the windows. Theres a fan running. It’s my fan. I can’t sleep in the heat, not even in the winter. My bedding consists of borrowed blankets that I buried myself in, subconsciously trying to suffocate away the homesick feelings.

I barely had any clothes to pack, anything to throw into my duffle bag and my old backpack that was once Kiara’s. I never really got around to unpacking anyway, because there was so little to fill the bags I brought. Looking back on every decision I made before even stepping foot on campus, I should have known I would never stay. This was merely a vacation from hell. I don’t get the privilege to relax, I am worked and forced to prove myself over and over again among my peers who will never know me. I can’t wait to go somewhere where I am known again.

Somewhere along the way, I begin to collect up the posters on my walls. I rip them down hazardously, crumpling them and leaving them in the empty trashcan. It’s empty because there’s nothing I’ve touched in this room. Not the books, or the pens. I have a singular pencil up on my desk that’s much shorter than it once was, only half of its once lengthy size, and a nearly full set of flashcards. I don’t need the memory of this place to follow me. I consider it a favor to my roommate. To gift her with all the supplies she will ever need. She is nice enough, and a lot smarter than me. She’s sitting here on a full ride, though, the collar of her shirt says she could afford it without a penny. I convince myself she deserves it even though I do not know her.

I check my phone repeatedly, and I sit on the bench under the old overhang by my dorms. I stay out of the rain, I stay near the warmth and huddle up. I feel anxious waiting for him. It’s only been a few hours. I swept over the room for the few things I did want to keep. Like one of JJ’s bracelets, though it never even left my wrist. Or the soap I used in the shower. It was brand new, I had just bought a new one. I wait for his call. I wait for the familiar honking of the rusted horn. I wait, and wait as the sun rises. Time ticks by. I am impatient, I wasn’t bred this way, but good things have made me this way. I cannot wait.

“Popes probably gonna kill me.” I mumbled softly.

The car was warm, but my hands still lingered with the outsides touch. I sat on that bench for hours waiting for him. I saw people rise from their beds and lean out the window, taking in the smell of the dewey morning. A few gave me puzzled glances. A drenched girl, dripping down on the bench, wetting everything she touched.

But then, he came. I could see the rusted van before he even put it in park. Just between the brick lined buildings and the paths decorated in dying shrubbery. There was a small gap between the campus lawn and the visitors parking lot. A small slice of the outside world creeping into the sheltered space that was college.

I ran. I ran faster than I ever had in my life. Faster than when I used to race for desert back when Big John used to ruffle my hair and let me sleep over if I wanted, faster than when Ward held a gun to my head and made me pray for some kind of miracle. I ran until my feet couldn’t keep up, and I fell into JJ with a gasp.

He held me back, lifting my feet from the ground they stood on. I swore I heard him mumble something sappy under his breath, but he quickly shrugged it away when he saw the look in my eyes. I never felt love until I felt the desperation in the way he wrapped his arms around me. The way he squeezed the air from my lungs and only let me breathe when he was sure that the feeling between his elbows and his chest was really real, until he knew that this was for good.

He had slung my bags into the back seat and laughed as he told me to get in the Twinkie. When he started driving, he played the old CD we burned together in middle school filled with soft rock and Bob Marley. Occasionally, a song I had written into the playlist without him knowing would play. He always acted angry that I’d done that, but his fingers tapped the wheel and he couldn’t help but hum along. He would never admit to liking trashy pop songs, but the pink on his cheeks gave him away.

When the CD was spun to an end, we debated playing it again. We fell into silence, into the comfort of company. We both took the time to process the fact that this was real now, this was the decision I had decided to make. The thoughts that ran through my mind, what if I took off? What if I packed my bags, what if we moved back home? Let’s adventure down the coast, let’s live our youthful dreams that are unrealistic. Let’s make a home. They were real now, in this car, in him. We sat comfortably knowing that there was no limit on our company now, no restrictions on how much time there was left to borrow.

My socks tapped against the dashboard, my toes tracing the outline of the stickers scattered along the interior. Wet residue was left over, soggy folds gathered at my ankles. My body folded into itself slightly. I let the warn air from the dusty vents dance across my skin. Goosebumps faded like the sinking feeling in my gut. The smell of gasoline filled my nose once more, the smell of his deodorant reminded me that he was close.

“No doubt about it. Don’t know how you’re gonna talk your way out of this one.” JJ sighed contently.

“Well, you’re pretty good at sweet talking.” I buttered him up. Compliments were his weakness, I knew it all too well.

“I love you, but no.” JJ laughed.

“What! Oh, come on, please!”

My hands wrapped around his right bicep. My chin sat perched on his shoulder, batting my eyelashes at him and tickling the peach fuzz on his jaw that he had missed while shaving. I wanted to rub my palm over it, tease him for it with a smile. He had a toothy grin that I could see reflecting back in the rearview mirror.

“I get shit done, but I’m not a miracle worker, ‘kay?” He lifted his arm out of my grasp reluctantly, waving his finger to make his point.

“I thought Papa J was a miracle worker?” I teased with a raised brow. My arms crossed over my chest with a huff. My back fell gently against door. I turned to face him, a pout on my face and lines between my furrowed brows.

JJ let out a breathy laugh, his resolve quickly breaking at my endless begging. He had soft spots and I knew just where to aim.

“No, no! Don’t use my ego against me!” He laughed. I held my stomach this time, trying to keep my ribs together while I struggled to contain the fits of giggles bubbling up my throat and fighting past my lips. If love was a sanctuary, I was certain I had both feet in it. If it was a fire, I was burning up, and if it was the waves, they had crashed down relentlessly against my shivering body, bringing relief with each blow.

I bit the inside of my cheek and chewed at the skin. Laughter faded into even breathing, and my limbs curled up against the wrinkling fabric of the passenger seat. It had just barely started to rain again, a soft pattern of droplets hitting the windshield every so often. The closer we got to the dock, the more it lightened up. Though, the storm came in waves in the shape of the clouds that covered the blue skies. With each opening with sun peaking through, the tapping on glass stopped. When the grey swallowed us whole, it resumed. I didn’t mind it again. Not for the reasons that I wallowed in just hours ago, not to seek comfort in my homesick nature that cane purely from the soul of a homebody. But this time, because the swelling my my heart made me want to pull over to the side of the highway and spin around until my half-dried socks were coated in mud and my skin didn’t recall what the dryness felt like.

“Can I tell you something?” I murmured, my eyes locked in to the passing view that was the trees speeding past the windows.

“Yeah.” JJ hummed.

“I only came back for you.”

JJ hesitated on what he thought he wanted to say. He was biting his tongue. I shook my head.

“That sounds bad.” I laughed. “I only decided to leave because of you. I guess…just sitting in the middle of the road, I already felt really far away from everyone. I missed everyone more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, but I was convinced that maybe I could suffer through it. But…just being with my thoughts, and hearing your voice after thinking for a while…kinda just convinced me.”

JJ took it all in. I saw the whites of his knuckles deepen the harder he pressed his fingertips to the wheel, the vast expanse of road ahead daunting now. This was beyond quality time together, and he knew it now that the newness began to settle and he began to realize it was the same old me. This was my future, and I had tossed it all away.

“I just…I guess I always thought you’d be the one to make it out. To really go for it. Kildare’s bog enough for me, but I always kinda thought you’d go somewhere…more.” JJ spoke softly, eyes glued to the road.

“Maybe I already did get out. I got out and I tried to change everything about me to be that girl who wanted to get out, but she’s dead. Getting out sounded so freeing when we were younger, but now…now that we’ve seen the world and…and done so much in such little time, I’ve already lived a whole life, I’ve seen the world and I still feel like I don’t know who I am yet. But I know what I love, and I know that I hate every second that I’m away from it.”

JJ hummed again, raising his brows.

“You don’t need to explore every single corner of the earth to be something or-or someone. And maybe I didn’t realize it when I sent my letter in but I know now and I know that, I feel only half as good when I’m anywhere but where I should be. I’m sorry if that’s disappointing or if Pope is going to lecture me for days and you have to listen to it, but I know I have such a better chance of being who I want to be where I can be her than in some Northern University where people wear coats year round.” I rambled. My hands moved quickly. I cut through the air with each slice of my palms, and my eyes ran wild across the landscapes and the curve of his nose down to the bend of his jawline.

“I’m just trying to make sure this is what you want.” He finally cracked a smile. His head turned for a moment to meet my eyes, and I could see the flickers of light brightening up his affectionate gaze.

“Jay, I sat in the pouring rain in the middle of the road and begged you to come get me.” I deadpanned, but a small smile still graced my face.

Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to stick my toes back in the warm sand back home. To look down at my boots and dance along the gravel roads instead of balancing between two yellow lines that shot straight down the neat pavement.

Home was a foreign concept for a long time. The idea that it was something that could be bought. Through a mortgage, monthly rent, out of pocket. I never had those kinds of expenses. What was pocket change for some felt like gold to me, so maybe when people sat around talking about how they craved a big house to reside in, I never fully understood. Then again, I was never anywhere long enough to know.

I wouldn’t change a thing, how I ran around with my friends for years looking for gold that seemed to become buried under more and more stories, leading us to an even greater prize. I wouldn’t change the way I threw it all away to be with them. Subconsciously, I was smarter than I thought. Pope talked about packing up his bags, skipping town and moving to Idaho. Somewhere where he meant nothing to nobody and could start over. But I never indulged in it, or the fantasies of having a little more money. Being stable out be nice, but I always knew I had what I needed. I had a home and it was built on the structure of my four best friends that soon grew in size to six, and they had toothy smiles and stupid jokes.

“Do you think they’ll be mad?” I asked suddenly. Sure, this was right and it was what was true, but this was a dream that nobody else ever got to experience.

JJ pulled his lip between his teeth.

“Nah.” He sighed. “Pope will have your head, but Pope gets wound up easily. Could use him as a fishing pole.” JJ joked. It made me laugh and I felt any stress melting away. It was funny that he could do that anytime he pleased. I didn’t know if he ever knew he could do it, but he had a smart mouth, and a funny bone that always seemed to tickle me just right.

“But not you?” I asked once again.

“Not me what?”

“You wouldn’t? Be disappointed in me, that is.” I clarified softly, the roads becoming softer the more me drove along them. It was only moments until we’d soon roll onto the metal bridge connecting us to the boat that would send us home.

JJ breathed out through his nose.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” I responded plainly.

“And it makes you happy?”

“Yes.” JJ sighed, his eyes flickering from the wheel, to the road, and back to me. But only for a moment.

“Then no.” He answered just as plainly as I did, but there was a twinge of happiness itching at the corners of his lips. Selfishly, he wanted me to come home, and selfishly, I did too.

“Well, are you mad at me?” I continued to press him.

He laughed. “I could never be angry at you.”

“Not even if this is the wrong choice?” I picked at the skin by my fingers. My skin hurt a lot less now that it was shedding the smell of foreign land and letting the faint smell of the Twinkie stick.

“Who am I to tell you if it’s wrong?”

“Well, Pope would tell me it’s wrong.” I argued weakly.

“And am I Pope?”

I shook my head silently, and my eyes glued to my fingers. Blood stained my cuticles, where skin met nail. It stung, but it hurt a lot less than what I felt before.

“Y/n/n, you could send me into bankruptcy and act like we’re rich and I don’t think I’d even have it in me to blame you.” JJ smiled. I focused on the slopes and curls of his hair.

We sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t like he was Shakespeare, but it wasn’t often JJ said something truly sappy. Usually, his philosophies revolved around excuses for his own stupid actions, which, now that he had explained his view on me, I had come to realize I never fully saw the extent of his behavior because I had never had the courage to blame him. I never would.

“So, you’ll talk me out of trouble when we get back?” I smiled sweetly, leaning my head on his shoulder and batting my eyelashes desperately.

JJ let out a laugh from deep in his stomach, his cheeks turning pink from his gasps of oxygen.

“I love you, but no.”

“I thought JJ was the reckless one, but holy shit, Y/n/n!” Pope ran a hand over his hat, pulling it off by the brim in one quick motion. The hard fabric hit the wooden counter of the bait and charter shop, the slap echoing through the homely space.

“Can you blame me? It’s so far away, and we just got back! I haven’t been in one place for more than a month in years, and I’m so god damn tired of feeling homesick all the time!” I tried to argue against the growing rally against me. I pleaded my case, but they all looked at me like I was brain dead.

“You had a chance, Y/n. A really good one too and you blew it, for what? To sell bait? To slum it in the cut? You can do that when you’re done earning your other options!” He scolded me like I was a kid. But I’m not a kid, and the worry lines slowly creeping up onto my once vibrant face are only evidence of the ever growing number attached to my bones.

“Yes, but a chance I didn’t ever really want! I mean, how could I even know if I ever wanted it, I don’t know who I am!”

“Thats what growing up is for! Not growing down. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re not a kid anymore, Y/n. And you never will be again!”

Silence fell over the small room. Even the waves rolling against the dirt didn’t dare to whisper through the large windows and gaps for doors.

“I sacrificed that for you.” I spoke softly, bitterly. For so long, I’s bitten my tongue for everyone. Hidden my resentment for chasing after a gold, I never really wanted because in my eyes, I already had it. But it was what they wanted, so I let myself age out of the period of my life I had dreamed of since I was a kid.

“I gave up my childhood so that you could figure out yours! You got to know who you are, I never got that because no one ever stopped to ask me what I wanted! Nobody! You were all too caught up in your greedy treasure hunt to ever look around and think about if everyone wanted to do this!”

“No one made you come along.” Kiara stepped forward, the same disapproving look in her eyes. She was only defending her wordless friend, but my feet felt heavy and my joints were warm. I felt myself creating sentences I should have never admitted out loud.

“Well I did! I did, and it’s too late to change that, and I did it because that’s what friends do. But what do we have to show for it? Nothing! We didn’t get the cross, we didn’t get the gold, hell, we already spent all of the nuggets John B managed to grab!” It fell silent again, and suddenly, I was standing in the center of a circle I didn’t want to be a part of.

“So what? Because we failed, it condemns you to leave college?” Kiara always had a smarter mouth than me. She was quit witted and observant. Yet, she failed to understand that my choice to come home wasn’t something merely of the way the treasures slipped through our fingers. It was a homesickness she never had to feel because she had plenty of them where she was consistently welcomed.

“Why is it so wrong for me to be unhappy with something that everyone else enjoys? Just because my dreams do not inspire yours does not make them any less important. A-and honestly I’m sick of standing here and listening to all of you yell at me for getting out of there instead of letting myself waste away! I’d be dead if I didn’t leave, I’d be dead because you all mean a lot too much to me for me to be away from you guys for so long. In four years I might be rich, but I would be unhappy. I would be bored. But you guys—us; we will be interesting, and funny, and bold, and unpredictable forever.”

I swallowed hard, and my eyes met the blues of the boy who had the courage to go against the majorities better judgement and bring me home. He had the same wild look on his face.

I hadn’t expected JJ to speak for me, to try and mellow out the anger I knew I would receive and backtrack against the backlash I would surely face. But out of everyone, I thought I could count on him to have my back.

And he just, didn’t.

