#leave me and my band of freaks alone

[raredrop]

mods out taxes and the death penalty

[weirdrandomtina]

So, I experienced some deju vu during this scene in Trolls Band Together:

John Dory grabs his backpack, says he's leaving (I'm done, YOLO, etc.), and then the last thing he says is "Goodbye Forever!", followed by Branch's distraught face, and the next thing Branch knows, all his brothers have left him and he never sees them again.

I was trying to figure out why that little snippet stuck with me, then it hit me:

Trolls Holiday in Harmony, when Branch is trying to figure out a gift for Poppy. He's worried about doing the wrong thing, disappointing her or freaking her out, and says "I CAN'T let that happen". He illustrates his point with Poppy packing a suitcase, and what does she say right before she runs off?

Really brings his abandonment issues into the light😢

I've seen a few comments of people being annoyed when Branch said to Poppy "aren't you going to leave me anyway", but they clearly don't understand how trauma affects people's mental and emotional state.

He knows Poppy loves him and doesn't actually believe she'd leave, but after a lifetime of being alone, even though he's happy and loved now, there's still that subconscious fear that he'll end up alone again. Poppy means everything to him, and he can't bear the thought of losing her too, especially as a result of something he's done (his grandma died to save him, and he believed his brothers leaving was his fault because he 'ruined everything' at the concert).

Sometimes this results in Branch trying to push Poppy away, which seems conflicting, yes, but again: trauma messes with your mind. He was already heartbroken and angry at his brothers, so he wasn't thinking clearly and blurted out his hidden main fear.

And when he says "everyone else [leaves me]" I hear "everyone in my life has left me so I must deserve to be alone, so you might as well leave me too."

And that's probably why Branch was so hesitant to be open with Poppy - 1. I might scare her away, and 2. why bother expressing my feelings to someone when I'll likely just lose them anyway. Plus he's still getting used to having someone to confide to in his life. Keeping emotions bottled up for years is a hard habit to get out of.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Eddie Thought #2

This one really got away from me, but it's nice to write something new again :)

18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie, smut, sex dreams/fantasies, mentions of genital piercings/oral sex/masturbation/choking/unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, erections, crying, heavy kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lovers

A Few Tags: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @mediocredreams

@micheledawn1975 @slowandsteddie @bimbobaggins69 @etherealxwitch @taintedcigs

You're in the kitchen of your apartment, getting a snack to share with Eddie, your best friend, who's come to have a perfectly platonic sleepover with you. You've known each other since high school, becoming fast friends. You never fit in the with 'in crowd' and Eddie naturally picked up on your awkward and shy nature. Over the years he's managed to get you to open up more and be yourself, though it's mostly only around him, even after all these years. You tell each other everything, and have been there for one another through thick and thin.

One thing he hasn't seemed to notice, however, is your growing feelings for him. As you both matured into your mid-twenties, you've been unable to deny just how gorgeous Eddie is. With his long curls, big brown eyes, and lithe body covered in tats and piercings. Not to mention he's perpetually dressed in band tees and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. Ugh, he's absolutely perfect. Inside and out.

That's not to say he hasn't always been hot stuff, because of course he has. But he's not the scrawny little boy who picked you out of a long line of geeks and freaks anymore. No, now he's a strong, handsome, sexy man. A man who treats you like no one ever has before. He brings you something every time he comes to see you, ranging anywhere between a new book or a pretty rock he found on a walk once. He opens doors for you, and holds you in his arms when you're sad. He makes you soup when you're sick, nursing you back to health even if it means missing work.

The only thing missing, is something you've craved since the day you met him. Something you've never spoken aloud. Something you've only verbalized in late night cries of ecstasy when you get off to the thought of your best friend. Something you've only admitted in the pages of your diary. The diary that Eddie has just found in your bedside drawer, along with a pretty pink rabbit that makes him chuckle when he first sees it.

And what do we have here?... Eddie thinks to himself, pulling the book out of its hiding place. It's thick, bound in leather, detailed with little leaves and flowers. He thinks maybe it's a poetry journal, or a sketchbook. You share his affinity for the creative. It isn't until he actually opens that he realizes what's inside. Your deepest, darkest secrets. He flips through the pages, noting the dates as he reads about strange dreams you've had, or bad one-night stands. His eyes widen when he reaches an entry from a week ago, with the opening line: I dreamt about Eddie again last night...

He debates putting the diary back, not wanting to invade your privacy. He's not one to snoop, especially when you tell him everything anyway. Well, at least he thought you did. He bites his lip, tapping his foot on the floor as he decides what to do. He really should just put it back, and pretend he never saw it (or your special toy). But something inside him begs to know what your dreams of him are like. If they're anything resembling the dirty fantasies he's had of you while alone in his bed, he can't let it go until he knows for sure. He decides to read the next few lines, after flicking his eyes to the doorway to listen for your footsteps coming back from the kitchen.

...it was the same as all the others. Eddie was in my bed, and we were naked. His soft, warm lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands were everywhere. It felt so good, having him kiss me like that while he explored every inch of me. His fingers were carefully thrusting inside my pussy, making me so fucking wet. I could feel his dick pressing into my thigh, and I took him in my hand. The noise he made when I touched him was so beautiful, he sounded so breathless and needy for me...

Eddie knows he should stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong. These are your private thoughts, and he shouldn't be reading them. Even if they're making a tent form in his pants. His heart races in his chest, and he feels rather hot under the collar. His stomach twists with an uneasy mix of guilt and arousal. He lets out a shaky breath, once again weighing his options. Keep reading, or put the damn thing away and never, ever bring it up. He looks down the hall, wondering how much time he has left before you come back. Against his better judgment, he gives in to his desire for you. With eyes glued to your neat handwriting, he reads on.

...I could feel him grow in my hand, fuck, he was huge. I've seen it in real life before, and not entirely on accident. Since we're so close, we change in front of each other sometimes. And even though I've never seen it hard, I can tell his dick is big. It's even got a goddamn piercing on it, shining in the light like a lure. I swear to God, it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth whenever I see it...

Eddie scoffs loudly, unable to believe you've actually been checking him out. A part of him wonders if this is a sick joke, that you'd somehow known to leave this here for him to see. Any second now, you'll come busting in here and laugh in his face. Maybe even snap a picture of his embarrassingly large erection amd make copies to give all your friends.

But that's not you. You're too kind and sweet to him to ever pull such a cruel (and improbably elaborate) prank. Sure, he's wanted you for years. To call you his girl, to love you the way you should be loved. To kiss you, and hold you, and touch you in all the ways he thinks you'd like. To love you, and spoil you like the queen you are in his eyes. He's just never allowed himself to think you'd ever feel the same about him. Until now.

"What are you doing with that?" You ask softly, frozen in place in the doorway of your bedroom with a tray of snacks in your hands. Your eyes are blown wide, as you've come back to find Eddie on your bed, reading your diary, with a huge hard-on in his pants.

"I-I, I was, uh, just...um..." Eddie babbles helplessly, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the room. As if it being anywhere else will magically absolve him of invading your privacy. You just stare at him as he goes red in the face, and gestures with his hands as he fails to come up with an explanation. "...sorry." He says after letting out a long string of unintelligible sounds. He cringes at the word, realizing it's not nearly enough. But his mind and mouth can't come up with anything that doesn't sound like a feral goblin choking on a chicken bone.

"What part did you read?" You ask, your own cheeks turning a deep crimson. You really hope he didn't find your latest sex dream entry, but the glaring evidence in his jeans tells you that's exactly what he saw.

"Read? No, I was, um...j-just skimming..." He chuckles nervously, hoping you'll buy it. But the darkening blush on your skin and tears welling in your eyes lets him know he's truly caught. "Sweetheart, I—" Eddie starts, standing up as you're about to fall apart.

"Eddie, I swear, I-I didn't mean it! It was just a dream, and pfft! I was high when I wrote that!" You laugh uncontrollably as a way to hide your tears of embarrassment, frantically shaking your head. You've never been so mortified in your life, caught red handed in the worst way possible. You could've gone forever without ever letting him know how you feel. The potential rejection seemed too painful to endure. "I didn't mean it, Eddie. I didn't." Your laughter devolves into soft sobs, your grip loosening on the tray. Eddie catches it before everything tumbles to the floor, setting it on your dresser.

"Sweetheart, c'mere." Eddie takes your hands in his, and leads you over to your bed to sit beside him. You follow him, unable to do much else as tears stream down your face. "I'm sorry for snooping, angel. That wasn't right for me to do." He says sadly, stroking your soft skin with his thumbs. You nod in response. "And we can pretend this never happened, okay? Like you said, it was just a dream." He offers, his own words stabbing into his heart at the idea of never fully being with you the way he wants. But he doesn't feel like he's earned it. Not after making you so upset, and betraying your trust.

"Why did you read it?" You ask abruptly, more curious than angry. As humiliating as it is that he found you out before you could tell him yourself, you want to know how those secret words made him feel.

"I got bored, and curious. I found it in your drawer, thinking it was poetry or something. But then I found the entry of you dreaming about me..." Eddie trails off, pondering what to say next. "...and I got more curious."

"About what?" You continue, your tears drying up.

"About whether or not you want me the same way I want you." He boldly admits. He may as well, since your diary entries admitted your own wonderful, awful, heart-breaking, nerve-wracking secret to him. You don't say anything else, eyes blown wide in shock. "I want to be with you, princess. I've always wanted that." He says emphatically, making your heart swell as well as race.

"Really?" You ask, as if his erection earlier wasn't enough indication of his desire for you. You've dreamt about this moment so many times, spent numerous moments throughout the days and nights hoping one day he'd see you. You now stupidly realize, that there was never a time where he didn't.

"Yes, really. If you can forgive me for being a creep, that is." He says with a chuckle, making you giggle as well.

"Yeah, I think I can manage that." You smile, squeezing his hands with your own. "How far did you get anyway?" You ask curiously.

"Uh, right about where you talked about wanting to suck my massive, pierced cock." Eddie replies, moaning in an exaggerated way on his final words to tease you.

"Ugh, that's so embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face in shame.

"It's really not, babydoll. I'm just flattered that you noticed." He insists, pulling your hands down so he can see your pretty face again.

"I'll count myself lucky you didn't read any more." You giggle sheepishly, recalling how the rest of that dream went. You riding Eddie's cock while his large hand wraps tightly around your throat, filthy praises leaving his lips to spur you on. Him fucking you from behind, tugging your head back by your hair as he grunts and groans with every thrust. Among other equally explicit things.

"Shit, now I have to read the rest!" Eddie says impishly, diving off the bed to get the diary that still lays on the floor.

"Eddie, no! Please, it's too embarrassing!" You shriek, clamoring after him. But he's quicker than you, snatching up the book and holding it above your head. You try to jump up and tear it from his reach, but it's no use. He chuckles at your foolish attempts, slowly moving closer to you while still holding the diary above your heads. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands meet his chest, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement. He gazes deep into your eyes with burning lust, a smirk plastered on his lips.

"Think of it this way, sweetheart. If I read the rest, I'll know exactly what we're doing tonight." He speaks seductively, in a way you've only heard in your dreams.

"This can't be happening." You scoff, convinced you somehow fell asleep before Eddie came over tonight.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I'm in love with you?" He asks, dropping the Casanova act for a second and tossing the diary on the bed. He cups your cheek, and leans in to kiss you. His plush lips meet yours, giving you a taste of sweet, beautiful reality.

"Mm." You grab hold of the sides of his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, drawing a quiet moan from you. Time seems to stop as your mouths move together as one, and joyful tears spring from your eyes. This is all you've ever wanted. To love Eddie, and to have him love you back.

He carefully leads you backwards to the bed, laying you down on top of it as he kneels above you. He pulls away, wiping the salty tracks from your face. He smiles warmly, admiring every last bit of you and saving it away to remember this forever. "Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, as if it's his dying wish.

"Please." You reply softly, giving him a nod.

"Perfect." He reaches over for the diary, finding his place as he lays down beside you. "Now...where were we?" He muses, eyes bugging out when he reads what comes next. "Christ, I picked a good night to be nosy." He turns his head to look at you, wearing a devilish grin unlike you've ever seen on him before. "I swear to god, I'm gonna make all your dreams come true, babydoll. Even if it takes all night." He purrs, before chucking the damned book away one last time and pouncing on you.

[ynbabe]

Come Through ୨୧ George Russell x Rockstar! Reader

Is rockstar the right word? idk I just know bro is crazy bts, the white boy with Excel persona is fooling NO ONE Georgie boy. Also, Reader has vibes of the Weekend song, hence the fic name.

Lando thinks it's all a joke. He hadn't been crying, screaming and manifesting for the past three years only for his celebrity crush to be dating someone else, another driver that too.

"WHO-" He yells as he storms into Max's room, where most of the drivers had collected, they hadn't decided but they all just gravitated towards the blonde with sweet blue eyes who listened to the vent and gave the best hugs, "AFTER ALL WE WENT THROUGH- WHO IS DATING Y/N L/N?"

All eyes were on him, Max lying on his bed, Charles, Carlos and Daniel with him. Lance, Esteban and Pierre were on the sofa, playing FIFA on Max's PS5, George and Alex were sharing the smaller two-seater, Zhou and Yuki were passing a tennis ball to each other and Logan and Oscar were sleeping, cuddling close on the floor surrounded by pillows, but were now woken up by Landos yelling.

"Lando stop screaming," Charles yelled back.

"No," he simply replied and made his way to the bed where he jumped on top of Carlos and Daniel, the older of whom groaned and grumbled something about his back, but Lando didn't care, he pushed his phone in Max's face, blurring his face in Carlos's neck.

xoxof1

xoxof1 Y/n l/n an infamous British rockstar most famous for her multiple dating scandals and most recently an arrest is rumoured to date a F1 driver.

username MOTHER WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE 😭😭😭

username girl... knowing her it's like Lewis or someone

username fr like hasn't she 'dated' a dozen older guys not to mention her record with women username girl why are you hating like a man, she's iconic and we all know it

username just lost my wife to a vroom-vroom man no one talk to me

Max began laughing, looking up from the post to the distraught Lando currently getting his hair played with by Carlos.

"Mate, I don't think you're her type," he threw the phone back to the whining boy.

"Yeah? And how would you know? I look exactly like Edward!" He pointed to the bassist of the band you were a part of.

"Kelly loves her music..." he muttered, looking away much to the younger man's amusement.

"HAH!" He shrieked, "SHE'S NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND ANYMORE!!" He laughed to which Carlos pushed his head down, eliciting an 'oomph'.

"I've been told many times," Max muttered to himself and turned to Lando to hear the rest of his rant, though loud and fast, the boy was the best source of entertainment they had.

"Max, look at her band, she's so coooool," he groaned, passing the phone to him again.

Cupidd

Cupidd THANK YOU LA!! We'll be back with 'young, numb and brunette' after this short break!!

y/nl/n My old man said I had to be in Shangai this weekend 🫡 but trust- I will be back to piss y'all off with Eddie asap

edwrdnotcllen MY WIFE HAS LEFT ME FOR A TWINK HELP y/nl/n shut up Eddie your the twinkiest twink I know username I love that they have had multiple partners in the past yet still always call each other husband and wife username I pity her boyfriend 😭 imagine having to compete with a man who looks like Edward

username SHES GOING TO A RACE????

username nooooo pls my parents

username girl they have never dated, both y/n and Edward have had multiple partners and relationships with men and women in the past. Leave them alone, they're adults username FOUND Y/N'S BFS ALT GUYS!!!

"She's coming to China?" Max asked no one in particular but Lando took it as an invitation to freak out.

"Bro please, please, please let me win this one, I'll owe you forever, bro please," Lando tried his puppy eyes on Max but Max jumped out of bed calling his girlfriend, walking out the room trying his best to convince the older woman to not attend the race.

"I have so much work to do," Lando gasped and followed Max out the room.

The race was one to remember, with Max winning but George a close second and Lando barely a tenth away on the third.

He hadn't been able to find the girl anywhere but at least he got points for the team. He went to the McLaren team party and forgot about the other celebration taking place.

xoxof1

xoxof1 The unexpected couple have been revealed in a series of leaked pictures of the private f1 party after the driver George Russell had a podium finish for his Shangai race.

username Mr.Russell I was unaware of your rizz, forgive me sir.

username WHITE MAN DOES IT IN ONE DAY 😭😭😭

landonorris When i catch you george when I catch you

username LANDO??? username he's one of ussssss username bbg you get me 😮‍💨 in ways no man ever has

George woke up with the worst headache he ever had in his life, he was sure he'd never get over this hangover but then he saw y/n next to him, hair tussled wearing the white shirt he was wearing last night.

"Y/n, darling, wake up," he pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

"mmhm," the woman groaned, turning to the blonde next to her and kissing him, the taste of vodka still fresh in her mouth.

She melted into his touch as he deepened the kiss, " Mornin' G," she whispered to him, voice hoarse from the night before.

He smiled in return, placing one last kiss on the corner of her lips. She searched around for her phone, finding it fallen amongst their haphazardly discarded clothes and opened Instagram to thousands of notifications.

She was used to it by now, it was quite fun.

y/nl/n

y/nl/n If I speak... @/georgerussell

edwrdnotcllen @/yn/ln you are so welcome for not squealing as soon as I knew

y/nl/n girl you asked me if you could kiss him after??? edwrdnotcllen And I still am?? username WHAT-

username I just know Lando is fuming rn

username y'all need a third? a dog? a maid?

username it should be me instead of him!!!

username god I see what you've done for others 😭

"Darling, did you post-" George had just begun but his room was rudely broken into, running in he saw a hyper papaya-coloured blur followed by a very hungover Max Verstappen.

Lando gasped looking at the woman next to George, screeching at an inhuman pitch, "HOW'D THIS PIECE OF VANILLA FRAPPUCCINO WOO HER??!?!?" He pointed at Y/n, making the woman laugh.

George offended, scoffed at the boy, "Well if you must know, I met her at Nando's party-" he was cut off once again, this time by the Dutch man.

"That makes sense actually," he said and immediately grabbed Lando by the collar and dragged him out, "Sorry guys!" he yelled after himself.

"I like your friends," Y/n said smirking making the taller man blush and push the woman slightly, before collapsing back into bed, making a silent promise of never trying to out-drink the woman again.

[dissapointu]

How Jinx Would Act if Their Partner Got Hurt

1. Initial Shock, Then Panic

When you get hurt, Jinx’s first reaction is pure shock. She freezes up for a second, her eyes wide as she takes in the sight of you in pain. If it’s something serious, her breath hitches, and she might even stagger back, her hands trembling as if unsure what to do. The chaotic energy that usually surrounds her is completely gone in those first few seconds, replaced with an intense panic. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” she’ll shout, her voice high with worry.

2. Immediate, Protective Instincts Kick In

After the initial shock, her protective instincts take over. Without thinking, she’s rushing to your side, hovering over you like a shield. She’ll try to stop any bleeding, grab whatever supplies are around, and do everything in her power to help you. “Just hold on! I’ve got you!” she’ll say, voice trembling but determined. She might not always know the best way to handle the injury, but she’s resourceful and won’t let you suffer alone.

3. Overwhelming Guilt

Once the initial panic dies down, Jinx will likely blame herself. If she wasn’t around to prevent your injury or if she feels responsible in any way, she’ll spiral. “I should’ve been more careful! This is my fault!” She’ll mutter to herself as she tries to help you, the guilt eating at her, even if it wasn’t her fault. She’ll be apologizing profusely, not knowing how to make it right. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! Please don’t leave me…” Her words will be a mixture of anxiety, desperation, and self-blame.

4. Constant Reassurance

Throughout the whole ordeal, Jinx will be desperately trying to reassure you, even if her actions are a little frantic. She’ll check on you over and over, making sure you’re not slipping in and out of consciousness or feeling worse. “Hey, hey! Stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine. Don’t leave me.” Her tone will waver, alternating between tough and vulnerable, depending on how scared she’s feeling. She might even try to distract you with jokes or random ramblings just to keep you awake, “So, uh, if we ever get out of here, I think we should start a rock band, you know? Just to make things more interesting, right?”

5. Frantic Attempts to Fix It

Jinx will want to do everything she can to help you heal, even if she doesn’t have the knowledge or skills to do it perfectly. She’ll go into overdrive, grabbing whatever she can find to patch you up. Whether it’s bandages, alcohol, or anything she can improvise, she’ll try to make sure you’re taken care of. “Okay, don’t freak out, I’ve got this… kind of,” she’ll mutter, clearly not knowing what she’s doing but too determined to let that stop her.

6. Unable to Stay Calm

Jinx is rarely calm, but when you’re hurt, she’s even less so. Her nerves are frayed, and she can’t stop moving, her body twitching with energy that she can’t quite direct. She might be pacing back and forth, muttering to herself, and checking your injury over and over. “Why does this always happen to the people I care about?” she’ll say, almost pleading with the universe. Her chaos becomes less playful and more desperate when it comes to your well-being.

7. Won’t Leave Your Side

Once she realizes you’re hurt, Jinx is glued to you. She won’t leave your side, even if you insist that she go do something else. “No way, I’m not leaving you alone like this. You think I’m gonna let you suffer by yourself? Not happening.” Whether you’re at home or in the middle of some chaotic situation, she’ll refuse to go anywhere without you. She might even get a little clingy, not wanting to risk anything else happening to you.

8. Subtle Display of Vulnerability

Despite her tough exterior, Jinx is deeply vulnerable when it comes to those she loves. After you get hurt, she may hide it behind humor or chaotic behavior, but she’s deeply shaken. Her usual confidence falters, and she’ll show a rare side of herself that she tries to keep hidden. “You… you can’t be hurt, okay? I won’t let that happen. I’ll fix this, I promise,” she might say, her voice low and unsteady as she holds you close.

9. Overcompensating with Affection

When she sees you starting to recover, or even if you just need a little comfort, Jinx will shower you with affection. She’ll hug you tightly, kiss your forehead, and refuse to let you go for a while. “You’re gonna be fine, I swear! I’m not letting anyone hurt you, not while I’m around!” She’ll be unusually affectionate, and might even pull you into her lap or cuddle you to make sure you feel safe. Her way of showing that she cares will be to dote on you, even if she’s still a little shaken from what happened.

10. Teasing, But with a Touch of Care

Once she feels like things are back under control and you’re safe, Jinx will return to her usual playful self—but it’ll be softer, gentler than normal. She’ll tease you, trying to lighten the mood, but you’ll notice that her jokes are just a little more caring than usual. “You know, for someone so tough, you sure make a big deal out of a little scrape. You’re lucky I’m here to take care of you!” She’ll still joke, but she’s showing that she’s relieved you’re okay and doesn’t want to let her guard down again.

11. Planning to Make Sure It Doesn’t Happen Again

Once the panic dies down and you’re healing, Jinx will immediately start plotting to ensure nothing like that happens again. “Next time, we get way more prepared. Like, armor prepared, or something.” Her protective instincts kick into overdrive, and she’ll try to figure out every possible scenario to keep you safe in the future. She might even come up with elaborate plans to protect you from harm, even if it’s over-the-top and unnecessary. It’s her way of showing that she’ll do anything to prevent you from being hurt again.

12. Reluctantly Letting You Rest

While Jinx wants to keep you close, she’s also going to keep a watchful eye on you. She might insist that you rest or take it easy, making sure you don’t push yourself too hard. If you’re feeling tired, she’ll stay beside you, making sure you’re comfortable. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You just take it easy, and I’ll be right here with you. I’m not leaving.” Her concern will be tangible, and she’ll do everything in her power to make sure you’re okay.

In conclusion, when you get hurt, Jinx will go into full-on protective mode. She’ll be chaotic, frantic, and full of love and worry, showing how deeply she cares in her own wild, unpredictable way. Whether it’s making sure you’re patched up or keeping you close, she won’t rest until she knows you’re safe and well.

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 8 Stages

Summary: The truth is the hardest pill to swallow. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 9.5k Warnings: **THIS CONTAINS SERIES SPOILERS** violence, blood, angst x1000, language, brief hospital setting, mentions of alcohol, stages of grief, heavy emotions A/N: This was one of the most cathartic and emotional pieces of writing I've ever done.

Masterlist | Ko-fi

You didn’t realize how white your knuckles were until you glanced down at your hands gripping the steering wheel. You hadn’t moved the car a single inch since you saw Bennett’s car. It was the same piece of shit silver sedan he always drove; you’d know it in a heartbeat. Even if you didn’t recognize it, you could spot his floppy blonde hair and lean frame standing on your porch. You mindlessly searched your purse for your phone, dialing Joel’s number. You’d hate yourself for this later, but you needed to lie. 

“Everythin’ okay?” Joel answered. 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you lied. For your sake, you hoped that your voice wouldn’t be as shaky as your body. “I didn’t mean to freak you out earlier. Why don’t you come over later, okay? I just got home, and my head is pounding.” 

“I was ‘bout to leave my house, baby. Can I come over with some medicine and some food? I’ll take care of you,” Joel insisted. 

“No!” You panicked. “No, it’s okay. I’ll call you later, and you can come over. I promise.”

“Baby, y’sure you’re okay?”

You inhaled sharply, your eyes glued to Bennett only yards away. God, you were terrible at lying, but if Joel knew Bennett was here, you’d be left with a dead body in your front yard. 

“I’m fine, Joel,” you sighed. “Just need some rest.”

“I’ll be waitin’ for you to call,” Joel said. You could hear the defeat in his voice. 

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“See you later, baby.”

You couldn’t hang up the phone fast enough. Joel would hate you for lying, but you needed to do this—whatever it was—alone. Everything in your life had been flipped on its head in just a week, and now, the man who had broken your heart beyond amends was standing at your front door. You weren’t sure if you would survive this.

Taking your foot off the brake, you rolled your car into the driveway. Bennett glanced at your car as you put it in park, his blue eyes piercing through the distance between your bodies. The coldness of his stare was just the same as it was two years ago; nothing about him had changed. 

Your legs could barely hold up your trembling body as you exited the car and made your way to the porch. Bennett wore a casual business suit, the pale blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his black slacks hugged his long legs. He hadn’t changed one bit. He was always the businessman. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned, bounding up the porch steps.

Bennett eyed you as you got closer, shifting his weight and drinking you in. You were well aware of your appearance: the long work day had left your hair tousled and your blouse wrinkled from sitting at your desk. You spent two years imagining what seeing him again would be like, and in every stupid imagination, you weren’t looking worn down and tired. You imagined you’d be triumphant and strong, but you were small again in his shadow. 

“Hello to you, too,” Bennett grinned. Your name off his tongue was venomous, a slow, poisonous drip that ran through your veins. Compared to Joel’s accent drawling out your name, Bennett said it like a curse. 

“I’ll ask you again, Bennett. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Bennett’s hands twisted together in front of his body, and your eyes caught the sun’s light radiating off a golden band sitting snugly on his left hand. He was married. You steadied your body's sway, your vision blurring around the edges. 

“You’re— you’re married,” you stammered. 

Bennett glanced at his hand, his eyes roaming back to yours with a smug grin.

“Just tied the knot in May,” he shrugged. 

“To who? What—. I don’t understand why you’re here.” Your mind was reeling. 

“Her name is Natalie. We met through work about a year ago. We hit it off immediately, and I knew she was the one.”

Your knees threatened to buckle, and the strong composure you tried to maintain slipped. Bennett was married. He was in love. And it was to someone else. 

“If she’s the one, then why are you here? At my house?”

Bennett looked up at the porch overhang, his eyes tracking over the flowers planted in the yard on the walkway leading to the front door. You saw it in his eyes; you had made this a home. 

“Your house,” Bennett echoed. 

“Yes, Bennett. My fucking house. The one you abandoned when you ran away.”

Bennett scoffed, tucking his hands into his pocket. 

“You still don’t remember, huh?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked at you.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethed. You stepped forward, baring your teeth.

Not only was Bennett here, but he was taunting your memory. Nothing had fucking changed. 

“A friend of mine saw you out to dinner with someone a couple of weeks ago,” Bennett started. “I was curious and figured I’d drop by and ask about it.”

You laughed.

“Not only did you leave me, but you got married. And now you want to act like you give a shit about who I date?” You accused. “Are you that fucking cruel, Bennett? Do you have any clue how fucking insane you sound? You have no control over my life anymore. Who I date and what I do is none of your business! You decided that the day you left.”

“I’m here because I care about you,” he defended.

“You never cared about me!” You yelled. “You left me! You have no right to come back. Not now. Not ever.”

Bennett stepped forward, both of you toe to toe. You couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. Something about the way he stared at you made you rethink his words. He looked concerned; he looked at you like he did care. It was a look you hadn’t seen since before the accident. 

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” He asked. 

“Know what, Bennett? Stop being so fucking cryptic!”

Bennett opened his mouth to speak, but the words were drowned out by the sound of tires squealing. Your head whipped to the side, your eyes widening as you saw Joel barreling out of his truck and up the yard. 

“Joel?” You exhaled.

You told him you’d call him later. You told him not to come here. Why didn’t he fucking listen? Why now?

“Bennett!” He shouted, running up the front steps. 