I decided then I wouldn’t stay in the eye of the hurricane when I knew what it was capable of. I wouldn’t let myself become part of its destruction if I knew I could separate myself from it for just a moment, to remove myself from all the disappointed stares.

My feet hit the wood of the long dock, the bottoms of my shoes echoing through each plank of wood, all borrowed from the destruction of a past home.

I thought of packing up, leaving, heading over to some other place I could call home temporarily, but my fingers hesitated to reach under the bed, and my knuckles curled away from the zipper that connected to the duffle bag that was squished between dirty clothes and shoe boxes filled with memories.

A hand spun me around, pulling me from the daze I had put myself in the second I walked into the new bedroom that was mine to keep in the newly fixed home. It was calloused and warm, yet the coolness of the rings decorated on each finger revealed who the strong hold belonged to.

“Why couldn’t say something?” I asked bitterly before my eyes even met his. It was just JJ and I in the confines of our bedroom. The door shut without a crack and the windows sealed off from the outside.

“I told you I wouldn’t.” He smiled. I didn’t find it funny.

“No, but you could have defended me. I would have done it for you.” My lip wobbled. My throat stung, and JJ’s eyes softened. He must have believed it was because he hurt me, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just the idea that nobody would ever deal with what I felt because they hadn’t been burdened with the feeling of it ever before. And therefore, nobody would ever get it, nor have an inkling of an understanding of why I had to come home.

“Y/n/n, come on. It’ll blow over. They’ll be happy to have you back as soon as they get over it.” He tried to comfort me.

When his hands found my shoulders, it felt belittling, condescending, though I knew it wasn’t the case. I convinced myself it was because I was angry. Spiteful, maybe.

“No, JJ, stop. Stop touching me like you care, I can’t…I can’t stand it right now.” I stepped away, throwing his hands off of me like they were poison, or fire, or both.

“Everyone is looking at me like I’m a failure! Like…like I’m something to be embarrassed about. But who are they to say that I failed? Right? I spent my whole life, the years when I’m supposed to be finding myself licking the dirt off of other peoples shoes! And I took it and I didn’t complain because I thought that maybe my day would come, and it hasn’t! How is that fair? And to think I was stupid enough to think that something good would happen to me. But the truth is I hate being out of this stupid town, and this stupid town hates me. I-it’s like they’re all spitting on me and blaming it on the wind. And don’t look at me like I’m crazy because I love you too damn hard to be looked at like that by a boy I would give my whole life for!”

I breathed heavily through my teeth, and my chest raised with so much vigor in my voice, I shook the air with a desperate anger I had felt marinating for decades beneath my skin. Yet, the manhunting and the blaming had pushed it down, and the failure and the fear had only boiled it back up. But it was always there, simmering. JJ just laughed.

“I’m only looking at you like you’re crazy because I think you’re too good to care what anyone has to say about you.” He explained with a smile.

“To you, maybe. But that doesn’t make it true. Whats true is that they all had some image of me painted for them the second I made the decision to go to college, and it was wrong. Because I’m not nearly smart enough to be as interesting or independent as they want me to be. I can’t do organic chemistry, I’ve never passed a calculus test, I’m not a doctor. Nobody ever supported those dreams anyways, not even me, because as amazing as it would be to become those versions of myself, it’s not me.” My face crumpled in defeat finally.

“I’m not…good enough for anything outside of this town.”

For the first time in my life, I saw something in JJ’s eyes as I confessed how I saw myself, how I let my friends—no, my families anger affect how I saw my decisions. I saw dapples of disappointment flickering in the sea of his eyes.

“Do you really think thats true?” He asked calmly, softly. He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to reach out for me, but he too shared that feeling of uncertainty that had consumed me in the past months.

“Good god, maybe they were right. Maybe you are a failure.” JJ sighed, and my breathing halted. “How can you for one second believe that anything they have to say is true? How can you believe that these things you think about yourself are true?”

“Well what am I supposed to believe? We were all raised to believe the same things, right? The engineers and the scientists are necessary but nobody needs the family man or-or the artists to carry on, right? So why should my dreams of just simple living be tolerated when everyone else craves so much more?” I cried.

“Do you even hear yourself? It’s contradictory in every sentence!” JJ yelled furiously back at me. But his anger wasn’t placed at me, but at the things that led me to believe what I thought.

“Just a few hours ago you were excited to come home. You were certain that this is what you wanted because it was your dream and your life! You wanted to find yourself, to know who you are. And you were right! More dead on than anyone had ever been in my life, and hearing you speak about what you knew inspired me to think more for myself than for the benefit of everyone else! College, or some fancy job, or money won’t make any of us know who we are, that’s your job!” JJ’s eyes were wide. He had decided now, and his hands found a home on my arms, squeezing hard and passionately.

“Anyone can be those things they want you to be, but I promise you, if you stick with what you know you want, everyone you touch will remember you for centuries.” He promised me softly.

“And how do I know if I even know myself? What if I’ve never been home enough long enough to know?”

“Then you’ll find it. You’ll find it, and I’ll find it too. We can find it together.”

My eyes searched his. I could no longer blink away my tears. The liquid was much warmer than the rain that had pelted against my skin, that had slipped down my back and under my shirt to touch the most painful and terrifying parts of myself that I had refused to acknowledge or recover for some time. It was hard to recognize it all, to know exactly who I wanted to be, so, I did what I did know.

I wrapped my arms around JJ tightly, burying my head in the wrinkles of his shirt and let the patterns his arms rubbed circles in my back guide the way I swayed. I let him hold me, because if anything could be uncertain then he was nothing. He was the one thing I’d always known, and maybe that was why I had called him that night. Because in every memory I ever had, he was the one defining memory of home. He was home.

“Will you be mad at me if I never find it?” I asked pathetically against his chest.

“No.” He responded softly, muffled by the way his lips pressed into the top of my head affectionately.

“I could never be angry at you.”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #maybank #maybankxyou #maybankxreader

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darnell-la · 4 months ago

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𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦

pairing: dom!logan howlett x black!fem!reader

warnings: flashbacks, passing out, a lot of foul languages, heavy smut, rough sex, hard making out, a lot of territory marking, jealousy, etc.

note: we were just reminded that Wolverine and Storm had their own love story, but they cut it out of the movie because they didn’t know how they would make it a thing in the rest of the X-Men movies. we need that storyline NOW!

here’s the smut only!

please like, COMMENT, follow, reblog, and REQUEST us.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!

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𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

“You’ve been here for a week, grump pants. Just enjoy the Halloween party. God, did you guys not have fun in your world,” Wade pulled Logan through the doors of this adult Halloween party his friends had invited him to.

“How about you walk around, and make some friends while I say hi to mine, mkay? Good boy,” Wade pat Logan’s head before running off, knowing Logan wasn’t the physical touch type of man.

Logan stood at the front entrance for a while, looking around to see where the alcohol was. He knew they had to have some kind of liquor around here.

He sighed, thinking the party couldn’t get worse until he finally spotted the drink table. He rose his chest and began walking towards the booth, hoping they had some good and hard shit.

As he walked halfway, someone walked before him, almost making him trip. He went to open his mouth, but he stopped when the person's outfit reminded him of someone. Storm.

The woman kept walking, completely unaware of almost tripping Logan. The man stalked behind her, feeling memories come back to life.

Storm was one out of many women Logan had messed around with. They grew close. Very close.

“Let’s get some drinkin’ on!” Y/n shouted making the people around her celebrate. Her personality and how she carried herself seemed similar to one of the main people he missed.

“Ororo?” Logan spoke. Y/n stopped in her tracks and looked around Al for the faint voice. “Storm?” Logan spoke again right as y/n looked back at him. “Yeah?” Y/n asked with a smile.

Her smile soon faded away after noticing who the man was. He died. Well, at least in her universe. How is he standing right in front of her face?

“Is that really you?” He asked as his hands softly laid on her cheeks. Tears began filling the man’s eyes as he remembered everything from his universe. All the love, friends, and family he had.

“I-I’m just in a costume,” she said. He seemed so happy to see Storm, but that wasn’t who y/n was. She felt bad for disappointing him. She noticed his hands slowly move away from her. His eyes seemed lost.

“Heya! — See you made a new friend- Oh,” Wade looked at the woman then looked at Logan’s state before looking back at the woman. “Well, this isn’t good,” he said, not knowing how Logan would react. He’s known for lashing out.

“Woah, big buddy — Why don’t we go back home, heh? Seems like we’ve had enough fun. Sorry, my friend over here is kinda having a — a Wolverine attack. So, would you mind?” Wade snickered as he went to pull Logan back, but he didn’t move.

He just stared at y/n. Scanning her figure. Her hair. Her eyes. Her lips. Her shoulders. Her form. Her. She looked just like his old friend.

“S-Sorry, you just — You just look like her,” Logan spoke as his memories slowly faded away. “Woah, I don’t think that’s appropriate, bub. This 2024. Not all back women look the same,” Wade whispered, making y/n giggle.

“Huh, what? What are you even talking about?” Logan shot his head towards Wade then the young lady. “Oh my god, you- God, I hate you. I really fucking hate you,” Logan grabbed Wade by his button-up shirt, pissed off for probably the one hundredth time tonight.

“Woah, woah, I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m not offended. I’m actually, honored,” y/n said as Logan slowly placed Wade down. “Well, you should be because this man here would fuck the shit out of-“ Wade’s voice began to sound like a shout before Logan launched in dead in his face.

“Ow, you- Fuck!” Wade grabbed his face, feeling his shifted nose. “You’re a dick. A big fucking dick,” Wade snapped his nose back in place, shocking y/n. The woman covered her mouth, realizing that the Wolverine and Deadpool were at her part.

“I see you’re the host. It’s plastered across your thick necklace- Woah!” Wade stopped his sentence as her eyes shut and her body went limp. Logan caught her quickly as Wade stood there, covering his own mouth now.

“Shit, I- Don’t worry guys! She just had a lot to drink. Gone off that liquor, you feel me? No? Yeah? Okay, well, we’ll take her to bed,” Wade tapped Logan’s shoulder to follow him quickly.

“Hey!” Someone yelled at the two. They stopped right in their tracks and turned towards the man. “Her room the third door on the left,” he said, making the two sigh in relief.

“I don’t know! I was just- I fuckin’ froze!” Logan shouted at Wade, who laid back on the stranger's couch as Wade messed around at her makeup desk, putting some blush and lipgloss on, making sure to leave her foundation alone. He fears cancel culture.

“Well, now you embarrassed us in her house. We’re never getting invited back again. Thank you, emotional twig,” Wade said, making Logan roll his eyes.

“I can’t believe I thought she was her. This lady's much younger and — She’s just much younger,” Logan said as Wade turned around in the spinning chair, now looking at the man.

“That’s what I said, but you’re thinking much more, ain’t ya? — Is it the curves? I mean, your lady had some too, but not like-“ Wade was cut off by Logan telling him to shut up.

“What!? The costumes are way thinner than a high-quality X-men suit. I’m all for feminism but damn! It was jugglin’ when you carried her up the stairs,” Wade raised his shoulders.

“You’re a sick individual, do you know that? God,” Logan shook his head, but he would lie if he said he didn’t see it. He saw it all when she had first stepped in front of him.

Wade went to go on about his rant until they heard y/n’s yawn, finally waking up. “Oh shit,” Wade stood up as well as Logan, both on different sides of the room.

“What the fuck,” y/n spoke after clearing her eyes. “Is this some fucked up dream? Wait? A wet dream!?” She asked out loud, still thinking she was dreaming until she noticed the silence between them, making the music from downstairs seem louder.

“You have wet dreams about us?” Wade asked, breaking the silence. “No,” she dragged, but she was already caught. “Oh my god, girl, tell me about it. Were you with us, or was it just me and Logan fuckin’ it out?” Wade asked as he jumped on her bed, kicking his feet in the air like some little girl's sleepover.

“N-Neither,” she lied. “You hear that, grumpy!? There’s a woman in this universe who rubs one out for ya -- Please be gentle, he gets a bit — sensitive when it comes to — sex,” Wade whispered, but not low enough for Logan to not hear.

“Man, get up. You’re makin’ the lady uncomfortable,” Logan said as he stepped towards the bed. “Or, you can lay down with us and we can cuddle?” Wade said, offering a once-in-a-lifetime offer.

“I need to think. Not about the threesome you’re hinting at, but about this. About Wolverine and Deadpool in my house. At my party. In my room. One on my bed,” y/n’s brain scrambled everywhere.

“How about my place?” Wade suggested. Y/n thought about her party, but her roommates would figure it out without her.

It’s been months since the party incident. Now the three are close and good friends. Even though Logan’s grumpy literally every second of the day, y/n grew to like it. His personality was one of the best things about him.

“Well, I have a date tonight, so move this party to Wade’s place down the hall. Don’t wanna come back to you guys gettin’ it on in my kitchen,” Wade stood at his door.

Y/n turned her head from the movie she was watching and Logan sighed, getting up from the dining room chair.

Even though they barely sit close to each other, Wade knows they’re destined to be together. They have to. If they don’t, he’ll have to run away to a universe where they are.

“I can actually go home now. It’s gettin’ kind of late,” y/n said as she got up, walking towards the front door with Logan. “Oh, no, it’s too late for you to drive. You also drank,” Logan said, making up some excuses for whatever reason.

“I barely drank my cup. I think I’m good, Logan,” she said as she walked out of Wade's apartment. Logan stayed silent, about to let her walk away because he’s always had a problem with showing how much he cares for someone whether that was being lovers, friends, or family.

“Logan go get her. Don’t let her walk away,” Wade yelled whispering at the man. “It’s fine — She said she wanted to go home,” Logan said as he walked out of Wade’s front door, watching y/n walk down the hall.

“If she walks away and gets ran over, robbed, or killed, that’s the story you made for yourself in the universe,” Wade tried scarring the man. Logan leaned over Wade, teeth stuck together as he growled at him in anger.

“Y/n!” Logan shouted as he jogged over to Y/n, softly grabbing her wrist to turn her around. “I’d like for you to stay. I-I’m actually not gonna let you leave,” Logan’s grip slightly tightened.

“Drinking and driving isn’t safe,” he added, making Wade sigh down the hall. “Well, at least you tried. See ya — Damn children. I always get stuck with the children!” Wade said before taking the stairs down, leaving Y/n and Logan alone in the halls.

“I barely drank, Logan,” y/n said with a slight smirk, knowing he’s too big of an emotional keeper to make him say exactly what he wants just now. She had to work for it, and she had time.

“You still drank. Don’t need ya gettin' pulled over then callin’ me to bail you out. I don’t even pay for rent. The owner's a fan,” Logan pulled y/n into him, placing both hands on her hips.

“I wouldn’t call you. I’d call my friends,” y/n kept playing around with him. “And who is that? Those boys you call your roommates? Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “I had female friends too — But it seems like you’re stuck on the men. You jealous, big boy?” She asked.

“Oh, what? Them? Why would I be, when you’re right here with me,” Logan's lips were now inches from her. “But you’re not makin a-“ y/n went to call him out until she felt a tight grip on her neck.

“Quit playing with me, bub. It’s kind of pissin’ me off,” he admitted. The thought of her being around her male roommates has been bothering him for a while, but of course, he never said anything.

Before she could say another word, Logan grabbed her arm and pulled her towards his apartment door, unlocking it and then closing it right after he pulled her in.

“Guess Wade was right,” Logan pushed y/n against his door, trapping her. It’s not like she wanted to leave, anyway. “He would’ve caught me fuckin’ you on his kitchen counter,” Logan finished before his lips attached to hers.

Y/n moaned at how needy he kissed her. He kissed and sucked on her lip and tongue like he’s been waiting for years, which is impossible, but he has been waiting for months.

“Need these lips on mine more often,” Logan said before moving down to her neck, sucking hard. He wanted to make sure her roommates knew what she was doing when she hung out with him.

“Fuck,” the young lady moaned as her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the roots. The man growled, feeling the instant rush to mark her in many different ways tonight.

Without asking, Logan lifted y/n up by her thighs, making her wrap her legs around his huge waist. He pressed her into the door, still a bit upset about her comment about her male roommates.

“Do they make you feel this good?” He asked as he pressed his crotch in between her legs to rub it up against her covered heat. “Do they!?” He pressed against her harder.

“I don’t even fuck with them!” Y/n whined as his mouth sucked on to different parts of her neck. “You better not be lying to me,” Logan leaned back, looking directly into her eyes.

“If I eat this cunt and I smell any man on it, Ima fuck your brains out,” he said before pulling y/n off of the door and carrying her to his room.

“T-That’s not fair! I-I’m not even a virgin, so you’re gonna smell someone!” She said as he threw her on his bed. The man shook his head with a chuckle as he got undressed. Y/n watched him, feeling herself grow more wet than she already was.

“Well, isn’t that a shame, princess,” he said as he took his jeans off, shaking his huge print through his boxers. Her heart stopped at the size. He was thick and long. Wade wasn’t lying when he told her the story about the one time he accidentally caught him in the shower.

“L-Logan,” she spoke as he slowly crawled over her, smirk growing wider. “Don’t worry, Bub. If you pass out, I’ll wake ya right back up with a hard thrust,” y/n shivered m in fear but more lust. She wanted it. She wanted him.

Logan slowly pulled Y/n’s clothes off, adding kisses along her body with it. He loved every inch of her. He dreamt of kissing all over her body for months.

She thought that after the night when he thought she was Storm, he’d see no interest in her, but he did. He saw more. He saw a new beginning with someone else.

Wade talked to him about moving in, and it was hard when he first got here, but running into y/n made that impossible seem possible.

“I smell someone on you,” Logan broke the silence. “B-But-“ she tried saying. “What did I say if I smelled another man on you, princess?” He asked, but she stayed silent. “That I’ll fuck that pretty little mind dumb, right?” he asked again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” he said, face now inches from hers. She could see how sharp his teeth were. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive. “Y-Yes! Yes, that’s what you said,” she stuttered as her cunt throbbed.

“Yeah, so what do I have to do now, bub?” He asked as his tip grazed across her lips. “F-Fuck me dumb,” she said low, making me grin evilly. “You’re damn right,” Logan forcefully slammed into the non-mutant. She was the right one, but he made it work.

“Fuuuck, yes,” he growled as his eyes rolled back. He knew she’d feel amazing. “C-Cumming,” she cried out, already on the edge. Logan chuckled as he thrust his hips, watching her cum coat his cock.

“That’s right — Wash those other dirty men you spread your whore cunt to. Wash them out!” Logan snapped his hips harder than before, knocking the wind out of y/n.

She loved rough sex, but this was a different level. This wasn’t even the worst he could do to her. Sage could only imagine what this would feel like if he used her toys and ropes.

“Ssh — I know you love this,” Logan’s voice seemed so close, yet so far. She was blacking out, and the hand he had just wrapped around her neck didn’t make it better.

“That’s it, baby. So fuckin’ pretty when you’re passed out. I kinda knew that on our first encounter,” he said, remembering when he first saw her. She was so damn fine, but he couldn’t admit to it shush then.

“Wake up!” Logan pulled his hips all the way back, letting his tip free before plunging right back in her with his loud words.

Y/n woke back up, instantly a whiny mess. “T-Too much,” she cried out, but he ignored her and begged for him to slow down. Instead, he looked at her neck, tasting her skin as he kept pounding into her, balls deep because he knew she needed it like that.

“You’re gonna take me -- Make Wade proud,” Logan whispered, feeling himself come close. He wanted to fill her up. He wanted to keep her forever. He wanted to trap her. If he wasn’t so obsessed with making sure she was happy, he would lock her up in his dark room to keep her away from any danger.

“Take me, baby,” Logan moaned in her neck, muscles flexing as he spilled into her cunt. She squeezed him, sucking him for everything he had. “That’s it — That’s fuckin’ it, Bub,” he slowly stroked into her, loving the feeling of both of their juices mixing together. He knew for sure he’d dream about the sounds too.

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widowbitessting · 1 year ago

Text

Flower Petals on the Floor

Word Count: 996

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Summary: All you wanted to do was surprise the Trio! at work. But the stupid security guard is set on ruining your plan.

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

(I swear I'm not an idiot. I got asks and I lost them. Can I find them? No. I remember it being along the lines of 'a security guard not letting Baby past' so nonnie I am sorry for losing your ask. Just label me stupid I guess. Again, it’s not the best thing I’ve written but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless)

xoxo

It was supposed to be a surprise.

A midweek visit as your classes were called off.

You’d even bought a small bouquet of flowers for each of them.

But would the stupid security man let you in?

No.

No matter what you tried to say, he just wasn’t having it.

“Listen! They know who I am, just let me up!”

“No. Your name isn’t on the list, meaning you can’t come in.” He tells you. “Now go and bug someone else.”

You glower at him, officially irriated.

“I am not bugging - how many times do I have to tell you? I’m their girlfriend!”

“That’s what they all say. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Listen boogers for brains, I don’t know who pissed in your coffee this morning; but I’m here to surprise my girlfriends ‘cos they’re stressed out of their minds and you’re sort of ruining it!”

“Heard it all before, love. Now beat it.”

He shoves you and you stumble back.

“Hey!”

“Get out of my building, doll face.”

“Who are you -”

“I will personally remove you if I have to. Leave.”

He tries to shove you again but you manage to scurry back.

You glare at him.

“Fine. Fine. I’m going. There’s no need to push me. God.”

You stomp out of the reception area and back out the pristine glass doors, where the horrible weather is waiting to soak you.

“Fucking stupid…butt face.”

You stop as the door swings shut behind you and pull your phone out of your pocket; texting the Trio.

Y/N (13:14): Hypothetically…if I was trying to get into your building…what would I need to do?

Carol (13:14): Well hello to you too, cutie.

Carol (13:14): We’d have to put you on the OK list; get you a Visitor ID sorted and so on. Why?

You groan.

Why is nothing ever simple?

Y/N (13:15): No reason

Wanda (13:15): Are you downstairs, baby?

Y/N (13:16): Maybe…? I’m outside…

Natasha (13:15): Go back inside love, we’ll be there in a minute❤️

You quickly do as you’re told, rushing back into the warmth of the building.

Only, you’re met with the same security man as before.

He’s glaring at you.

“Listen love, if you wanted to be handcuffed this badly, all you had to do was ask.”

“What?”

He throws your flowers to the ground and spins you around so fast that you don’t even have the time to make a sarcastic comment.

The cold bite of his handcuffs snag at your skin.

“Listen -”

“No, you listen to me, I’ve had enough of your shit. You’re in detainment until the cops get here, is that understood?”

“Cops? But wait -”

“Save it.”

This has to be the most mortifying ordeal of your life.

Everyone in the open reception space is looking at you and you really don’t know what to do.

And to make it worse, your left shoe keeps squeaking.

“I can’t - I can’t go to jail!”

“Should have thought of that sooner, love.”

He moves you so easily that you make the mental note to start going to the gym.

Dragging you towards the turnstiles.

He scans his ID and pushes you through.

Taking you towards the back door when -

“Greg, any reason you’ve got our girlfriend by the wrists?” Natasha’s voice has you both stopping and you just want to sob in relief.

She glares at the man holding you, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh thank god.” You mutter.

“Yeah, that’s kind of our job.” Carol adds.

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” You glare back at him.

“I was just -”

“Being disrespectful to someone who we care about.” Natasha buts in. “Forget being professional, you were being downright rude. Uncuff her. Right now.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

He lets you go and you quickly move to stand closer to your women; Wanda’s hand quickly finds your waist and holds you close.

“Do you do this to all the visitors that aren’t on the all clear?” Carol asks, putting her hands into her pant pockets.

If things hadn’t been so disastrous, you’d have found it incredibly hot.

…Maybe you still do…

“I - no. I…”

“Go on. We’re waiting.” Wanda snaps.

“I was told to make sure no one got in if they’re not on the all clear.”

“And how do we ensure people do get on the all clear?” Natasha asks, as if she’s speaking to a 1 year old,

“Having one of the reception team buzz up to Kate…”

“And did you do that?” Wanda asks.

“No…”

“Why not?” Says Carol.

“…she…she was testing my patience!”

“And the reasonable thing to do was handcuff our girlfriend and cause a scene?”

“I was handling it accordingly.”

“He hurt my arms.” You pout and nestle into Wanda, hiding your smile.

“I think we should have a little chat, Greg, don’t you think? Bring in the Head of Security too?”

The man visibly pales.

“I think that sounds wonderful.” Natasha adds on. “You’re dismissed. We’ll contact you later when we’re ready.”

And just like that, he’s gone. Practically vanishing in thin air.

“Are you okay, my love?” Carol asks, looking you over and inspecting your wrists. She clocks the red marks where the handcuffs were too tight.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Natasha growls, pulling you in for a tight hug. “My poor girl.”

“We’re gonna put you on the clearance list and get you an ID sorted.” Wanda says. “So you can come straight up next time.”

“Okay.” You pout. “I brought you flowers but he…” You point to the flowers littered on the floor.

“Aw, baby girl.” Natasha sighs. “We appreciate the gesture. C’mon. Wanna come see where we work?”

You nod.

Natasha takes your hand and leads you to the elevators.

They open almost as soon as you get there and the four of you walk inside.

Carol presses their floor and you grin up at her.

Until she asks:

“Baby girl. Where’s your coat?”

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #sugar mommies!asks #spiderbites #smu #little liv writes!#smu universe #sugar mommies drabble

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nadvs · 5 months ago

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For sleeping with the enemy, can we get Rafe and reader first time saying “I love you.” How would that go for them? Who would say it first?

ofc!! she says it first and it comes out during a fight 👀

based on this fic, mentioned in this blurb

he’s been living a three-hour flight away for one month of their seven-month relationship. she’s still in college while he’s playing in the nba and she’s visiting him for the first time since he moved.

after they got to his condo from the airport, they slept together and now they’re eating dinner in his kitchen. there’s still tension between them, because of how much they’ve been arguing on the phone since he left. because of how they had a silent spell for days and she said they needed it. because they weren’t even in a good place to begin with when he moved away.

rafe asked if that was goodbye sex they just had and she won’t even entertain the thought. she worries he’ll never get over his fear of abandonment, so she reassures him that she doesn’t want to leave him.

he brings up things she said in their last argument, spiteful things she regrets, and she says, “i didn’t mean that. we both say things to hurt each other and we need to stop.”

and he says, “the shit i say isn’t even close to the shit you say.”

she leans back in her chair, her mouth firm. he always does this, tries to convince her that what she did was worse.

“i can’t fight with you again,” she says. “i swear, it’s like you push me away on purpose.”

“me? you’re the one who said we needed a break.”

“we did. but only because all we were doing was arguing.”

rafe stands up, sighing heavily, the heels of his hands covering his eyes. he always does this when they argue, making distance between them. sometimes she’s worried he’ll storm out.

“for fuck’s sake,” he mutters, so damn defeated that they’re fighting again.

she exhales quietly, feeling her throat tightening with tears. this has been so exhausting. she watches him pace around his kitchen. his new high-rise is such a big, shiny reminder of his new life. she worries she doesn’t have a place in it sometimes.

“i just meant i’d rather we take some time off than fight,” she says.

“well, i’d rather fight.”

“and just keep hurting each other?”

“it hurts more not talking to you,” rafe admits.

a few seconds of silence pass between them.

“i don’t want to break up,” she says softly.

“you think i do?” he snaps.

“no. but i think you force me to talk sometimes and then when i do talk, you hold grudges over the things i say.”

“hard not to,” he mutters.

she looks down at the table, eyelids fluttering shut.

“i don’t…” she begins. “my mind is blank at this point. i don’t get why we can’t just be how we were before.”

“because you talk like that,” he says. “like there’s no way we’ll work things out.”

“i don’t,” she counters. “all i’m saying is i miss when we were happy.”

his heart drops. he leans against the counter, eyes boring into her.

“you’re not happy?” he says quietly.

“in general, with you, i am,” she tells him. “but right now? are you? honestly?”

he crosses his arms, jaw tightening as he gazes at her. she looks so broken, sitting at his kitchen table, her lip trembling.

“no,” he admits. how could he be happy when there’s a hole where his heart should be?

she nods in a way that confirms that she knew it.

“it hurts not talking to you, too,” she finally says. “just so you know.”

she watches rafe from across the kitchen, gazing at his profile as he looks down. he doesn’t seem to believe her.

so, even though she’s absolutely terrified that he won’t say it back, that he’s already giving up on them because he seems so convinced that she has, she stands and slowly approaches him, resting her hands on his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i love you, you know that?” she says. his eyes soften, the tension on his shoulders unraveling.

“what?” his voice is almost at a whisper.

“you want me to say it again?” she says with a small smile.

“yeah. say it again.”

“i love you.”

“i love you,” he tells her, his words rushed. “i love you so much. i loved you before you were even my girlfriend.”

her stomach numbs.

“you did?” she says.

he closes his lips over hers, his face almost twisting in pain over how badly he needed to hear that. he kisses her over and over, spiralling into breathlessness.

“why didn’t you tell me?” she whispers, their foreheads touching.

“because if you didn’t say it back, i think i’d die,” rafe admits. he’s never told a girl he loved her. he never got even close to love with anyone else.

but even when they were just friends, he’d take every opportunity to stare at her, to sink into the sound of her laughter. he loved her before he knew he could love somebody.

“do you think we could start my visit right now?” she says. “everything before now doesn’t count. we have a blank slate. can we do that?”

rafe nods.

“we can do that.”

“do you want to take a walk around the city?” she asks. “your condo’s nice, but i’d like to actually explore.”

he smirks. and he thinks about how nice it’d be for her to call it their condo one day.

“yeah,” he agrees.

#ask #swteblurb

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strniohoeee · 1 year ago

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because matt is so tough lately can you write something about reader trying to show him her love with cutesy thing but hes just tough and even snaps at her for lil things and one time reader starts crying and tell him how she feels and matt feels bad and apologize and then some fluff

Can’t You See?