You barely made it out of the way before Joel’s fist sailed into Bennett’s jaw, the sound of bones cracking echoing around you. There was no time to recover or react as Joel grabbed Bennett by the shirt collar, spinning him into the wall and shoving him on his toes. Joel was only a few inches taller than Bennett, but in his grip, Bennett looked smaller than you had ever seen him. Blood dripped from his lip as he whimpered in Joel’s grasp, a deep purple bruise blooming across his cheek and jaw. 

“Joel!” You gasped, your voice finally returning. 

You ran toward his body, trying to tear him off Bennett’s body. Joel only shrugged away your hands, his fists tightening around Bennett’s collar.

“I told you I’d kill you if you ever came back,” Joel snarled.

You staggered back after hearing his words. What did Joel mean? What was he saying?

Bennett smiled through bloodied teeth, pushing his face closer to Joel’s. His eyes shifted between yours and Joel's, and his lips curled back.

“We both agreed to stay away,” Bennett said. “Then I find out you just couldn’t give up. You came right back to her. Does she even know?”

“Y’have no fuckin’ business to be back here, Bennett,” Joel snapped. 

Joel used brute strength to wrangle Bennett to the ground, his arm winding back before he assaulted him with another pound of his fist. Bennett’s face snapped to the side, blood spurting onto the wood-paneled floor. Joel delivered an onslaught of punches, an explosive display of his anger shown in the form of sadistic violence. Never did you imagine Joel to be so cruel, so unforgiving… so terrifying. You watched in horror as Joel terrorized Bennett with strike after strike. You couldn’t stomach it, your body swirling with nausea as more blood pooled around Bennett’s face.

“Joel! Stop it!” You finally screamed.

You threw yourself at him, yanking at his shoulders to try and tear him away from Bennett’s limp body. Bennett’s eyes were hardly open, shallow groans escaping his mouth as he shook his head back and forth. He was hardly recognizable. 

“Joel!” You pleaded. “Stop it, please!”

Finally, Joel relented, rocking back onto his heels with blood splattered on his hands and shirt. This wasn’t the man you loved. This was someone else… someone terrifying. 

“I’m calling the cops,” you panted, your breath ragged as you tried to swallow down the vomit rising in your throat.

“Don’t,” Joel argued. You didn’t recognize the tone of his voice; it was so harsh and angry.

“I can’t just leave him like this, Joel! Don’t you see what you did to him? I don’t—I don’t know what the fuck just happened. I told you to stay home. I can’t… We need to call an ambulance.”

Joel stood to his full height, glancing down at his hands, their tanned skin battered and bloody. Whoever this man was before you, it was not the man you were falling in love with. 

“What are you gonna tell them, baby? Because if they see me like this, I’m goin’ to jail.”

“Are you threatening me right now, Joel?” You gaped. “After everything you just did.”

His eyes met yours, the darkness inside them drowning out the brown you were so familiar with. His eyebrows furrowed together, scrutinizing your body language and disgust as you stared at him. 

“Call them,” he grunted. “I don’t give a fuck. I told him what to expect if he ever came back.”

There it was again. That same sentence that confused the hell out of you. It jarred you in an unsettling way, but you pushed it down and focused on the man lying unconscious on the porch. You ran to your car, dug for your phone, and dialed 911.

You remained by your car until the police showed up, their flashing lights and sirens lighting up the fading sun as it drifted into duskfall. Joel sat on the porch steps, his head hung low and bruised hands in his lap. Neither of you had spoken a word since you called the police, and his words to Bennett still swarmed inside your mind. You had lied about the headache to him earlier, but now it was true. And you felt fucking miserable. 

Two police officers exited their car, meeting you on the driveway. 

“Can you tell us what happened here, ma’am?” One of them asked. He was taller than Joel, his face clean-shaven and creased with aging skin. His hand remained comfortably over the grip of his gun on his utility belt, and you tracked each movement as your heart thumped in your ears. 

You swallowed thickly, deciding to do the unspeakable. You lied.

“I came home, and my ex-fiancé was waiting for me,” you explained, meticulously fabricating a story that would save Joel. Despite your confusion, a small piece of you still wanted to protect him. “I called my boyfriend and told him I felt unsafe. I tried waiting in my car, but—but my ex dragged me from the car and was threatening to hurt me if I didn’t let him inside. That's when Joel, my boyfriend, showed up. Everything he did was to protect me.”

The lie tasted bitter as it sat heavy on your tongue. It was hard to remain composed as your headache grew stronger. 

“We’ll need statements from both parties,” the officer explained, reaching for a small notepad. 

The other officer, a short, tan-skinned man, stayed with you and gathered your personal information. You watched as the first officer approached Joel, your body tense as you worried the stories wouldn’t add up. You lied for Joel. You hoped for both of your sakes he would fuck this up more than he had already. 

The blaring sound of sirens jolted you from your fixation on Joel, the ambulance coming to a rolling stop in front of your driveway. The neighborhood was slowly becoming crowded, with watchful neighbors littering the streets and front yards. You shrunk away from their wandering eyes, wishing the world could grow quiet and dark. 

Medics bounded up your driveway, a stretcher and medical supplies in hand. You bit your lip to contain the cries threatening to explode. You hated Bennett, but the brutal image of Joel’s fist crushing his face over and over again… you couldn’t erase it from your mind. Bennett was a piece of shit, but he didn’t deserve what happened. 

The other officer joined you again, tapping his pen against the notepad. Anxiety wove its way through your pounding headache, straining the air, trying to expel from your chest. 

“The medics are working on stabilizing him now,” he explained. “Mr. Miller’s story matches yours, so our next step is prosecution. Is that something you’d like to do, Miss Smith? I recommend filing a restraining order as soon as possible to prevent another incident like this.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you nodded. “Whatever you think is best.”

The officer cocked an eyebrow at your response, visibly confused. If you were following the path of your lie, a restraining order would make sense, but you also wanted to speak to Bennett after he recovered. You needed answers. You needed answers from him and Joel. 

“I’ll give you the contact information for an attorney that can help with the process, but other than that, we have everything we need tonight,” he said. “When your ex-fiance is awake and alert, we’ll gather his statement and file a full report. Medics will transfer him to St. David’s for further evaluations and motoring. If Mr. Miller needs further medical attention, please contact us so we can include it in the report.”

He handed you a business card with his name and number, and slowly, the commotion began to die out. You looked on in horror as the medics wheeled Bennett off in a stretcher, his face swollen and bandaged. He was a hollow version of the man you once considered so powerful. Your memories, your happiness… they were always his. And you didn’t know who owned those things anymore. Everything was crashing down around you, and you had no control.

Joel’s figure was shrouded in darkness as he stood by your front door. The anger still radiated off his body, but it was far more tame than it had been just an hour ago. The medics had cleaned and bandaged his hand, and he kept it cradled to his body. You made a conscious effort not to look at the red stains marring your porch; you’d worry about cleaning the mess tomorrow. You couldn’t stomach the smell and sight of it, not when your mind was plunging further under the pressure of your migraine. 

Joel said your name, steering you out of your swarming thoughts. You blinked up at him, your eyes hazy and blurred from tears.

“Why the hell are you here, Joel?” You snapped. “I told you to stay home, so why the fuck did you show up?”

“Somethin’ bout the way you sounded on the phone made me nervous. I’m not sorry I showed up, though,” he confessed. That wasn’t good enough.

“You either explain to me what the fuck just happened, or you leave,” you ordered. 

“I can explain everythin’, baby. Can we just go inside?” Joel asked.

“You actually think I’m letting you in my house after you almost killed someone?” You raged. “I don’t even recognize you right now, Joel! And what the fuck did you mean when you told Bennett never to come back? What did he mean when he said you both agreed to stay away? Do you know him, Joel? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Joel sighed, his eyes falling to the ground; he couldn’t even fucking look at you.

“Answer me, damn it!” You cried. “Why won’t you answer me!”

“Baby, can we please go in the house? I need you to sit down and listen to me when I explain everythin’.”

“No! I want you to tell me right now.”

Joel nodded, standing idle in front of you. 

“I knew about your accident before we met.”

You looked at him horrified, your body frozen. 

“How?” You asked. “You didn’t even know me until almost three months ago.”

“I knew ‘bout it ‘cause we were datin’ when it happened,” he sighed. Joel’s features began to soften, and the pain in his voice was almost impossible to ignore. 

“No,” you shook your head. “You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not! Would you just listen to me? Please?” He pleaded, stepping forward.

You staggered back, your back hitting the side wall of the house. Your knees barely held your weight as you tried to grasp his words. Joel rubbed his bandaged knuckles, sucking in a breath before continuing. 

“You and Bennett broke up after you moved to Austin,” he began. “Y’all had some big argument, so y’moved in with Maria since you were substitute teachin’ at her school—the same school you teach at now. It musta been a couple of months after the breakup, but there was a parent-teacher conference night, and I ran into you. That's how you and I met, baby. That was nearly five years ago.”

Like a saw cutting bone, your headache fractured into a million tiny pieces, each one a sharp stab to your brain as you tried to grasp onto Joel's words. It wasn’t true. He was lying. You were going crazy; all your hard work at remembering everything and moving on was crumbling down, sand through your fingertips you could not keep from falling away.

“No, I know you’re lying,” you denied, tears streaming down your face. “You’re just making some sick fucking joke out of my memory loss. That’s what this is, isn’t it? You saw an opportunity to make up some story after I shared the most traumatic part of myself. You and Bennett…” You heaved in a breath. “No. This—this isn’t true. You’re lying.”

“I’m not! And I can prove it, but let me finish explainin’,” he begged before continuing. “We dated for almost two years, alright? Best fuckin’ years of my life. Y’were the best thing to ever happen to me. You even moved in with me and Sarah! She loved you so so much, baby. We would go to her soccer games together and watch cartoons together. We took her campin’ in the summer before the accident. Everythin’ was amazing. So fuckin’ amazing.”

“Sarah?” You interjected. “She would have said something to me months ago. You can’t expect me to believe this.”

“I begged her not to say anythin’ to you when she started school,” he explained. “I didn’t want you knowin’ till I was ready. I wanted to do this my way.”

“Your way?” You scoffed. “You get to decide when it’s a good time to tell me everything I’ve known is a lie? Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?”

“Everyone wanted to wait ‘til it was the right time,” he defended. “We all hoped you'd remember if I came back into your life.”

You slid down the wall, your body crumbling to the ground. You buried your head in your hands, trying to quell the pain squeezing together inside your head. Nothing made sense. Everything felt like a lie. It wasn’t true. You kept telling yourself that if it was true, everyone you loved and trusted had lied to you for years. You had struggled alone for so long without the truth. 

“My parents? My sisters? They all knew?” You muttered. “Everyone kept this from me?”

Joel crouched in front of you, his hand hovering over your leg. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled. You shrunk away from him, curling your legs up to your chest and pressing into the wall. 

“The doctors and your parents thought it was best we didn’t mess with your memory,” he said, exasperated. “Bringin’ me into your life when y’didn’t remember me woulda set you back in recovery.”

“So, what?” You laughed bitterly. “Bennett just magically reappeared to save the day? Why did he come back if he and I were broken up?”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed tight. You shivered against the wind rustling through the yard, your thin shirt barely keeping you warm. Not even the warmth of your tears coating your cheeks could fight the chill creeping through your spine.

“Your parents made the decision to reach out to Bennett,” Joel argued. “And he loved the idea. Bennet loved knowin’ I’d have no access to your life, and he’d have you back.”

“My parents wouldn’t do that. They hate him.” You kept shaking your head, hoping things would begin to make sense.

“They hate him, but they love you more, baby,” he whispered. “And I loved you—I love you—and I was willing to risk it all. If there were some chance you would get your memory back, then I’d be here waiting for you.”

“But I never remembered! I still don’t remember, Joel! So why now? Why did you come back?”

Joel rocked back onto his heels, his body falling back until he sat before you. Tears glistened in his eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. He didn’t have the right to be sad; he fucked up. He lied to you, and now he was paying the consequences. Your indifference and anger would torture him like he had tortured you. Like everyone had tortured you. 

“I just wanted the chance,” he admitted. “I wanted to know if that spark was still here between us. I know it’s still there, baby. This is real.”

“Don’t call me baby,” you cried, your voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t real. You lied to me, Joel, and so did everyone else. Everyone decided what they thought was best for me, and I have suffered because of it. Do you not see that?”

“We did it to protect you,” he defended. “Y’gotta understand that.”

You pulled yourself to your feet, tripping over his body and toward the door. You wanted nothing to do with this conversation anymore. You fumbled with the door handle, the tremor of your fingers making your grip weak on the lock. The sound of Joel standing behind you ignited another wave of nerves, and you spun to face him. 

“I will never forgive you for this,” you cried. 

He stepped forward, his eyes pleading with words he couldn’t say. You shoved at his chest, forcing him away from you. Joel’s brown eyes looked at you as if he could see your heart breaking. He choked out your name, broken syllables that no longer sounded beautiful on his tongue. 

“Don’t ever come back here,” you threatened. “Don’t contact me. Don’t contact my family. You need to leave. Now.”

“Please,” he begged. Heavy tears fell down his tanned cheeks, leading to the scruff lining his jaw. You would have ached to soothe his sadness yesterday, but not now. Not when his sadness stemmed from the lies that filled the gaps in your memories. 

“Leave!” You screamed, shoving him again. 

Joel stumbled back, staring at you wide-eyed and heartbroken. You stepped forward again, your hands ready to push against his chest one more time. He lifted his hands in defeat, walking backward down the porch steps. 

“I love you,” he whispered in the night. “I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t wait to see him leave. You threw open the front door and slammed it shut just as fast, your body slumping against the wood as you swallowed down your nausea. 

You wanted to vomit.

You wanted to scream. 

You wanted to stop loving Joel. 

The room was spinning around you, and you had no chance to find your bearings before the haze washed over your mind and dropped you to the ground. 

Everything was dark around you. You groaned as you peeled yourself from the floor, your head still throbbing. The lies grew louder as you tried to recall everything Joel had said. 

I wanted to do this my way. 

I love you. 

Lie after lie, overlapping in the ocean of pain, threading its way through your body. The house felt colder than you were used to, your body still shivering as you stood on unsteady legs. You walked to the kitchen in search of water; every swallow felt like knives slicing through your throat. You fumbled for the kitchen light, rummaging through the cup cabinet for a glass. Two gray mugs sat snug on the shelf, the reminder of Joel staring straight at you. Another wave of emotions coursed through you, and you reached for them. 

You turned them in your hands, the faint smell of coffee lingering on the ceramic. The quiet moment spent together no longer felt special; it felt like a disgusting lie. Joel didn’t guess how you liked your coffee; he knew. He knew everything about you. The rage inside you returned, stronger than it had been on the porch. Your hands squeezed the mugs, and you hurled them into the nearest wall, a scream erupting from your mouth. You didn’t flinch as they shattered. You didn’t blink as they pierced the wall and chipped the paint. This house was built on lies, and you wanted to ruin every inch of it. You reached for another mug, smashing it on the ground before you. Then another…and another, until you stood in a pile of broken shards of your life. 

It wasn’t enough. 

You walked around the house, shattering anything you could find worth breaking. You stood in the living room and stared at the dust-covered bookshelf, your chest rising and falling. The books crammed on the shelves taunted you, the broken spines and dog-eared pages another reminder of the years you’d never remember. The adrenaline and anger led you to the shelf, and you used all of your strength to push it over. It toppled to the ground, its weight shaking the floor beneath your feet. A few books made their way out of the destruction, their bindings crushed by the downfall. 

You staggered back to the couch, slumping into the stiff cushions. Flashes of Joel wrapped around you flooded your mind, and you immediately rolled off of it. Your ass hit the ground, and you crumbled into a ball. Somewhere in the distance, your phone rang, the shrill of the ringer echoing through the destruction you had created. Maybe it was your mom with news of your dad. Maybe it was Beth. But you knew your phone would never light up with Joel’s name again. 

You rubbed your temples, trying to massage the ache throbbing in your skull. 

You spent another hour on the ground until you finally decided to drag yourself to the bathroom. Under the blinding lights, you stared at the stranger in the mirror. You didn’t recognize her. Whoever she was, she wasn’t the girl you had been hours ago. Your eyes were swollen from crying, your cheeks flushed, and your lips chapped from screaming. The wrinkles in your blouse were worse than they had been after school, the corners untucked from your work pants and splattered with remnants of Bennett’s blood. You didn’t recall ever getting close enough to the bloodshed, but the evidence of Joel’s violence was all over your body. You couldn’t tear your clothes off fast enough. 

You turned on the shower and didn’t wait for the water to run warm. The cold spray washed over your hair, and you scrubbed every inch of your body until your skin was raw and red. You ran the loufa over the places on your body Joel had touched: your stomach, your neck, your breasts. There wasn’t enough soap and water to rid yourself of the phantom touches left on your skin. You hated him. No, you wanted to hate him. You shook your head… you hated him. 

You hated everyone in your life. 

The imprint of Joel’s body was still pressed into the other side of the bed, and you couldn’t stand looking at the pillow he had laid his head on beside you. Those moments you shared under the light of the moon no longer felt special. He knew your body once before; he had seen you stripped bare and spread open. You gave yourself to him willingly, which meant something to you. Stripping off the sheets, you tossed them to the floor, curling up on the cold mattress. Sleep evaded you, so you let the night pass, your eyes watching the hours slip away through the view behind the bedroom window. 

Eventually, the sun rose and colored your room in soft morning sunshine. It angered you that the Earth continued to spin; the world hadn’t stopped moving, though you remained stuck in the series of events from yesterday. It was so fucking unfair that people around you would wake up today and move through their day with contentment and happiness. You didn’t know if you’d ever experience those emotions again. You were spiraling into each stage of grief, the overwhelming pressure of them consuming every fiber of your being. 

You mustered up whatever energy you had from yesterday to pull yourself from the empty bed. You were numb as you dressed yourself for work, avoiding the mirror as you put on a black dress and flats. You had briefly considered covering your dark circles and puffy eyes with makeup, but your exhaustion and lack of care said otherwise. 

Vacating your room, you walked into the mess you had created. Shards of broken dishes and glass littered the floor, the wallpaper torn in areas, and the bookshelf still lying half-destroyed in the living room. A laugh bubbled out of your mouth, the sound foreign and distorted. You did this. Your rage and hatred for everything around you ruined the only haven you had left. You couldn’t contain the laughter as it wracked through your body, tears springing from your eyes as your eyes glazed over the catastrophe of each room. The denial settled back over you when the laughter died, leaving you weeping in an empty house. 

As you left the house, you averted your eyes, your self-restraint working overtime not to focus on the blood stains marring the porch. You’d deal with that later. The silence inside your car weighed heavy on you while you drove to the school, your mind numb and empty as you pulled into your parking space. You should have found a substitute for the day, but you needed the distraction. Who knows what would have become of your house if you stayed in it any longer. The idea of setting it on fire didn’t sound so bad. 

You decided to lock your classroom door until school began; you didn’t need nor want to see Maria. She was just as much a liar as the rest, leading you on all these months and pushing you toward Joel. That “Happy Hour” night was just a ploy to get you and Joel in the same space; her intentions were never pure. Everyone had blood on their hands in this stupid fucking plan. 

The school bell rang, and you hesitantly opened your door. You plastered on the fake smile you had mastered, feeling uncomfortable after the last few months of actually feeling happy. Joel took that away in the span of a night. 

As the students filed in, you greeted them with a tight-lipped smile and a brief hello before settling into your desk chair. You weren’t in the right headspace to teach today, so you opted for quiet reading time and a few worksheets: anything to keep the noise levels down and the questions to a bare minimum. 

The classes went as smoothly as possible, with only a few outbursts of noise from each class. You hadn’t found the time to cry between each one, too busy finding the courage to face Sarah. 

Joel’s voice rang in your head as you watched her walk into the classroom, her curls bouncing with each step. 

She loved you so much, baby.

How could you believe Joel when he said something like that? It wasn’t true; it was manipulative. You never knew Sarah until this year. She was just as much a stranger to you as any other student until Joel entered your life. Yes, you cared for her, but you didn’t love her. Even she had been a part of all of this, her last conversation with you was just as much of a lie as everything else. You doubted Joel told Tommy he loved you, and you doubted Sarah even heard the conversation—if there really was a conversation to begin with. She was pushing you toward him like everyone else did. 

Everyone had a say in your life except for you. You were a bystander among their choices; nothing in the last three years had been in your control. You were a puppet on a string, tossed everywhere until it pleased them. 

“Okay, class, today is just an easy day for you,” you announced, your voice harsh and clipped. “Take out your reading for the next unit and work on chapters one through three. Once you finish, please grab a worksheet from my desk and get started on that.”

A unified groan sounded through the room, and that was your breaking point. Standing from your desk, you leveled the entire desk with a heavy glare.

“I don’t want to hear a single word today,” you snapped. “Open your books and start reading. Please.”

They all looked at you in terror. You had never been one to snap or be quick to anger, but you were teetering on the edge of eruption. One more word, and you would explode. The students sorted their backpacks for their books, the sound of pages rustling the only noise surrounding you. Slumping back into your chair, you sighed heavily and turned to your computer. 

An email sat unread in your mailbox, and you clicked it open with a pit in your stomach. 

Ms. Smith: My deepest apologies for your recent family emergency. Per the quarterly requirements, parent-teacher conferences must be completed by the end of the week.  If you need anything, please do not hesitate to reach out. Many thanks, Principal Edmonds 

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck Fuck.

You completely forgot about parent-teacher conferences. In the chaos of the last week, it had slipped your mind entirely. You scrounged through your binder of schedules and pulled out the spreadsheet you had created, skimming through the list to find Sarah’s name. She was the last on the list. Fuck. 

Seeing Joel this week would be too soon for the open wound bleeding inside your chest. You created a mock email to send to each parent, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you landed on Joel’s email. You couldn’t avoid just one student during the conferences, even though every atom in your body screamed at you to do it. Without a second to overthink your choices, you sent your mass email and closed your inbox. 

As the class continued, students drifted to your desk for their worksheets. Sarah was among the first in the groups to come up; her eyes lowered to the ground, and a frown dragged down her lips. A piece you ached for her; she was just a child amid a web of lies. Then, there was another piece of you that understood Sarah was wiser than you realized. She understood the severity of the situation, yet she continued to persist. Were the soccer games even part of Joel's meticulous plan? 

“Miss Smith,” she cautioned. 

“Is there something you need, Sarah?” You scowled. You were being harsh, but you couldn’t find a fuck to give about it. 

“No. I—uh—I just wanted to ask if things were okay,” she stammered. “You know, between you and my dad. I shouldn’t have said anything yesterday. It was—.”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Sarah,” you interjected. You leaned forward, locking your hands together. “You shouldn’t be worrying about my dating life, nor should you worry about your father’s. I am your teacher, and these conversations need to stop.”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, her eyes still staring at the ground. “I understand.”

She sulked back to her desk, never looking back at you. 

When the final bell rang, you exhaled relief and listened to the class chatter quietly as they packed up to leave. You quickly cleaned your desk, stuffed your things into your bag, and slung it over your shoulder. Maria's voice drifted down the hall before you could lock your door correctly.

“I’ve been trying to catch you all day!” She said, exasperated. 

You rolled your eyes, dropping your keys in your bag. Inhale. Exhale. 

“Sorry, Maria. I’ve just been busy,” you lied. “I need to get home, okay? We can catch up later.”

“Is everything alright?” She pressed. “Is it your dad? Is he okay?”

You whipped your head toward her, the venom creeping over your tongue. Inhale. Exhale.

“I haven’t had time to check in. I’ve been busy.”

Maria eyed you wearily, the dots connecting in her head the longer she stared at you. She saw the anger plastered on your face; she could hear the bitterness in your voice. Her lips trembled as she tried to piece together something to say. 

“Did something happen with Joel…” Her voice drifted off. 

“Don’t, Maria. I need to get going.”

You rushed down the hall, leaving her between empty classrooms and lingering students. 

St. David’s Medical Center looked the same as it did three years ago. Nothing had changed since you had been rushed here in an ambulance, your life hanging in the balance and memory gone. You’d never forget the moment you woke up in the hospital bed, bleary-eyed and confused. 

The brick building towered over you as you entered the ER. You stilled the erratic pulse in your veins before asking a nurse which floor Bennett had been transferred to. You didn’t want to do this—you didn’t want to see him—but you deserved answers that Joel didn’t have to offer. He hadn’t been the one with you the last three years; he didn’t know the other side of the story. 

The elevator ride up to the trauma unit was miserable, the nerves building inside you with each passing floor. You weren’t sure what to expect when you entered Bennett’s room, but you hoped for the best. Maybe he’d talk. Maybe he’d scream. Maybe he’d threaten to sue you…or Joel. All of which were valid reactions. The elevator door slid open, exposing you to a fluorescent hallway, a blur of nurses passing by as you walked through the corridor. 

The door to his room was shut, but you spotted a petite blonde woman through the cracks of the blinds. Natalie. Dammit, you forgot he had a wife, and that made all of this much more complicated. Sucking in a deep breath, you knocked. 

“You aren’t welcome here,” she seethed, cracking the door open an inch. 

“I understand, and I’m so sorry. I just—I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I’m at fault for all of this. I really am sorry,” you apologized. 

Natalie’s green eyes pierced into you, little daggers jabbing into the places in your heart that were still left intact. She was a few inches taller than you, her frame more petite and athletic than yours. You could understand why Bennett married her; she was perfect. You had no reason to be angry with her for his decisions, but you needed Natalie to know why you needed answers.

“Is he awake?” You asked, attempting to peer over her shoulder into the room. 

She quickly blocked your view, moving into the space that allowed you to see in. 

“You need to leave,” she snapped. “Our lawyer will contact you, and you can apologize to him.”

“Has he told you anything about me?” You tried a different angle. “If he has, you know why I need to talk to him. What happened yesterday…I had nothing to do with it. I was a bystander in all of it, and I know that doesn’t make the situation better, but I need to talk to him.”

“And I need you to fucking leave!” She raged. 

You were defeated, tired, and left with gaps in your memory that would never be filled with answers. Nodding slowly, you wound your hands together, twisting your fingers as you stood, reluctant to leave.

“Listen, when he gets better can you please just—can someone let me know? And if he ever wants to talk to me again, I’d really like to speak with him.”

“Like I said, our lawyer will contact you.”

The sound of movement behind her stirred her away, her head glancing back at the bed. You waited idly, trying to get a glimpse of Bennett. All you could make out was splotchy, swollen skin and bandages covering half his face. When you thought about Joel, a new wave of disgust flooded you. He did this. He not only ruined your life, but he ruined Bennett’s life, too. Joel nearly killed him last night, and the guilt would weigh on you heavily for that. 

“Natalie,” you heard Bennett’s voice echo into the hall. It was broken and raw, and you watched the door close in your face as she returned to his bedside. 

You remained outside the door for several minutes, not knowing what to say or where to go. This had been your only chance at learning the truth from his side, but Natalie persisted in not giving you the opportunity. You understood, though; you understood her pain. 

You made your way down the hall toward the nurse's station. An older woman in blue scrubs looked up at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile. 

“Can I help you with somethin’, dear?” She asked. 

“Do you mind if I leave my number with you? It’s for the patient down in room 201. I would really appreciate it if you could leave it with him when he gets discharged.”

“Oh, of course, sweetheart. Let me grab a notepad.”

You jotted down your number and left the hospital with tears streaming down your face. Everything was hopeless, completely hopeless. You would never get answers or closure; you’d have to spend however long to accept it and move forward. But that wasn’t good enough. You deserved answers. It was your life you had lost, and everyone else got the pleasure of knowing… everyone except you. 

You were too tired to care about the mess when you arrived home. You walked barefoot through the house, tiptoeing around the broken dishes, not bothered by the thought of stepping on the shards. You were numb; nothing would hurt right now. You had no appetite for dinner, so you settled for a glass of wine; at least the buzz would overlap the throbbing pain in your head. 

Your phone sat on the dining table, untouched. You hadn’t checked it in nearly twenty-four hours and were scared of what you might find. Despite the anger toward your family, you still worried for your dad. It was hard to push aside the emotions weighing down your chest, but you needed to make sure he was okay. 

Taking a long gulp of your wine, you finally checked your phone. 

Seven missed calls from Mom

Ten missed calls from Beth

Two missed calls from Stella

You dialed your mom’s number and waited with trembling hands. 

“Sweetheart! I was so worried about you. Why haven’t you answered me?” Your mom sounded flustered.

“I’ve been busy,” you lied. 

“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day. Dad woke up this morning, and everything was okay, like we hoped. He’s going to have a bit of recovery with his hip, but there were no other issues. His memory is fine, and he’s alert.”

That was the tipping point. 

“I’m glad he can remember everything. I would really hate it if you had to lie to someone again about their life,” you said bitterly. 

The silence was louder than words. 

“Sweetie…” Your mom pleaded.

“I know, Mom. I know you lied. I know about everything, so save it.”

“You have to understand—.”