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N can’t understand why Matt is being such an ass to her. She’s going through her own stuff, and tries her best to be the best for Matt, but it just not good enough🩶 I also combined it with this request reader starts getting depressed but matt is an idiot and doesn’t notice and even makes it worse by being angry always than nick and chris talk to him and then he makes it up with fluffy ending

Warnings⚠️: Matt is an asshole in this which is not at all how Id think he’d actually be, but I had to do it🤭 Hope yall enjoy🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: Mark My Words- Justin Bieber

So you heard it all before

Falling in and out of trust

Trying to rekindle us

Only to lose yourself

But I won’t let me lose you

And I won’t let us just fade away

These past few weeks I have been at an all time low mentally. It’s been getting harder and harder to pull myself out of bed and get stuff done. I hated this feeling because it destroyed my life outside of my head.

At first Matt was understanding and even tried to help me, but this wasn’t something he could help me with. This was my own battle. I had to try and fix myself. I hated to put this on him and his brothers because I didn’t want them to stop what they were doing for me.

I often removed myself from them, focusing on myself when I got like this. They always checked up on me, but I made it clear I was okay on my own.

Most days I would wake up and shower and just sit in bed for hours staring at a wall or scrolling on my phone. Often forgetting to eat or drink water. At first they tried to help me, but then they went on with their lives doing what they needed to do, and I didn’t mind. That was until Matt started getting upset

I was once again sitting in Matt’s bed today in complete darkness curled up in a ball looking at the wall just thinking. It’s crazy how fast time goes when you’re not paying attention. Suddenly the door opened the lights flickered on causing me to squint

“Have you gotten up at all today?” Matt asked bluntly

“I have” I said in a whisper

“Are you just going to sit in bed everyday and mope around?” He asked opening his closet to change his outfit

“I’m not moping matt” I said not even looking over at him

“Yes you are, I’m trying to get you to get up and go out, see some light, and all you can do is lay around and stare at the wall” he said scoffing at me

“You’re being a dick” I said to him

“I’m not I’m being honest, and you clearly don’t like honesty” he said looking through his closet

“I’m going through something right now, and I’m really struggling to feel better, so you coming in here and barking at me isn’t helping” I said to him

“So get up, like force yourself up and let’s go do something. We can go for a ride or to the boardwalk or even to eat….just something” he said

“I don’t want to get up okay, you don’t get it” I said back

“I do get it. Do you know how many days I wake up and I want to roll over and stay in my room, but I can’t because I actually have a job to do and content to create” he replied back

I turned over completely appalled at his words

“Actually have a job? We both have the same fucking job you fucking asshole” I said looking at him

“Well look who’s putting in the work and who isn’t” he said looking over at me

“You’re such a fucking piece of shit when you want to be” I said rolling my eyes

“I tried to be there for you, but this has been going on for so long, and it’s exhausting trying to help you” he replied slipping his shirt on

“No one fucking asked you to help me I said I got it on my own. I’m so fucking sorry my depression is taking such a toll on you” I said getting up from the bed

“It’s upsetting to just see you lay here and waste your days away” he said looking over at me

“Can’t you see?…..YOU JUST DONT GET IT” I yelled the last part at him

Opening his door and walking out slamming the door behind me. I was fuming and I needed to get out of the house immediately.

I grabbed my purse and my car keys from the table

“Hey you okay?” Nick asked me as I walked into the living room

“Yeah I’m fine your brothers being a dick” I said

“Classic Matt” Chris responded

“Where are you going?” Matt suddenly asked from the kitchen

“I’m leaving” I said with my back to him

“This is what it took for you to get up? Was an argument? It’s shocking how upset you get over small things” he responded

“Matt shut the fuck up” Chris said to him

“I’m not mad I’m disappointed that you of all people are acting this way towards me” I said finally looking over at him

“I was just trying to help you” he said

“Whatever I’m going” I said turning to walk down the stairs

“Where?” Matt asked

“Away from you. I need space from you” I said

With that I walked down the stairs and hopped into my car deciding to drive back to my apartment. Once I got home I decided to shower and listen to music while I cooked something for myself

I loved Matt but his communication skills were horrible. It’s crazy that this small argument put some drive into me to start doing stuff. I was filled with so much anger and hurt from Matt. This was not who he was, and I wasn’t sure if he was going through something himself, or if I was genuinely making him upset.

I allowed myself to hurt and cry in the comfort of my own home. Scared that this would cause our relationship to end, but also scared that it could be something I wanted too.

I slept it off that day, and hadn’t spoken to Matt in three days. I would text Nick and Chris letting them know I was okay, and that I wasn’t too sure what I wanted to do as far as our relationship.

Another three days went by, and it was a good week now since I last saw Matt. Around the fifth day he started to call me, but I ignored his calls, truly needing this time to think.

On the eighth day I felt better, and I really missed Matt. I wanted to make things up to him and make things right. I decided to go on a small shopping spree for him and write him a cute letter attached to a new stuffed animal I got him.

After shopping I decided to head over to the triplets house letting Nick know I’d be over shortly. He left the door unlocked for me. I made my way to their front door letting myself in.

“Hi guys” I said walking up the stairs

“Heyyy you’re back” Chris said

“I am” I said giggling

“Are you feeling any better?” Nick asked me

“I feel much better. I think I just really needed those last days to think about everything and figure out what I wanted to do” I responded

“Are you breaking up with his bitch ass?” Chris asked laughing

“No I came to apologize to him” I said

“Apologize to him? You didn’t do anything wrong” Nick said

“I feel like I shut him out and I lacked communication with him, and that’s why I want to say sorry” I told him

“Aww okay” Nick said

“He’s in his room” Chris said

I nodded and walked over to Matt’s room, opening the door to see him lying on his bed scrolling through his phone.

“Matt” I said shutting the door behind me

“Baby” he said getting off the bed and coming over to kiss and hug me

“I missed you” I said kissing him again

“I missed you too” he said looking down at me

“I brought you gifts to say I’m sorry” I said smiling at him

“Oh yeah?” He said nodding at me

I gave him the stuffed animal and the bags of stuff. He walked over to his bed placing the stuffed animal on his bed and sitting down to look in the bags

He pulled out shirts and beanies and a new necklace

“Why’d you get me this?” He said his mood suddenly changing

“Well to say I’m sorry for not talking to you” I said

“You sit around moping and then suddenly you feel better to go shopping? This is all so expensive, why'd you waste your money?” He said looking at me

“What? I’m confused right now” I said shaking my head

“You don’t talk to me, but you think buying me expensive stuff is going to fix us?” He said

“Matt, are you joking? I came here to apologize to you for not opening up to you and taking your advice. I wanted to spoil you with my hard earned money, and this is how you treat me?” I said scoffing

“I just wanted you to talk to me not do this shit” he said putting the stuff back in his bag

“I don’t know what happened to you Matt, and I’m sorry if you’re going through your own issues right now, but this is not you” I said shaking my head

“I’m fine” he said sternly

“You’re clearly not you’re snapping at me for no reason” I said

“I’m not snapping” he said

“You know what Matt. If you don’t want to be with me just say that, okay? I’m over this! I’m leaving” I said walking out of his room

I walked to the living room and Nick stopped me

“What’s going on?” He said reading my demeanor

“I don’t know what’s going on with your brother but that’s not the guy I fell in love with” I said clenching my jaw

“What’s wrong with this kid?” Chris suddenly said

“I don’t know, but I’m over it. I’m leaving” I said huffing out a breath

I left their house and headed back to my place. Even more angry than our first initial fight. Why was he being such a fucking dick?

Nicks POV

“Matt what the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked him

“Nothings wrong” Matt said scoffing

“You’re being a complete fucking dick to Y/N, and she didn’t do anything to you” I responded back

“She just makes me upset sometimes with how she does thing” he said back

“So then like an adult you use your words. You don’t just lash out like a child” I told him

“I didn’t lash out like a child” he said getting upset

“Yes you did, and you get upset easily. You need to figure your shit out, or she’s going to leave you, and I wouldn’t be shocked if she did” I told him

“You know what fuck you” he said and stomped to his room

Matt had sat on his bed running his hands through his hair looking down at the bags of clothes Y/N had got him. He let out a sigh and leaned back, suddenly landing on a stuffed animal and hearing a crunch of paper

He furrowed his brows and reached behind him, he pulled the stuffed animal out, and saw a note attached to the front. It read Matt with a heart next to his name.

Matt opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. He began to read and his facial features softened

To my beautiful boy,

I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you, that's not what I intended. I’ve been struggling with my own depression, and it’s not something I want to put on you or your brothers because I know you go through so much daily. I appreciate you being there for me, and being my shoulder to cry on. I love you. I’m sorry if you’re going through anything yourself, and I haven’t given you the comfortability or time to express yourself. You haven’t been the same these past few weeks, and I hope it’s not something I’ve done. I care for you and I worry for you, and even though your words hurt me the other day I can not hold it against you. Deep down I know you’re fighting your own demons, but I just want you to talk to me. Our communication has been awful lately, and I’m not sure why. Please know that I’m always here for you no matter what. Rain or shine I’ll be there for you my love. I just want us to be how we used to be happy and in love. I love you with my whole heart Matthew!

Sincerely,

Your biggest fan

Matt immediately shot up, his heart falling to his stomach. Immediately he felt the guilt and disgust wash over him. How could he be so mean and awful to you? You have been there for him through thick and thin. You were his rock and he was treating you horribly

Matt jumped up immediately grabbing his keys, and running out to head over to you. In a hurry he walked down the stairs shouting to his brothers he’d be back home soon.

He got in the car and immediately started his way over to you. How could he hurt his baby? His number one in life. He was so hurt he couldn’t even focus on anything else. About 20 minutes later he arrived to your apartment complex, walking up to your floor and knocking on your door

You opened the door with saddened eyes, and a confused look on your face.

“You’re my everything. I have never wanted anything more in life than you. I have been the worst boyfriend to you during a time where you needed my support the most. You didn’t deserve to be spoken to the way you were. And for that I can not forgive myself for. I was a piece of shit and you tried to be understanding. If you no longer see a future with me because of how I acted I completely understand that” Matt said looking me in the eyes

“Matt? I….” I couldn’t even form a sentence I was shocked

“I love you, and if you don’t want to see me right now I get that. I will give you space and I will leave” he said turning on his heels to walk away

“Matt wait” I called out to him which caused him to turn back around

“You were a piece of shit and the things you said were awful, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I know deep down you're struggling with your own issues, and if you don’t want to talk about them that’s fine, but just know communication is key, and it goes both ways” I said looking at him

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” he said letting his head hang

“It’s okay Matt, come in” I said pulling him in to my apartment

“It’s not okay. I was horrible to you and I don’t deserve you” he said sitting down

“Don’t speak like that. We deserve each other, you just have a hard time communicating, and I understand that” I said walking over to him

“It’s just seeing you so hurt and depressed made me so angry because I couldnt bare to see my baby struggling and not feeling like you were able to come and talk to me. It hurt me, and instead of talking to you about it I let that hurt turn into anger” he said

“I’m sorry for completely shutting you out of my life for those past few weeks. It wasn’t right, and that was a time I needed you the most and I just pushed you so far away” I told him

“I promise to communicate with you about how I feel so we can work everything out, I don’t want to fight with you” he said pulling me into him

“And I don’t want to fight with you either Matthew. I love you” I said smiling at him

“I love you too” he said letting a tear fall from his eye

“Don’t cry my love it’s okay” I said pulling him into me

Matt completely broke down in my arms

“It’s not okay I hurt you and I can’t live with the fact that I said such awful things to you” he said in sobs

“This will make us stronger as a couple okay, we now know how to go about our issues without it boiling over” I said petting the back of his head

“I’m sorry….im so fucking sorry” he said pulling away and looking at me

“It’s okay, I love you okay” I said wiping his eyes and looking at him

“I love you too” he responded

I pulled Matt in and kissed him. It was a deep passionate kiss. A kiss that we so badly needed.

Matt laid in my arms the whole night as we spoke to each other. Talking about our feelings and how we wanted to change. He listened to every word I said carefully and I did the same

Matt was my ride or die, and I could not live without him.

The End

Alright guys I hope both people who requested this imagine enjoyed it! I loved writing this one! And I hope yall enjoyed it 🤭🤭🖤🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines

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urinarythreatinfection · 2 months ago

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Alright since you want requests, how about good ol Sanji figuring out that he likes a guy? Lmao.

Poor Sangni. You know for all the shit people (me too) give him, he kinda turned out really good compared to all the things he went through. Also I ❤️ comments on my fics.

Confusion in My Love

Sanji x male reader. fluff. tw for for internalized homophobia. Contains a medium fishman island spoiler. 1375 words.

It’s known that Sanji has an innate preference towards women, and an innate hate towards men. It’s a fact of life the same way the sky is blue, or it was until you. He acts differently around you, a man. Not how he treats Luffy or Zoro, no, there’s something else. Something that makes him weak towards you, something that makes it so when you make a mistake he doesn’t feel like getting angry or mocking you. Something that’s making him feel different.

“Sanji!” His heart skips a beat when he hears your voice while giving Nami and Robin their beverages. “Can I get one too?” You ask with a smile. Everyone expects him to say no, right about now he’d be too “busy” fawning over the women, after all. Schedule full. However…

“Alright.” …he agrees. Like it was instinct, before he could even realize what he was agreeing to. It causes everyone to go silent except for Luffy, who hadn’t realized what was weird until Usopp whispered it in his ear. Sanji knows it’s weird too, but he’d already said yes to you, and he just can’t bring himself to change his mind. So he retreats instead. To the kitchen, his oasis, to make your drink. Once he’s inside he crouches down and puts his head in his hands. “Why did I say that!?” He yells at himself. This stupid something has only been getting worse. Not being as angry at you to not wanting to get angry at you to complimenting you. Now he’s even making a midday beverage for you like he would with a lady! “Why am I doing this!?” He stands up and starts to make the drink, keeping himself busy will surely help him stop thinking about it, but it fails. It’s only when he’s poured the finished product inside the glass that he spots his reflection, his face with flushed cheeks. He touches them as his heart beats faster, is he sick? That has to be it there’s now way, right? Nonono he loves women he’s a woman lover, men are disgusting creatures that he would never develop romantic love for! However the more he thinks about it the more everything he feared and denied is coming together, making his repressed emotions crash down on him.

“Hey, Sanji?” You walk into the kitchen and find him with his elbows on the counter, head in his hands. “Damn if you really didn’t want to make me the drink you don’t have to force yoursel-” You notice tears dripping on the marble “-are you crying!?” When he spots you they flow from his eyes harder.

“hic..unng…” He puts his face back into his hands, sobbing as his emotions overwhelm him, stronger from all the years of internalized homophobia from misinformation. If he’s gay does that mean he has to crossdress all the time now? He likes his suit though… now he just made himself cry more. He feels like a stupid little kid again. You go up to him, confused but rubbing his back as he lets everything out and tries to imagine all the things he’s going to end up doing now that he’s gay. Cooking with long nails, fighting with dresses, having to do makeup every morning, saying kya…

“Sanji what’s up with you, man? Did having to make a free drink for a guy make you this heartbroken?” Crazy conclusion but he’s almost died from a nosebleed so it isn’t that out of the question.

“I’m gay…” He sniffles. “What do I do?”

“Huh??” You look at him with a confused expression. “You’re crying because you’re gay? Sanji it’s not something to be ashamed of, Luffy isn’t going to kick you off the ship. I’m not even sure he knows or even cares what that means.”

“Maybe, but how am I going to cook with long nails?” He looks at his hands in despair. “And is he going to accept me if I wear dresses and makeup?”

“Do you… want to wear dresses and makeup?” The blonde wipes his eyes when you question him.

“..maybe.” Sanji mumbles then quickly yells after. “I don’t know!”

“I feel like you have a misconception on what being gay is. I don’t know what you’re thinking but you don’t have to do anything to be gay besides being attracted to the same sex.”

“But the ladies…” He still wants to like women, he doesn’t know what that means.

“Sanji there are other options besides gay or straight, you can like both men and women, and you don’t have to do whatever you’re thinking if you don’t want to. You’d be a beautiful crossdresser or non-crossdresser. In fact, you don’t even need to be a crossdresser to wear makeup. I don’t- I- How did you even come to this conclusion.”

“In Kambakka.” He states, that makes sense.

“Oh.” You scratch the back of your neck. “Well I don't think them being gay is the reason they’re that way. Did they not tell you this?” He shakes his head. “Yeah well I guess they wouldn’t have expected for you to be this-” ‘ignorant’ “-uh.. mal-informed. Anyway I mean what I say. You’re still you and you get to be you. How did you end up figuring out you liked men anyway?

“Ugh…” He feels stupid now, getting emotional over nothing as he wipes his eyes. “It’s because I like y-” Sanji stops, immediately sobering up once he realizes his mistake. “yyyyoung men my age.”

“Oh? Did you see someone you liked at the last island?” You’re starting to get curious and his face goes red again as he sputters, blue eyes swimming around for an escape when he remembers the drink he made you. He grabs it and quickly gives it to you.

“Here! I finished it not too long ago, drink it while it’s still fresh.” You grab onto it, accepting he doesn’t want to talk. This must be a vulnerable moment for him.

“Well, okay. Just know whatever you end up being, I still care about you, kay?” You smile at him and he heats up more, his feelings stronger now that he realizes what they are.

“Me too, I.. care about you—too.” He’s struggling, jolting when you rub his back.

“We care about each other then, and thanks for the drink.” You walk out of the kitchen with a wink. Once you’re gone Sanji slowly sinks to his knees, sighing. His hand goes to his chest, feeling his beating heart.

“This…feels so weird..!” He rests his back on a shelf door, pupils into hearts as he gets dizzy. “Love love love..” That repeats in his head. He loves you, adores you, filled with nice feelings the moment you look his way. “I love him."

There’s a lot to think about now that he’s realized this but if this light, pleasant feeling he’s getting is because he loves you.. maybe a crush on a guy isn’t so bad.

_____________________

Bonus past memory from Kamabakka:

“GAHH GET AWAY FROM ME! I’M NOT GAY!!” Sanji screams while running from the Okamas. He’d been running the whole day now and eventually manages to lose them, that's what he thinks anyway. They’re actually just hiding to let him rest.

“He keeps calling us gay, we’re Okamas.” One of them says, an idea popping up. “You… don’t think he thinks all queer people are like us, right?”

…

“No way~” They all brush it off as another speaks up. “I mean it’s pretty obvious what the difference is, he’s gone traveling he’s must’ve met another queer person.”

“Right right.”

“I’m never going to be like them, I like women. I’m not an Okama.” They hear him say as he catches his breath, making them pause.

“Ah…” They nervously look at eachother

“Well.. he’s going to be here for two years. He should figure it out eventually, right?”

“Yeah, we’ll try and help him too! He’s precious after all.”

Unknown to them, he hadn’t figured it out. In fact, he was so terrified of them that even when they did try giving him pointers he kept blocking it out. But it’s alright, there’s no way he’d do something like think it’s mandatory for gay people to crossdress… probably.

#anime only #one piece x reader #fanfiction #fluff #sanji x reader #sanji x male reader #male reader #one shot

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writer-by-the-sea · 3 months ago

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Um, hi! I'm new and I really like your works!

I want to make a request for Haley and Penny (separate) if that's okay with you!

Scenario: how would they react when they find out that their s/o, the farmer, used to be a member of the Mafia? A hitman to be exact, but they've changed and left that life behind.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a full on headcanon before, but I figured why not!

Instead of doing mini fics for only two characters, I am going to attempt to write these thoughts into a slightly coherent but readable mess. WARNING: These do not all end happily. Some are very heavy angst and they break up with you.

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“There’s… something I need to tell you,” the farmer began, rubbing the back of their neck while they looked away from the person in front of them. Someone that they’ve come to love, to trust enough to finally open up to, and someone who might understand.”Before moving to Stardew… I was... Part of a very bad crowd,” they pause and take a deep breath. “Not just a little group of delinquents that spray paint the side of buildings.

“Something.. Far worse. I know that you might view me differently because of this but– I want you to know who I truly am. I never want to lie to you, and while I wanted to keep this secret buried deep inside; I care about you too much to allow you to continue dating me without knowing…

“I was a hired killer, an assassin, a hitman.”

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Alex

“Hey, man, you don’t have to lie to me to look cool,” Alex laughed and gave you a thumbs up. “You’re already really cool in my book.”

You grimace before saying, “Alex, I’m not lying.”

“Oh,” he breathes out. A minute passes, the gears turning in his head as he thinks it over. “Ohhh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you reply. “I understand if you need some space–”

Alex leaned back into his bed, letting himself land softly on his back. “Gramps has killed a few guys, so I’m not really worried about it.”

You look down at him and raise a single brow, “Wasn’t that in war though?”

“It was, but it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

“Not.. really.”

Alex shrugs and sighs, “if you asked him for stories, he would spend the rest of the day telling you every single bloody detail. I’ve heard them all a thousand times.” He sat up, dropping her face to a sneer and pulled his lips back. “During that war,” he began, perfectly mimicking his grandfather. “I killed fitty men! I collected their earlobes and wore them around my neck like a trophy!”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into Alex. “Okay, that’s a little fucked up actually.”

“You haven’t even heard the worst of it,” he answered with a grin. “He likes to tell this story about the time they had to go save some guy–”

“Wait,” you cut him off, gently placing your fingertips against his lips to stop him. “I just.. I want you to know that I love you, and that all of that shit is in the past… but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this.”

Alex pushed your hands away with his lips, laughing again as he pulled back. “It’s alright, I get it. Just don’t keep anything else from me, okay?”

You nodded and pulled him into your arms, giving him a good squeeze. “I promise.”

Alex slid out of your arms and ran to his bedroom door, swinging it open before playfully glaring at you. “As punishment for not telling me in the first place!” He took a really deep breath filling his lungs before shouting “Grandpa! The farmer wants to hear all your war stories!”

Alex wasn’t scared of you. Afterall, nothing you’ve done could ever compare to the stories he grew up with. He knew his grandpa regretted the choices he made, but sometimes, you have to do cruel things to survive.

Elliott

Elliott quickly grabbed his wine, downing the glass in one huge gulp before placing it back onto the table. “What you’re telling me,” he whispered, his gaze focused on the empty wine glass. “You’re being truthful? This isn’t a jest?”

“No,” you answered, scooting your chair closer to his. “Just.. I know you’re in shock right now, but please just give me a chance to explain–”

“This is wonderful news!” Elliott jumped up from his chair, darting to a notebook that lies open with scribbles across the pages. He sprinted back, throwing himself back into the chair as harshly it nearly toppled over with him in it. “Tell me, what does another man’s eyes look like as you choke the life out of him?”

“W-what?” you stammered, glancing down at the notebook that was now on the table where Elliott held his quill above it, ready to write. “Are you trying to get a confession from me?”

“Heavens no!” He replied with a laugh, putting his quill down and turning to grab your hands. “My next novel is a murder mystery! I would love to have your feedback.”

“You’re kidding,” you replied, your mouth hanging open.

“Not at all, my love!” Elliott smiled so brightly, you would have thought you just told him his book had a million sales; not that you used to kill people for a living. “It truly is destiny that we were to meet!”

“Do… Are you okay with my past?”

“Ah,” Elliott nodded, understanding now why you seemed so hesitant with your words. “We all have our demons, don’t we, darling? If I were ever to judge every person I knew by the skeletons in their closet.. Well, life wouldn’t be very fun, now would it?”

“I’m…” you tried to focus, confusion swirling in your head making everything foggy and hard to follow. “What?”

Elliott was already back to his notebook, licking the pad of his thumb while he flipped through the pages. “This part here,” he held the book out to you, the page filled with brainstorms and more messy scribbles. “Could you fact check it for me? I honestly don’t know what a man sounds like when he gets stabbed like this. Also, the shoulder would be a good spot for them to survive from a stab, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head at this ridiculous man. “Well, actually, there’s a main artery that going along the shoulder–”

Part of you wasn’t surprised that Elliott was excited to discuss bloody, brutal, cold murder with you. Although, the writer did make a point the next day to scold you for keeping the secret from him. He could have finished his novel even sooner, and… he could have told you how much he loves you and would never give you up.

In fact, he would help you get away with murder.

Harvey

“No,” Harvey stood abruptly, his knee hitting his kitchen table and nearly knocking his coffee over, the hot liquid jumping out of the mug and onto the table. “Shoot!” he cried as the coffee landed on some of his folders that were spread out.

You joined him in grabbing napkins, trying to clean the coffee before it caused too much damage.

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered as he tossed the dirty napkins aside, uncaring of where they would land. “Not you, not my farmer, no…”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back your emotions. “Harvey–”

Then he broke before you, a sob ripping through his throat right before he began sobbing. His glasses getting wet and foggy as he let each tear slide down his cheeks. “Not you…”

“Please, I just–”

Harvey straightened up, taking a deep breath and forced himself to meet your eyes. “I have dedicated my whole life to helping those who need it. I took an oath to assist any single soul that cries for help. If a patient dies on my table, I have to live with that for the rest of my life. The rest of my life knowing that I couldn’t do enough for them!”

Your eyes widen, dread filling you as you realize this is the end. “Harvey, please–”

“Get out,” he growled, his voice deep, dangerous, and oozing with hatred.

“Let me explain–”

“For you to come to me, and tell me that you took human lives for your own gain? I don’t need to hear another word,” Harvey took a step towards you, his body tensing, preparing to fight you if he must. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

Everything in you wanted to stay, to fight for what you had…

You left, crying on your way back to the farm, your heart shattered beyond repair.

Sam

“For real?” Sam's face scrunched in disbelief. “No, you’ve gotta be joking. Ain’t no way the hot farmer killed some dudes.”

While your hands may have been tough from constantly working in the dirt, Sam could never imagine in a million years that you would kill a fly on the wall, let alone another human being!

“Is it April Fool’s? It is, isn't it?” he joked and nudged you. “Well, you got me–”

“Sam,” you breathed out in reply, the truth hanging between you.

“Holy shit,” Sam stood slowly, taking a step back from you. “You’re serious? You’ve actually killed people?”

“Yes.”

“Dude…” he ran a hand through his wild hair, not caring how the gel stuck to his fingers.

He needed more information, but right now, he needed to make one thing clear.

“Look,” he started and made his way back to you, dropping himself on his mattress next to you. “Like, I’m not gonna dump you over this; but keeping that from me was seriously not cool.”

“I know,” you mumbled in reply and offered a weak smile. “I just–”

Sam raised a hand, cutting you off. “No, we’re gonna talk about this later, after we’ve both had some pizza, and maybe a couple… or an entire case of beer. You’re gonna break all this shit down for me, and then we’re gonna talk about how you’re doing like.. Mentally. After doing all that shit.”

“Mentally?” you asked with a laugh. “What--”

“Nope,” Sam stood and grabbed your hand. “Pizza first, you asshole. I can’t believe you killed people, so fucking weird.”

Sam was in it for the long run, and while he viewed you differently (as like, a cold blooded killer what the fuck,) he wasn’t going to give up on you just because of a dark past.

Sebastian

“I mean, who hasn’t?”

Your head whips up to stare back at Sebastian, not sure you just hear those words correctly. “Wait–”

“You think I haven’t killed a man? Why do you think I hide out in the basement coding shit all day instead of living in the city and making a fortune? Be realistic.”

“Sebastian, I–”

“No, it’s cool. I really don’t care,” he said with a shrug and went back to typing on his computer.

“Well, no, wait; Sebastian that’s a lot to drop on someone–”

“Hey, I wasn’t a fucking hitman though now was I?”

“I don’t know, were you?!”

He shrugs again, reaching for an open pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He takes a deep drag and then blows it out slowly. “I’m gonna go get some leftover pumpkin soup, I made it last night, you want some?”

You just stare back at him, your jaw hanging open. Now you were the one that needed more information!

But, you supposed that could wait. Pumpkin soup was on the line, afterall.

Shane

He takes a sip of his soda, savoring the flavor and bubbles before putting his can back down on the kitchen table.

“So,” he began, forcing himself to sit up straight and meet your eyes.

“Are you here to kill me then?”

“What?”

“Are you.. here, to kill me?” Shane asked again, slowly.

“No!” you shouted and waved your hands in front of you like a white flag. “You’ve got the wrong idea!”

“I’m not telling you how I made the chickens blue, you can beat me to the brink of death and I’ll never spill–”

“Shane, babe, no– well actually how do you–” you stopped speaking as Shane glared at you and narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind the chickens, I’m not here to kill you.”

“To kill Marnie then?” He asks. “To end the competition for milk and eggs? You make me sick,” he spit.

“No, what? I turn all my milk into cheese to make you Pepper Poppers or Pizza–”

“Then the eggs!” He declares and stands up, pointing a finger down where you sat.

“Please, just listen to me,” you stood with him, on the verge of tears knowing that this could be the end–

Shane’s frown twitched, so quick you could almost miss it.

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Oh, I see. You came here to kill Willy, with your gaping fish mouth.”

Any doubt or worries you had dropped instantly. “You’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I found your list of names a few months ago. You really shouldn’t leave that stuff lying around you know?”

“Yoba,” you sighed in relief and dropped back into your chair, the wood lightly squeezing on the tiled floor. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You kept your head down, ashamed to have ever tried to hide this from him.

Shane chuckled and sat back down, “I figured you’d tell me when the time was right.”

You risked a glance at Shane, “do you hate me for it.”

“Hate you? Of all people to hate someone for the mistakes they made in their past, you think I’m going to be one of them? I’m a little offended, farmer.”

“I’m sorry,” you cracked a smile as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with all of the love and support in the world.

He was right, Shane would never judge you for your past, just as you never judge him for his. The only thing that matters is the kind of person you are moving forward, and that suits him just fine.

Abigail

The first thing she asks, with a wicked grin and excited eyes, “So, how many people did you kill?”

While she knows the value of a human life, she could never allow her thoughts to wander towards ‘what if I killed someone?’ She feared she may pursue it herself.

“What was your weapon of choice?” she would ask next, hardly containing the buzz flowing through her body from the quick high; knowing she was talking to (dating!) a certified badass killer.