“I don’t have to understand anything! You don’t get to decide what I think or feel right now. You all chose to lie to me for years!”

“It was what we thought was right,” your mom begged. “We didn’t want to lose you. We—we were all so scared that messing with your memory would make things worse.”

You laughed, your body void of any emotion other than anger. Your words were weapons, and you were ready to aim to kill.

“And what were you planning on doing if I got those memories back?” You questioned. “Were you hoping I’d just carry on with my life without giving a shit? You took two years of my life and kept it a secret! You took everything from me, Mom. You all did.” 

There was no mistaking the sound of her crying through the phone. You pulled your cell phone from your ear, letting the muffled sounds linger in static air. Your name floated through the receiver, and you slowly brought it back to your ear. Your mom's words mumbled together.

“…sorry, sweetie. I’m so—I’m so sorry. We should have told you sooner. We shouldn’t have…”

You tore the phone from your ear again and lifted your wine glass to your lips. The rich-bodied taste paired well with your resentment, the tinge of bitterness coating your tongue and poisoning your words.

“There’s a lot you should have done and said, but it’s too late now, isn’t it?” You raged. “You should have told me the truth the moment I woke up. You should have never let Bennett back into my life, and you should have never kept Joel a secret. I understand now why you all acted so weird around Joel in Boston. I understand why everyone was shoving it down my throat to tell him about the accident. You wanted me to be the one that took the fall when everything connected. I’m sure you’re so happy now that you’re free from all the secrets you’ve been hiding.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” she sobbed. “We all did.”

“Happy?” you repeated. “I’ve been miserable for years. You all knew how Bennett treated me, and you let it happen! You made that decision, and now you have to live with it. You were worried you’d lose me? Well, congrats, Mom, you’ve lost me.”

You ended the call before she could utter another word and returned to your wine glass. Sitting at the dining table, surrounded by unfamiliar ghosts, you drank until the bottle ran empty. 

Light-headed and drunk, you staggered through dark hallways to your room. The world spun around you as you collapsed onto the bed, your body on an endless merry-go-round as you tried to shut your eyes. Even with an entire bottle of wine in your system, you still couldn’t sleep. You watched the ceiling fan rotate for hours, your head spinning in the same cadence. Around and around, your thoughts turned until nausea led you to the bathroom. 

You laid your head on the edge of the toilet seat, exhausted and defeated. You wanted to cry, but the tears never came. You wanted to scream, but you had no voice. All you had was a handful of anger and nowhere to place it. 

It took you three days to finally clean the mess inside your house. Your energy levels ran so low from work and parent-teacher conferences that you would just lay on the couch and stare at the ruined walls. Your fridge was empty, and nothing in your pantry had been touched aside from the aged bottles of wine you kept stored on a dark shelf. You weren’t the type to drink yourself into oblivion, but it had been your only comfort amid the heartbreak. You didn’t sleep much, either, and it began showing. Makeup no longer hid the dark circles sinking in beneath your eyes; you gave up trying to hide it. Your students slowly started to notice the shift in your mood as the week passed; their books were open and ready to read before you could even sit down. It was a nonverbal agreement between them and you; they kept their voices down, and you didn’t lash out. You never wanted to be the teacher who didn’t care about what they learned, but you didn’t even care about yourself right now.

But now it was the last day of conferences, and you had to see the person you hated most—the person who built up and tore down your happiness and trust. 

I love you.

You wished you could love the sound of those words. You wished you could hear them again in a different life and believe them. In whatever memories you lost, you knew Joel meant those words, and you knew you probably meant them, too. And the longer you thought about it, the more your heart shattered. It was all a lie.

The clock was nearing six o'clock when you finished your conference with Georgia and her parents. Of course, she got high accolades and praises, and you carried yourself as best as you could the entire time. With tight smiles and agreeing nods of your head, her family finally shuffled out. 

You tried your hardest to contain the emotions welling inside your chest. There had been nothing but a static numbness rolling through your veins the last several days, but any moment now, Joel would walk through your classroom door and tear off the bandaid, barely keeping your heart together. You sorted through papers on your desk, trying to busy yourself as you waited while cursing yourself for ever deciding to be a teacher. If you hadn't chosen this school, maybe you could have avoided meeting Joel—back then and now. You might have never met if you had chosen a different career path. If you never met, then—

A familiar voice said your name and roused you from your endless ‘what ifs.’ Your head snapped toward the door and saw Joel standing with Sarah at his side. He didn’t need to say anything else; he saw everything written on your face—the anger, the pain, the exhaustion. He saw right through your hard exterior—he always did. And you hated him all over again. 

“Hello, Sarah,” you greeted her with a tight smile. You kept your eyes below Joel’s neck when you greeted him. “Hello, Mr. Miller.”

You didn’t want to spend another second lost in the dark brown of his eyes, wondering about what could have happened if things had been different. You pulled Sarah’s report from your pile of papers and jotted down the list of what to talk about and how quickly you could sum it up. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed something in Joel’s hand, his bruised knuckles squeezing it tight.

Sarah went to one of the desks, readying herself to sit down. You held out a hand to stop her, urging her to remain standing.

You started, “I’ll keep it short and sweet, so I don’t waste any of your time.”

“What happened to your hand?” Joel’s voice radiated around the room, the concerned tone vibrating through your body. 

You glanced at your hand and realized it was red and scabbed with cuts from cleaning the house—you hadn’t been particularly careful or safe when you picked up the broken pieces. You dropped your arms to your sides, keeping your features schooled and replacing any emotions with the professionalism you had mastered through the years. 

“Like I was saying.” You cleared your throat. “Sarah has done great on the units so far this year. She’s among the highest-scoring students in the class and did exceptionally well on our poetry unit. I do not doubt the rest of the year will be even greater academically for her.”

Sarah stood awkwardly between you and Joel, her teeth chewing into her bottom lip. Joel shifted beside her, his hands drawn behind his back, keeping whatever he held a secret. You looked over your paper again, skimming the words that had been pre-written weeks ago. 

“I have no concerns about Sarah or her capabilities in the class, so I think we should end it there,” you said. If this had been any other student, you would have spent more time talking them up and genuinely putting effort into the conference. But you wanted nothing more than to see them both walk out the door and leave.

Joel repeated your name, attempting to capture your attention. It worked, but not to his benefit.

“I am your daughter’s teacher, Mr. Miller,” you snapped. “Please address me correctly.”

You glared at him, finally meeting his eyes. He looked just as awful as you did. The glimmering amber of his eyes had dulled to a dark color you had never seen before, and his patchy beard was far past unkempt, the dark, wiry hairs traveling down his neck. Even his tan skin looked paler than you could recall. 

Good, you thought. You wanted Joel to suffer. 

“Miss Smith,” he tried again, dragging a hand down his face. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

“Unless you have a question about Sarah or the class material, there isn’t anything else to discuss,” you countered, clenching your jaw. 

Joel turned his head toward Sarah, giving her a brief nod. She slid her eyes to you again, their hazel-colored softness filled with concern. Before you could question it, she moved toward the door, leaving you alone with Joel faster than you could register. 

“Sarah!” You called, stomping to the door. 

She was already running down the hallway, curls bouncing around her head. 

Your body muscles tightened and contracted as you stood helplessly in the doorway. Joel’s warmth swarmed around you, even at the healthy distance he maintained. 

“Hey,” Joel said from behind you. 

You glanced back over your shoulder, watching as Joel brought forward the item he had hidden behind his back. It was a book. You recognized it immediately. Romeo and Juliet.

“Look, I just—.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his biceps flexing under the cotton sleeves of his shirt. “I just wanted to bring this to you. It’s yours. I kept it all these years after the accident. I don’t really know why. I mean, I do know why. It’s stupid, but it’s your book, and you deserve it back.”

“Oh.” You blinked up at him, not knowing how to respond.

“Still got all your notes and scribbles,” he sighed, handing it to you. “Used to lay up at night with it, readin’ what you wrote on the sides of the pages after the accident. Y’know, I already knew it was your favorite when I asked you. I just wanted to hear y’talk ‘bout it one more time. Y’used to talk my ear off ‘bout your favorite books.” He laughed at a memory you didn’t know existed. “Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer. Y’have a good day, Miss Smith.”

He placed the book in your hands, his body brushing your shoulder as he walked out the door. Words lodged in your throat, words you didn’t want to say. The anger you were carrying inside you was becoming unbearable, but in the same breath, you hurt for him just the same. 

Joel was long gone when the words finally came out, and you whispered thank you as you held the worn-down book between your hands. 

You half-considered throwing away the book when you got home, your hand hovering over the trash bin with the book grasped between your shaking fingers. There wasn’t an ounce of you that wanted to open it and see your writing. Joel had carried this with him for years, holding onto a secret only he could remember. He had read this play probably a thousand times before he had even asked about it on the soccer fields. The facade of ‘doing research’ was a lie; he only wanted to share a moment of the past with you. A moment you couldn’t remember and a moment he only wanted to relive, even for just a few seconds. And you did it. You gave him hope that his plan would work, never knowing the truth. 

You hated him. But it wasn’t enough hate to drown out the immense suffering of still falling in love. 

Walking to your closet, you found the darkest corner and buried the book deep into the shadows. You’d be ready to flip through the pages one day, but you needed time. 

Sitting back on your heels, you stared at the cuts along your hands and felt absolutely nothing. There was no more anger.

There was nothing.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof. 

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart. 

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep. 

In the morning it’ll be fine. 

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[noemilivv]

Hi 👋,

If you're still taking requests, I absolutely loved the most recent one you did with Lucifer, Adam and Vox proposing and marrying their s/o.

If possible could you do one similar to that but for Husk and Alastor?

If not, it's totally cool and I'm loving your work 😊

hellooo, dw i’m still taking requests haha, yeah i can do that for you!! the first part was undeniably fun to write so obviously i’ll do it again for ya haha

Warnings: None(?)

Alastor Proposal + Wedding Headcanons

Alastor never really knew what love truly felt like, until he met you, from that alone — he knew you were the one

His proposal was simple, but still very gentlemanly, his shadows were his band, playing some of your shared favorite songs, and Alastor stood in a different suit than the one he normally wears, a black version with a red streak instead of the white line that goes down the collar

He stood in the center of your room in the hotel, awaiting for you to get back from work, with a bouquet of spider lilies in his hands and a ring box in his pocket.

When you arrive, he has a soft and gentle smile on his face, in contrast to the big grin he usually shows, he didn’t feel vulnerable or at risk with you, so he could wind down with you

He hands you the bouquet and gets down on one knee, taking your ring out of the box, holding it to you, as his other hand takes yours in his and kisses the back of it

“My dearest and truest love, you have made me feel more alive than I ever have, even in my years on Earth.” He started, his radio affect softer than you’ve ever heard it, it’s unlike him, given he usually has a more cheery tone.

“You have showed me what love truly feels like, what in feels like in here —” He said, putting a hand to his heart, “That being said, would you make me the happiest man in Hell and be my lawfully wedded spouse?”

You and Alastor have a wedding almost immediately, thanks to his magic staff.

The ceremony is like any other, other than the fact your soon-to-be husband has a massive fucking grin on his face that did not falter the whole time, other than when you came down the isle, and it seemed to inch up his face more.

When it came to the kiss, he does turn you both around as he does not enjoy displaying affection infront of others, but he also won’t break tradition, so…

The reception is nowhere near boring, he knows how to have a good time, there’s excitable jazz music that has a good chunk of guests swaying and moving their feet

He also may or may not freak out some family members of yours…but that’s okay!

He also does not wish to be in wedding photos, due to his opinions on modern cameras and tech, but will for you, and either way, he knows his grin fucks up the photos in contrast to your beauty so he doesn’t really see the point tbh — but he’ll most likely make you guys use an old camera for effect

Husk Proposal + Wedding

Headcanons

Husk genuinely did not care to get married, well, he would be fine if you did, but he was content the way you both were, but he knew how much of a romantic you were so…

Quite frankly, he probably had the laziest proposal out of everyone I’ve written for for this, while you guys were laying in bed, bitch asked you if you would ever wanna get married and proceeded to basically chuck the ring box at you.

You and Husk were in your shared bed. It was late, you were just about to doze off for the night, until you heard Husk’s gruff voice pipe up.

“I have a question for ya.” He said, staring at the ceiling with you on his furry chest. “And that is?” you ask, popping your head up in curiosity,

“Would you ever wanna get married?” He asked, looking down at you, a soft and subtle smirked played on his lips. “Oh!- Uh, probably!” You answered, a bit thrown off by the question.

“‘Kay, great.” Husk muttered, plopping the ring box in between you two. “Husk, what the fu-”

Yeah before you could finish he was already asleep 😛

Husk mainly leaves wedding planning to you, not cause he’s a dick, but it’s just not his thing, he will help out when need be though

At the ceremony, Husk is holding back a couple tears, only a few though!

He never saw himself as the sentimental type, and he knows he didn’t really have the desire to do this in the first place, but now? He knows he made the right choice, even if it was at 2 in the morning.

The reception is chill, it’s kinda just sitting around and chatting, and yes there’s a bar, and Husk is pissed he can’t work it.

There’s chill jazz music in the back, but it’s not like Alastor’s where it had people swaying, it was more soothing, and it wasn’t like Adam’s where people were absolutely bopping to music either

You guys still don’t know if you’re having a honeymoon, Husk is still way too tired and way too hungover to make that decision.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

HELP YOU

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: finding Eddie in the shed and trying to comfort him after what happened Warnings: mention of Chrissy's death.

you searched around the shed, pointing your flashlight everywhere you looked, under the table stacked with beer, behind boxes, under the tarp, anywhere, in hopes to find Eddie.

"what are you doing?" you heard Dustin say across the shed, looking back, you frowned when you shined light on Steve poking the tarp in the boat with an oar, ignoring Dustin as he kept stabbing at the boat

"what are you doing?" the Henderson boy repeated, more hushed and confused at the older boy as he kept jabbing harshly

"he might be in here" Steve said with a slight shrug before moving, shuffling down the boat

"so take the tarp off!" Dustin replied

"if you're so brave you take the tarp off!" Steve fought, pausing his movements to look at Dustin briefly before going back

you shook your head at the boys before turning back to where you were looking

you haven't seen your poor boyfriend in what felt like forever and it scared you to know he was out there all alone, probably scared out of his mind. all you could think about since you heard is him, and how worried you are.

so when the boys started bickering again, you tuned them out and kept looking until you heard a few crashed, making you slightly jump and look back, seeing Eddie jump up from inside the boat and launch at Steve, pinning him up against the wall

you made eye contact with Robin and Max before rushing over, wincing at the sound of Dustin yelling out Eddie's name in protest

"EDDIE..STOP!" Dustin screamed, holding his hands out and pushing you all back so you didn't go closer and freak the poor Munson boy into stabbing Steve in the neck as he held a broken beer bottle to his throat

the look of your boyfriend trembling as he looked over made you want to cry, you'd never seen him so..vulnerable before

in all the 9 months you had dated, or the 8 years you've known him, you've never seen him like this, and it broke your heart to think he was scared of you all trying to hurt him or turn him in- or whatever he might of thought

you made eye contact with him but before you could give him a reassuring smile, he looked away, seeming to almost flinch when he saw you

"Eddie! it's me...It's Dustin" the young boy sighed "this is Steve, he's not going to hurt you..right Steve?"

Eddie looked back at Steve, his nostrils flared as Steve slightly nodded his head as he mumbled along

"Steve, how about you drop the oar?" you spoke up finally, wanting nothing more but to make Eddie feel..safer, in any way

Steve dropped the oar before Eddie pressed him harder against the wall, pressing the glass closer to his neck as Steve looked up, groaning

"Hey! he's cool!..he's cool!" Dustin held his hand out cautiously, Steve mumbling in agreement

"what are doing here?" Eddie asked through gritted teeth, almost coming out as a whimper

"we're looking for you, Eddie" you answered, finally finding the courage to speak

"we're here to help" Robin spoke up, stepping slightly forward to stand beside you

"Eddie, these are my Friends, you know Robin..from band" Dustin started

Robin imitated playing an instrument with her torch awkwardly while Dustin introduced Max

"the one who never wants to play D&D"

Max waved with a forced smile

"and you know..Y/n" Dustin pointed to you, but you only kept your eyes on the long haired boy as he looked at you again, the frown never leaving his face.

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, before the boy in front of you spoke again

"Eddie...we're on your side" Dustin pleaded "i swear on my mother! right, guys?"

the room filled with mumbles in agreement before falling silent, watching intently as Eddie stared at Steve, still unsure

a moment goes by before Eddie huffs and lets Steve go, turning away

you all let out a deep sigh in relief before you slowly stepped forward, stopping Dustin and nodded to him as a sign of saying 'let me'

you carefully walked closer to Eddie as he slowly slid down the wall, broken bottle still in his grasp as he looks forward, his bottom lip quivering

"Eddie.." you kneeled down in front of him as he avoided eye contact

"sweetheart.." you whispered as you reached up, wanting to comfort him in any way "we just want to talk"

just as you were just about to touch his hand, he flinches away

to see him shy away from you like that makes your heart ache, it made your stomach drop knowing he doesn't trust you enough to just comfort him in this situation, that he can't find your comfort and leads to shudder at the thought of you touching him.

it was an understatement to say that you cared for the boy- you loved him more than anything.. you would do anything for him, anything for him to understand you were there, by his side, to cherish him. there was no doubt in your mind that he didn't do it. all in all the years you've known him, since 7th grade, he hasn't had a single aggressive bone in his body, and it hurt to see that he didn't know you knew that.

"hey, it's alright. it's ok..." you murmured as you saw Robin approach in the corner of your eye

she kneeled down beside you before speaking up "we wanna know what happened"

Eddie sniffled before turning to the others, shaking his head "you won't believe me"

the room fell silent for a beat before Maz shrugged "try us"

"sweetheart..Eddie..you can trust us...you can trust me" you whispered to him

his eyes fluttered to you as his body began to calm down, the shaking slowing down

"take your time, Eds.." you cooed, trying to be as gentle as you could be with him

-⋆-

"I..I didn't know what to do, so I.." Eddie stuttered

you and the others have sat and heard his story for about 10 minutes now, being patient with him as he paused and took breaths, whimpered in fright, or stuttered to find the words

the others sat about a meter away but refused to Leave Eddie's side when he finally let you touch him, resting a soft hand rest on his knee before you took the broken bottle away from him

"I ran away" he finished, his eyes glassy as he stares at the ground "i left here there"

you gave his knee a gentle reassuring squeeze, making him glance down at you for a glimpse of a second before he shook his head and looked away, his body leaning away from your touch before he reached up and rubbing his forehead before scoffing

"you all think i'm crazy, right?"

over to the others, Dustin shook his head

"no, we don't think you're crazy at a-" the boy started before Eddie cut him off

"don't bullshit me man!, i know how this sounds!" Eddie replied harshly, letting his hand drop and hit his thigh

"we're not bullshitting you" Max butted in

"we believe you, Eds" you stated, slowly reaching up and touching his hand, his fingers slightly shaking as your skin touched his

as much as he was scared, deep down, your warm touch calmed in ever so slightly, it always soothed him, even when you guys were just friends, your touch had always calmed him down when he had a bad day. all he did to feel better was to have you hold him in away way, let him know you were there and he was going to be ok.

you held his hand carefully as you looked up at him from where you sat near his feet, his wide glossy eyes looking down at you

"look, what we're about to tell you might be a little...difficult to take" Dustin started

your boyfriend nodded, blinking his eyes "okay.." he muttered

"you know how people say Hawkins is...cursed?" Dustin asked rhetorically "they aren't...way off"

so the story began, Dustin telling Eddie about the upside down and all the monsters coming back

-⋆-

after a while, Eddie had eased up a bit, finding the feeling of support knowing you had all faced what he had before, although that didn't mean he wasn't scared out of his mind

so as the others decided to give the metalhead a little break from all the information, he sat still, looking down at you as you knelt between his legs, he was still shaken up, too cautious as you found out where he was ok with you touching him

"s-so..you've seen all this..shit before" he said- his breath hitching as his adams apple bobbled

"yeah.." you sighed, looking up at him as you held his hand "a few times.."

"why'd you never tell me?" he scrunched his nose, his eye twitching as you reached up to touch his hair, wanting to run your hands through it like you always did

"well it's nothing we can really openly share, Eds" you smiled sadly at him as you leant up, on your knees, your eye level now at his chest instead of his knee

"you have no idea how worried i've been, Eddie... and I know you're scared, I know you're still confused...but I'm here, ok? we're all here to help you, Sweetheart" you whispered to him as you stroked his cheek, him, surprisingly leaning in to your touch

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry you had to go through this..but you're not alone, Eddie.. ok?" you placed your other hand on his knee as he nodded, looking down at you with a frown, his bottom lip still quivering

you took a moment, taking a deep breath before letting him go. not wanting to overstay your welcome when it came to touching him

"so...y-you don't hate me?" he stammered, his eyes closing and he licked his very dy lips

"oh Eddie...Sweetheart no..no god no, how could I ever hate you?" you leaned up again, softly cupping his cheeks, looking at him as he kept his eyes closed

when he didn't answer you, you carefully leaned closer and placed a light, feathery kiss to his cheek, pulling away when you heard a broken hum escape from his lips

"sorry" you mumbled

he let his eyes flutter open at look at you when you began to lean away from him but he reaching up and let his hand connect to your side ever so slightly, keeping you from moving away from him

"hey, it's ok..i'm right here, I'm not going" you shook your head, keeping still enough from you to let his hand subtly guide you in closer to his body

you watched as his jaw tightened and loosened in your grasp

"it this ok, eds?"

you smiled when you saw a slight nod in response

"I love you, Ed, please don't think i could ever not love you" you placed another light kiss to his forehead, feeling better when you heard the sigh he let out.

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

[dsireland86]

Idk if you've heard the song Guess by Charlie XCX ft. Billie Eilish but i would like to ask for a hc or a fic whichever is easier with any one of the boys you choose inspired by this song

Holy shit! This song.... good lord. Okay, the thoughts I had with this one... yeah. Trying to figure out which one to write this one about was really freaking hard. I had to go with my gut and go with Noah.

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @thefallenangel @fadingintothegrey

Guess

18+ below!! sexual content an language

Noah watched her bend over, showing off that brand new tattoo she got last week; the one with the heart and the ivy. It rested perfectly on her lower back, right above where it dipped down into her pants.

He licked his lips and then wiped them with the back of his hand. Damn. She was hot, and she was all his. Every last piece.

"If you stare at me any harder, Sebastian, I might just disappear."

She bit her lip, grinning as she slid her hand across Noah’s face, tucking it securely behind his neck and pulling him down to kiss him.The kiss was super intense. Maybe it was because Noah was so sexually tense at the moment, wound up tight from going days without being inside her. The band's tight, grueling schedule the past week had been exhausting, leaving her and Noah not a lot of time to spend together.

He wanted her. Badly. And from the feeling of her tongue in his mouth and her sex pressing hard against him, he assumed she wanted him just as much.Noah slid his hand down her backside, cupping her ass cheek and squeezing it.

"Oh, someone is a little handsy," she mumbled against his lips.

"I feel like you have disappeared. It's been days since I've had you," he scowled, squeezing her other ass cheek. Noah's eyes hung low with lust, not even caring if everyone around them noticed.

"Yeah, I know, it's been crazy, hasn't it," she agreed, kissing him again.

"I'm aching to see you naked and feel your skin on mine," Noah confessed, whispering against her ear and making her softly whimper. She chuckled, trying her best to wiggle out of Noah's grasp.

"But I wanna know what you've got going on underneath these jeans first, little rabbit."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" grinning because of her pet name and seeing how much Noah wanted her.

She shivered from the intense look in Noah's eyes, knowing that this side of him was a rare side; the dominant, aggressive, and controlling side. It was never a side that hurt her. Noah would never, ever do that. But it was a side that made her weak and lit the fire under all the little sexual fantasies she had about him.

"Yes, I would like to know," Noah growled, clenching his jaw before catching her in a kiss. He managed to snatch her bottom lip between his teeth, biting and pulling it until he had his tongue in her mouth, and she was consuming him.

"I have an idea," she said, pushing back on Noah's chest to break away from the kiss. "Let's play a game."

"A game," Noah's eyes widened, his response more of a question than an answer.

"Yeah. If you can guess what kind of underwear I'm wearing then I'll do everything in my power to convince Matt that you and I need a night alone."

Noah squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck. What in god's name are you trying to do to me," he groaned, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her into him and grabbing her chin. "Especially before a show."

That feisty look in her eyes always made Noah want to kiss her, but she stopped him before he could.

"Each time you guess, you get a kiss. But each time you guess wrong, mmm," she hummed, smiling.

"What?"

"Let's just say, there's something in it for the both of us. Deal?"

Noah curled his hand around the back of her neck and pressed his forehead against hers. "Deal," Noah leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.

She carried another box of cables to the stage, sitting it down in front of Matt, before going back to get another one. Noah reached over and pinched her bottom, making her squeal.

"Pink. You're wearing the pink cotton ones," he guessed, feeling confident.

"Nope, try again," she said, kissing him quickly before walking away without looking back.

After bringing up mic stands and handing them to Jolly, she grabbed her bottle of water, chugging its contents before sitting down. Noah towered over her, standing a little too close to her face.

"Really?"

"What?" Noah grinned down at her.

"It's the see-through pair, isn't it?"

He swallowed hard, trailing his long fingers over her jaw and using his thumb to pull at her bottom lip. From where she was sitting, she got a perfect view of watching Noah's cock grow hard, twitching slightly when she licked her lips. She clenched her thighs together, trying her hardest to suppress the aroused feeling rushing through her at wanting just a taste of him. But not yet. The game was just getting started. Slowly she shook her head, giving him a lopsided grin.

"Nope."

"Fuck!" Noah grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

She stood up, purposely brushing her hand across his erection, grinning at the strong hiss that escaped him

"Try again," placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Rehearsals. Five hour rehearsals. All because the sound was off, making Matt pissed and grumpy. Noah took a moment, going to the green room to rest.

He walked in to find her asleep on the sofa, looking warm and inviting. He was dying to find out what kind of underwear she was hiding from him, what exactly she had going down there. Walking up to her and kneeling down, Noah ran his huge hands lightly up her thighs, loving the way she tossed and wiggled in her sleep at his touch. The black leggings she wore fit her body perfectly in the same way that her sex fit his cock perfectly, sleek and tight. His eyes examined her body, steadily taking his time to trace the outline of her hips and curves that connected to her sweet spot in the center. Using his finger, Noah trailed along the black fabric, down into the dips between her pussy and her thighs, loving the slight whimper she gave him.

Parting her legs so he could get closer to her, he lowered his body until his face was right up against her center. Lightly, he dragged his nose up her covered folds, letting his lips trail behind them and his warm breath lingering in their wake. It made her squirm and slightly arch her back, a sign that she wanted more.

"I know you're not asleep, little rabbit, but we're going to pretend like you are. Keep your eyes closed," he ordered," or I won't let you cum for a week."

"But this is my game," she whined, running her hands through Noah's soft, thick hair. Raising his head, and took a deep breath and exhaled it quickly, falling completely into her touch.

"Fuck your game," Noah hissed. "I'm too sexually frustrated by you to play it anymore."

"Take one more guess," she demanded, eyes still closed and head back against the couch.

"Fine. It's easy. You're wearing the pretty laced thong I bought you.

Her eyes popped open and she looked up at Noah.

"I promise I didn't look. With you laying like this, I can see the simple outline. I should have realized it earlier when I had my hands on your ass." She shook her head, sighing as she laid her head back. “But you looked. So now it looks like you’re not allowed to cum for a week.”

"I can't with you Noah. I just can't,” she laughed, shaking her head. “You know very well you couldn’t handle me not coming for a week. I like it too much. It does something for your ego and you know it.”

“Fuck me, how…” Noah was at a loss for words. She was right and he knew it. “Whatever,” he said, huffing a laugh.

Lifting her shirt, Noah licked the skin of her belly, running his hand over it and thinking about what it would be like to know there was a baby growing in there.

"You would look hot as fuck with my baby inside you," Noah muttered, kissing her skin as he made his was south of her body. "Maybe one day." Her acknowledgement of his fantasy made his heart flutter. "Maybe."

Hooking his fingers around the waistband of her leggings, he tugged them down her legs, removing them fully. The white laced thong that barely covered her pussy laid before his eyes, making him feel proud of how much he really knew about his girlfriend. He loved being right, just like she said. Noah glided one long finger along her clit, making her quietly moan, hypnotizing her with the movement of it sliding up and down slowly. His fingertip alone sent shockwaves through her entire body, causing her to arch her back a little more for friction.

"Fuck, Noah, please," she whined, rolling her head from side to side.

"Oh, little rabbit, what's wrong?" he teased her in a taunting voice.

Noah's lips found the spot right about her pelvic bone, kissing it and dragged his fingers lightly across it. A loud moan erupted from her, making him smile.

"There it is. That's the volume I want to hear you at."