She does view you differently, however.

Not as an evil person, as you might have expected; but someone strong enough to protect her, someone who told her this knowing that she might turn away from them, someone who loves her enough to put her first.

The subject is sensitive, and she knows not to tease you too much or ask for too many details; but she does ask for the occasional story – if you’re willing to give it.

Emily

She gasps, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stares back at you in horror. “W-what do you m-mean,” she stumbles over her words, her hands now shaking as she lowers them away from her face, trying to steady them as they rest in her lap. “You.. you actually, ki–” she can’t finish the sentence.

“I did what I had to, to get by. Please understand that I’m not a bad person-”

“You killed people,” she dropped her head and watched as tears fell into her lap. “You actually killed people…”

“Emily–”

“How can I trust you after this?!” She jumped up, still shaking while she paced around her room. “How can I know that you’re not withholding more?!”

You stood and put your hands on her shoulders, holding her in place, but she refused to meet your eyes. “I swear to you, I will never hide something from you again… if you just give me a chance to prove myself.”

Emily dropped her head onto your shoulder, softly sobbing and letting her tears drip onto your shirt. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

“Okay,” you whispered back, your arms moving down to wrap around her. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

There would be a lot of trust issues moving forward, and Emily would keep you on a tight leash for a while; but she knew that not everyone was perfect, and while she might not like your past, she loves who you are now. And she’s not willing to give up yet.

Haley

She looked up from her phone, her brow dropping down and her eyes narrowing, “Ew.”

You tried not to snort a laugh at her reply, but failed miserably. “That’s all you have to say? Ew?”

She rolled her eyes at you, “what else am I supposed to say? Oh no, please don’t kill me, super scary hitman?”

“Uh,” you looked around you as if you could find the answer hovering in the air. “I’m.. not.. sure, honestly.”

Another eyeroll. “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it’s worth. I’m still going to love you no matter what dumb shit you’ve done in your past. I mean, did you know that I dyed my hair black once? Also, ew. Total regret.”

Bewildered, you plopped down beside her, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t care?”

“Ugh. Of course I care,” she slapped you on the side and finally put her phone aside. “But you obviously regret it, like I did with the black hair, and while our past mistakes may have been huge; it doesn’t dictate who we are today. So, don’t worry about it.”

“You realize you’re comparing black hair to the murder of a.. Lot of people?”

“Babe,” she took a deep breath, staring deep into your eyes, begging you to understand…

“I used a box dye. Tell me a worse crime than that.”

You laughed together, her crime never coming close to your misdeeds, and she knew it. But after getting to know you, she knew she could continue to trust you just as she always has.

Leah

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Leah threw her paintbrush at you, hitting you in the chest and leaving a splotch of yellow paint. “Not again!”

“Again?!” you shouted back in shock. “What do you mean again!?”

“Tell me,” she hissed. “How many, what organization, and why the hell did you make me fall in love with you?!”

“Leah,”

“Do. Not. Leah. Me.” Each word spit in your direction. “Answer me.”

You sighed, “it was a lot of people.. The organization was international and I never really knew who was in charge..” Closing your eyes, just to get away from her angry glare for a moment, you continued, “I never meant to mislead you. I wanted to tell you the truth to see if I even still stood a chance with you.”

Leah relaxed, shaking her head before finding a place to sit down. “Thanks, for telling me, I guess.”

Moving to her side, you kneeled next to her, taking her paint stained hands into your own. “Please, just give me a chance to make this up to you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well. You did,” she gently pulled her hands away, turning away from you. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can go through this again.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re never fully out of that life, farmer. That past will come back to haunt you one day, and I don’t think I have the strength to endure it.”

“No, Leah, it’s over, I swear–”

“Just leave, okay? I have a lot to think about.”

Dejected, you do as you're told, stopping to say one last thing before you go. “I hope you’ll give me another chance, Leah. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

She sniffles and wipes a tear away, “we’ll see.”

Maru

She begins by tilting her head at you, her eyes scanning you up and down before turning back to her studies. “I know that, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Huh?!” you blurt out, shaking your head. “How–”

Maru sighed and put her work aside, realizing that they needed to have a full chat about this now, despite her samples calling for her.

“Once, you mentioned the amount of required poison to kill a person without raising suspicion to require an autopsy.”

“Okay, but–”

“Another time, when my dad asked if you wanted to go camping one weekend and maybe hunting, you asked if a Heckler & Koch P30L would be an appropriate gun to bring.”

“I’ve never been hunting before!” you defended, weakly.

“Sweetheart, it’s a handgun. You don’t go hunting with a handgun.”

“Hang on–”

“Furthermore, you have two bullet wounds that I know of. One on your lower left calf and the other on your upper bicep. You also have obvious scars from being stabbed or sliced and it was most certainly not from a childhood cat.”

You both stared at one another. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could ever hide anything from her.

“Does it bother you?”

“A little,” she admitted with a small shrug. “So long as you don’t go back into that kind of work though, I can get over it. Just don’t ever try to lie to me again, I will always know.”

Penny

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat jumps so quickly she thinks she might faint.

She would have never expected this of you.

Going into the mines was one thing, but killing people was a whole other level of insanity.

It takes her a minute to process what you’ve just told her, her hands twisting in her lap, fearing she’s going to say the wrong thing.

“Were they all bad people?” she finally asks, lifting her eyes up to meet yours.

You take a moment to respond, a lie resting at the tip of your tongue, but you squash it and say, “No, they weren’t.”

At this, Penny breaks.

She drops her head into her hands and cries, pulling her knees up and to her chest while the heels of her feet rest on the edge of the couch.

She was in love with you. So desperately, eagerly, pathetically in love with you.

And now, she doesn’t know how to move forward.

Her whole life, she has dealt with bad people. From the moment she was born she has fought with everything she’s ever had to be one of the good ones. Abiding by the rules, keeping to herself to avoid stepping on any toes, taking care of others when they don’t even appreciate the kindness she shows to them.

“I don’t-” she gasped between her tears. “I don’t think I can do this.”

The farmer nodded, taking her hands into their own and squeezing them gently. “I love you, Penny. More than anything.”

“Why did you have to tell me?” she whispered. “Why..”

“I couldn’t keep lying to you..”

Penny stood, ripping her hands away to rope the back of them under her eyes. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me ever again.”

Then she ran off, leaving you there as the guilt washed over you.

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lincolndjarin · 10 months ago

Text

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 5

chapter five : i'll decide where to go from here

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : happy last chapter of oh honey!!!! took a while to get out bc i was briefly on hiatus and then was in a slump (whoops) but here it is. this is another case of me writing an ending before the story so this has been the intended ending since i started and i hope you all like it as much as i do

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 6.4k

summary : a look into the past and present of life in honey, west virginia

warnings, etc. : language, allusions to sex, angst & fluff, complicated relationships and people who are trying to handle them, an obscene amount of flashbacks, reader has hair and is carried by Joel, several timelines in no particular order.

“C’mere, bunny.” His stubble brushes against the back of your neck, his mouth is warm as you feel a kiss placed against your spine.

“Mmm, what’s on the agenda for today?” You hum, pushing back against him a bit, the camper’s freezing in the winter, your heater broke a week ago and the parts Joel ordered to fix it won’t be in for a week. So you’re stuck with a little space heater you’d bought at the hardware store.

“I was thinkin’ we’d just do this for a while.” His arms tighten around your waist and stomach with a sigh. “We could just stay in today, order food, watch a movie on your laptop.” He yawns before nestling close against you.

“It’s too cold to stay here, it’s supposed to snow all weekend, it’s only gonna get worse. Maria even closed the home early yesterday” You groan, rolling over in his arms to press your face into his neck. The tips of your nose and ears are freezing, the two of you are under all the blankets you own, bundled up, when you peer out the window you can see the snow falling and settling on the trees.

Joel mumbles into your hair, deeply inhaling. “Why don’t you pack a bag and we can head back to the house then. You can stay until Monday and can fix the heat while you’re at work.”

“I hate staying at your place, all of my shit is here.” You spend most weekends at Joel’s, it’s easiest that way, but packing up all of your things and bringing them back and forth is getting tiring.

“Just bring it with you.”

“I think you underestimate how much stuff I need for four days.” You’re already giving yourself a headache trying to make a mental list of everything you’ll need.

“Why don’t you just move in.” He mumbles with another yawn. “It would make it easier for both of us if all your stuff was there.” It isn’t until he realizes that you’re frozen in place that he opens his eyes. “Or not, just a thought.”

You stammer an excuse, hoping to alleviate the tension that’s suddenly lingering between you. “I just- I don’t know if we’re there yet.”

“I didn’t mean to rush you, just thought I’d offer.” He shrugs before pulling you close again.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper into his chest.

“Don’t be. You’re right, it’s too soon for that.”

You’ve been together for a year now, you almost never sleep apart, if anything you should have moved in six months ago.

What’s stopping you?

You’ve been distancing yourself from any concrete commitments for sometime now and even if he never says it you know it bothers him. When do you stop punishing him for something you claim you’ve forgiven him for? He doesn’t hurt people as often anymore, at least he’s trying harder not to. But it’s getting hard for the both of you to keep up this system of locking yourselves in his room for a week every month.

Sometimes your cycle syncs with Maria and Sarah has to drive in from out of town to watch Ellie, it’s just generally become harder to manage.

But you can’t leave him when he’s like that.

On the rare occasion that you’re too exhausted to stay awake and entertain him he’ll end up in the woods and a massacred corpse ends up on your table when you return to work.

Everytime you think you’ve found forgiveness and acceptance you’re reminded of the fact that you love a monster. A selfish choice that you make every day. And everytime you tell him you can’t live with the guilt he gives you the same option.

Kill him.

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to make it sound so grim, each of you have complicated relationships with death. You just don’t think you’ll be able to live without him, and it’s not like he expects you to kill him yourself, he always tells you he’ll handle it with Tommy but you always shoot the idea down and you’re back to square one.

“I just need a little more time, I promise this isn’t forever.” You mumble as you sit up.

“I’d do anything for you, anything at all. Just tell me what to do.”

You don’t doubt that. But he still doesn’t give you what you actually want, all you ask of him is options that don’t involve him, or any more innocent people, on your cadaver cart.

The bed is empty when you wake up.

You knew it would be when you went to bed alone last night but a part of you, after all this time, still feels incomplete when the sheets beside you are cold. The creaking under the floorboards is the only noise in the house.

Your alarm clock reads 6:58 a.m. and you know it’s only a matter of minutes before you need to be up so you throw the blankets aside, stretch your arms above your head, and stand. Right on cue you hear the familiar stomping down the hall before your door swings open, Ellie rubs her eyes before scurrying over to you. Her hair’s in disarray, having fallen out of the braid you put it in last night, you scoop her up into your arms, trying to smooth the mess down.

“Good morning, little monster.” You mumble, kissing her cheek before carrying her down the hall and into the kitchen. You can’t help but wonder how much longer she’ll be small enough to hold like this. She’s already almost too heavy for you to lift for this long, and the living room and kitchen are still decorated with banners and deflating balloons from her sixth birthday party yesterday.

Kids birthdays, elementary school, home owning?

Even after a couple years it’s still a little dizzying that this is your life now. You set her down at the table, retrieving the generic sugary cereal you’ve grown fond of from the cabinet along with bowls, spoons, and milk, setting them down on the table in front of her.

“Can I feed the sheep before we go?” She says before reaching for her spoon, you nod.

“If you brush your teeth without giving me a hard time.” You fill your bowls, you have to remind her to slow down a few times as she shovels cereal into her mouth, eager to go out to the barn. You’re only halfway through your bowl when she runs off in the direction of her room.

You hear the telltale sounds of her pushing her step stool across the tile of the bathroom as she rummages through the cabinet. As you finish up your own food and tidy up you make a mental list of everything you need to do today.

Get Ellie ready for school.

Tend to the sheep.

Drive Ellie to school.

You take your phone out of your sweatpants pocket, 7:16, and text Maria to make sure they’re still good to take her this weekend. Ellie hums as she brushes her teeth when you peer into the bathroom before making your way into your own room, changing quickly, you’ve got about an hour before you need to leave.

Drive Ellie to daycare.

Grocery shopping.

Oil change.

Making lists helps. You like knowing what you’re going to do and when you’re going to do it, you’ve had enough surprises in your life, you don’t like when the routine changes. Without your routine you’d lose yourself entirely. Ellie helps, she likes structure as much as you do, you stand behind her in the bathroom now watching her finish up and making sure she did a good job. The sparkling stone on the counter catches your eye, a reminder that you’re constantly forgetting your ring. It’s a bit much for your taste but it’s a family heirloom and Joel insisted. Sliding it onto your finger as Ellie hands it to you.

Check on Ellie.

Clean the house.

Make dinner.

Before she can run back to her room you gently pull her back by the collar of her shirt, grabbing a hair tie off the counter you tie her hair in a ponytail before letting her go get dressed. By the time she’s ready you’ve got your jacket on, holding Ellie’s coat out for her to stick her arms through the sleeves. She already has a toothy grin plastered on her face as you both step out of the sliding doors leading to the backyard. You take her hand, knowing she’ll run ahead if given the chance, you know better than to let her out of her sight.

Dangerous things live in the woods of Honey.

She’s pulling you along through the short path between the trees leading to the barn with a fence surrounding it. Once you’re in the clearing you let her run ahead, once you’re able to see everything around you. The air is icy and damp as you follow after her, opening the gate as she slips under the fence. The sun is just starting to break through the trees, it’s still too cold for the sheep to be out, there isn’t much exposed grass for them to eat anyway. You’ve been keeping them in the barn most days unless it warms up, today isn’t one of those days. With a high pitched giggle Ellie rushes inside, you hear the familiar sounds of bleating as she greets all of them by name.

You watch in momentary silence as you make your own way into the barn, enjoying her little smile that warms up the freezing barn.

“Did you turn in your project yesterday?” You sit on a hay bale, watching her run amongst the sheep before turning to you, nose red from the chill. You hadn’t gotten to ask her about it since you’d been so busy with her party, it wasn’t really a “project.” Just a little assignment for the kids in her class, to draw something important to them.

Of course Ellie had wanted to draw her father, something you were happy to help with until she held the crayon in her fist and began to draw the sharp angles and pointed claws that you realized she couldn’t show it off to her class. You let her finish the drawing. It’s remarkable really, how someone so small and vulnerable can portray such a frightening creature without fear.

She loves him, that’s why.

You love him too but that doesn’t mean he didn’t terrify you. No amount of strange magical connection was going to change the fact that he scared you. The difference of course is that Ellie doesn’t know what he’s done. You had encouraged her to draw a background, concealing the mass of flesh and teeth in darkness and trees until only the two of you knew what hid behind the blue and green. Together you decided that it was a drawing of her favorite place. The national forest on the edge of town.

“Good, Riley guessed what it was though.” She says as she pats one of the lambs gently on the back.

“She guessed it was the Manangahela National Forest?” You give her a skeptical smile as she fills a bucket with feed before emptying it into the trough.

“Monongahela.” She corrects you proudly.

After all this time, you still never get it right.

“Smart ass.” You grumble under your breath as she carefully lifts the hose, filling the water buckets.

“Ass.” She says with a grin.

“Don’t say that.” You point at her sternly, stifling a laugh.

With a small huff she turns the hose off and rushes over to sit beside you and watch them.

“She said the forest was my favorite so it was easy.” She mumbles, briefly captivated by the sheep.

“She’s a good friend for knowing that.” You like Riley, you’ve watched the two girls play together several times before, she’s a good influence on Ellie as far as you can tell.

“Mhmm.” She hums, the silence returning between the two of you as you both watch the sheep.

You don’t tell her that you’re going to butcher one of them tonight.

You know that she can handle it. At this point in her life she can handle much more than any other six year old you’ve ever met but you just aren’t ready for that sort of thing yet. You haven’t been a parent long enough to know the proper way to go about that sort of thing.

“Time for school, kiddo.” You stand up abruptly and take her hand again, watching as she yells back to the sheep, saying goodbye to each and everyone of them.

The truck sits idly in the driveway but you ignore it, opening the door of your own car, Ellie throws her backpack in before climbing in herself. It was the first thing you’d bought with Darlene’s money. (The second thing you did was help Sarah with her student loans and put aside some for Ellie.) You hated driving the truck, it was too big and too loud, this just felt safer for driving Ellie around. Once she’s buckled into her seat you make your way over to the driver's side. The radio plays some rock song that immediately has her squealing in the backseat, with a grin you turn it up as you pull out of the driveway.

“Is she my mom now?”

You had been walking past Ellie’s room after your shower, wearing one of Joel’s flannels with the towel wrapped around your hair when her voice froze you in place, her bedroom door cracked open.

“That’s not exactly how that works, kiddo.” His voice has a nervous lilt to it you don’t often hear from him.

“Then why is she always here?” She sits up a bit and you hold your breath as Joel’s brow furrows.

“Is that a problem?” God you hope not.

“No, I like her.” The tension in his face relaxes with your own.

“I’m glad you do. I like her too.”

“So when will she become my mom?” Her persistence on the issue makes you feel as awkward as he currently looks.

“She’ll become your mom if she wants that. But that probably won’t happen until we’re married, and I don’t know if she wants that yet either.” There’s a beat of silence, you’re heart skipping a beat at the earnestness of the conversation. The silence is quickly interrupted by the little one screaming your name as you rush back to the bathroom, opening and shutting the door to try and make it seem like you hadn’t been listening.

“Yes, little monster?” You make a real show of stepping loudly down the hall as you push the door open. You’re greeted by the sight of Ellie trying to wriggle out of a rather flustered Joel’s arms, face red and flushed as he tries to shove her under her blankets.

“She’s just messin’ around.” He grumbles before throwing a pillow at the giggling mess.

Her voice calling your name from the backseat snaps you out of your thoughts.

“What’s up?” You turn the music down as you glance at her in the rearview mirror.

“Can Riley come over today after school if her mom says it’s okay?”

“You’re going to Uncle Tommy’s tonight, love. I’ll text her mom and see if she’s okay with picking her up from there if he gets you guys after school. Does that sound okay?” She nods happily when you look in the mirror before going back to singing along with the radio. When you pull up to the parent drop off you get out of the car to unbuckle her, kneeling down in front of her as she pulls her backpack straps over shoulders.

“Can we have a birthday party with Dad when he gets back?” She tilts her head to the side as she asks, you lean forward and kiss her on the cheek before pulling her into a hug.

“Absolutely we can.” You give her a soft smile before her attention is diverted towards a group of her friends. “Be good today, I love you.”

“Love you, bye!” She leans in to give you a kiss on your own cheek before rushing off, you watch her go, waiting until she’s in the building before getting back in the car. You send a quick text to Riley’s mom and Maria, scheduling plans for the girls before putting the car in drive as you head off towards a neighboring town. Honey has a grocery store but on days like this where you have so much free time you like to go to the nicer ones out of town.

You turn the radio off now that it’s just you, cranking the heat to keep warm as you drive in silence.

“We should get married.” You had brought the idea up, much to his surprise. About a year ago, as you were setting up for Ellie’s fifth birthday party, a year after you’d finally moved in.

“Are you serious?” He had been laying on his back, under the camper, working on the more technical aspects of the project. In his shock he’d rolled himself back out to stare at you.

Why wouldn’t you be? Sure, it took a lot of effort on his part but you finally feel like you’ve stopped holding everything against him. You had hoped that he knew that by now.

“Why not? Everyone already thinks we are, everyone at Ellie’s school calls her my daughter, Tommy’s been teasing me about it for ages-” He pulls himself to his feet, quickly putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Bunny, slow down.” He’s getting flustered, you swear his drawl is thicker when he gets like this.

“You’re the one who always says I take things too slow.” You frown, turning back to the flowers you’d been planting in the boxes under the window but he turns you back around to face him.

“You mean it?” His voice is a whisper and you quickly realize how much this means to him.

“Of course, I mean, we’re going to spend our lives together anyway, why wait.” You give him a reassuring smile as you tilt your head to kiss his cheek, briefly letting yourself indulge in the taste of his skin before pulling back. “As much as I’d love to talk about this more, we should get back to work if we want to finish this before she’s home.”

He doesn’t say anything else about it as he goes back to running the electrical under the camper and you can’t help but wonder if you crossed a line. Thankfully you’re on a time crunch to finish this and your mind is kept busy.

The two of you work in silence, almost synchronized as you move from task to task. He brings the cinder blocks out and lines the camper, creating a semi-permanent foundation as you string fairy lights along the outside and finish up planting flowers around the entire thing. Joel attaches the small porch he and Tommy made a few weeks ago that you had painted as you step inside. It’s unrecognizable after all the work the two of you put into it. The ceiling now painted a dark blue, glow in the dark paint dotted along the entire thing, when the sun goes down she’ll be able to see the stars from inside the camper. You painted the walls and changed out the curtains and sheets more to Ellie’s tastes. She’d always loved it here, when Joel was actually busy with work trips she’d stay with you in the camper. Even nowadays with you living with her and Joel she still often asks if she can play in the camper.

Just as you’re finishing up Joel steps inside as well, testing all of the faucets while wiping a bit of sweat from his brow.

“Think she’ll like it?” You ask, your fingers nervously twitch as you roll the hem of your shirt between them, he laughs as he leans back against the counter.

“She’s gonna love it, s’better than any gift I’ve ever gotten her.” You can’t help but smile as he holds his arms out towards you, you quickly step into them, leaning against his chest and taking a deep breath.

You open your mouth to speak, wanting to address your proposition from earlier quickly so it doesn’t hang in the air for too long but you hear the familiar rumble of Tommy’s truck pulling into the driveway and the two of you quickly rush out of the camper and down the steps. You straighten the bow on the door and quickly lock it. You hear Ellie’s laughter as she runs around the side of the house, Tommy and Maria walking up behind her.

She’s excited to see both of you, a paper crown announcing her birthday adorns her head as she runs up to hug her father. The second she sees the camper though she darts right past him.

“Why’s this here?” She yells excitedly, she knows exactly why it’s here instead of sitting stagnant on the piece of property you sold just a few days ago. You smile at Joel, nodding towards her as he leans down to pick her up.

“She got you a little birthday present, since you’ve been so nice to her and let her come live with us.” He points at you as she immediately starts squirming out of his grasp, tossing her backpack aside as she runs up the little porch steps. She turns around to look at you with a huge smile on her face.

“Are you fucking serious?” She screams. You can’t help it as a laugh slips out of you, thankfully Tommy can’t hold it together either as Joel immediately breaks into a lecture you nudge his shoulder as you hand her the key.

“It’s her birthday, she’s allowed to say it on her birthday.” You murmur through your continued laughter. She wraps her arms around your legs, hugging you tightly before turning around and unlocking the door. “Happy birthday, Ellie.”

She had loved her party, thankfully. And she loved her new playhouse much to your relief.

You and Joel laid on opposite sides of her as her little snores filled the camper, she had wanted a campout as a birthday treat and you were both more than willing to oblige. You’re staring up at the faintly glowing stars painted on the ceiling when he sets the box down next to you. You grab it, wanting to ask him more but not wanting to wake Ellie up you open it.

And you’re met with a ridiculously gorgeous ring.

Clearly an heirloom but he’s recently had it polished, one large diamond framed by two smaller ones on either side of it. Your eyes are wide as you stare down at it, shimmering in the moon light before sharply turning your head to the man with a dopey smile lying across from you.

“Been carrying that around for a while now, if I’d known you were ready I would’a asked sooner.” His voice is low as Ellie stirs a bit and you both freeze as she rolls over closer to her father.

Neither one of you speaks again, but the look on your face as you put the ring on was answer enough.

The beeping brings you back to reality as you scan every item in the self checkout lane.

You’re only feeding yourself while Ellie’s with Maria and Tommy, so you keep it simple. Another box of cereal, milk, an apple, a loaf of bread and deli meats. You’re pretty sure you have enough cheese and other essentials to get you through the rest of the weekend. On your way up to the checkout counter you grab a bag of dark roast coffee beans and a box of tampons.

You’re out of both.

You know you live in memories too often, especially without Joel to keep you in reality. You find him in the past when he isn’t beside you because something needs to fill the aching void that yearns for his smell, his taste, and his touch. And echoes of Joel are almost as good as the real thing. There’s a funny comfort you find in memories. Even unhappy ones. There’s no surprises in memories, you know what’s going to happen and you know you survived it.

Even the bad memories bring you comfort when he isn’t around to do it himself.

You pay quickly, loading everything into the cooler in the car as you head off in the direction of your mechanic. When you park you’re told it’ll take about fifteen minutes, nodding as you sit in the waiting room, where your mind inevitably wanders to one of the worst memories in the hours following your meeting in the Applebees that has since closed.

You didn’t pay attention to the road.

Instead you stared at your hands in your lap as he drove, not bothering with the radio, the two of you stewing in your silence as he pulled into the driveway. You didn’t even unbuckle your seatbelt, he had come around the truck and done that for you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you bridal style up the porch steps and into the house, only stopping to kick the door shut before bringing you to his room, clicking on the lamp he hadn’t bothered to remove, and setting you on the mattress.

He lays down beside you, taking your face in his hands but you immediately recoil, pushing him away.

“What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness? To show you I’m sorry? Cause I don’t see a point to any of this if it’s never going to happen, it’ll be better for both of us if we know where we stand.” He’s right, unfortunately. Neither one of you deserves to waste the other's time if this is going to mean nothing.

If you can’t forgive him.

“Can you at least let me love you? Do you think you can manage that?” His voice is dangerously close to cracking and you have to pray that he doesn’t break. If he can’t hold it together you know you won’t be able to either. “Neither one of us wants to deal with this but we don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t know.” You mumble, you really don’t know so why answer with anything else?

“I don’t even need a concrete answer, bunny. I just need to know if someday you’re going to be able to forgive me. I can’t live a life where you keep me at arms length.”

You hadn’t responded. Just slid closer to him.

And you let him hold you until you fell asleep, hoping that would be enough.

Your phone buzzing is what snaps you out of your empty thoughts this time. When you open the notification you’re met with a message from Maria, a photo of Tommy sleeping in the recliner, Ellie sitting in his lap, and Riley sitting on the arm of the chair, watching whatever movie they put on the T.V.

[ Made it back from school. Watching Treasure Planet. ]

[ love it ] [ thanks again for taking them ]

The mechanic returns shortly after, handing you your keys and telling you you’re good to go. The hour drive back isn’t terrible, you opt to listen to music on the way back. It’s quiet when you return home. Putting away the groceries and making yourself a sandwich as you look around the cluttering remnants of the party yesterday, the only sounds are your chewing and the soft creaking and scratching from under the floorboards.

Joel has so much pride for your home. He would hate it if he knew how dirty it was currently, the thought alone has you reaching for an empty trash bag once you’re finished eating.

You turn all the lights on as the sun starts to set, how much time did you spend daydreaming today? You try not to think too hard about it as you start cleaning up the plastic cups and paper plates that litter every surface of the living room, popping deflating balloons and sweeping up discarded streamers and confetti. There’s a feeling of solace that comes with cleaning the house, making it feel like home once more.

This isn’t just Joel’s house now, it’s yours as well, even if you thought this would never be the case.

“I know that you shot down the idea last time but I want to show you something.”

“Joel, I just don’t think…” Your voice trails off as you stare at the key ring he’s holding out towards you. If you can’t guarantee that he won’t hurt people you can’t share a home with him, it’s stupid and it makes you feel childish but you can’t come home to him knowing people are still dying, even if you can’t stay away from him.

“Just give me a chance to show you.” He puts the keys back into his pocket before taking your hand. Walking you down the hall towards his room, he stops briefly to check in on Ellie, still tucked into her own bed as you peer into her room before he closes her door quietly. “I don’t want you to think that a life with me is going to be only horrors, and I know that a part of you has already resigned yourself to such a thing but you don’t deserve that.” You’re about to interrupt him, tell him that’s not true despite the ache in your chest that tells you he’s right but he’s opening his own bedroom door and you’re too busy staring slack jawed inside.

It’s unrecognizable from the monster cage he’d created for himself.

Instead of resting bare and on the floor, the mattress has sheets and now rests on a low to the ground metal frame. The photos that were once taped to the wall are now in frames or pinned to a bulletin board he hung up.

He put a rug down that covers any claw marks on the floor and he’s done his best to hang up photos and paintings over the scratches on the walls. There’s even furniture now, a nightstand on either side of the bed with a matching dresser, lamps scattered around the room make the space feel warm and lived in.

“You- you did all this?”

“If you live with me I don’t want you to have to sleep in some sort of creepy homemade dungeon, you deserve an actual bedroom.” He whispers as you look at the paintings on the wall, all of them are Alice in Wonderland themed. “I borrowed those from Sarah’s room, we can change them out when- if you move in.” He quickly mumbles as you look up at a painting of Alice staring into a lake, her own image being reflected back up at her.

“It’s lovely, it’s perfect Joel.” You turn back to him as he rubs the back of his neck bashfully.

“This ain’t it, there's a few more surprises for you.” The shocked look remains on your face as he takes your hand once more, bringing you back into the kitchen and out the sliding glass door.

You had run outside without shoes on and took down the banner hanging on the camper before rushing back in and tossing it in the trash bag. When you look at the clock it’s just a couple minutes from 7:00 p.m. You bring the bag out to the porch before washing your hands.

You don’t bother taking a shower as you change into your pajamas, setting your ring on your nightstand, not wanting to risk damaging it as you pull up a pair of sweats you don’t care about being ruined and an old shirt you wore when you painted the bathroom a month ago. Grabbing the apple off the counter you shove it into your sweatpants pocket. Shooting Maria one last text and turning your phone on do not disturb, you tell her to say goodnight to Ellie for you before slipping your sneakers on and heading out the back door once more.

You don’t like going to the barn alone, and you should have put on a proper jacket, without the sun to warm you, your skin prickles with goosebumps. The dark doesn’t frighten you very much anymore, and it’s easy to follow the familiar path even in the dark. Your phone flashlight illuminates the ground in front of you as you walk, you’re trying to remember if there is a specific sheep Ellie isn’t attached to.