His mouth trailed to her thong where he took the lace between his teeth and sucked it before removing them. Like liquid, Noah moved down her body, pulling her thong all the way down her legs until they were off. He stood up, towering over her, looking down to see her hands thrown over her face, making him chuckle.

"Too much, little rabbit?" he asked, hands on her knees as he fully parted her legs revealing her very pink, very wet cunt. Her sudden gasp at being exposed had him stroking his swollen length and his jaws watering from wanting to bury his face directly in the soaking wet mess he saw.

"It's mine, right?" Noah asked her, respectfully. "I can bite it, lick it, spit on it; turn you all out if I want to?"

"Do you want to do all that to me?"

Noah smiled. "You goddamn right I do, baby. I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I want to show. So can I? Can I go down on you and fuck your pussy until you cum."

Her stomach turned with excitement and in anticipation. "Yes," she said softly and swallowing hard, hardly able to hold out any longer. Noah knelt back down and immediately began lapping up her juices, locking his large hands onto her thighs.

"Holy shit, Noah, oh god," cried, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Louder, baby," he mumbled against her pussy as he plunged his tongue into her center, getting all up in it.

"Noah," she panted, gripping his hair.

"Fuck! You taste so fucking delicious," he praised, running his tongue up her folds and finding her clit. He took the little bud between his teeth, sucking it before nipping it and making her scream.

"Yeah, that's it, pretty girl, let them hear you," Noah praised some more, squeezing and stroking his very hard cocked pressed tightly against the front of his pants.

Her needy moans grew louder the moment Noah slipped a finger in her, fucking her slowly at first. He watched her, observed her desire turning into pleasure as he inserted a second finger, thrusting deeper into her until he hit her most sensitive spot. Her body jerked, small trembles running through her body as Noah pressed his mouth between her legs again. His wet kisses along the inside of her thighs turned into small nips when he sucked her skin and left large purple bruises behind as he made his way back to her pussy.

Removing his fingers, Noah teased her sensitive clit with his tongue, running circles around it, while she moaned and whimpered. Her slight bucks into his mouth made his cock twitch each time, making his arousal build up even faster.

"Fuck, Noah, don't stop I'm almost there," she panted, tugging at his hair again.

Noah lifted his head and pulled his fingers out, earning him a loud whine of protest. Without a second thought, he spread her lips and spit into her center, grunting and glowering with so much sexual frustration. His hair was all in his face, some sticking the sweat covering his forehead.

"Dammit Noah, fuck baby, I need you," she whined, panting like an animal in heat, beckoning him to her.

Slamming his fingers back inside her, Noah picked up speed, groaning at the sounds of his spit mixed with her precum coating his fingers that were fucking her pussy.

"You're tightening, baby, clenching around my fingers. Fuck, yeah, that's it baby, ride my hand, grind against. Make yourself cum for me.” "I wanna come in your mouth," she said, wrapping her hand around his wrist. He gave her a thrilling smile, pulling his fingers out of her and bringing them to his mouth. He licked her off them before bringing them to hers.

"Open," he ordered. She did, making Noah feel like he was about to cum in his pants, watching her suck herself off his fingers, twirling her tongue around them.

"God, fucking," Noah groaned, exhaling sharply.

It was only a few seconds until she let out a wrenching moan, and Noah felt her come apart in his mouth. It made so much precum spill from his swollen, aching cock, soaking his briefs.

Noah quickly undid his pants and slipped out of them, revealing his long erection.

"Jesus, Noah," she breathed.

"It's all from you, Princess. You make me so fucking hard all the time, all I can think about is being inside you."

He picked her up like it was nothing, sitting down in her place while positioning her on his lap. Grabbing his cock, she pumped him a few times, swirling more precum around, and slipped herself over him, sinking all the way down instantly.

"Holy fuck," Noah moaned as she began to ride him. Her hands found his shoulders and his hands found her waist. He pulled her back and forth while she grinded her cunt against him, crying out his name the moment he hit her cervix.

"Noah, god you feel so fucking good inside me."

Noah smiled big, lifting her shirt and removing it then unclasping her bra to reveal her breast; Noah's favorite part. He buried his face in between them before taking one his mouth. He sucked, pulled, and bit her nipple like it was his favorite lollipop, pulling more loud moans and quiet screams. Looking down, he watched as his cock, thick and coated with the echoes of her orgasm, slid in and out of her. She picked up her pace, fucking him fast and harder, earning her filthy words of praise.

"I love it when you fuck me like a dirty slut, you know that," Noah confessed, griping her hips tightly, fingers digging into her flesh. Her repetitive, whimpers and slight screams filled the room.

"If you want me to be your slut Noah, all you have to do is fuck me from behind."

Noah's mouth fell open.

With his heart beat racing, Noah didn't think twice before pushing her off of him and telling her to get on the floor on her hands and knees.

"God, you want to be my fucking slut, baby? Do you?"

She nodded, looking over her shoulder.

"Good, cause I wanna fuck you like one, like the filthy fucking whore that you are for me," he growled, clenching his teeth.

Noah shoved her face to the floor, hand locked behind her neck to hold her down. With his other hand, he smacked her ass, before lifting her up and wasting no time and slamming his cock into her.

Crying out at the sudden invasion, she dug her nails into the rug beneath her as Noah held on tightly to her and ruthlessly began fucking her at a fast past. Each time she caught her breath, another hard thrust knocked it out of her lungs, sending her mind spiraling.

Nothing was heard but moans, cries, and the slap of flesh against flesh.

"God dammit, Princess, look at you taking me. Pounding into you soft pussy, fucking you raw. I love you. I love that you're a dirty slut! " Noah growled as his thrusts grew sloppier.

"Your sweet cunt feels so fucking good clenching around me baby girl. Scream for me. Make me cum. Make me cum hard," he begged.

The pressure and the sensitivity was all too much to handle anymore. Cumming hard for Noah again, her muffled screams echoed through the green room. Noah shook, his release keeping him right on the edge.

"Fuck me hard, Noah," she begged, know exactly what he needed to get off.

"Say it again," he panted.

"Harder Noah," she whined, "fuck me harder."

That last phrase was all it took. Noah pulled out quickly and released his warm cum all over the bottom of her back and ass. He loved watching it drip off and down her legs.

"Motherfucker! Fuck!" he cried, shuttering as he milked himself, pulling every last bit of cum from his dick.

Both of them breathless, sweaty, sticky, and hot, they took a moment to catch their breath and regain composure. "I think," Noah said, trailing his fingers down her back as she laid there resting, "that we should play this "Guess" game more often. You haven't fucked me like that in a while," he said laying a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Yeah, I know," she said regretfully. "Hey, I get it, being on tour and all. It's okay," Noah assured her. He caressed her cheek sweetly, laying a kiss on her shoulder. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I wasn't too rough?" Noah's concern melted her heart. She scooted closer to him lying close to his chest for a moment.

"No, my love, you didn't hurt me." "Okay, good." Noah sighed in relief, caressing the back of her hair. "Because I never want to do that. I never want to intentionally hurt you."

She looked up at him and he lowered his face to hers, kissing her softly and sweetly.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[danopdf]

Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader Headcanons

Notes: Welcome to my Ron X reader headcanons! It goes through everything from Toccoa - post war! Word Count: 13,768

this is based off the fictional character(s) portrayed by the actor(s) in the show band of brothers, with no disrespect toward the real life veterans.

Warnings: Usual Band of Brothers and war stuff, swearing, once you get to the smut part there's too many things to give warnings for (it's not nasty just super smutty and a lil' kinky) Enjoy :D <3

============

TOCCOA / NORMANDY

For the first bit you're at Toccoa you think that he HATES you because he’s constantly glaring at you the whole time from afar

It gets to a point where you start getting really nervous whenever you catch him staring, so none of the guys ever leave you completely alone just so they know you’re safe, and because, “we don’t know the guy, he could be crazy.” “Donny, we signed up to jump out of planes, we’re all crazy.”

He leaves anonymous gifts for you on your cot

Nothing fancy, just something like an extra pair of socks when you get to England, or one day after you’re being teased by Don, Muck, and Penkalla and they accidentally rip the binding of your book there’s a fresh brand new copy packaged neatly on your pillow

All of the boys of course go ‘OOOOOOOOoooOOOOOoo” every time something appears just to tease you

all through the second leg of training in England, he’s still staring at you but now it’s not just from across the training area, it’s also from across the pub, and the meeting rooms, and the mess hall

“If he keeps looking at me I’m gonna start yelling at him-”

“Maybe don’t do that while he’s at the range.”

everybody notices to the point of constantly teasing you about it

“y/n you may wanna ask Doc to check your back out from all of the knives Speirs is glaring into it-“

“MUCK-!”

You notice the stares are starting to happen less and less as it gets closer to D-Day

You honestly get kinda lonely without him hovering constantly, to the point where the rest of the guys start to notice you looking around for him

“Looking ‘round for your guardian angel y/n?”

“Toye I swear to god!”

The day that you were supposed to drop into Normandy comes and gets cancelled, and you’re too anxious to sleep and decide to slip out and go for a walk to clear your head

You’re wandering around the empty streets taking it all in because for all you know, this may be your last night on Earth and goddamn it if you can’t get hammered you’re gonna take a nice fucking walk

You’re 20 minutes into your walk along a few of the random streets and just enjoying a final night of calm, when you see a figure across the street from you smoking

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and notice who it is (it’s Ron obv), and once you do you just pause because for the first time, you’re looking at him before he’s looking at you

When he looks up from lighting his cigarette his eyes go wide and he takes a small step back because you’re looking at him, ‘oh god why are they looking at me like that-’

You just give him a small smile and raise your hand in a wave

He just stares back at you until you turn and walk away, still smiling but just thinking ‘Oh god why did I wave at him? You looked like an idiot in front of Speirs nice going-’

D-Day arrives and you’re sitting with the rest of Easy getting your final mail call before you jump and you’re just pacing waiting and mildly freaking out

By this point, you’ve gotten so much comfort from being able to look around and find Ron to ground you that before you drop your head is on a constant swivel trying to find his eyes in the crowds of soldiers

You finally find them and when he looks at you he can see just how scared you actually are, (as much as you try to hide it)

Ron decided to make his way over to you because ‘they’re scared, I should go comfort them- that’s what you do when you like someone right?’

He walks right up to the small group you’re standing next to and they go completely silent as he does, but he just walks right past them up to you and you’re terrified because he’s never been this close to you before you’ve only seen him from across a room

You both just stand there staring at each other for a moment before Ron says “I’ll see you down there. Good luck.”

You’re just standing there trying to process just how close he is to you finally, and are trying to take in all his features and the sound of his voice because, ‘If I'm going to die the final thing I want to see is a good looking man.’

One of the boys has to cough really loudly to get you to snap back to reality

“Oh-! Yes- Yes Sir, good luck to you too…I hope to see you down there…under different circumstances than I usually see people…” You try and joke, half gesturing to the white medic band across your right bicep

You’re laughing a little awkwardly because ‘God he is good looking up close’ and he’s not laughing because of course he’s not, but he does have the absolute smallest quirk of the corner of his mouth, indicating that he heard your joke at all

One of the boys from the group just leans to another and goes “God that was bad, he’s gonna shoot them the second we get down there-”

You’re all loading up into the planes, and you stop on the last ring of the ladder to take a final look at allied Europe and you catch Speirs getting into his plane across the tarmac

He turns his head and for the second time he makes eye contact with you, rather than the other way around. He just nods and climbs in, hoping that he sees you down there, alive.

Once D-Day hits and rumors start about him killing that group of POWs everyone is like ‘fuck that’ and stays clear of him even more than usual

You hear the rumours and get a little anxious about seeing him again because you don’t really know anything about him, just that he’s handsome and a bit of a badass

For a while you only see him out of the corner of your eye, while you’re either waiting with Easy or while rushing by him trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out on a stretcher

Then the day comes when you have your second conversation and you start to realise that he’s just another man trying to get through this, and that maybe he’s not so bad

it happens when Tab gets stabbed and (as one of the medics for Easy) Joe Liebgott calls for you to come help Tab

your second real “conversation” is you turning to Speirs and demanding his compress bandages to stop the bleeding from his 3 wounds

he’s not used to being given orders, he’s a CO for God's sake, but when you do it he listens like they’re coming straight from the president himself

he’s always just admired from afar (except for your single previous conversation at the airfield), but he’s listening to you like ‘yes ma’am/sir whatever you say’ he is WHIPPED

you grab his hand and press it onto one of the wounds to compress it and his mind just stops for a second, because your hand is so warm and soft and the way you’re talking to Tab telling him that he’s “gonna be okay, don’t you worry Tab, I gotcha’” makes him feel something new

you leave with Tab to take him to the med station behind the line and Ron feels his heart tug at the sight of you walking away from him, (even if it is to help someone)

you come back from the aid station that you brought Tab to about 2 days later, and in those two days Ron is constantly hovering around Easy, whenever he gets a chance to see if you’re back yet

Easy is just like side eyeing him every time he comes over thinking ‘oh god he’s gonna kill us, he’s stalking his prey’

but once you get back and he sees that you’re okay, (just covered in a little more blood from helping at the aid station) he can breathe again and goes back to Dog Company like nothing happened

After a few days of being behind the lines you start to receive a few gifts

Definitely not as many as before you dropped but one every week or so

One day you get handed a letter from a runner and it has nothing it but a simple watch with a leather strap, no note or anything, but it’s convenient because your watch got broken during your last trench raid and have been in need of a new one

he has to suppress a smile each time he catches you checking the watch

Speirs gets a pretty nasty cut on his hand during a raid and instead of being concerned he’s decided it’s his chance to have another conversation with you, so instead of going to his own company's medics he makes a beeline straight for you.

you’re standing with a group of Easy men and he just comes walking right up to you being all like “y/n.” “o-oh! yes Sir- " "need your help.” and then he just wanders away knowing you’ll follow him

the boys you’re standing with just give you a look like you’re a dead man walking. George legit says “it’s been an honour serving with you” like you’re about to die (and honestly you’re so nervous you may just as well)

walks into the makeshift aid station where Gene is working on the shrapnel in Winters leg and Ron just leans against a table and hold his hand out to you, the blood is steadily flowing out of the cut and your eyes go wide and you start to freak out because “Sir this is a serious cut you should have gone to someone sooner! Where's your company medic? They could have helped you faster than coming to me!”

he just stands there staring at you with this blank expression but his eyes are so soft when he looks at you fussing over his cut.

(Gene and Winters are off to the side just giving each other a look, ever the observant ones)

you tell him his hand needs stitches but only a few. He's not been listening to you for the past 20 minutes while you stop the bleeding and disinfect his cut, he’s just staring at you and the way you look in the dirty window light.

he only snaps back when the stitching needle first threads through his skin and he takes a sharp breath in because he’s so caught off guard

your head snaps up to him when he hisses and you look so sad that you’ve hurt him

“Sorry Sir, I didn’t mean t’ hurt you, but we gotta get this closed up.”

your hand that is holding his steady moves slightly so you can run your thumb along his palm to sooth him

his whole arm is tingling when you touch him so gently, completely forgetting about you stitching his gash up until you pull your hand back like “alright Sir, you’re good to go. be sure to keep it clean, and in about a week your company medic can take those out for you.”

Just grunts and nods a thanks to you as he walks out the door.

Gene laughs a little and you turn to him all “what? what's it?” “nothin’…” “what do you mean ‘nothing’!” “just funny is all…you’re good to go Sir.” Gene just drops the conversation after that and leaves you spiralling as to what he meant by ‘nothin’’

when you make your way back to the group you were hanging out with, Malarkey just starts yelling “they’re alive!!! you made it, you stayed into the jaws of death and lived to tell the tale!!!”

You all laugh and the guys continue to tease you and you’re just standing there sputtering out excuses and blushing. Ron is just watching from afar through a cloud of smoke and his mouth tilts up just the slightest

You don’t have many conversations with him, but you both try and subtly go out of you ways to be near each other

Even the men start to notice that whenever Speirs has a moment of freetime he’s lingering around Easy or the aid station

You tend to walk around together a lot, (he’s always waiting outside the aid station for you after a long shift), it’s either you both walking in silence or you talking while he smokes

Rarely does he ever talk on your walks and it’s even rarer that it’s about his life outside of the war

The one or two times he slips up and tell you something about himself you feel so warm and hold that so close to your heart that you start a small list of facts about him in your notebook

Nothing huge just small things like, “like peonies”, “got a really bad haircut when he was 10 that he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from”

Ron wants to know everything about you and loves to hear you talk

He also starts a list of facts about you (that you both compare much later in the war)

(After a long while of knowing each other the lists have certain things crossed off like, “favourite colour is green the blue of the lake in his hometown”, and “their favourite song is ‘everybody loves my baby’ ‘sweethearts holiday”)

one day a book you were just talking to Webster about appears at the top of your pack, and sure it’s a little beaten and battered but you like it nonetheless, and all the guys start losing their minds because “WE’RE IN A WAR ZONE AND HE'S FINDING TIME TO GO BOOK SHOPPING FOR YOU???”

At this point you realise that you actually start to like-like him

You spend so much time together that the boys start poking fun at you and the officers start making some subtle remarks at Speirs (looking at you nix and Harry)

Everyone gets taken off the line and has a break pass in Aldbourne and it’s there that Speirs decided that now is the time to make some sort of move on you

Ron is picking you up from a long shift at the aid station with Gene and you look practically dead on your feet as you walk out, your hair is a mess, there’s blood on your clothes and under your nails and you’re pretty sure there may be vomit on your boots but to him you look like an angel with the light from the aid station coming from behind you giving you a halo

You walk up to him and give him a tired smile, already used to the routine of him walking you back to where you’re being billeted in, when he just blurts out

“Will you go dancing with me?"

You freeze, staring into his eyes (which are full of fear, although you’d never tell anyone that) and break out into a huge grin

“yeah…yeah I’d love to go dancing with you.”

Ron lets out the biggest sigh of relief you’ve ever heard and you gently slip your hand into his as he starts to walk

You just have the biggest grin on your face as he drops you off at your door and says “so, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”, “I’ll be waiting.”

This man is at your door 10 minutes early just pacing trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door, and you’re just watching him pace giggling to yourself because this man will jump out of a plane and kill Germans and show no fear, but he gets scared picking someone up for a dance

He finally knocks 2 minutes before he said he would be there and you rush to the door, pulling it open and freezing

Because good god he is in his dress uniform, clean shaven, hair neatly done and he is beautiful

You both stand there looking each other up and down for a few moments, taking the other in, since you’ve never seen each other cleaned up in your dress uniforms before

“Hi-” “You look-”

He takes (steals) one of the jeeps from the base to take you out to a small dance hall that’s just far enough out of the way that none of the regular enlisted men can get to it without a vehicle (perks of being a scary officer), so it’s you, a very small handful of other officers and the locals

This boy can DANCE

I fully believe that he would dance with his sisters and mother and grandmother when he was younger (in the way that you force your youngers to play games with you when you’re kids)

He’s also strong (HIS ARMS IN HIS DRESS UNIFORM ARE MMMMM-) so he can swing and spin you around like nobody’ business

This boy is smiling and laughing like there’s not a single thing wrong in the world, because when you’re in his arms that’s how everything feels

You both drink quite a bit and get rather giggly

You spend that last half of your night tucked together at the back of the hall in a booth, nursing lukewarm beers with your legs thrown over his and just whispering and giggling with each other

He is running his fingers up and down your leg!!!! He’s not doing it as any form of proposition, he’s doing it because he genuinely loves to just touch you and finds so much comfort in it

You’re both just talking and telling each other about yourselves and what your lives are like/what you want them to be after the war is over, (“If I knew all it took to get to know you was a few drinks, I would have stolen Nix’ secret stash.”)

You’re just constantly leaning closer and closer to each other throughout the night, to the point that your lips are basically brushing every time you speak

At the end of the night he drops you off at your house (he spins and waltzes you up to your door. Yes he’s tipsy.), and you lean in and give him a kiss, just a quick peck before rushing out a “Good night, I had a wonderful time!” and running through the door

You peek out the window to see him leave but he’s just standing there for a second, in a slightly tipsy daze because, you just kissed him, and he’s pretty sure his heart stopped

The next morning you wake up with a mild hangover and memories of an incredible night

You somehow manage to pull yourself out of bed, strip off the last of your dress uniform from last night and get yourself down to the mess hall in your OD’s

The second you have your food and walk over to Easy the boys lose their minds and are cheering and giving you pats on the back

You’re so confused because “what’s all this for? The war end while I was asleep?”

“Heard you had a little date last night with a certain officer-?”

Your head snaps over to Gene because he was the only other one at the aid station when Ron asked you out

“GENE-!” who looks smug as fuck as you start throwing wadded up napkins at him

Ron is watching from the officers table, smirking at how flushed you become from all the teasing

Nixon just leans over and goes, “You chose a good one Sparky. Those boys might be scared of you, but if you break their heart, they’ll break your fucking neck.”

I don’t think that you put a label on what you are, at least not for a long while since you’re both so scared of losing the other and in war nothing is guaranteed

You both just know that if you need someone to talk to or just are in need of some comfort you go to each other

 You start to seek each other out unconsciously, eyes immediately searching for each other in every room and in every group after every mission

If someone is looking for one of you they know to look for the other because you’re never far behind each other

There’s a joke going around within Easy that you can’t ‘sleep without your teddy bear’ because you can’t sleep very well without Speirs

Sleeping cuddled up with Speirs in a pile of hay, leaves you better rested than sleeping alone on a real bed

You never tell each other you love one another until you go on leave in Paris, up until then you just say, “Come back to me.” “I will. Promise."

And the second you get back from anywhere you make a b-line for each other and say, “You came back to me.” “I promised, didn’t I?”

(You tell him that you love him first though. He doesn’t even hesitate to say it back.)

I don’t think that y’all kiss a lot just because Speirs is a very reserved person with a reputation to keep up

He does love to drag you behind buildings, away from prying eyes to kiss you or make out with you (he LOVES to make out with you against a wall where you can both just keep pushing against each other- we’ll get to this later, this man makes me have many thoughts)

You and Ron are sitting at the back of the room, just holding hands and playing with each others fingers, half watching the movie when some officer comes bursting through the doors turning on all the lights, shutting off the movie and yelling about moving back out

Ron and you look at each other because, “I didn’t buy a scarf in Paris."

BASTOGNE

At first you two are excited because you can have secret foxhole rendezvous, within a week you’re both like, ‘I am freezing and emotionally distraught, do not touch me’

The only person who bring you any comfort when you can’t be near Ron is Gene, but nobody wants to lose both their medics in one blast so you’re either in a foxhole by yourself or a little bit off the front and sitting with Joe Liebgott and/or George Luz

Everytime Ron comes by the foxhole the guys are still scared of him so they tend to stay silent while the two of you talk or they just completely dip and leave the two of you alone

(they realise how little time the two of you get to spend together now that you’re both: a) on the front line again, and b)meant to be on full alert to watch for any stragglers trying to force their way through)

The guys are still weary that you’re with Ron (in what sorta way you’re together the guys still aren’t 100% sure still), but I think that seeing the way he treats you in Bastogne changes that

He’s constantly making rounds, and “mysteriously” ending up at your foxhole

(he blames it on how sparse the line is but everybody knows that’s a lie because that man knows where everything is at all times)

You both don’t talk a lot during Bastogne, finding more comfort in physical closeness and sharing what little warmth you both have with each other

You’re both freezing but somehow Ron never seems to shiver, like he can just will his body not to, whereas you’re just shaking like a leaf as he hold you

On Christmas you’re huddled in your foxhole with Joe and George, and Winters comes crunching through the snow towards you

Being the nicest man ever he just crouches down and tell you

“Go.”

“‘Scuse me Sir?”

“Go spend Christmas with Sparky.”

You’re out of the foxhole the second he says ‘Christmas’ with a quick “Thank you Sir-really thank you!” over your shoulder as you’re moving as fast as your frozen legs can carry you

Plopping into his foxhole with your blanket and he’s startled for a second before smiling at you and in just the absolute softest voice

“Hey sweetheart, Merry Christmas.” with the sweetest smile that warms you from the inside out

He got (stole) a gift for you. It’s a non-army-issued scarf that’s your favourite colour.

You gave him a photo of the two of you that you’ve been secretly holding onto since you got them developed 

It’s a photo of the two of you getting ready to have the actual photo of the two of you in your dress uniforms taken, but it's just him looking down at you as you fix his tie

He won’t admit it but he tears up a little when he sees it, because you’ve been getting the shit bombed out of you every day, you’re freezing to death, you don’t have enough of anything and everybody is so tired, but this photo is so domestic and sweet, and it reminds him of when you were anywhere but here and he just loves you so much he can’t fucking stand it

New years eve comes around and you’re in your shared foxhole with Liebgott and about 2 minutes before midnight Ron comes to do “his rounds” and “make sure everybody’s dug in properly”

(at this point everybody knows that if Ron is seen around Easy he’ll say it’s to check on everybody, but they all know he just wants to see you and make sure you’re okay)

He kneels down next to you and Joe nudges you awake

You startle upright and when you realise nobody is hurt you look and see Ron next to where you were sleeping

“Ron!” you’re so sleepy but so excited to see him for the first time since Christmas day, that his heart just about bursts

Just just motions you to follow him which you happily do, he’s a few paces ahead of you and you job a little to catch up to him and slip your freezing fingers into his fingerless glove covered ones

He leads you a little ways away from the other foxholes and behind a few trees (not so far that you couldn’t reach one if you started getting bombed again but here they won’t hear whatever you both say)

“What’s up Ronnie?”

He just holds a finger up for you to wait, after about 20 seconds of silence he whispers

“3…2…1” and gently cradles your face and kisses you so sweetly that you can’t help but sigh into it

It honestly turns into a light makeout before you pull back from him

“Wha-...what was that for? Not that I’m complaining but-”

“Happy new year sweetheart.”

You just beam at him because you may not have remembered but he did (specifically so that he could have an excuse to celebrate and make out with you)

“Happy new year honey.”

The day to take Foy comes finally and you’re sent out onto the field with the boys

You and Gene are not too far away from each other just incase the other needs any assistance

Ron is having the words day of his life, because he’s just stood up on that hill watching the battle take place, and he can’t do anything to help you

You’re hiding behind that building with Lipton when you hear someone calling for a medic on the other side of the street

Ron just got the order to take over and he’s about to start running when he sees you go down

you stuck your head around the corner to get a better look at who was yelling and you get *ping!*’d by a bullet, right off the side of your helmet, throwing you back onto the snow

Ron takes of running through the field because ‘oh god they’ve been hit’ and he needs to get this situation under control because god knows Dike isn’t going to

he takes over for Dike and starts giving out orders before running to “talk to carwood” (check if you’re alive)

he sees you sitting up against the brick wall partially covered by Randleman’s arm comforting the best he can in this situation you as you shake -because, sure you may have been through various war zones in the past year and a bit, but everybody knows that you don’t kill medics- and he can finally breathe a sigh of relief as he realises you’re not hurt just extremely shaken at the close call

When Carwood tells him they need to link up with I company he doesn’t hesitate to start running again, you lean forward trying to grab at his jacket yelling for him to come back

he ignores you, knowing that if he looked back at your terrified face he wouldn’t be able to move forward

Carwood leans over to tell you that he’s made it to I company, but you’re just sitting there shaking because “oh god he’s gonna die, he’s gonna fucking die- Lip why would you tell him that? You know how he is!”

When Lip peaks his head back around the building he sees Ron running back to you and decided against telling you because he knows that’ll just make you worse

the second Ron makes it back to you, you're pounding against his chest with closed fists and yelling at him through tears that he’s “-an asshole! what the fuck were you thinking?! what if you got hit- i can’t fucking stand you!”

Ron isn’t hurt because he knew that was going to terrify you but he had to do it

He’s not even paying attention to you tbh, he’s talking to Lip because he needs to get you safe first, reunions are for after the battle is done

Once the battle is officially over you’re all sitting about, most of the men sitting on the tank in the centre of town, singing and being filmed by the camera men.

you’re standing partially off to the side next to George, practically ignoring Ron -who is lingering nearby talking to Winters- giving you glances every few seconds

He knows you have every right to be frustrated and angry with him because he put his life at risk multiple times without thinking of the consequences other than he ‘needs to end this gotta make sure you’re safe’, but that doesn’t mean that it hurts any less

suddenly a shot rings out from the attic of one of the destroyed houses and a bullet whizzes right by you, everybody scatters, George grabs you and pull you behind the building with Shifty

you’re completely frozen in George’s grip, terrified that you almost got shot again

And “Jesus Christ, don’t they know you’re not supposed to shoot medics, they’ve got a fucking armband for a reason” from George behind you who has an iron grip on your arms

waiting a few moments after Shifty took the shot people nervously start walking back onto the street, but Ron makes a beeline for where George is still gripping onto you (explaining that he “can’t lose another friend he just can’t”)

Ron just grabs you and pulls you into him, you tuck your head right between his shoulder and jaw, your cold nose against his neck causing him to shiver

he just holds you and you hold him

cut to: night in the church and you’re finally warm and able to shed some layers since you’re no longer freezing to death

Ron walks up to you, no jacket on just his sweater with the army-issued suspenders hanging around his waist (‘he looks like such husband material- now is not the time you’re supposed to be mad at him!!!’)

“Can I speak to you…in private…” he leads you through the church to one of the back rooms and closes the door so you can speak freely

You both just stand there staring at each other, both being too stubborn to apologise first

You’re just staring at him in the candlelight for a moment, taking in the way the light flickers off his features and his eyes and you just burst into tears, bringing your hands up to over your face

Ron is so startled it takes a moment for his brain to reboot and realise ‘holy shit they’re crying’ and scoop you into his arms

He rubs the back of your head and you just weep into his chest, crying out run-on sentences like “I’m sorry i was hitting you I was so mad at you- why the fuck would you do that-” as he tries to comfort you between your sobs, “I’m sorry-” “What if you had gotten hit, I couldn’t have gotten to you, I would have just had to watch-” “I’m so sorry” “I don’t hate you I promise, I’m sorry I was so mad-”

Ron just stands there rubbing over your head and back, rocking you in his arms as he lets you cry about everything that’s happened

Once you settle down a little bit so now you’re just hiccupping and the last few tears falling down your cheeks Ron just whispers into the crown of your head “I thought I lost you…”

You pull back a little and tilt your head up to look at him “...what do you mean? Just because you scared the shit outta me doesn’t mean I’m gonna leav-”

“No when you- I saw you get hi-” He closes his eyes to try and calm himself, just imagining what had happened to you and what he thought happened to you brings him to tears, “I saw you fall and lay there and I thought I just watched the love of my life die in front of me-”

“Ron-Ron please look at me…” He has to will his eyes open, ‘I’m here, I’m okay I promise. A little scared, a little dinged up, but I’m safe, and you’re safe- and we’re okay.” you both just lean back into each other and hold each other for a few minutes, both trying to calm yourselves and reassuring each other that you’re okay

Gentle “I thought I lost you” kisses !!!!!!

About an hour after, you and Speirs disappear you come back out to the main room, the choir is still singing and a few of the boys look over, ready to poke fun at you and lighten the mood, but the second they see your face they back out because, you may not let on but you’re just as affected by everything as everyone else is, and you watching the man you’re in love with risk his life was finally your breaking point

You fall asleep in that church cuddled up on one of the pews towards one of the side windows, Ron sitting sideways on the pew with his legs laid out, you’re laying cuddled into him with your back against his chest and holding his arms wrapped around you

You both just whispering to each other how much you love one another between sleepy kisses as you fall asleep

HAGENEAU

Hageneau isn’t much better emotionally, everybody is still cold and miserable, and people keep dying even though you’re covered by houses and roofs

The only saving grace is the single warm shower with no soap, the clean uniform and the uncomfortable squeaky mattresses

Speaking of the showers, the officers get their own shower area away from the other men, that are broken into small cubicles for a bit more privacy

Ron sneaks you into the officers shower so you can have some time for just yourself, instead though you ask Ron to stay with you

He's hesitant because you never get any time to just be alone, constantly surrounded by other soldiers or on occasion being shuttled to the aid station as an extra set of hands

But he takes one look at you, covered in blood and dirt, barely able to keep your eyes open, cold and so so upset, and he folds like a lawn chair, nodding and following you to one of the stalls

When you shower together this time nothing about it is sexual, it’s the complete opposite of your time in Paris, nobody is laughing and making soapy mohawks or having really good shower sex. You’re just standing near each other, sometimes not even touching, just enjoying the warm water and the feeling of weeks of dirt and blood running down the drain

You both stand there a few times, looking at each other and the others body, taking in all the changes that your body has gone through since before Bastogne

You spend some time just running your hands over the others' new scars, some are fresher and some have faded with time. There’s a few scars that were fresh when you were on leave and when you both run your fingers over them for a moment you can imagine you’re back there safe and haven’t yet gone through the hell-on-earth that is that forest

Then the ground rattles with artillery and you decide that’s enough time wishing you were somewhere else.

Ron claims a room in the least destroyed house he can find and is like “I found a room for us :)” and something about the way he says “us” makes you feel warmer than the sun and it lifts your mood so much for such a little thing

The night of the prisoner snatch is stressful and you’re not even going across the river

You’re sat on the edge of the allies bank right where the boats will land, just incase anybody is hurt

You spend the entire time after they launched crouched against the cold dirt hoping that your friends make it out okay

Of course nothing goes right and it’s practically a fist fight as the boat sails across the water

You’re right there the second they land and jump into action

The boys carry Eugene Jackson towards the basement where the rest of the men had been waiting, struggling as he writhed and cried from the pain, limbs flying out every which way, and eventually smacking you right in the face

Your eyes water as Eugene's fist collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back into the wall

There’s yelling and chaos and you holler for someone to “go grab Doc Roe!”

By the time Gene gets to you your fresh uniform has blood smeared on it from trying to cradle Eugene's face to keep him still and your hands are wet with the red liquid

Gene gestures for you to move and allow him to take over which you do willingly, now turning to Babe to try and distract him from the horrible screaming and crying Eugene is letting out

Ron is sitting up on the bed in the he had commandeered for you both when you come shuffling into the room blood soaking your hands and smeared on your fresh uniform

He doesn’t look up from the files he was given, just greeting you with a, “Hey sweetheart, how’d it go?”

You don’t respond, just walking silently into the bathroom attached to the room turning on the tap and scrubbing the blood off your hands

“Baby?”

You’re just scrubbing, and scrubbing and scrubbing and it just ‘won’t come off’ and ‘jesus christ why won’t it come off?’

You’re not even scrubbing anymore you’re just scratching at your hands, your wrists, your arms, and you just want it off “off, off, get it off”

And suddenly rough hands gently grab your wrists and there's a voice speaking to you and telling you that, “it’s okay, we’ll get it off, we’ll get it off…take a deep breath and we’ll get it off”

You’re not even crying you’ve just gone numb and have a thousand yard stare over Ron’ shoulder as he gently washes your hands in his own, he’s watching the red water turn to pink and finally to clear

Ron takes his time, making sure to clean every finger and under every nail until your hands are the cleanest they’ve been since before Bastogne

Ron turns off the tap and just looks at you with the saddest eyes, you don’t even realise he’s finished until he asks you “are you okay?” he knows the answer but knows that’s the only way to get you to tell him what happened

“Eugene died…” his eyes go wide, “Jackson- Eugene Jackson…” his face goes slightly more lax, realising that your fellow medic hadn’t been killed “he was twenty-three…he kept crying he was in so much pain, his face- he was-”

Ron is watching you concerned and gets scared as you just stop talking, like someone suddenly turned off a radio

“You don’t have to talk y/n…can I- can I touch you?” He’s never seen you this small before, you’re like a wounded animal, your eyes are dead and looking straight through him

Not even looking at him you just nod silently. Ron nods back and scoops you into his arms, carrying you back into the main room, gently placing you on the bed

You’re both silent as he unlaces and takes off your boots, and then your dirty jacket and (he asks of course), your pants and shirt too

he’s already making a plan to get you a new uniform before you wake up

he grabs his sweater he was wearing that night in the church and pulls it over you, it covers you well enough since it’s a size too big

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and Ron gets up for a moment and walks over to his pack and takes out a small bottle and a rag, he tips just a few drops of the liquid onto it and comes back to you, so softly just brushing it over your hands to get rid of the smell of copper blood

Once he’s done you raise your hands to your nose and it just smells like Ron

It takes you a moment because you haven’t smelled it since Paris but it’s the cologne he bought while you were both there, and it just takes you back to the time you spent together, when everything was okay and it felt like you weren’t two soldiers on leave but just two people in love spending time together

you realise that he wiped just enough of the cologne on your hands that you can’t smell the copper anymore and you can just smell him

you just lay down and curl up on the bed as Speirs gets his outer layers and boots off before climbing in behind you and pulling into him, your back to his chest

he just holds you the whole night, letting you cry, or mumble about how “none of this is fair”, and he talks about what you’re going to do together after all this is over, talking to you sleep

“I’ll get you a house with a big old porch that wraps around the entire house. We can drink tea and watch the sun go down.”

(had to throw in a Notebook quote for emotional damage)

GERMANY

When news comes that you’ll be moving in to occupy Germany you can’t tell whether to be excited or terrified because taking Germany means the end of the war, but it also means a final stand on the Germans part

Now that Ron is Easy’ CO that means that you can travel in the same vehicle

So you’re both sitting in the backbed of a truck with some other Easy men when you see something bright flash over your hand

You hold up your hand and see it flash again

Looking over your shoulder you see from behind the thick layer of trees, the sun is shining for the first time in nearly 2 months

You shoot up from your seat, turning to look out the side of the uncovered truck and Ron shoots out to grab your waist to stop you from tumbling over

“Woah-! What are you doing- What is it?”

“The sun!”

He looks up at you like you’re crazy

“The sun is out! And it’s warm!”

You guys break through the trees and the sun just lights you up, and for the time in months the sun is out, and its yellow and it’s warming you from the outside in

Ron is just holding you by the waist and looking up at you like you’re crazy but suddenly the yellow light from the sun is shining on your face, and the wind is blowing through your hair and you are beaming looking at the sun shining overhead

You get so excited at the warmth you’re finally getting and start to stip off your scarf, fingerless gloves, hat and thicker jacket

Joe playfully wolf whistles and the sound of it snaps Ron out of the trance you had unknowingly put him in with a, “Shut it Liebgott!”

Compared to the last town you stayed in Landsberg seems like a dream

Warm homes, real beds, actual fresh food and warm weather

But then you find the camp

And everything seems just hopeless

You all had known the Germans were bad, there’s a reason you’re fighting a war against them

But none of you had really realised just how bad it really was

As you walk through the open gates people are gently grasping at your jacket, your hair, your hands

Looking for some sort of comfort and thanking you

You try and comfort them back, saying words of relief in the broken German Joe had been teaching you back in the foxhole in Bastogne

As a medic you and Gene are asked to stay behind to give any attention to anyone you possibly can

Ron has to go back to the battalion HQ to give his report of what they found, and leaving you here, watching you take care of the people who have been through such horrible acts as they close the gates behind him, Nixon, Winters and Welsch, locking you in there is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do

You don’t come home until late that night, reeking of death and alcohol

You and Ron don’t say anything to each other, you just sit on a couch in the house the officers were sharing, and you pull out the random bottle Lewis gave you and just pass it back and forth in silence the whole night, knowing that you had to get up and go back there again in the morning

Leaving the people in the camp behind was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, forming a relationship of trust with the people in there and suddenly having to up and leave them after a week because of some higher-ups orders was one of the most frustrating experiences you’ve ever had

But when Ron told you you’re leaving to Berchtesgaden it felt like the beginning of the end

The drive up through the mountains is one of the most beautiful views you’ve ever seen

“It’s beautiful here. We should come back again one day.”

“You mean like when we’re not getting shot at?”

“Of course I mean when we’re not getting shot at Ron.”

Walking through the small town of completely abandoned high ranking Nazi homes was so eerie and had everyone on guard, until the entire place was swept and cleared the men started drinking like the war was over

(which at this point is basically was)

Ron is looting like it’s his job. He comes back to the room in the house the officers taken over with armfulls of expensive items everytime he comes back from somewhere

You spend most of your time hanging out with the other men of Easy, exploring the area, swimming and looting as well

You and Ron spend one night together where you’re just laying in the large bed in the officers house, with all the windows open and are just talking about what’s going to happen next

“War in Europe’s is over…do you have enough points to go home?”

“No…even if I did you’re not going to the Pacific without me Sparky.”

It’s a difficult conversation to have because you’ve both just barely made it through the war in Europe together and now you’re going to be shipped off to the Pacific where everything is 10x worse, which means it’s 10x more likely that one of you isn’t making it out of there alive

Ron is in his dress uniform watching you play baseball with everyone, just taking in the moment

The second that Dick says that the war is over your eyes snap to each other and you run and jump into his arms

He lifts you up and gives you the biggest kiss, (which has the boys cheering even louder)

You both get HAMMERED that night with everyone (except for Dick who is present but is not drinking lol)

There’s a chugging competition between everyone, (Lewis is a man who sips his drinks so he does not do well, I think that Bill wins, then Joe Toye and Ron is maybe 3d)

By the time 2 am rolls around everyone is blissfully drunk, and you and Ron have migrated out to the balcony and are just slow dancing together silently

since the war has been officially declared over you spend the rest of your time in Germany relaxing, swimming and just having fun and being kids with everyone basically, until you’re given a way to get back to the states

POST WAR

You go back to your families for about 2 months before you realise that you can’t live without each other and yall buy a house

it’s a fixer upper in a nice neighbourhood and it becomes your own project

you buy a camera to document the process of you renovating the house until it becomes your dream home

it takes about 8 months for it to be finished, and after Ron claims the garden as his fixer upper project and he makes it beautiful

I don’t Ron actually proposes I think he just looks up at you one day, the sun shining through the living room window, the radio playing quietly and you just look so ethereal and content, it reminds him of when he asked you to go dancing with him that he just can't help but say

“Will you marry me?”

You’re already smiling before you even look at him, taking your time to put your bookmark in before looking at him with a smile to rival the sun and just say

“Yes. I think I will.”

You guys are married within a year of him asking

I think you would have a small wedding, right in that perfect time where spring turns to summer and it’s not too hot but everything in Ron’s beautiful garden is blooming

You have the ceremony outside of a historical home under a huge willow tree

It’s just you both, your immediate families and Easy, everyone is dressed in their dress uniforms and I think Ron would be too (unless you asked him to wear a proper suit in which case he absolutely would)

Lipton is Ron’s best man, with Lewis being a part of his groomsmen

Dick walks you down the aisle (he is crying the whole way) and hands you off to Ron

The reception is in the backyard of the home, there's a beautiful ceremony setup (i'm legit picturing Bilbo baggins 111th birthday party energy)

The list of people had to be approved before the wedding because everybody wanted to make a speech

The list goes: You and Ron, one of each of your parents, Dick, Eugene, Lewis, Malarkey

You and Ron have a perfect first dance and the second it’s over you’re being spun around the floor by every soldier in Easy, all saying things like “you never danced with us at any of the pubs so we’re making up for lost time!”

He love to garden after the war

The officers come over about every 2 months to catch up and have dinner, and every single time one of them gets roped into hearing about how “I asked for white hydrangeas and do you know what Glenda at the store gave me? Pink hyacinth! Can you believe her? Everybody knows that you can’t put pink hyacinth next to pink peonies, they’d clash!”

“Dick, I’d go save your husband over there before he buries mine in his precious garden.”

I don’t think you have/adopt kids right away, instead you adopt a dog from a shelter that you treat like your kid

I do think Ron would like to be a dad one day though

post war i think he either just had a calm day job like down at a shop or something or he becomes a teacher (elementary school maybe like grade 6? and all the kids love him)

i don’t think he talks a lot about the war once its over, only the happy parts at least

how he sleeps head cannons:

he likes cuddling you in any way possible but he prefers either your back to his front or his head on your chest with his body half sprawled on top of yours

DEATH GRIP ON YOU, you have to pry his arms off you if you need to get up in the night

but he does get nightmares a lot, not ones where he’s kicking and screaming, but he starts to shift and mumble

you usually wake him up by just holding him and quietly talking to him to wake him

he wakes with a start and a jolt and his breathing is rapid and uneven and it takes him a few minutes to remember he’s home and he’s safe

you both just lay there and he silently cries for a few minutes and you comfort him

i think after a night like that he’s up for the rest of the night, he just putters around or sits up and thinks, he always tells you to go back to bed though

you always stay up with him, saying that “I was awake anyways, couldn’t sleep.” through big yawns laying against his side on the couch or big window seat

there was one night a few months after the war ended and everything was still a little too fresh, and Ron is mumbling and shifting

you wake up because he starts to throw his arms around

you lean over to try and wake him up because he’s getting louder and starting to kick his legs

Then his arms start to flail

you ‘re getting scared because he just won’t wake up so you grab him by his shoulders and shake him, begging for him to open his eyes

His eyes shoot open as he’s frantic and lost and you realise that he's not here with you

His hands come up and he grabs your arms so tight you’re pretty sure they’ll bruise and he shoves you off of him, you go tumbling off the bed onto the floor, smacking your head

You lay there dazed for a moment dazed, your head aching

Ron has pushed himself up against the headboard, trying to calm his breathing and come back down from whatever memory he had been trapped in

You both just sit/lie still for a minute, the only sound being your heavy breathing, until Ron whispers

“Y/n?”

And god he just sounds so small, and broken and scared

You haven’t heard him this scared since Bastogne when he thought you died, and it scares you just how defeated he sounds

You push yourself off the floor and crawl on the bed, flicking on the small bedside lamp and illuminating the room just enough that you can see just how messy he looks

His eyes are wet and his hair is a mess, his chest is heaving with shuddering breaths

You don’t touch him, just reach your hand out and place it between you two, giving him the option to take it or not

“Yeah Ron, I’m here…don’t worry, I’m here, you’re safe in our home.”

He gently reaches out and tangles your fingers together, slowly shifting closer to you, seeking some comfort but not wanting to touch you, his body still on high alert from his dream

“Wh-what were you doing on the floor? Did- did I-”

“Ron no-”

“Oh god- I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to- you know I would never-” He starts to cry. No not cry, he starts to heave and sob, appalled that he could hurt you in any way

He pushes himself back from you and curls up against the headboard

You crawl right up next to him and wrap him in your arms, running a hand through his hair and up and down his back as you whisper to him

“I know Ron- I know baby. You would never hurt me. You didn’t know, you weren’t here with me, you were somewhere else.”

It never happens again this badly, but there are still nights where the one of you has to hold the other when they wake up scared, confused and just lost

The first Easy Company reunion comes around and when you show up everybody is like “Who is this man and what have you done with Captain Speirs?” because this man is giving you regular kisses and ones on the cheek, he’s holding your hand and has his palm on the small of your back, you’re holding hands and basically just being a normal couple, but the boys cannot function because “Where is our scary Captain Speirs, and what did you do with him??”

Is that a SMILE???? The boys have no idea how you’ve done this but you have somehow caused their rough and tumble CO to become so soft and loving they can barely look at the two of you

At one point everyone is dancing and he pulls you out onto the floor and I fully believe that Malarkey passes out because he’s so shocked

this boy can DANCE i’m telling you. he love to slow dance with you

He is pulling out all the moves because he's finally around his friends in a space where they’re not getting shot at constantly and he can finally let go and be himself

The boys are all whooping and hollering because you both look so carefree and in love and they’re so happy for you

when you finally have time to relax you both spend a lot of time reading with your legs thrown over his lap and his hand is just gently rubbing your calf and ankle, it’s a great reminder that you’re both here together and everything is calm and safe now

Only after the war does he actually loosen up in public, and oh boy you better be ready because the second he starts showing how much he loves you in public he refuses to stop

I’m talking: hand holding every second you’re outside because “I don’t want you to get lost…and your hands are soft”, kisses for everything whether it’s kisses as payment for getting something off a shelf for you or kisses just because you look so good that he just can’t help himself

shows you off at every chance he gets: he goes down to the shop (he’s befriended every old lady who works the register) and when he’s at checkout the lady goes “and who’ve you got with you today Ronald?” and he’s so excited and is all like, “this is y/n, my partner!”

This man reads poetry!!!! And he loves to recite it to you while you’re both cooking, or laying in bed late at night while you play with his fingers, and he loves to read it to you while you’re sitting in your backyard with his head in your lap and your fingers combing through his hair gently 

looks at you with his warm gaze so full of love, almost always when you turn to look at him and see him just watching you with his warm brown eyes and you just get so shy and flustered you have to look away (he loves when you get like that he thinks it’s so fucking cute)

EXTRAS

flirts with you all the time!!! (even after you’re married. he just loves to make you swoon)

one may think that Ron would get in to fights when someone disrespects you but you alway tell him “they’re not worth it Ron don’t bother honey.”

but YOU on the other hand, if someone says something about Ron you jump their ass

that actually happened back when everyone was at some small pub one night and you’re walking back to the table with all the boys at it and some guy tries to harass you so Ron steps in with one of those ‘You better back the fuck off my partner’ looks and you start back to your seat when the guy pipes up about Ron and you just swing around and DECK him. All that time training came in handy as you started to beat his ass. All the boys are cheering you on (Bill will say that he’s never been prouder of you, and both Joes and Tab were cheering like they had money on you)

it takes Ron, Winters and a tipsy Nixon to pull you off the poor guy before you kill him

Ron pulls you out of the bar to cool of but you just keep your hands locked and keep walking until you get back to your room and have some fantastic rage induced sex (not mad at each other, just riled up and showing one another how much you love and care for each other)

has a really deep morning voice

and the best bed head, like he makes it look so good and like such boyfriend/husband materal

loves to stare at you when you get happy/excited, it makes him happy!

the second he realises that he can loot he anonymously leaves you gifts that he thinks you’d enjoy

it starts off simple with items like candies and treats

then it becomes more thoughtful like a nice chain or a simple ring band that won’t get in the way of your work as a medic

he absolutely loves seeing you wear or read the gifts he’s left for you, it’s like he’s there protecting you and claiming you as his but from afar, when you play with the ring on your finger when your nervous out bored during briefings it makes him so happy

is a surprisingly good singer?? doesn’t do it very often and NEVER around people (epically the men) but when it’s just you two with a moment alone he loves to sing to you while swaying gently with one hand on your waist and one holding yours

Loves to sing ‘I’ll be seeing you’ by Billie Holiday

everytime he comes back from looting a house he goes “give me your hand.” and pulls out a handful of different sizes, cuts and colours of rings, gently placing each one on your finger, noting each time you say that you like an aspect of it

“I like the cut of the stone in this one, I'm just not sure of the colour though.”

Ron: *quickly grabs his notebook and scribbles something down in it before pocketing the ring*

LOVES when you play with his dog tags (especially when you are laying together post-sex), and loves the way your dog tags look when you’re bouncing on him, and they’re jingling and catching the light perfectly

i think his love languages are;

giving: gift giving and acts of service, quality time

receiving: quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch

speaking of physical touch:

he is NOT big on PDA, he prefers to keep any intimate moments like kissing just between the two of you (or occasionally quick pecks around the other officers, that causes you to blush so much he has to give you a second one. Even Dick jokes at him, “Jesus Sparky, please keep it in your pants-” “Dick I swear to God-!”)

but when you are in public is more like a gentle hand on the small of your back, brushing hair out of his face and letting your fingers linger there for a little longer than necessary, linking your pinkies together when you’re standing close enough

he also LOVES when you grab the back of his jacket/shirt or his belt loop to not get lost in a crowd, it makes him feel like you trust him

when y’all are in PRIVATE he LOVES making out

slow and gentle, just you and him, rubbing your hands along his stubble, pulling back for a moment to giggle and tell him how ticklish it is, (he promises to shave it, you tell him your like to feel it somewhere else before he does)

loves making out with you ANYWHERE but especially his office, like pushing you up onto his desk where his body fits perfectly between your legs, he can trap you between his arms and hold your hands down onto the wooden desk, loves the sense of privacy it gives you both

more than once you’ve been interrupted and you’ve had to fake bringing him some papers he needed

“Speirs- Sergeant L/N! Sorry for interrupting, I didn’t realise you had a… guest.”

“It’s alright Sir, they were just dropping off some paperwork.” Winters is SO EMBARRASSED, but not nearly as much as you are when Nixon points out

“You might wanna fix your hair before you go anywhere else Sergeant.” with a shit eating grin on his face.

your face goes red before you look at Ron guilty, he just smirks back at you causing you to blush an even deeper shade of red.

carries around pictures of you in his OD jacket pocket!!!!! they’re in a tin so they don’t get ruined, he loves to just flip through them and stare when you are a part from each other

there’s a few photos of the two of you when you finally had weekend passes and you went to Paris. There's one of you and him both in your uniforms standing together, his arms wrapped around you as you're mid laugh and he’s looking down at you with eyes like you hung the moon.

You’ve got one really good one you put on your bedside table when you get back, it’s Ron in regular clothes smiling directly into the camera blowing smoke out of his mouth, it’s very domestic and handsome. The first time he sees it he’s all “oh come on you wanna keep that one? It’s so bad-" "I think you look beautiful and handsome, like a leading man.” He sees how you stare at that photo and decides ‘maybe it’s not so bad after all’

Another is of you both in regular civilian clothes, it’s a strip of photo booth pictures, that get progressively more steamy. The first one is just you two looking at each other, you’re sitting on his lap and cradling his face. the second one is you both kissing, it’s sweet (and later he puts that one in his wallet when you get home). Third photo is, you both, still kissing but now your hands are gripping his shirt and his hands are all in your hair (that way that Tab runs his hands through that girl's hair in Holland, you know the gif). the final one in the strip is of him staining at you with loving eyes, having just pulled back from a kiss- hands still in your hair- but you’re staring directly into the camera with this look on your face that he loves seeing, you’re rapidly unbuttoning your shirt

nsfw:

in that tin of photos there are more than a few risqué and sexual ones. You rented a camera to take photos while in Paris and when you finally get the developed images sent to you at the front you and Ron open them and the first photo is of you just sitting against the headboard of the hotel room bed, hugging a pillow against your naked body with the sheets bunched up around your feet, your hair is a controlled beautiful mess and you’re staring directly into the camera with half lidded eyes, (obviously just having settled down enough the push yourself upright). Ron’s breath hitches and he grabs it, immediately placing it in the tin with other photos of you both.

photos of you both mid sex

you have one that you took while riding him, he’s laying down with his head thrown back and his mouth partially open and his eyes are closed and he just looks wrecked. you pocket that one just as quickly as he pocketed yours.

he has one of you doing it in front of a mirror, he’s behind you taking the photos and your head is thrown back and your back is arched. the photo is slightly blurred because of the movement while he was taking it but he love it

the first time you had sex together was when you were back in civilization for a US Open show and we’re billeted on the same block.

he is so gentle that first time and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he slides into you.