Most of the flock is sleeping save for a few stragglers, you decide not to overthink it, grabbing a lead and putting it over the head of the first sheep that’s brave enough to greet you. The unlucky winner is one of the older sheep, making its way over to you the second you open the gate. You reward her bravery with the apple in your pocket, the only sounds in the quiet night are those of chewing as you walk her back towards the house.

You swung your intertwined hands between the two of you as you walked through the trees behind his house. He must have worked startlingly fast to do that for you, no ones ever put in that sort of effort for you before.

The sun is just starting to set behind you as he takes a step back and covers your eyes.

“Hey-” You start to object with a giggle as he continues walking you forward.

“Oh hush, let this be a surprise.” He chuckles as he leads you further down the path before stopping abruptly and lifting his hands. “Surprise.” He whispers, taking a step back.

“Woah.” You exhale in shock as you stare at the barn in front of you. A white fence surrounding it.

It’s beautiful.

“Tommy and I grew up on a farm, we can raise whatever you want, pigs, sheep, chickens, anything you want.” He mumbles as he wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek.

“I love that idea, but can I ask why?” You let out a nervous laugh as you turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“That’s actually a part of your last surprise.”

“Another?” Your voice pitches up, he built you a fucking barn, what else could he have done for you?

“I want you to know how serious I am about you moving in, I don’t want you to have any doubt.” He mumbles against your temple, inhaling deeply before pulling away and taking your hand one more time. “Come on.” He pulls you back towards the house as the sun sets for good, you walk in the darkness until he brings you to the basement entrance and pulls out the keys he’d offered you.

Several locks adorn the basement entrance, you sift through your key ring until you find each lock's respective key, letting them drop into the grass as you remove each one. When you swing the heavy metal doors open you’re met with the welcoming warmth that comes from below. Several lamps and space heaters create a warm glow that beckons you down the steps. Almost immediately the sheep pulls away, bleating fearfully. Animals are far more intelligent than anyone gives them credit for, they know when something is wrong.

You pull her down with you then reach up and let the doors slam down, sealing the poor thing in its tomb with you.

You drop the lead once the doors are closed, there’s no point in leading the lamb any closer to the inevitable slaughter.

“I have loved you since I first saw you in that bar. I have loved you every moment since, you could be cruel and terrible and I’d love you still and I’d probably deserve it. But you aren’t. You’re smart, and you care about everything, and you love everyone even if they aren’t worthy of it.” His hands caress your face as he whispers into the night air. “And you feel so much guilt for the things I do even though you shouldn’t. You can forgive me for all that I’ve done but it won’t change the fact that I’m still doing terrible things. I’ve done terrible things for so long that I didn’t really consider any other options, but you deserve other options.”

He pulls open the basement doors once all the locks are undone, and offers his hand to you.

“I want to show you that I can change, that I would do anything you need me to do, be anything you need me to be.”

It’s your choice, take it or leave, he won’t hold it against you if you crack and can’t handle it anymore. But you need him to keep yourself together in the first place so you take his calloused hand in yours and let him lead you down into the darkness.

The smell of vanilla and pine is dense down here.

As you descend further down the steps you see the familiar set up, a few lamps and lanterns are scattered throughout the darkness as well as a couple space heaters that are only there for your benefit. A mattress you insist on putting sheets on is pushed against one of the scratched up walls, the blankets and pillows scattered about the space, you walk over to the mess, picking up the scattered quilts as you throw everything back down on the mattress. You can feel the movement behind you, the scratching against the cement as you lay down, even with the heaters it’s cold. Thankfully you know you’ll be warm enough soon.

The panicked baa’s of the sheep are swiftly silenced, replaced with the wet tearing sound that once would have filled you with dread. It’s a bit morbid how comforting you now find them, you roll over as you pull another blanket up over yourself, watching the iron chains drag across the floor as the unseen figure pulls them in different directions.

You can see movement dancing on the edges of the lamp light, the smell of blood is almost as prominent now as the suffocating sweetness. A smile begins to tease the corners of your mouth as you hear him moving closer, the familiar, gravely voice that calls out from the dark recesses of the basement fills your ears like warm honey.

“C’mere, bunny.”

a/n : that's a wrap on oh honey folks, once again im sorry i made yall wait so long, i hope it was worth it <3

i no longer have a tag list but for fic updates follow @lincolndjarinnotifs !!

#lincolndjarin #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #monster fucker #monster lover #monster romance #oh honey #fic : oh honey

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berriweb · 1 year ago

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╰┈➤ ❝ out of this world ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. miles morales x reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. none

: ̗̀➛ part one / part three

: ̗̀➛ a/n. i just be writing anything fr, this wasn’t supposed to have another part but now i can’t stop writing, I’ll write a part three when i feel like it and this once against isn’t proof read so if you see a typo no you don’t :)

Miles screwed up.

As he swung from building to building, taking a moment to stop and perch on a street lamp as his head tilted to the side, his eyes were trained on Gwen but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Well, that wasn’t the right word for it. It was everywhere. Between trying to find out what was up with Gwen, knowing he was in deep shit with his parents and the fact that he was on bad terms with you, he didn’t know what to worry about more. Before Spider-Man had been an escape from his own life when he didn’t want to deal with it, but now in some sick sense of irony his secret persona only seemed to be making his life worse.

Miles picked up the pace to catch up with Gwen as she swung through the city, but just as she turned a corner he recognized the street they were on. It was where you lived, in fact he could see your building from there. For just a moment he caught himself in a dilemma, slowing down just enough to stick to the wall and climb towards the window he knew was connected to your bedroom. The window was closed, strange considering he knew you had a habit of leaving it cracked even on cold nights due to how stuffy the air in there could get. When he attempted to peak through the small cracks in the blinds, your room looked empty.

Shouldn’t you have been home by now?

Miles let out a sigh and backed up from the window. On one hand, he could’ve stayed to confront you when you got home, assuming you weren’t just in another part of the house, and hopefully resolved the unavoidable conflict you two had. But on the other hand…

He turned back to the streets, seeing Gwen had gained distance in the few seconds he had stopped, almost just out of sight. If he stopped now he’d never get answers. He’d never know what she was really here for or why she’d have to leave, he might never see another Spider-Man again.

The mask hid the guilty expression he wore as he jumped from the wall, swinging from building to building while promising himself that he’d give you all of his attention as soon as he was done figuring this all out before landing at the crime scene of what he’d soon realize would be the consequence of one of his own screw ups.

Surprises weren’t always a good thing.

Between the multitudes of flashing colors and scenes, the exhilarating yet terrifying sensation of never ending falling that seemed to take forever, and the blood rushing to your head, you couldn’t even begin to make out what was happening for you. For a moment, the idea that you must’ve died and were going to the afterlife crossed your mind in the few seconds that felt like hours flew by.

Maybe I tripped and hit my head on the way home? Maybe there was something in the juice and I’m hallucinating? Maybe this is all a dream?

As much as you wanted to believe any of those possibilities, they were all crushed by the realization that you couldn’t have been making this all up when in the midst of falling, you noticed what seemed like a dirty surface getting close and closer. Luckily for you, it seemed like the constant falling did have a destination. Unluckily for you, there was nothing to cushion the fall as you hit the ground with a loud thud and a gut wrenching crunch.

Pain shot across your right side as you laid there, looking up just in time to see the same warping pattern that initially pulled you in shrinking and disappearing before your eyes. ‘What the fuck?’

As aching as your body was, you knew you couldn’t just lay in that spot forever, opting to roll over onto the side that wasn’t throbbing in pain and push yourself into a sitting position. The pain in your side returned and you reached to hold your side, face twisting in pain as you winced. You’d probably broken something, a rib maybe? The adrenaline rushing through you likely being the only thing keeping you from rolling around in agony. Forcing yourself on your feet, you nearly doubled over, taking deep, slow breathes to keep yourself from freaking out and making things worse. Taking a quick look around, it seemed as if you’d been left in a dimly alleyway, garbage cans and bags lining either side. The walls looked old and past due for a pressure wash, but you weren’t too quick to judge, you’d seen worse.

Thankfully, you hadn’t managed to drop your bag and reached to fish out your phone, your other hand glued to your side to manage the pain in your abdomen. Your first thought was the open your contacts, taking a moment to decide who to call before ultimately deciding on attempting to call your mom/dad, but the call only flashed on screen for a second before your phone alerted you to the fact that you had zero service.

How is that possible?

Cursing under your breathe, you shoved it back in your back before sucking it up when you realized you’d likely just have to walk home, assuming you were even near it.

You slowly walked out of the alleyway, the smell of smoke and a rotting stench filling your nostrils that made you scrunch your nose out of disgust. Looking around, you took note of the street sign and thankfully recognized the name. You must’ve still been in Brooklyn.

You were able to map out the way home from where you were, hurriedly making your way there while also pacing your steps to aid your side. There had to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe you had secret superpowers? It’s not exactly out of the question considering all of the heroes and villains you’ve seen on the news. Teleportation, maybe? Or could it be that someone else with powers attacked you?

When you arrived at your home you settled on the fact that the portal must have been time travel, because where your apartment building should’ve been, a massive pile of left over debris and no building was in its place.

“This can’t be right…” you trailed off, looking back to double check you were on the right street. You were, same sign, same letters, but as you took a final look you finally began to notice all of the big and small inconsistencies you’d written off as misremembering things, beginning to wander down the streets. Signs weren’t the same colors as you remembered them to be, shops you visited on the daily were either gone or in the wrong spot, across the street from where they’d been before hand or worse. It wasn’t a perfect city to begin with, but now? Brooklyn looked a mess, and the state of the city left you on guard and suddenly way more concerned that you were out here with no one you knew at night.

What the hell is going on?

Stepping into a convenience store, you glanced around to take in its appearance as the bell jingled and the cashier muttered out a greeting that showed he was clearly uninterested in anyone entering his store. You were going to search for a pay phone, too rattled to bother trying to ask the man where it was. Brands had different names, items were different colors and you could just sense that something was extremely wrong. Finding a phone screwed into the wall, you fished out a few quarters to dial a number as you heard the bell ring again, only to be disappointed when the automated voice informed you that your parent’s number was somehow invalid.

Sighing in defeat, you set the phone back and took the loss of the few coins, dragging your feet as you headed for the exit, but as you reached the door you couldn’t help but freeze in your spot when you recognized the face the cashier was talking to.

“Yeah man, he’s doin’ good. We got some business to take care of later but feel free to swing by tomorrow if you want, I’ll make time,” he chuckled, taking his chance and shoving it in his pocket as he looped the plastic bag around his wrist, dapping up the clerk before heading out the door.

You had ducked into another aisle, kneeling down to avoid being seen with a hand over your mouth as you breathed heavily.

Uncle Aaron?

You were almost certain you had died now. Or at least you wanted to be, but you weren’t dumb enough to believe that. It had to be something more.

As an act of bravery, or maybe stupidity, you decided to follow him. You had no idea what would come of it, but if you couldn’t find your house or your family, making your way back to Miles was your best bet. Oh god, what would Miles think?

You trailed behind down the blocks, keeping your distance and making sure to slow your already unsteady pace to avoid being seen. It was hard to believe the man you were sure had died was now casually walking in front of you, but you didn’t know anything about your situation to be able to make an accurate guess as to what was going on, so you opted to avoid assuming anything.

It seemed like Miles place remained in the same place and in tact, as that’s where you ended up, watching him climb the steps and eventually disappear through the door. Watching from the ground below, you eyed the building before deciding to climb the fire escape. You had no clue how anyone would react to you just walking up and knocking on the door and asking for Miles, as one: for all you knew it could potentially be dangerous, if everything else changed was it possible that your relationships had too? And two: you weren’t exactly on good terms with Miles either. Making it up to the fire escape, you peered into one of the windows, getting a clear view of the living room. Aaron was greeting Miles’ mother, who seemed normal for the most part, albeit a bit more tired.

You couldn’t tell what exactly they were saying, but she had a somber look on her face and Aaron’s seemed devoid of any sort of emotion. It was unlike him, back when he was alive anyway. Shortly after, Aaron left the apartment again and you caught a glimpse of him going upstairs. You took one last look at Mrs.Morales before quickly and quietly following him, catching up just as he got on the roof and peeking up from where you stood on the steps.

He was on the phone, and the few bits of conversation you caught were all talk about some sort of plan and him reminding whoever was on the other end to be on time before chuckling.

“-yeah yeah, your mom just got back home too.” Your mom? Is that- “See you in a few.”

He hung up, and if your mind wasn’t already scrambled enough, hearing that only made it ten times worse. You wanted nothing more than for someone to sit you down and explain what was going on, but that wasn’t going to happen. Maybe if you pinched yourself hard enough you’d wake up from this nightmare. You’d be at home, laying in bed and none of this would’ve ever happened. You never would’ve scolded Miles, you wouldn’t be worrying about your relationship and you for sure wouldn’t be here.

You watched as Aaron seemed to mess around with some rusted device, it being far too complicated for you to know what it was, but he was clearly skilled at fixing it. The air suddenly became tense and you felt something tying a knot in your gut. Call it survival instincts or just a gut feeling, either way you didn’t like it, but it proved to be helpful as just after the feeling passed Aaron’s attention turned from the device to directly where you stood. Your heart sank down to the pit of your stomach.

He knows I’m here.

He rose to his feet and you instinctively jumped back, only to lose your footing on the step you were on and trip, thankfully not falling off but instead stumbling until you hit the railing, a painful reminder of the injury you’d been trying not to focus on.

“Shit!” The pain shot up your side once more, seemingly far more unbearable now that the initial shock had worn off and you gripped the railing.

“Y/N?”

A distorted voice from behind made you jolt and turn your head, holding onto your side and you made eye contact, or what you assumed was eye contact, with a black mask and jagged, glowing white eyes. The person was wearing a combination of purple and black clothing with a seemingly spray painted logo on the front of the shirt, donning gloves with pointed fingers you could only hope weren’t going to get used on you.

You took a staggered step back and bit your lip, suddenly feeling far more lightheaded. You wanted to ask who the figure was. Why were they talking to you- no, more importantly, how they knew who you were, and if they knew what was going on, but now of all times is when your injuries finally decided you were down for the count. Your head felt full of air and your vision went white, the last thing you saw being a clawed hand reaching out to stop you from toppling over the railing as you lost consciousness and fell.

Amazed at the sight of hundreds if not thousands of other Spider-people, Miles marveled at the sight and excitedly greeting most who passed by. He could’ve spent forever reveling in the warm feeling that overcame him that moment, but that was cut short by his spidey sense when he suddenly froze and a cold feeling washed over him.

Something was wrong.

Stuck in place, he glanced around and nothing seemed to be out of place or threatening, but he couldn’t shake the sense that something bad was happening and he was somehow involved.

“Miles, you catching up or what?” Gwen called out from the small distance he’d created.

He smiled and shook his shoulder, giving an affirmative nod as he jogged to catch up with the rest of the group. Was it possible for a spider sense to give a false alarm? Miles wasn’t sure, but he was hoping on it.

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