“oh fuuuuuck, god-“ he hisses through his teeth to keep himself quiet

says that he’s quiet in bed but occasionally after a long day (or if he’s drunk) will groan and moan, taking deep breaths so loud like a virgin trying not to cum to quickly

Aims to please!!!!!! love going down on you especially when he either needs to let go for a while (lets you ride his face), or if he gets jealous and wants to make sure you know that he’s the only one who can make you feel like that.

if you have a vagina he pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs so you’re completely exposed and fucking goes at it, not stopping until you either; start crying, cum so many times you lose count, squirt or safe-word him. will push your hands away when

you try to grab his hair to either push him away or bring him closer.

if you have a penis he loves sitting you down on a chair or the edge of a bed and holding you down by your thighs so you can’t buck up into his mouth. gets you there then holds tight at your base so you cant cum/pulls back at the last second to ruin it. will dig his short nails into your thighs when you won’t stop moving.

pull his hair please

would never say it but loves when you call him by his rank

you accidentally said it one time when you were on leave and you didn’t come out of the room all day. you had a reservation for dinner at 5 and when that time rolled around you were letting in the bed shaking, coming down from the best orgasm of your life. you tried to get up and have a shower but ended up going twice more around the room and twice in the shower, every time finishing with a cry of “Lieutenant Speirs!”, they got him to just go harder. you showed up for your 5pm reservation at 8:30, still shaking slightly. Ron was a smug s.o.b through all of dinner.

fucked👏🏻you👏🏻on👏🏻his👏🏻desk👏🏻 

had his hand covering your mouth to keep you from screaming so loud everyone could hear you

at one point someone comes and knocks on his door, he slows but doesn’t stop rocking into you as he speaks to them through the door, his hand covering your mouth and you stare at him with wide eyes, as he’s speaking to the poor person on the other side of the door he kisses and nips and sucks at your neck, basically he’s torturing you and expects you to make zero noise

you let out a single squeak and he freezes, glaring at you, you start shaking your head trying to apologize but his hand is still over your mouth

“i’ll come back later sir…”

the SECOND that poor guy is gone Ron tightens his hand on your mouth and goes crazy, rubbing you with his one hand, while moving in and out and fucking whispering into your ear practically degrading you for making so much noise while he’s fucking you and someone is on the other side of the door (this man makes me have many thoughts)

he loves to look up at you while going down on you, the same as earlier, he’s looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars and you can barely look at him because the look in his eyes is just too much for your brain to process through all the stimulation

when he’s jealous or you’re both being rougher he loves to make you look him in his eyes, staring at him as he makes you feel so good and his eyes flutter closed because he’s getting just as much if not more pleasure from this than you are

will finger you under any table, does not matter who is sitting with you

(possibly more than) once Ron has been fingering you under the table and Lewis and Dick know exactly what’s going on and one of them has to fake feeling sick because they know if they don’t leave now yall are gonna end up fucking on the table and they don’t want to see that

once you two are married he LOVES and i means LOVES to finger you and lick your cum off of his ring finger with the wedding band still on it, it’s so possessive and makes him so turned on

you’re the only person who can top him

loves when you take control, especially when you ride him and pull his hair, grab him by the face to make him look at you and are overall rough with him (also loved when you make him cum before you and you just sit with him twitching inside you while he comes down until he can go again because i “I didn’t finish, what did i say was going to happen if you came before I got to?”

lazy, beautiful morning sex in with a warm breeze coming through the windows

defo has fucked you in the back garden; both on the grass (you were bent over on the ground gardening and he just couldn’t help himself because “you know how i feel when you wear those bottoms-“), and him sitting on the wicker seating set with the comfortable cushions you have in the back with you lazily riding him, not really thrusting and jumping as much as just lazily rolling your hips together

loves clothed sex; both of you being clothed (hiumping each other over pants or him pulling your dress/skirt up to push against your underwear), or only one of you being clothed (he loves the way it looks when he’s jumping against your covered ass and you love the way the front of his pants look when you get them wet by rocking against him)

not necessarily risky when it comes to sex but has a bit of a kink for almost getting caught, (would never want you two to get actually caught since he’s “the only one allowed to see you like this”)

you guys have fucked in ever room in your house, just to run through a couple places:

living room: couch, every chair, floor (rug)

kitchen: kitchen table, counter (both over and on top of it), dining room table

bedroom: bed, chair, over the and on top of the dresser, against the door, against ye window (faces the backyard) 

bathrooms: bathtub, shower, lid closed (ya nasty) sitting on the toilet, against the door, tiled floor and the bath mat

office: desk (over it, on top of it, on the edge of it, eating you out/sucking him off leaning against the table/sitting on the edge of the chair), sitting on his lap in the chair, against the bookshelf, window nook, the arm chair

garage: in the car, on the hood of the car, against the door during parties, against the wall (the concrete causing you to arch your back from the cold rough texture)

closets (upstairs ones while guests are over and asking “where tf are our hosts?”

okay that’s my short list of places lmaooo

idc what parts you have Ron has a breeding kink

you guys love to cockwarm while reading it while one of you is doing work

likes to kiss you while you’re having sex but when you’re in control prefers when you bite and nip at him

has a slight choking kink

within the first 2 times you guys have sex he knows a) exactly what to do to get you going and b) where the most sensitive parts of your body are and WILL use that against you every chance he gets

this man whines when he gets too sensitive, is really calm and comfortable, or when you’re topping him and calling him nicknames

has a choking kink (on either of you)

he’s very vocal with grunts and either praise or degrading you, also moans the first time he’s in you, every time 

calls you: baby, sweetheart, perfect, (when more aggressive): cocksleeveve, slut, good boy/girl

will call you his personal medic/nurse/doctor

you call him: baby, lovey, good/perfect boy, daddy occasionally, captain speirs (which will get him to go to a whole other level)

you two have done some sexy medic/patient role play before both during the war and after (mayhaps a little morphine was involved, which was very hard to explain to Gene why you were down a bottle suddenly)

overstimulate each other

loves to watch you touch yourself, the way your body moves is like crack to him

you do this both when you’re trying to torture him (he’s tired to the headboard or a chair) or as a mutual masturbation thing

he is the perfect size, rides that sweet line between “ouch that’s too big” and “a slight stretch” where you tend to need a second when he sinks in for the first time but the stretch is always welcome

you both love when you give him head and when you pull back you’re connected to him with spit and cum

yall definitely had secret foxhole rendezvous (this is where his ‘hand over your mouth to keep you quiet’ kink came from)

after your first time together (on the wonderful Paris leave), you look over at him with watery eyes and just say “i love you so much.” he doesn’t hesitate with a “i love you more than anything.”

that instigates the softest second round of just sweet, loving kisses and quiet “i love you”’s  in between and when you finish

keeps asking you to wear your PT clothes (post war) because he can’t help but watch hot your body and muscles move under the tight shirt and short shorts

after weeks of him asking you surprise him by coming back from a light run in those clothes and he knows that it’s on

after some hot ass sex you ask him if he’ll wear his “your back and muscles look great in that shirt and your ass looks incredible in those shorts.”

within the week he pulls the same scenario of going out for a light run in that outfit and you jump his fucking bones

he likes it why you try to cover your moans and whines by biting your lip or with your hand or in a pillow but you just can’t help it and become so loud

you both like when the other gets watery eyes and starts getting all soft and sensitive and their eyes get wide and submissive

like to talk to you during sex, “you’re doing so good for me-“ “fuck you’re feel good baby-“, “you krio doing that i won’t last long-“, “you look so good when you ride me baby, oh fu—“

when he gets really close after a few rounds and is overstimulated and is almost crying (consensually) he pants and gasps and finishes with a cry and maybe a sob but he feels so good-

loves when you feel too much and you just sort of space out for a second or go silent because your brain just short circuits

maybe you squirt once and tried to do it for a whole night after that

once did it so much that he made you dehydrated (can that even happen? idk, but now it can.)

y’all have aftercare DOWN

you know exactly what the other needs after there are dom/sub roles in play or after just regular (incredible as usual) sex

cleaning each other in the shower or bath gentle, kissing so softly of sometimes just being near each other but not touching because you’re both so sensitive

tea and snacks in bed cuddled up after (or any food and hydration really)

if one of you is particularly tired after, the other reads to them while running their hair through their hair until the person on their lap/shoulder/chest fall asleep

aggressive angry sex (you’re never scared the other is going to hurt each other because you know that you’re never angry at each other (just something/someone else) and that you just need to get all of the aggression and energy out and maybe feel more in control of the world for a bit

talks you through it

“that feel good sweetheart? tell me how good it feels.”

“what’s wrong baby, you gonna cum for me again?”

“oh you just feel so good you can’t even think anymore! so drunk on my cock aren’t you sweetheart!” 

yell tease each other like it’s your job

that could mean verbally teasing each other or edging each other, or giving the other the gentlest touches and brushes, just barely touching the other for them to get anything other than a shiver of pleasure

slow dancing that just turned to grinding

This man makes me have thoughts I should not have, so I will stop here <3

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hiii this is the anon that requested part two and i return begging for part three of tennis! zoro.

ahem.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

thanks for coming to my tedtalk! :)

in all seriousness though i would love to see a part 3 and definitely think you should have an ao3 to post longer content!! please keep up your lovely writing 💋💋 (MAKE ZORO REALLY WORK FOR IT HEHEHEHE [i was sobbing over how cute his little offerings were AND FALLING ASLEEP AT THE DOOR i cant])

UR THE ONLY ONE KEEPING ME GOING GIRLY 🎀😞. SO GLADDD YOU LIKED THAT ONE, HERE HAVE THIS ONE NOWWW. ILL MAKE ZORO EXTRAA PATHETIC FOR YOU MWUAH😚

bitchimasnake-sss presents: the one piece AUs

03. AITA for going back to my ex? ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: part 03 [FINAL PART] to my badminton player!zoro au lol. you can find the first two parts here! (i recommend you read those first!) getting your heart broken when you were seventeen was inevitable, getting it broken on camera seven years later was also inevitable, it seems. but letting your ex back into your life with the glittering promises of "i'll win you back in a month?" was getting your heart broken again and again and again also inevitable? most importantly: was roronoa zoro worth your sanity? warnings: dumb people, even dumber plot by me! includes angst towards the end, zoro is an idiot trying his best to win you over! cameos by nami, sanji, perona and mihawk because i love writing them tysm. and obviously smut (hehe u nasty). nsfw thoughts include: feral!zoro. this man is nasty, he likes blood, sweat and tears. a lot of overstimulation, a little bit of bimbofication, hints of dub!con, car-sex, penetration, teasing, dirty talk, a little bit of feral!zor. OKAY THAT'S IT!! MINORS DNI OR I WILL HUNT YOU! wc: 10.6k m.list

17th of october 11:43 p.m.

"really?" and you could hear sanji drop his precious cigarette onto the ground in pure, unaltered shock, "are you toying with me right now, love?"

"no." you replied firmly, nimble fingers getting caught against familiar, green locks as roronoa zoro pressed honeyed lips to your stomach. he trailed downwards, uncaring as your manager spluttered on the speaker.

"you are actually dating that green-haired freak?" from his tone alone, you could imagine sanji to look wide-eyed and tongue-tied. meeting the eyes of the said “green haired freak”, you found a sour expression plastered to his handsome features.

"no... well, not yet.” you swiped your fingers against his scalp, manicured fingers softly scratching the frown on his face away, “we're on a one-month trial phase."

"are you and him a netflix subscription, mon amore? what do you mean one month?" the blonde hissed. but you were far too gone, too warped within the feeling of the athlete’s soft kisses on your hiked-up thighs to even offer a hairsbreadth of attention to your critic.

"well–" as the sportsman hands trailed over your thighs all-too-intimately, you found yourself sighing blissfully, "he said he wants a month to win me back.”

“that is insane.”

“maybe. but his time starts today, so, we have until 17th of november to come to some sort of conclusion." zoro didn’t dare still against your soft skin. kneading the fat of your hips, pressing hot kisses to thighs and nipping at fading bruises to renew them. but you tightened your grip on his locks, tipping his head backwards as you pulled on them. glaring at him, you breathed out a warning, “either he cleans his act up, or i leave him in the dust."

but who was roronoa zoro if not the man made to get on your nerves?

his mouth fell agape as his eyes met yours, and a soft moan tumbling past him at the sharp sting of your pull. that wayward moan soon turned into a grunt as the sportsman toyed with the band of your shorts.

“stop that.” you whispered, eyes growing wide as the blonde on the other end of the speaker continued his distressed rants.

"and what do i do about it?!" for the first time in the five years vinsmoke sanji had been your manager, you heard his voice shake in panic, "you two just broke up! in front of the cameras! like a week ago!"

"it's fine, sanji. people get together all the time—"

"—not if they're olympic level athletes!"  

"hey, you have no idea how much shit goes down in the olympic village." you shrugged, "last time 160k condoms were given out, and people flew threw them like it was nothing. there’s lots of crying. and fucking too, actually. sometimes both, now that i think about it."

“rabid monsters.”

“don’t be jealous. athletes just have a lot of stamina.” while you were busy rolling your eyes at the blonde and his dramatic antics, zoro climbed back up over you. a smirk on his lips, flashing you his canines, and mouthing “really? stamina?”

clad in a fitted, black tank top, your eyes drifted down to his arms and chest. shamelessly staring at the muscles flexing and unflexing under the flimsy material, you brought your free hand to run wild against his bicep. finding his index under your jaw, he tilted your face up to meet his eyes again. you smiled up at him without much thought and his heart stuttered out in the rhythm of his shallow breaths. fuck you for being so pretty.

before you could nod and ask what he wanted, he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. next, he sunk his face in the crook of your neck. you felt the nip of his sharp canines against your sensitive pulse. but that sly bastard. all of that was to distract you from the way he dipped his hand under your shorts and pulled your panties aside.

“zo–“ you started slowly, but it was all in vain. the man above you was on a mission. and that mission was apparently to get your own manager to report you as a sex offender or something?! atleast that’s what it felt like from the way he rubbed his thumb against your sensitive clit. 

“either ways.” your manager huffed, ignoring the way your breath hitched at the new bruises against your neck and the stuttering swipes of his thumb against your folds, “this is still insane.”

"weren’t–” you gulped, trying to keep your voice steady, “you were the one saying that my job is to playand yours’ to take care of such things, so, do that.”

“and i can! i can fix it.” you heard a thud ring through the speaker and imagined that the blonde had fallen back onto his back helplessly, “but i need time to fix this. gotta talk to nami-san, and then i will need to fix the narrative using the media. i need time.”  

barely raising his lips off of your narcotic skin – with a flushed face and husky voice – zoro replied coolly, “don’t worry, nami’s on our side with this one.”

“HUH?! WHO WAS THAT?”

pinching the taut skin of the athlete’s bicep as a warning to stay shut, your tone stayed sickly sweet, “who? ‘twas the wind, sanji.”

“don’t try to sway me with your use of ‘twas.” he hissed like a wet cat, “is that mosshead here right now? is he in your room right now?!”

“and if you’re worried about the paps, roronoa will buy them out, you know?” as if to protest against your suggestion, zoro flicked his thumb faster against your swollen nub. you glared at him. “a-and if you’re worried someone will see us, they won’t. we won’t go public with it.”

“none of those suave answers.” sanji firmly stated, “answer what I asked first. is he there right now?”

you whistled a soft, “dunno what you’re talking about…” before drawing your phone away from your face, “because that’s blasphemous!!” purposefully covering the speaker with your palm, “hey, hey? sanji- hello? can’t hear… hear you right now. hello?”

you heard a muffled, “DON’T YOU DARE PULL THAT ON ME OR SO GOD HELP ME–“

“still can’t hear you.” your thumb hovered over the red button, “g’night, sanji!”

beep.

“i’m paying for the paps?”

trying to push his weight off of your relatively smaller frame, you huffed out, “c-can’t you stay shut when i ask you to, roronoa?”

in retaliation, he pressed more of his body weight onto you. snuggling his face into your crook and inhaling your scent like a man crazed, his fingers kept toying against you like it was as easy as breathing.

you tried to push him off again, gritting out, “do you think a good dick is enough of a reason to come back? cause it is not.”

“it is one of the reasons, is it not?”

“no. is it not.” you repeated, “shut it, and find a new strategy or something.”

“fine, tsk.” and with that the sportsman got off of you. pulling his hand out of your flimsy shorts, leaving behind your aching body as he got up. standing at the door, he looked back just to delve his long fingers past his lips to suck down on your essence. smiling as he pulled out, he made his conclusion in one, swift word, “sweet.”

and you just threw a pillow at him, face flaming up at the way he just simply caught the pillow and threw it right back at you, “fuck off, roronoa.”

“hm?” he cocked his eyebrow, careful hands still not attempting to open the door and leave, “I’ll just head back to my room, then.”

you found yourself crossing your arms over your chest, half to give him attitude and other half to soothe the skin that had been alit with his body over yours, “go, then. you’re the one who wandered in my room with unholy intentions.”

somebody could mistake his as the reincarnation of the devil with the way he was grinning. all unholy thoughts and malicious actions, “you’re the one still laying, waiting for me to do something.”

at his (correct) accusations, you sat up haughtily. adjusting the tank top and pulling it upwards, you found yourself glaring at the towering man for the nth time, “you’re insufferable. is this how you’re gonna win me back?”

“hey,” he shrugged, broad shoulders moving up and down with delicate ease, “worked the first time, didn’t it?”

“i was seventeen.” your eyes narrowed, “and you used to be way more handsome back then. it won’t work this time around.”

he hummed again, and within his cocky tone you could anticipate he had something to nag you with, “so i was handsome to you? that’s adorable.”

“fucking insufferable.”

“but handsome nonetheless?” and you almost threw your phone at his pretty face when he just grinned and exited the room. actually, no. you almost threw your phone when you realized that you were blushing, and fighting off a smile as he left your room.

what was this man doing to you?! ──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

19th of october, 7:58 p.m.

🍓attempt 01: no limits.

“okay, and i have no limits?” you asked again, just to ensure that you heard him right.

“yes, you do not.”

“and you’re not gonna sue me for using your money?”

“no, i will not. i don’t think i can legally.” he sighed, “do you wanna do it or not?”

“i do, but…” zoro's heavy voice kissed your ears, cutting you off, "then, stop whining. no buts, no ifs.”

“is this really how you’re gonna win me over?” mumbling, your lips fell into an easy pout, “feels more like bribery.”  

“nami said the quickest way to a woman's heart is shopping. or just cold, hard cash, really. but i figured this was more romantic." tilting his face downwards, his voice dropped down to a whisper, “does it feel romantic yet?”

goddamn that freak!

your skin erupted into a violent goosebump as you felt his words against your soft skin. your face heated up as your fingers stilled against the keypad of your laptop, the home page of your favorite shopping site pulled up and resting neatly. ready to do some damage on his wallet. well, honestly, what damage? he was a well-paid nepo baby who had a personal gym and court in his house. this would probably barely feel like a pinch to him.

“again, i ask for your consent.” you asked anyways, trying to remind yourself to be a business-savvy woman who had only come to absolutely wreck his wallet. zoro declared monotonously, “i give it with full consciousness. jesus, woman.”

“okay then, no taksies backsies.” you cleared your throat in anticipation. stretching your fingers slowly as they hovered over the keyboard. his arms wrapped around your middle and you fell against his chest with a soft thud, “start already.”

“what’s even the reason for this?”

“your manager said we can’t go out, like in public. and blondie hates me enough as it is right now. so, i didn’t wanna risk taking you shopping outside.” roronoa zoro found himself revelling in your dishevelled demeanour. voice honeyed, he rasped out, “what’s wrong with my room, though? nice ‘n comfy, isn’t it?”

“I meant what is the reason for me to sit on your fucking lap?”

“oh that?” he was laying in his bed, with you atop him and your laptop atop you. you grumbled on, “and is it necessary to do this in your room? the living room is a perfectly perfect place to shop online.”  

“you want me to get handsy in front of my father? that’s too much. the old man would probably die if he saw me like that.” he hummed, “not sure he’s ever even done anything. you know, given both me and ‘rona are adopted.”

you glared back at him at the shit he spewed but then your eyes widened as realization sunk in, “holy shit is he a forty year old... virgin?”

“dunno.”

“but he’s like emo, and vampirish. there’s no way he didn’t get some during the twilight era.”

“he was also the world champion at that time,” zoro reminisced, “he must have gotten girls.”

a laugh escaped you by, “zoro.” you stressed, “you’re the world champion right now. and the tally of girls you get is at a great zero.”

zoro mulled over your words before slowly shifting his pelvis so that you fell back at him unexpectedly, “not zero. got a girl on my lap right now.”

his laugh echoed yours as he held you tighter, and you tried to wriggle free, “jus’ cause you’re paying. no other reason.”

“how does it feel to lie to yourself?” he asked with mock grievance in his tone, and you tried to elbow his side to break free, “die.”

“kill me yourself, coward.”

“i will.” you admitted, still laughing as he decided to somehow tighten his grip even more firmly, “don’t. you’d look horrible in orange.”

“how dare you, roronoa zoro.” your palm struck his forearm playfully, “do not talk about my fashion choices when you shower once a week.” 

“nobody had a problem with it thus far,” he answered back easily, “but if you have a problem, i suppose i could shower semi-regularly.”

“semi-regularly?” you almost coughed up a hairball, “jesus christ, i don’t think i would able to fuck you ever again.”

“liar.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

22nd of October, 7:43 a.m.

🍓attempt 02: the way to the heart is through the stomach (i think??)

“roronoa.”

“father.”

“what are you doing in my kitchen right now?” the man raised a careful eyebrow, staring at his dishevelled son who he had caught not a minute earlier bickering with a red-head on his phone.

“cooking,” zoro deadpanned, “i'm trying to make waffles.”

his fathers hawk-like gaze swept over the kitchen. flour sprinkled over counter-tops, some on his cheek, a batter that looked more radioactive that the what remained of Chernobyl. the older man drawled on, “and i presume you know how to cook?”

“no. she's helping.” he flashed his father his phone-screen and the familiar, scorned woman who was on video-call. when she caught sight of mihawk, she smiled, “sir mihawk, how are you?”

“just passing by. come by for dinner someday, nami.” the man deadpanned and the manager laughed, “of course. how can I refuse?”

now his hawk-like stare was trained on zoro, who stared back at his father as if they were sworn enemies on court, “what is it, now?”

“is it for her?”

“who else?”

 “don’t burn my house down.”

“understood.”

and with that brief conversation, mihawk disappeared back into the mazes of his house, and zoro went back to bickering with the red-head.

“you add milk.” she emphasized, clicking her manicured nails together as she tried to guide an idiot to build the equivalent of rome, “do you not know what milk is?”

“i have enough calcium in my bones and I will not fall for scams like milk or medical insurance.”

“what?” she spluttered, “y-you don’t have insurance?!”

“when am I ever gonna need it, woman?”

“oh my god. you don’t have insurance!” and the last thing zoro saw the manager do was flip him off as she ran to some place elsewhere. possibly to get him some sort of medical insurance that he totally didn’t need. beep.

zoro’s fingers hovered over his contact list, the next stop being perona neesan 💗👻 .

“'rona.” zoro grumbled as he caught the face of perona on the other side. huge sunglasses were perched on her nose, a silky bandana flowing from her coloured hair, “awh, you remember me, zoro. finally.”

“quit that,” he mumbled helplessly before turning the back camera, “i need your help.”

“you’re committing arson at dad’s place?” she raised her sunnies so as to see the kitchen better. flour everywhere, and whatever the fuck was in that batter. kissing her teeth, she admitted, “i mean i don’t endorse violence… but that kitchen could use a makeover.”

“no. jesus, perona.” he turned to camera around to his face, “i– uh, i need to make waffles. an’ i don’t know shit. can you help or what?”

“huh?” her bug-like eyes widened impossibly wider, “yeah, obviously i can. but why are you cooking? is dad dying? and is his last wish to eat burnt waffles?”

“haha, funny.”

“wasn’t being funny. you have like... two left hands.”

“just to remind you, i’m ambidextrous.” zoro replied, poker-faced, and perona pouted, “who are you making them for, then?”

“myself.”

“liar.” narrowing her eyes, she probed further, “is it your ex? oh my god. are you guys actually together?”

“what?” zoro narrowed his eyes in return, “fuck off, ‘m not asking you for help.” he sighed, “where did you even hear about that?”

“it’s her?!” the goth girl squealed, “and you didn’t tell me?! I thought it was regular PR stuff that nami dragged you into. but she’s back? i remember how you sobbed when–”

“bye, 'rona. don’t call me back.” beep.

roronoa zoro had barely breathed when his elder sister called back. he picked it up with a groan, “what? I’m not answering your stupid questions.”

“okay fine.” she huffed, “’m not gonna ask you about your pathetic, little crush right now. keyword: right now.”

“perona.” he tried to threaten but the woman just leaned forward till her face was all zoro could see, “show me some respect, i’m older than you.”

“sorry.” the green-haired mumbled and his sister nodded in self-satisfaction, “and as far as waffles as concerned, don’t cook. you’d burn the house down. just order them in and say you made them.”

“isn’t that like, practically lying?”

“it is, yes.”  

“and aren’t you gonna tell me how it’s morally wrong to do that?”

“it’s a fucking waffle, zoro. not the olympics.” she finally pulled the sunnies back to her face and carefully perched them on her nose again, “nobody cares about cheating. just win her over, and thank me later.”

“you’re a bad influence, you know that?” a small smile cracked across his face, “oh, by the way–” the sportsman quirked an eyebrow, “do you have health insurance?”  

“i mean, who doesn’t?”

“me.”

“what?”

“nothing. thanks, i appreciate it.” the goth girl eyes widened all over again and zoro cut the call before her concerns could reach him.

8:55 a.m.

“you know what’s insane?” you mumbled through a mouthful, “i can swear that joanna’s bakery down the street makes these exact waffles.”

“do they?” zoro leaned forward, pouring more syrup to distract you, “that’s wild.”

“it is.” you nodded before taking another mouthful, “you know what else is insane?”

“how much of a good cook i am?” he tried, before having a bite himself.

“no.” you smiled at the way he gulped down the sweet breakfast up, “the fact that i swear i saw a brown bag with their logo in the trash, and now these waffles taste exactly like theirs.”

zoro froze, eyes trained on the mess of fried batter and syrup. he slowly looked up, “that’s insane, indeed.” he averted his gaze as you deadpanned, “you’re a terrible liar.”

“isn’t that an ideal quality though?” he tried again, “like, i could never lie to you.”

“mhm,” you nodded as a smile pressed to your lips, “try harder next time.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

25th of october, 10:03 p.m.

🍓attempt 03: with love, from an idiot.

“if this backfires, then what?” the man asked, and you could only make out faint noises from his phone. a faint, “if it backfires, then, you don’t get the girl, genius.” but nothing beyond that could deciphered as you stood with your ear to the door of your room.

“are you done?” you knocked at your door when the bickering on the other end ceased momentarily. the wood echoed under your faint hits as you called out again, “can I come in or what?”

there was no answer and you busied yourself with tracing the pattern of wood on the door once over. your forehead touched the cold wood, frustrated at yourself for allowing that beast to take over your territory.

zoro had waltzed into your room and declared that he was going to kick you out of your own room.

“huh?” you had mumbled, too confused at the way he tugged your arm and tried to push you outwards, “no way I’m leaving. fuck no.”

“I need like half an hour. I promise–”

“–if you intend to paint my room green, zoro.” you had barely started when he asked you to leave again. so, obviously, you both bickered for a good five minutes, got yelled at by mihawk cause you two were interrupting his wine drinking hour, and proceeded to bicker in whispers before you had to finally cave in and go out.

now, you were sitting in front of the closed door, and tracing patterns in the hope that sooner or later, your territory will be given back to you.  

“yeah, come on in.” you heard the man finally yell back from the other side, and you sprung up to your feet in part-excitement, part-fear. your fingers tried to turn the sleek metal handle to swing it open. except it wouldn’t open. moving it front and back, your eyebrows bunched when the door refused to budge open.

“what the fuck?” and to your surprise the green-head on the other side yelled back, “jesus, stop trying to break open the door.”

“it won’t open!”

“because I’m trying to open it for you.” he hissed back, “and you’re pulling from the other side. stop it.”

“you stop it.”

“if you could just let me do that for you. fuck–” the door swung inwards with such abrupt, wicked force that you almost kissed the ground face-first. glaring up at the man, you seethed, “what was that for?”

“i was trying to be a gentleman.”

you straightened up, squaring your shoulders defensively, “don’t. you’re barely a fully-functioning man.”

while you were waiting for him to counter you with his regular flirting disguised as hostility, instead his face softened and he apologized, “sorry. come on in?”

“huh?” your shoulders went slack, eyes narrowing at his broad figure as you walked past him and into the room.

the lights were dim.

“what’s this?” your eyes scanned the place, he had made a pillow fort on the ground with whatever haphazard sheets and pillows you had been hoarding in the room. the tv in your room showed a still from netflix: Ten Things I Hate About You.

you bent down, thumb and forefinger raising the sheets upwards to properly see inside, you saw packs of chips and instant ramen, coke and chocolates stashed to the side.

still frozen, you found him meekly call out your name, “do you hate it? do you? you do, right?” you heard the door lock behind you, “i can undo it, it’ll take me like ten minutes tops. it is literally not a big deal, i’ll take it down.” his voice dropped down to a whisper, “jesus fuck, I told nami this was stupid.”

he knelt next to you, forearms stretched forward as if he was itching to pull the flimsy housing to shreds. your hand grabbed his, face turning to meet his shy one.

“you did this for me?”

“uh,” he hesitated, “remember, blondie said no going out. so, I thought i’d try… this?” his voice grew weak, “you hate it.”

“you did it for me?” you repeated, almost in disbelief.

he sighed methodically, “who else?”

a grin broke on your face, “i didn’t take you for a romantic, roronoa.”

he shrugged off the goosebumps that threatened to break on his body at your reaction, “pfft. whatever. it’s not a… it’s not a big deal. nami helped… so, yeah.”

“you even put on my one of my favourite movies.”

“yeah, yeah.” the sportsman stood up, walking away from you to duck inside the fort and arrange the food items. but you could see his ear-tips growing redder, coy eyes carefully avoiding yours, “you’re, uh, you’re welcome.”

“but if you’re trying to impress me.” you followed suit, “this is not gonna work.”

he turned back to stare at you. a deer in headlights. “’s not?”

“well, I know you’re not a romantic. nami surely is though, it seems.” you settled down on the comfy mattress, turning your body so that it faced the wall the tv was plastered on, “i know this won’t happen again once we’re actually dating.”

“hey, it’s not like I’m not romantic at all. see, i’ve been doing well these couple of months. i think?” he tried to defend but you cut him, “you’re off season right now. once you have your five a.m. trainings and regular matches, you’d forget I even exist. you forget to eat, to fucking breathe when it comes to your game. a whole ass human?” you found yourself scoffing, “you would give up in a day. and that’s me just speculating based on observing you from afar per these past few months.”

he fell silent, probably reeling from your accurate observation. you sighed, trying to ease the unnecessary tension you had created, “i’m not attacking you, zoro.”

features downcast, lips pulled into an emotionless straight line. he repeated, “you’re speculating based on observing me from afar per these past few months?”

you probably should have drawn the line here, probably should have said okay and turned on the movie. but you were so well-versed in the language of self-destruction that someone should arrange a fucking pulitzer for you.

“you’re a sportsman first, son next.” you prayed your voice held atleast an inch of sympathy as you did a neat, little character assassination of the poor man. “as much as I appreciate the gesture, I am not sure where lover falls on that priority list. you like the chase, the idea… that i am something grand.” you stilled, “but i’m not. i am not an olympic medal, or a grand slam title. i'm just some woman.”

“you’re not just some woman.” he breathed slowly. “i suppose you have a point. i am not a lover. my hands find the racket before they find a bouquet, my words find silence before they do declarations of love. i- i don’t how to… just love.” he repeated to plead his case.

and this was it.

you barely held your breath as the man next to confirmed just who he was. he was not a lover. he was the number one on the global charts. and how selfish had you been to demand that he be anything but that demon on court?

“but,” zoro proved you wrong. “i wouldn’t have sacrificed long days and sleepless nights for just some woman. you underestimate how much you mean to me.” his breath grew strained, words unsure as if it was the first time he was telling the truth, “five years is a long, long time to come back home and yearn for your arms.”

you didn’t turn your head to gawk at him even though every cell in you wanted to. every inch of you wanted to turn your head, grab his face in your smaller palms and ask him to confess just how much you meant to him. but you were not sure you could listen to him come up empty handed like a fish out of water. you were not sure you wanted to find out just how easily roronoa zoro could break your heart.

but as the two of you fell into silence, your eyes zeroed in on the zooming in and out title card on tv instead, “let’s jus’ watch.”

“you mean everything to me. always have, always will.” you felt his palm on yours, and you flinched at his careful touches. pulling your hand back to your chest, you felt the familiar speeding up of your heart against your ribcage, “don’t. zoro, please.”

“don’t what?” he tried to ask, tried to turn toward you with anticipation making a home in his irises and vile thoughts on his lips.

don’t what? you tried to find the answer to the very same question. don’t what? what did you want to say to him? was it “please don’t make me think you could love me all over again.” or “please don’t break my heart again.” or just a simple “don’t say another word or i’d find myself risking it all for you. and i cannot stand to be the fool who fell for you yet again.”

just a series of unfortunate ‘agains’, it seemed.

instead, you turned your body towards his, tentative hands coming up to hold his face in yours before falling back to the mattress. you raked in a forbidden sigh, the sound so loud in the eerily quite room. finally looking at him, you found yourself growing dumber.

somehow, like this – vulnerable – he looked like just another twenty-two year old. not a world champion. not somebody capable of destroying you.  

“i am not sure i’m ready to get my heart broken by you again.” you confessed slowly, like a coward. “i am not sure i can celebrate my next birthday, just to beg some meaningless god above for you once more.”

“then don’t.” his eyes drifted downwards, heartsick fingers twitching as they inched closer to your warmth. his words were low, like yet another coward. “don’t ask for me back if i break your heart again.”

was it that simple?   

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

26th of october, 8:09 a.m.

you woke up with open packets and stacked cups of ramen on the floor, some episode of friends blaring on the tv and zoro stirring you awake.

sunlight filtered through the window, streaming in and pouring through the linen onto the man in front you. he was pretty, achingly so. his hair was tousled, lips parted, and thick brows bunched together like he was playing a match right now, “wake up.”

“huh?” rubbing your eyes, you tried to blink sleep away but instead grew more confused the longer you ruminated about his words, “what?”

“up and runnin’.” he repeated, “i need you.”

“need me?” your face contorted to show pure, unadulterated confusion, “zoro, ‘slike eight a.m.? can’t you wait a while?”

something nostalgic stirred within you as he smiled and bent down to face you easily. did the sun always get caught against his frame like he was a deity with a chokehold on you?

his smile was easy-going, and suddenly, you were fourteen year olds planning to ‘run away’ from home because you wanted to see the world. his voice shook you out of the daze, “get your head out of the gutter. didn’t mean it that way.”

“huh?” you couldn’t even find yourself growing offended amid your sleep-infused, hazed state. “what do you mean then?”

he tugged on your arms to help you sit up, “we’re going on a road trip.”

“we… are?” your expression grew awry, “where?”

“pack up and meet me outside,” he stood up, “you’d find out once we get there.” 

“but zoro, hey–” you tried calling out. but it was futile as he walked out of the room, and you stay seated in the mess of sheets and pillow and tried to make sense of what was and what is.

5:42 p.m. 🍓attempt 04: next destination: love!

zoro stared at his phone for what seemed like an eternity. your gaze shifted from him to the deserted road and back to him. the dull sun inching near the horizon skeptically as if watching you two making a fool of yourselves. the winds were warm, and your road-trip was in the hands of an absolute idiot.

you slumped back into the leather, muttering, “should’ve never let you navigate.”

“let me concentrate, woman.” he huffed as his forefinger and thumb zoomed in on the unknown streets on his maps.  

“how do you ever go anywhere?! your navigation powers are in the negatives.” tone haughty, you turned around to stare at him, “what kind of grown ass man gets confused on google maps? it literally said go straight!”

“i did go straight.” he turned to stare at you, tone just as haughty. “and i have a driver usually, i don’t drive by myself.”

“you went straight?” you repeated, somewhat amused by his ability to get lost on a straight highway. you craned your head, eyes peering past the black, tinted windows to stare at the deserted road, “and we ended up here? near a ghost town?”

“hold on.” he shifted his attention to the useless app pulled up on his phone screen. his face bunched up in irritation, throwing his phone on the dash-board before shifting the gear to start moving, “no point staying in one place, let’s keep movin’ and we will eventually figure it out.”

“figure what out?” you groaned, slumping back all over again, “atleast tell me where we’re going.”

“surpr–” you cut him off, “there would be no surprise if we never reach it!”

“okay, fair.” he breathed in slowly as the SUV made its way down the deserted road, passing by curated farms only inhabited by scarecrows. he sighed, “if we don’t figure out the road by nightfall, i’ll tell you.”

10:53 p.m.

“so,” zoro avoided your heated gaze, finally admitting the truth, “guess we’re lost."

“yes. yes we are, roronoa.”

“and it’s nightfall, so, i should tell you the destination.”

“yes. yes you should, roronoa.”

“don’t use that tone with me.” he tried meekly and your eyes narrowed in response, “why? are you scared?”

“no.” he cleared his throat, trying to sound like his usual self as he looked around in the lonely diner. the wooden table was rickety, the theme of the diner felt vintage-y, but in a way that was more unused than vintage. a lone, old woman waited behind the counter as you both munched on your dinner. once done with his inspection, he continued, “but it’s unnerving. you sound like nami, and she’s a witch as far as i know. red-head, you know.”

“you have moss-green hair, roronoa.”

“witches support witches.” he emphasized, and in return, a witch-like laugh past your lips, “you should be unnerved. good, because i feel like i have no choice but to sacrifice you in a satanic ritual to go back home now.”

the old woman behind the counter looked at you with utter dread in her eyes but you were too busy stabbing your fork in your grilled cheese, “now, spill. where were we going?”

he sighed, “home.”

“home?” you repeated, “home?”

“i thought i’d take you back to our childhood home,” his voice trailed off.

“why?”

why that wretched place? the place that become bleak, repetitive once you were left all alone five years ago, once he left in the blink of an eye. you routine had become monotonous after him: badminton court, school, home, practice, home, practice, home, sleep. rinse and repeat. repeat. repeat. repeat.

pursing his lips together, he looked down at his plate, “for old time’s sake, i guess?”

“old time’s sake?”

“there was a time when neither of us hated that little, suburban town.” he grinned, “remember that park with the broken swings?”

“that shit was haunted.” you took a bite, conspiring through a mouthful, “i mean why else was it never fixed?”

he continued, “and that public swimming pool? how was every guard there a creep?”

“except dave.” you nodded in agreement, a slight smile playing on your lips, “dave was cool.” 

"he liked you so much, it was stupid." zoro huffed before popping a french fry in his mouth.

“you're the one to talk. do you remember courtney?” you grinned, shoving an index in his direction, “she had suchhh a huge crush on you in middle-school. it was honestly confusing.”

“why was it confusing?”

“you looked like a kiwi,” and you laughed when his eyebrows bunched together and he almost pouted, “i believe it was you that liked this kiwi.”  

“tch, that was lifetimes ago.” your voice softened as he stayed quiet, the two of you just looking at each other as if registering each other���s silence as the only, absolute truth. the knife lodged in your grilled cheese slipped past your grip and a soft clang rang out as it hit your porcelain plate. you hummed, “should’ve told me we’re going back. i would have helped you navigate, zoro.”

“’sfine.” he shook his head, right hand coming up to scratch the itch away and re-set the strands of hair, “we can just head back. if we leave now, we’d reach by dawn. it’s pointless to go back to that old town now.”

you sighed, fingers interlocking as you slumped back against the worn out seat. the booth was cold against your back, the light bulb flickering momentarily as the two of you existed in a place far removed from reality, a place where the two of you were just twenty-somethings eating dinner at a worn-out diner.

“are you done eating?” you asked once he pushed his plate away. he nodded and you found yourself tugging his arm to leave the diner.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, confused, as he trailed after you. you glanced back once, “if we keep moving forward, we’d probably figure it out, right?” you stilled, turning fully to face him, “let’s go home, yeah?”

if roronoa zoro could, he would follow you to the miserable depths of hell. what was a small town compared to that?

he nodded, “yeah.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

27th of october, 6:29 p.m.

“this is it, huh?” you stared at the massive suburban home in front of you. the lawn was trimmed, kept nice and clean as you two stood in front of what was once your humble abode.

your family had sold the place once you expressed that you wanted to move away to do better in your profession, and you had never had the heart to come back and check who bought the place or who didn’t.

“wanna walk around town?” zoro offered his palm, albeit a bit hesitantly, “let’s see what has changed.”  

well, that small creak behind your middle school had dried up, now littered with popped soda cans and torn packs of chip. cigarette butts stuck between jagged rocks and dried leaves. the ‘haunted’ park was still not fixed, but you saw little children running around, the scarfs against their tiny frames flying behind them momentarily as they chased each other around. and the leaves on the ground stirred like they were alive under their light footsteps. the old public badminton court had been renovated, it seemed, and the streetlights had been upgraded to a softer orange-y shade rather than the harsh white you both grew up under.

“they made another mall where the theatre was.” zoro commented as you both walked by what used to be your old cinema hall.

“you remember the theatre?” you asked as your eyes raked over the looming white structure with faces of celebrities plastered onto hoardings with the bold declarations of ‘now playing’.

“of course,” he shrugged, muscled arms methodically going up and down, “we had our first date there.”

“it wasn’t a date. you told me you wanted to catch the movies and then you tried to hold my hand for the next two hours.” you emphasized, kicking the dried twigs on the sidewalk. zoro joined in, lazily kicking fallen leaves and scoffing, “perona said it was. i even bought you caramel popcorn.”

and you found yourself giggling, “you even remember the flavour?”

“i remember everything.” his tone appeared to be nonchalant, “a white tank-top with strawberries on it and a blue-wash jeans, that’s what you were wearing.”

you lips pressed together, “can’t believe you remember that.” you came up to softly poke his side, “who would’ve thought you’re a romantic?”

“yeah, yeah.” he rolled his eyes, biting down an infectious smile, “i just have a good memory.”

“good memory?” you scoffed, “how come you’re such a bad navigator then?”

“tch, i’m just a bit geographically challenged.”

you laughed as your footsteps fell one in front of the other, and he trailed behind wordlessly.

as zoro saw you walk in front of him, your dainty hands interlocking so you could stretch them overhead and the way you looked back at him to beckon him towards you, so as to follow you faster. all of it made his heart twist unnaturally in the pit that was his chest. all of it.

next, you both passed your old high-school. standing at the metallic fence, the sun dipped far below the horizon as the streetlights behind you flickered and came alive. the two of you stood behind the metallic, looking at the buildings that had seen you grow in it’s hallways. when you sighed, the air fogged up just a tiny bit, “your blue jersey from state championships, and black jeans. white adidas too.”

“hm?” zoro cocked his head to your side, and you continued, “that’s what you were wearing on our not-date.”

“you remember?”

you pressed your forehead to the metal, the cold fence digging indentures onto your forehead, “of course i remember. i actually have a good memory.”

the two of your stood in frigid silence and the nightly winds grew stronger around you both. you pulled back, turning your face towards zoro, “it’s growing cold, wanna head back to the car?”

his thumb came up to ease away the red markings on your forehead, the friction of his touches melting away the cold essence of the metal. once he was satisfied with his damage control on your forehead, he nodded, “one more pit stop, then, let’s head back.”

10:02 p.m.

the car was parked in the middle of the field where you had spent reckless evenings just like this with zoro five years prior, to the very field where you had last seen him before he left without a word.

you remembered that cruel night as if it was your whole existence. it might as well have been considering how many time you had replayed the same night in your head over and over and over again, wondering if you had done something stupid.

you had sneaked out of your home, and he had sneaked here after his practice was finally over. his hair was sweaty, boyish features coloured a brutal shade of petrified as he approached you under the night sky.

“what’s wrong?” you had asked once you had noticed his downcast eyes and his shivering hands.

“nothing.” zoro had pressed his lips into a thin smile, “’m just tired from the practice.”

“oh?” you held his palm in yours, pressing a sweet kiss to it, “don’t worry, soon you’d win the state championship and then we would have all the time in the world to hang out, right?”

maybe you should have understood it right then when roronoa zoro simply nodded and looked away you. he had never been a good liar anyways. 

that night, you both had sat down on the ground. staring up at the night sky, you had traced the constellations with your finger-tips and made false promises of a candied future that never came by. the soft grass under you both had tainted your cream coloured shorts green that day. yet another cruel reminder of him, yet another proof that he and you were real, yet another physical evidence of the love that once was.

“why’re we here?” you couldn’t be bothered masking up the irritability in your voice. the raw edges of hurt cut right back your mortal body as you stepped out of the passenger seat.

“c'mon.” that’s all zoro said as he lend you a hand and helped you climb the car’s roof top.

“zoro.” you repeated sternly, but he just helped you up without much explanation. once you were perched on the metallic frame, he climbed up and your voice momentarily wobbled, “a-are we sure the roof’s not gonna break?”

“no, ‘snot.” he clarified, slowly inching closer to you till you could feel his body warmth against your arm.

tilting your face upwards, you drunk in the sight of the malevolent sky littered with heavy, grey clouds that covered the usual litter of stars; so cruel but so pretty underneath it all.

zoro pulled his knees to his chest, softly perching his chin atop them with a sigh, “pretty, isn’t it?”

“why’re we here of all places?” you pulled your knees to your chest, mirroring his actions.

“it felt wrong to leave without seeing this place once.” he admitted softly, “d’you hate it that much?”

“yes. i do.” you nodded, burying your face against the jagged, scarred skin of your knees. you hated this place, and the pair of green-stained cream shorts in your cupboard were nothing if not the proof of that.

“such a shame,” he sighed, “’s a pretty place.”

“zoro–” but he cut you off, “we’ve changed so much in these five years, haven’t we? let’s get to know each other again.” he lifted his head to look at you, “what’s your favourite hobby?”

you scoffed, “you’re kidding.”

“i’m not.”

“did perona put you upto this?” your eyes narrowed, head still tipped back to stare at the grumbling sky, “or nami.”

“no.” he stressed, “my hobby is probably playing pool now. luffy put me onto it, it‘s kinda cool.”    

“i thought sleeping was your favourite past-time.” you turned to look away from the sky and at him but somehow couldn’t. you sighed, slowly admitting, “that was what you always said in interviews.”

“did you stalk me via interviews?”

you tucked your knees one over the other and straightened up, “says the man who watched every match where I got my ass handed to me.”

“i never said i did or didn’t stalk you.”

“you also didn’t say that you won’t break my heart again.” his eyes were boring into yours as you turned your face to finally find his, “you just said to not pray for you back.”

“would you believe me if i told you i won’t break your heart?”

traces of sleep lingered in his eyes, patterns from guilt long-gone-by traced onto his cheeks. you realized with a certain ache that you would probably believe this man if he told you he made the colosseum in his past life, and that he was Genghis Khan re-incarnated. but the fact that he won’t break your heart again? doubtful.

you turned your face back to the thundering clouds. they flashed a myriad of colours and loud sounds enveloped your mortal figures as they churned impatiently above you. you heaved in a breath. slowly exhaling, you asked, “when i lost women’s doubles against the boa sisters, you know what they said to me?”

you believed he knew the answer, being an interview-stalker himself. but he played along, “what?”

“they asked me if you broke up with me because I threaten your legacy as number one, zoro.” a deep sigh passed you by, “since i’m still number two, and from the looks of it they don’t think i’ll be one any time soon.” a mirthless laugh escaped your lips, “honestly, i don’t think I’ll be one any time soon.”

“do you really think i give a crap about shit like that?” zoro raised his face fully, widened eyes looking at you as if you had just accused him of skinning men alive.

“why else would you leave everything behind to be number one, roronoa?”

to you it was clear. he wanted to be number one, so, he left everything behind to be it. simple as that. he wanted to go after his dreams, so, he sacrificed everything he loved. you just happened to be unfortunate enough to be one of those things he loved. simple as that.

“i promised someone.” he finally admitted when you stayed silent, “back when i was in foster care.”

“what?” you found yourself turning your face to look at his, and the man who stared back at you seemed to be a man ravaged and hunted, like a mere prey for guilt.

roronoa zoro had never kept any secrets from you. never. not when he met you as a kiwi-looking middle-schooler at thirteen, and not when he was about to be twenty-three a decade later. no secrets other than his past in foster care. you knew mihawk adopted him when he was eleven, and perona when she was fifteen but no more than that. his past in the foster-care, that one was off-limits.

no questions, no answers.

and you had never pushed. it was something he wanted to forget and you’d be damned if you brought his demons to his under the pretence of harmless curiosity. that was it.

no questions, no answers.

then why was he speaking of it now?

“i only had this one friend. no. she was more like a sister, really.” his eyes hardened, “kuina. she was obsessed with this game, and i hadn’t even heard of it. every fucking time she got her hands on the tv to the communal room, she would turn on sports channel and tear through them till she found one playing re-runs of badminton.”

your muscles ached, and suddenly you were reminded of the air you had ceased to breath in. zoro continued, “she used to drag me to play, and then she used to beat my fucking ass at it. every fucking time. then, one night…” his voice grew thicker, like tar lodged right in his larynx, “she told me that one day, she would make it out of that shitty foster system and she would be number one.”

“somehow, seven year old me thought it would be fun to argue with her. so, i told her ‘no, i’d be number one and you’d be watching.’ she told me no. she had every right to. she was a better player than I was. she deserved this more than i do.”

“zo,” your hand found his bicep as his eyes glossed over, “you don’t have to tell me.”

but you didn’t know any player by the name of kuina, so, it didn’t take you long to guess where the story was headed. somehow, you stomach still dropped when zoro spoke the next part aloud, “she died a day later. ran into the fucking street while chasing the shuttle that the wind blew over. died on the fucking spot.”

“zoro.”

“i made a promise. a-and she was my sister.” 

“zoro.” and you moved to engulf him within your arms. you felt him shudder under you, face pressed to your chest in a bleak effort to hold back tears as you held him tighter and tighter against yourself. as if your weak, mortal body could undo the past or stop him from the torment that was his own mind.

“i’m sorry.” your words paled in comparison to the feelings that brewed within the depths of your stomach. as if to reflect the words you couldn’t utter, drops of rain poured down onto you both mercilessly, as if the skies were mourning.

“i’m sorry.” you repeated, arms moving haphazardly to hold him to yourself closer. his hand moved with just as much desperation, trying to clutch onto you as if you were the only tangible thread of sanity left within him, as if your touch was all that grounded him, kept him alive.

“i- i can’t, i won’t lose you.” he mumbled into your skin, “i won’t let it happen. not again.”

he raised his face to look at you and bloodshot eyes met yours. his hair stuck to his forehead, lips quivering and you couldn’t tell which drops were tears and which rain on his soaked face.

your eyes racked over his frame. from his uncaring hair, to the eyes that had grown weary far too young, to the same pair of lips you had ached to call home, and finally the arms that you had yearned for much the same for the past five years.

“zoro?” you leaned towards him as your voice grew weaker. rain drops on your lips clung helplessly as he followed your voice, face falling forward till your foreheads were mere hairsbreadth apart, “y-yeah?”

why did your breath sound so strained? how come you could feel your heart pumping wildly against the bones lodged in your chest? how could you taste the metallic taste of blood and rain on your lips like as you heaved out ragged words?

you bit your lip to stop it from quivering helplessly. words failing to voice what not even your brain could, you asked for similar candied lies, “say you won’t break my heart again.”

words desperate, he nodded, “i won’t.”

“no,” your breath grew more ragged as each second passed you by, “no. swear on it.”

his calloused palm came to rest on your cheeks, forehead touching as he closed his eyes shut. “i swear on it. i, roronoa zoro, promise to never break your heart again.”

“and if you do?”

“you’re more than welcome to break my skull with my own racket. plummet it down really hard.”

a small smile cracked at your lips, “really?”

“promise.” he hummed. and as he leaned forward to catch your lips against his in a sickly, sweet routine, you pulled back.

he barely had the second to react before you crashed back into him. you couldn’t wait any longer. your lips against his in a clash of teeth and lips and tongue and the faint taste of rain on your skins.

“’s pouring.” he panted, words barely being processed in your lucid state, “wan’ you s’bad though. so, so fucking bad.”

the next you knew, your wet back met the leather backseat of his car.

the sportsman hovered over you momentarily. and next, all you felt was his naked skin pressed to yours, his calloused palms tracing patterns long-forgotten to your sides as he gulped down anything you had to offer. any cries, any grudges, any desires.

you pushed him away just to be able to breath, but air seemed to be the last priority on zoro’s mind as he caught your lips against his in a methodical, little game all over again. panting against your pretty lips, his fingers tried to rid you of your soaked jeans and panties. and all of it was so lewd, so unbearably lewd.

from the sounds of his skin on yours, the sound of the rain violently crashing against the tinted windows and the sounds of his desperate huffs and pants as he tried to manhandle you and get rid of the whatever unholy layers separated you from his feral touches.

“z-zoro,” you stuttered helplessly and the man that peered down at you resembled more a demon ready to fester on the last bit of your lucidity rather than the man you loved.

“c’mere.” he husked, and within moments he was under you. laying prettily on the backseat as your honeyed heat hovered only inches away from his pretty lips. as he stared up at you, his strong arms wrapped around your hips and he pulled you to his lips.

“fuck,” his eyes rolled back as he ran an experimental flick of his tongue against your core, and you flinched, already pulling back from him.

and how could you blame roronoa zoro for tightening his grip against your thighs and fully seating you over his face?

“none of that hoverin’ shit.” he declared in a series of hot pants against your drenched cunt, “let me eat my girl out properly.”

“z-zoro,” you bucked forward as his lips attached around the sensitive nub, sucking like he knew your untimely demise was his very duty. strong fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he ate you out like a man starved, like a man ravished.

it was all so messy, all so untamed, feral. just a mix of spit, your honeyed fluids and his insane determination to make you unravel at the tip of his tongue.

he sneaked in a hand, forefinger and thumb pinching the nub as his tongue delved deeper into your velvety hole. your eyes rolled back as his strokes stayed unrelentless against your heat and you found yourself falling apart at his preying touches, “oh my god, zo. ‘m gonna fuck–”

“cum f’me.” he rasped against you, the other hand coming down to smack the fat of your ass. you ass recoiled under his pressure and you jolted as he rubbed the stinging area better. hot tears pricked at your eyes as he brought down a unrelenting hand at the same strawberry-red patch of skin. the pain mingled in with the methodical strokes of his tongue and the messy rubbing from his fingers pushed you past your limit.

your walls spasmed, sickly sweet dew pooling at his lips as you bucked forward with a strangled cry in your throat, “zoro, zoro, zo.”

you weren’t quite sure if you imagined it, or if you truly felt roronoa zoro smirk against your aching cunt before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses onto the damage he had done.

as you tried to catch your breath, zoro kissed – no, devoured – your clit. your throbbing bundle of nerves caught between his lips dangerously, he sucked on it as you bucked and keened over him, “one more. c’mon, baby.”

“no, please.” you tried to cry out but the maddened man could hear nothing over the blood rush against his ears and the ecstasy of your orgasm on his tongue. clenching his eyes shut, all he could focus was on the way you squirmed over him. trying to run away? pushing him away?

he couldn’t help but grin like a man gone far too gone because this was like a challenge, and what did roronoa love if not challenges? you were practically begging him to eat you till you cried and begged him to let you go, were you not?

“z-zo.” your voice failed you at your fourth orgasm and all you could feel was the muscle pushing in and out of your sore, aching cunt and his fingers pulling on your nipple so, so meanly. “z-zoro,” you tried again, this time without stuttering, “you’re s’mean, zo.”

“am i?” the way he sounded, you felt like only more torture was on your way, “am i so, so mean?”

you nodded, tears rolling down your pretty face as he thumbed your sore clit and cooed, “sorry, baby.”

“y-you’re not sorry,” you hips spasmed at his careless touches and you threw your head back to hold back a cry, “you’re n-not sorry at all.”

“’m not,” he admitted cockily, pulling you upwards so he could press kisses to your sore thighs, “only i get to ruin my girl.”

“y-your girl?” you sounded so out-of-it, so innocent with the way he had fucked you dumb. wobbly lips, teary eyes and hoarse voice. god, he loved you. he nodded, peering at you as if breaking it down for you, “my girl.”

pulling your quivering thighs off of him, he sat up and softly placed you on his lap. when you met his pussydrunk face, his lips were drenched off of your essence. he wiped his face off the back of his hand, then using the same hand to pull your jaw forward to kiss you senseless all over again.

his mushroom tip sat hotly against your inner thigh, smearing the glossy precum all over your soft skin. as zoro battled his tongue against yours, your nimble fingers toyed with his flushed cock-head. as you softly thumbed the slit, zoro found himself whimpering against your pouty lips, slowly pulling back.

“ah, fuck.” he breathed in slowly, eyes rolling back as you finally stroked his dick. you met his eyes definitively as you brought up your soft palm to your mouth. spitting on his soft skin, you brought it back to his angry shaft nestled against your thighs.

moving it up and down, your face dipped down to his neck to bite down on his pulse. instead of whimpering the way he was, his strong hand came to push your head harder against his tanned skin. he rasped, “harder.”

and you sunk your teeth into his skin with enough force to break his skin, just to find the man under you stutter and his white seed to coat your hand. his hips stuttered, eyes clenching shut as realization set in, “f-fuck. shit hah, i came?”

growing cocky at the way he came undone, you bit down a teensy bit harder. until you felt the sweet taste of iron on your lips and you pulled back to see a small droplet of blood beading at his neck. but before you could apologize, zoro noticed your crimson hued lips. pulling you towards him, he revered in the sweet metallic tang of his blood against your tongue. madman.

the sportsman hummed against you as he pulled your sore hips upwards and positioned his cock to nudge your slit ever-so-slowly.

“mmph, zo–” you tried to speak but his mushroom tip got caught against your clit so deliciously. moaning, he guided his dick to finally push past your hole and your jaw went slack at the sinful stretch.

hair sweaty and clinging to your skin, your head was thrown back as he pistoled his dick in with slow circular motion of his hips, and you tried to ground himself by digging your nails into his shoulders. zoro grinned, his canine on display unabashed, “feel good?”

your jaw slacked open, just for nothing to come forth other than half-coherent jumbles of his name as his tip kissed your sugary sweet spots with the urgency of a madman. shallow thrusts into your cunt only resulted in persistent prodding of his tip against your g-spot. his thumb pressed debauched words to your clit as your hips moved on their accord, with only one goal: to forget anything but his ungodly thrusts into your rueful cunt.

“feel s’good, zo. feel so, so good hah mhph–” you babbled, nodding as he moved your hips up and down to fill you up and leave you empty over and over and over again. a hand snaked upwards to pull at your roots, tipping your head back so that he could sink his teeth and brand up your soft skin just over the column of your throat. 

“feel good?” he repeated, eyes almost crossing over at the crimson mark on your neck. if you felt like you were losing sanity, there was no need to feel lonely cause zoro trailed not farther behind. he laughed, bringing you down harder on his shaft, “feel good, baby? does my girl feel good?”

you nodded, eyes clenching shut as his cock massaged your gummy walls and his thumb tortured your poor, aching clit so well.

the familiar feeling built within you again, like a fire that burnt you to a crisp from within. your walls spasmed, head thrown back, drooling as roronoa zoro made it his life’s purpose to fuck you as hard as he could. to a point, where, you felt like he was just holding back to not break you.

“l-look at me, angel.” his hand squished your cheek mercilessly, pulling your face down just to press a mocking peck to your pouty, drooling lips and laugh when you jolted from the orgasm, “oh my g-god, zoro! fuck aah, hah shit shit shit.”

you slumped forward, sweaty forehead pressed to his heaving chest while he continued to fuck into your overused cunt. his thrusts grew weaker – erratic – before he painted your walls white.

“shit, baby.” the man laughed, his chest vibrating from the stuttered falsetto, “one more?”

“zo…” and the way you looked up at him so teary-eyed, shaking your head no. another challenge?

so now, of course zoro had you pressed in such a mean mating press, mumbling against your swollen kiss-bitten lips, “you’re doing so well, baby. ‘m so proud of my girl.”

“y-yeah?” you stuttered out, batting your tear-stained eyelashes so well that zoro couldn’t help but lap at the tear-drops cascading down your cheek, “mhm, course angel. take one more for me, can you?”

you nodded as if you had a choice.  

his chest pressed up against yours, broad hand pulling your knees so far high so that he could plunge in and out of you so very easily. zoro panted with every slow drag of his shaft against your addictive, sugar-sweet walls because every small movement seemed to set you alight. your cunt grabbed at him hungrily, clutching him so tightly as if you refused to let him go.

managing a few more thrusts, he brought your weak hand upto his throat and pressed your hand onto his pulse. you stared at him, wide-eyed, before pressing harder. as your soft hand pushed harshly against his pulse, zoro pushed into your heat harder with a low whimper.

his hips sputtered as splashes of white painted your walls all over again.

the sportsman heaved, dipping his sweaty face down to the crook of your neck and pressing his body weight on yours. after what seemed like eons of just catching up his breath, zoro slowly pulled out and you gasped at his absence.

“are you okay?” he pressed a chaste kiss to your collarbone before trailing upwards and pressing another to your cheek. your muscles went slack under him, soreness creeping up the tendrils of your flesh as you fluttered opened your eyes, “’m tired.”

“already?” the man grinned, licking a soft stripe up your jaw. your weak hands pushed him away, groaning, “already?!”

“sorry, c’mere.” settling beside you in the cramped seat, he pulled you to his chest. humming faintly as his fingers softly caressed the damp tressed and you melted against the feel of his warm skin against yours.

the soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windows quietened, the morning mist hovering around the car like some forbidden protector and dew clung helplessly to leaves in the field. zoro pulled you closer to himself, his shallow breath against your forehead and his soft fingertips massaging your sore hips, “i think i love you.”

“you think?” your eyes fluttered open, trailing up softly to take in his peaceful expression. you bit the inside of your cheek, stomach churning as you dug your cheek against his chest and nodded, “i think i love you too.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

11th of november, 12:01 a.m.

“go on,” you shoved the cupcake in his direction, the candle light flickering softly and barely holding out against his stuttered breath, “for real?”

“hm,” you nodded, “make a wish, zo.”

“i don’t even have a religion.” he mumbled and you pinched the taut skin of his bicep in retaliation, “jus’ do it.”

“okay, fine. here goes nothing.” he closed his eyes. eyebrows bunching up in concentration and high cheekbones coloured orange from the weak flame. a moment passed by as the two of you stayed huddled on his bed, him praying and you looking at him.

a soft breath and the flame went out. when he opened his eyes, you smiled at him, “what did you wish for?”

“nothing,” he replied softly, calloused fingers interlocking with yours, “think i have everything i could ever need already.”

“happy birthday, zo.” you pecked him and pulled back, but he pulled you back to him.

knock, knock, knock.

“are you both done?” perona knocked at the door, “everyone’s waiting for you out, idiot.”

the next morning your twitter was flooded with the same blurry photo of you kissing zoro at his birthday party.

@/roronoaswifeyy said: yOU TWO ARE MY ROMAN EMPIRE OMG!!! @/sweatytoenails asked: IS THIS ANOTHER PR STUNT?11 OMG I CANNOT TAKE ANOTHER BREAK-UP. @/boaboaboa said: GUYS I THINK THIS PICTURE IS LEGIT, SOMEONE SAW THEM GO ON A ROAD-TRIP TOO

@/monkeydluffyofficial: very proud of zoro to be able to pull such a pretty woman without showering for days on end ❤️😃 @/dailycelebgossip: BREAKING: two-times grand slam winner and current number #1, roronoa zoro confirmed to be going out with his former flame!

@/vinsmokesanjiofficial: we will be releasing an official statement, until then PLEASE STOP TAGGING ME, YOU’RE BLOWING UP MY PHONE. AND @/ynln ANSWER MY CALLS. @/nami_bizconmgmt: like@/vinsmokesanjiofficial said, please wait for the official statement and @/realroronoazoro PICK UP MY CALLS.   

zoro wrapped a strong arm around your waist. sleep lingered in his eyes, and the pattern of the pillow case was imprinted onto his skin instead, “what’re you reading?”

you giggled, “people are losing their mind over the fact that we’re dating.” you looked over your shoulder, “can’t believe a PR stunt got us here.”

“oh, about that.” he mumbled, “nami never asked me to do that, i was just feeling bold that day. paid off pretty well though, didn’t it?”

“huh?” your eyes widened, words sinking in at a much slower rate, “HUH?”

“what?”

“HUH?”

“what?” he repeated with a grin, “it worked, didn’t it?”

“YOU ASSHOLE!” you pushed at him and he just held you tighter against his chest, “mhm, love you too.”

ladies and gentlemen, this is your friendly reminder to not go back to your ex by the way! they don't deserve you and aren't roronoa zoro!  

a/n: i cannot believe this has come to an end!! aaaah took me fucking forever to finish it (and i have like 5 more characters to write for ://) but im so so grateful for anyone who loved this and has shown me that love. thakyou so much you guys! i'd be making an ao3 soon enough so that it's easier to navigate. again, thankyou for keeping up with me <3 tagging: @litlebruh @mist-ixx @briezy04764 @otkuhotgirl [the credit for feral!zoro goes to her] @mars-mizuko @florallyarranged @ayumitho @lyany2k @dietcokefizz @kokanee-readinglist @angelsforever999 @rengokushuaige @imlikeacoffeeconnoisseur @gojoistetti tysm for reading!! you all were so incredibly nice that im sobbing :')) i hope y'all enjoyed this! much love, vix <3 m.list

[gardenschedule]

Paul wrangling John

Brian Epstein made the Beatles PR conscious: he would say, ‘Don’t smoke on stage’ and things like that. I was very pleased that they stopped smoking on stage as I didn’t like it myself. He had no difficulty persuading Paul as he knew instinctively how a band should behave on stage, but John was a rebel and George could be difficult.

Bob Wooler, c/o Spencer Leigh, The Best of Fellas: The Story of Bob Wooler. (2002)

JOHN: The truth about the separation was she kicked me out . . . so I (laughter) was adrift at sea . . . and there was nobody to protect me from myself which is fine. I should be able to look after myself but I never had, and there was Epstein or Paul to cover up for me. I’m not putting Paul down and I’m not putting Brian down. They’d done a good job in containing my personality from not causing too much trouble.

Barbara Graustark, “The Real John Lennon.” Newsweek (September 1980)

JOHN (with mock horror): My “lost weekend”? It lasted for eighteen months. I was like an elephant in zoo, aware that it’s trapped but not able to get out. It’s an extension of the craziness that I’d been doing with the Beatles in Hamburg in Liverpool, but it had been covered up by the people surrounding us. So when I freaked out, there would be Paul or Epstein to say “What he really means is he’s just a normal boy from a normal family who likes to shear sheep.” And the machinery around us would take care of the business. By the time we got to America, we were old hands at it. But if you look back at the Beatles’ first national press coverage, it was because I sent a guy to the hospital for calling me a fag, saying I slept with Brian Epstein.

Barbara Graustark, “The Real John Lennon.” Newsweek (September 1980)

“But all the time Paul, and Brian Epstein we’re always trying to kill me from saying anything. But because I was in so much pain, I’d always get drunk or drugged, and I’d always say something that didn’t suit them. And so always, I would leave a piece of shit amongst the Beatles image. But all the time they tried to kill me and kill me and bring me down to be a Beatle, to be a nice boy, be a Beatle. But if you look from the career of the Beatles, the first national news the Beatles ever got in the English newspapers was when I nearly killed somebody at Paul’s party. So all the famous news the Beatles ever got besides being Go–angels, was when I did something terrible through being in so much pain. So they could never keep me down.”

Oct 1971 - John and Yoko interviewed during John’s 31st birthday celebration by reporter Takahiro Imura

"I constantly saw Lennon and McCartney together because Paul came along to see that I wasn't rude to John - who I can't say I got on with. Paul didn't want me to upset John."

Sir Joseph Lockwood - Northern Songs: The True Story of the Beatles Song Publishing Empire, Brian Southall, 2008

Sometimes, though, I certainly thought John was being a complete idiot. Even though I was younger, I would try to explain to him why he was being stupid and why something he’d done was so unlike him. I remember him saying things to me like, ‘You know, Paul, I worry about how people are gonna remember me when I die.’ Thoughts like that shocked me, and I’d reply, ‘Hold on; just hold it right there. People are going to think you were great, and you’ve already done enough work to demonstrate that.’ I often felt like I was his priest and would have to say, ‘My son, you’re great. Just don’t worry about that.’

Paul McCartney, in The Lyrics (2021).

It came as a welcome relief that John and Paul, along with Neil Aspinall, planned a quick trip to New York on May 11, where several press events had been scheduled to announce Apple Records in the States. Friends agreed that getting John away might do him a world of good; being alone, with just Paul to steady him, might have a calming influence. Paul was grappling with his own set of anxieties. “We wanted a grand launch,” Paul said, “but I had a strange feeling and was very nervous.” Drugs, he later admitted, may have been at the root of his problem

Bob Spitz, The Beatles: The Biography, 2005

“The setting is the Blue Angel and Paul McCartney is upstairs talking to some press people, while in the basement is John Lennon shooting his mouth off, well away with the drink or whatever. He said, “Hitler should have finished the job”, meaning that the gas ovens should have been more active than they were. His manager was Jewish and I prevailed upon him to be quiet because the press were upstairs, but he didn’t take any notice of me. I told Paul that John was shooting his mouth off and that the press must not get wind of it. ”

Bob Wooler, c/o Spencer Leigh, Best of the Beatles: The Sacking of Pete Best. (2015)

“The party was at Auntie Gin’s house in Huyton. By now, Paul could afford a marquee in the garden.This is inside the house, where my comedy group, Scaffold, are performing for the guests. John Gorman and Roger McGough are onstage, and I’m photographing reactions to the act. The jokes are going well with Paul, his girlfriend Jane Asher, and an old school chum, Ivan Vaughn, but John Lennon was so pissed he kept shouting, ‘That’s not funny’ (until Paul told him to ‘Shhh!,’ which he did)…” -

Mike McCartney

[After John pours a beer on Chris Montez' head and starts a brawl] Everyone settled down in their seats. Paul McCartney tried to make peace with Chris. Chris said, “Paul sat by me and said, ‘Come on, Chris, let’s be friends….’ “I said, ‘Paul, just get away from me, I don’t want nothing to do with you guys. You know, you pissed me off!” As for Lennon, Chris recalled, “John? I guess he was a wise guy. But I got the sense that, I shouldn’t say this, that he was jealous of who I was or what I did. I don’t know what his problem was, but I didn’t like it too much.”

THE TRUTH BEHIND THE BRAWL BETWEEN JOHN LENNON AND CHRIS MONTEZ IN 1963! EXCLUSIVE!

JOHN: I used to try to get George to rebel with me. I’d say to him, “Look, we don’t need these fuckin’ suits. Let’s chuck them out of the window.” My little rebellion was to have my tie loose with the top button of my shirt undone. Paul’d always come up to me and put it straight.

John

PAUL: There’s a story that I used to straighten John’s tie before we went on stage. That seems to have become a symbol of what my attitude was supposed to have been. I’ve never straightened anyone’s tie in my life, except perhaps affectionately.

The Times Profile of Paul McCartney – 1982

I spoke to Paul about this night many years later, and he confirmed that he and George had been shaken rigid when they found out we were up on the roof. They knew John was having a what you might call a bad trip. John didn’t go back to Weybridge that night; Paul took him home to his place, in nearby Cavendish Road. They were intensely close, remember, and Paul would do almost anything for John. So, once they were safe inside, Paul took a tablet of LSD for the first time, 'So I could get with John’ as he put it- be with him in his misery and fear.

George Martin, With a Little Help from My Friends: The Making of Sgt. Pepper

AW: Isn’t he? Well, you know, of all the people, he comes through a lot of stick. Or a lot of people think he comes through a lot of stick in my book. But that’s the way John behaved. He behaved really outrageously. And Paul used to pour the oil on the troubled waters, as it were. But of all the people, only John, out of all the Beatles, have said that my book is the only book that gives a true insight to what it was to be an early Beatle. I admire him for that.

All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

“We were in a daydream till he came along. We had no idea what we were doing. Seeing our marching orders on paper made it all official. Brian was trying to clean our image up, but, at the same time, he didn’t want us suddenly looking square. He would tell us jeans were not particularly smart and could we possibly manage to wear proper trousers. He literally fuckin’ cleaned us up! There were great fights between him and me, over me not wanting to dress up, and he and Paul wanting me to dress up. In fact, he and Paul had some kind of collusion to keep me straight.

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

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

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis’ face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 25/10/23

prompt: no prompt, must be 480 words or more

pairing/character(s): steddie

part 2 to this post

-

Ever since that night at Hawkins Police Station, Eddie’s felt oddly fascinated by Steve Harrington.

Before, he wouldn’t have noticed the former king as he silently slinks around Hawkins and Hawkins High, but now? Now it’s like he’s everywhere. 

Eddie leaves the trailer park to walk through the woods at night and bumps into Steve, the bags under his eyes heavy as always and eyes blinking back sleep like he’s fighting it. Eddie goes to his dealing table behind school and notices Steve sitting by himself behind some nearby bushes, head tilted back to lean against a tree and eyes closed as he listens to the world. Eddie goes to the Hideout to bother the manager about letting his band play there sometime, and sees Steve sat in a booth in the corner, a couple empty glasses littering his table and a (clearly) fake ID ready and waiting on the table for anyone who questions him.

Eddie’s starting to think they’ve accidentally existed within the same spaces ever since Steve’s fall from grace, and Steve’s just better at fading into the background than his years as Keg stand King would have most believe.

But he doesn’t get the chance to talk to him again until a few months later. He’s at Frank’s diner with Gareth, Jeff and Freak when he sees Steve walk in, shoulders hunched in a little and face carefully blank. He’s alone.

Eddie lets himself drift out from the heated conversation the others are having (a debate about which monsters their next DnD session will involve once they enter Saltmarsh), and watches Steve as he makes his way over to a booth in the corner, a few tables away from any other patrons.

A waitress makes her way over immediately, and Eddie can just about hear her as she greets Steve with a pet name (honey), and smiles like she sees him regularly. Steve says he’s waiting for someone, and his voice is a little wobbly.

A couple minutes later, Eddie’s just let himself become reabsorbed and amused at the turn of the debate amongst his friends when Chief Hopper enters the diner. On instinct, Eddie’s back straightens a little, and his friends give him triplet looks of suspicion.

“What’ve you done now?” Jeff asks with a roll of his eyes, and Eddie frowns at him in mock offence.

“I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing. I think the Chief’s here for someone else, actually.” He defends himself, just as Hopper walks by. Hopper scoffs and shakes his head.

“Yeah, not here on police business, for once. Stay outta trouble and outta my business, Munson.” He says quietly, and Eddie just watches him as he predictably walks over to Steve. Before he sits down opposite Steve in the booth, Eddie watches Hopper clap a firm hand down on Steve’s shoulder and squeeze, resulting in Steve’s tense posture relaxing a bit.

Very fascinating.

Last time, Eddie didn’t get the chance to see their dynamic, so he can’t help but watch.

“You don’t have to be so paranoid he literally said he’s not here on police business.” Gareth teases him after a couple more seconds, poking him in the side harshly.

“Hey! I’m intrigued by,” Eddie gestures over at the booth, “all that. Sue me.”

The boys’ follow his gesture and seem to only then notice Steve Harrington in all his shaky glory (see? Like Eddie said, he’s good at blending into the background). They frown.

“Huh, what’s up with that?” Freak mutters, and everyone shrugs.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

The boys roll their eyes at Eddie’s words, and all say something along the lines of ‘sure you will, Ed’ in the least confident voices they can muster. It only eggs Eddie on.

And when Steve gets up to go to the bathroom, he sees his moment.

He’s going to have an actual conversation with Steve Harrington.

Maybe even try to become his friend. And, wow, that’s a thought Eddie from two years ago would’ve shuddered at.

But Eddie from right now is just thinking of ways to have a conversation that won’t send Steve running again.

He’s got this.

-

tagging anyone who explicitly asked in the first bit to be tagged if there's ever more: @devondespresso

if you want to be tagged if i ever write more, lemme know :)

[lolamarlowe65]

Slash x reader

“𝓜𝔂 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓷 𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓮, 𝓶𝔂 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓾𝓫𝓵𝓮.”

“She can take my soul for the record, I don’t give a shit.”

one shot x reader

disclaimers : age gap (modern day slash), smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slash’s feral internal dialogue, cursing, smoking, rough stuff, grown girls stuff <33

4.6k words

AO3 link

iii];)’ .・• ✰ ⋆

y/n pov

I started to work as a staff member for Guns n’Roses a few months ago. Everything is great as fuck. The music, the job, the mood all around the band. In overall, everything is going well. My relationships with the band members were super friendly and they made me feel quickly as if I was part of the gang. But there is one thing. One person. Him. Slash. The moment I started my job here he immediately started teasing me. Nothing big. He tells me how much of a weird chick I am, he gives me smug smiles anytime he sees me as a way of saying “here comes the freak”. It has never felt as if he hates me or anything, it just amuses him to see me rolling my eyes to his puns. When I first discovered Slash, I admit that I developed a crush on him, you know the “rockstar crush”. I didn’t start to work here for that, but seeing him almost everyday was definitely a plus, well, if he didn’t drive me crazy with his provocations. It is a plus, yes, but I actually never thought of trying anything with him. I am a younger chick in whom he’d see no interest, apart from a way of having fun. I wouldn’t mind but that would be too complicated to manage with this job. Honestly, most of the time, his jokes make me laugh. I look at him with a pissed off grin and say “haha” or I stick out my tongue. It became a game between us. To the words of Duff “leave the girl alone man”. Apparently, Slash doesn’t listen to his best friend’s advice because he never stops. If we weren’t so different or if I knew him a little better I would say he’s flirting with me. “What a weird chick you are.” sounds like a love declaration coming from a man with such an attraction for creepy stuff. I do think about it as flirting sometimes. Mostly the days when I'm not in the mood for his jokes I imagine he’s flirting with me, helps me to not actually kill him. Being with a man like him wouldn’t bother me, actually, I would love it. He isn’t only hot and cool. He is interesting, passionate, peaceful but wild and genuinely beautiful. Beautiful on the inside and on the outside.

I am a person that’s pretty impulsive. When I feel frustrated, I will go for it, even if it means breaking my own promises. I try to hold myself back, but I have no desire to be perfect. I smoke, I have a high body count, anger issues, I keep doing the same shits over and over again and failing. But I also have skills that I don’t hide, I am strong minded and the way I see it : it has never really helped me with my relationships to people. Especially men. Labeling me “weird chick” is not original Saul. I’m sure most women are like me. But the world doesn’t see it I guess.

Today, I am not in the mood. We’ve got some problems with the gears, the venue isn’t ready and my hormones are working on me. Everything in me is boiling, every emotion. I can manage my emotions and impulses, hormones are not an excuse to be an asshole. But in this type of job, you have to take a lot of shit from people you don’t like so the band themselves don’t have to. Granted, they had to confront them in order to make their band what it is today but man, this isn’t easy. So, as for today, frustration will be my motto. One person pisses me off, I will send them to their grave.

As if it wasn’t enough, we’ve asked me to bring some guitar gear in Slash’s backstage room. I have purposely avoided him since the start of my shift, which is not easy when you are working for him. So far it seems to work, changing hallways last minute, not going to the crowded places and most importantly, his backstage room. From the glimpses of him I saw thorough the day I could tell you how beautiful he looked. He always does, but today it’s working on me. Which is frustrating me even more because I want to see him as much as I want to avoid him. His style didn’t change much from any other day, the sunglasses, the leather jacket, the hat and one of those shirts he has the secret of. It’s just that today is a day where my mind said fuck off to any type of morals I may try to have and I have to manage it as best as I can.

Before going into his backstage room, I made sure he wasn’t around. As I enter the room and leave his gear I can’t help but stop in front of the mirror before heading out. I contemplate my reflection, my eyes lingering over my body. The sadder part with those days is that I feel like I can’t and will never be understood or loved. This doesn’t bother me the majority of the time because it’s probably true and I have made peace with it a long time ago. My emotions are on the verge on days like those, so I let myself grief this fact. I wouldn’t say I look beautiful. I wouldn’t say I am satisfied with my life right now. Even if it is going slowly in the right direction. I let out a tear thinking of all this and whip it away quickly.

“- Looking good y/n, trying to cosplay a zombie?” Slash laughs.

Shit. Just what I fucking needed.

“- Not today Saul.” i answer, rolling my eyes.

He is standing right behind me, I can see his smug smile and I know his eyes are playful even if they are hidden behind sunglasses.

“- Wow, Saul? Did somebody give you food after midnight?” he jokes.

I turn around and look at him with defiant eyes. He needs to be teached a lesson. You don’t piss y/n off like that. Slash or not Slash. I don’t know what I am about to do, but that’s definitely going to be interesting.

“- Fuck you. Did it ever occur to you that your teasing game might piss me off?” i ask, sassily.

“- And what are you going to do about it?” he teases, again, big smile on his lips.

“- Well… I could do that.” i say in a provocative tone.

I slowly wrap my fingers around the sides of his sunglasses and remove them off his face. I let them fall on the floor. I want to stay defiant to his eyes, I want to keep holding his gaze. Being nice and clean, putting away his sunglasses nicely is not in my scenario today. There’s a look I have never seen on him before. A fire in his eyes. He holds my gaze as hard as I hold his. My breath becomes heavier as I approach my lips dangerously to his. I can feel his chest go up and down heavily. It’s working.

“- See. Pretty annoying right?” i smile.

Fuck. The swift of breath from his lips too close to my smile is actually going to drive ME crazy. What an ass. Making me feel this way. I must stay focused. He smiles back at me, hinting his approval. He understood that we entered a game and he is letting me play. Let’s see how much I can push him before I make him mad. He doesn’t say a word, waiting for my next move. I step back and close the door. I remark that Slash is studying me, looking at my body, his stare lingering over my ass and hips. At this instant, the teasing game turned into lust.

I breathe heavily, getting him to stare back into my eyes.

“- Careful where your eyes linger big boy.” i incite, biting my lower lip.

I approach him again, purposely making him take a step back in the direction of the couch behind him.

“- I could also do that.” i smirk.

I grab his crotch. His cock hardens immediately at my grip. My pussy gets wet at this simple touch. I didn’t know how much teasing and keeping a person on edge could make me feel that much desire. Or maybe it’s Slash. Probably both, this raw, pure, lustful desire. Everything in my head is torn apart and I question everything. Did he start teasing just for fun or was he trying to hold back everything I am about to unleash right now. Was it his way of making me a part of his life? And why didn’t he make me understand this obvious desire we have for each other earlier. Fuck. I need him.

I hear him groan and get even bigger in the cup of my hand. I push him on the couch. A big guy like him wouldn’t flinch from a light push from me. I’m not weak but I did not push him very strongly. He let himself be pushed, waiting for my next move. His legs are spread and I take a seat on one of his thighs.

“- I don’t know what you want from me Saul, but I will take what I want. Is that okay?” i ask languorously.

He doesn’t talk, he just bops his head with an audacious smile, answering affirmatively to my question.

“- Good.” i chuckle.

I dispose my lips on his neck. Biting slightly making sure to leave all the spots my lips went to stay wet with my taste. I start kissing his face, all the spots I can, expect his lips, leaving him on edge, teasing him. As I do just that, I start rubbing my clothed cunt against his thigh. I feel him gasp, both for the frustration on his lips and in his pants. I leave a mark in his neck, right under his ear only for me to go above and nip alternatively on both his ears.

“- Mmmh… Fuck.” i curse in between moans.

I rub against his thigh ruthlessly, my thrusts are short but harsh and my pleasure grows more and more. My back arch and I end up using my hands to support myself on his shoulders. I throw my head back and I hear Slash groan. A frustrated groan, making me even more thrilled. Knowing that at this right moment I own him just for my only pleasure makes me even more horny. His thigh is so comfortable, imagining how his pretty cock must be almost brings me to my release.

It’s getting harder for me to hold on. I don’t want him to touch me, I want to keep him on his limit so I take it upon myself and rub as good as I can on his leg.

“- Saul! Fuck that’s good!” i cry.

I pant heavily and I feel my jeans getting soaked with my cum. My legs shake and squeeze around Saul’s leg and my cheeks are all blushed with my effort.

I won.

Slash looks like he is about to explode. Good for him. He looks mesmerized and embittered. That’s what you get for being a little bitch like that. A wild mess lost in his thought. What a magnificent view.

I kiss his lips very quickly and lightly before smiling while putting myself together. Even if this kiss was quick, I had never felt such soft comfortable lips.

“- See. That’s what you get for teasing me.” i playfully say, getting off him.

Saul stays still on the couch, his eyes on fire and I walk toward the door, happy to have pushed his limit, ready to resist his game.

Slash pov

What a fucking bitch. A beautiful mess, out of breath and still taking away mine. She is lighting herself a cigarette. Like she is gonna get away with this. I can’t hold on anymore, I have to make her mine. I have to have her all for me, I have to fuck her and make her come again but this time around my cock. I have to make her my girl.

Truth is, ever since she started working here she drives me crazy. She is one of those women that don’t give a shit. She has no mind about being perfect, she’s completely detached from reality, she does her things and she doesn’t take shit. She’s a weird chick some might say, but I absolutely adore creepy shits. Her wilderness and emotions are always so honest. I have held back for the past few months because she’s much younger than me. I’ve never felt as if I was worth dating a chick like her and I was sure she would say no. I’d rather tease her and at least have some kind of interactions with her than avoid her all the time.

Before she could open the door I push her against the wall. Her eyes look like a lost puppy. I take the cigarette out of her mouth and throw it in the ashtray on the table. She had all the time she needed to get away, but she stayed here. Back against the wall still high on her orgasm. Watching her pleasuring herself on my thigh was both a torture and delight. I wanted to touch her and make her come with my hands. She refused and left me on edge. The only thought in my head was among the lines of “What a bitch, I want her.” I come back to her and put one of my hands on her waist pushing her more against the wall and the other in her neck, my fingers playing with her jawline. I breathe close to her mouth for a few seconds, teasing her as she did. She seems to take frustration way harder than me because she looks pissed and starved, and this makes me even more out of my mind. I take her lips hungrily, I kiss her, starving for her tongue. Fuck, I shouldn’t be so crazy about her but here she is, moaning in my mouth begging for my tongue to play with hers. Such soft lips. So tender and matching mine perfectly.

“- You shouldn’t have done that y/n. I will not let you get away, so if you wanna go, go now.” i say to her, drunk on her scent.

She moans as I take the back of her thighs and wrap her legs around me. Still against the wall, I wait for her answer while kissing her collarbone.

“- Hmmm… do it.” she almost whispers.

“- Do what?” i tease.

“- For Christ’s sake! Do it! Fuck me fuckhead!” she laments.

“- Your desires are orders madam.” i answer her playfully, smiling in the crook of her neck.

I go back to her mouth, mixing my tongue with hers while I tease her thighs with my hands. I can feel her wet cunt on my lower stomach and her laments desperate to deal with this ache. To hell with it. She deserves it. I rip her thin shirt away to expose her tits to me. She will take my shirt. Fuck it. She doesn’t wear a bra and I can access her perfect tits immediately. I lick and bite them mercilessly, teasing her more and more. I can’t wait to enter her but I just want to hear her beg for me.

“- Saul… mmhm… stop.. mmh… fucking around… mmhm… and fuck me already!” she pants, out of breath.

“- I fucking love the way you curse all the time.” i tell her, biting the skin around her nipple.

I remove her pants and underwear. What a pretty sight. What a pretty cunt. I could make this my meal for the rest of my life. I’d never starve. I put her back against the wall. I want to show her how bad I’ve wanted her for the last months. I want to show her what I wanted to do to her every time she’d pass over me in a hallway. How hungry, how bad I have been craving her. I unbuckle my pants and let my dick free. Her eyes got bigger and she opened her mouth to the view of my hard cock. She looks at it like she got to have a taste of her favorite meal and it drives me crazy. I give her no time to comment before I push her head against the wall kissing her lips as I bury myself deep inside of her. She’s so fucking wet. Fucking hell. I know I’m stretching her out. I can feel it. I love it.

“- SAUL!” she gasps, gripping my back. “It’s so fucking big!”

“- Shh.. I know you can take it. Scream if you need to baby, I don’t give a shit if we hear us.” i answer, moving in and out of her.

I pound into her fast and hard, making her moan each time I shove myself deep into her. She’s so damn hot. She feels so good. That’s it. I’m taking her with me. Her face becomes a mess as she cannot seem to catch her breath correctly. Between kisses, her mouth stays wide open, sometimes, she bites her lips, letting out small whimpers. I love it rough and she’ll love it too. I can tell she already does.

“- Saul… aahh.. that’s fucking good aaahh don’t stop.” she screams.

See? Told you. I give her one last hard pound and lift her up grabbing the back of her thighs. I’m still inside her, my cock hitting her deep every step I take. Her little whines are a melody I am more than happy to work on. She tries her best to hold onto me and makes my hat fall as she moves her arms around my neck. Whatever man, I have been wearing this hat since ages, her, it’s the first time. As I throw her on the couch my dick slips out of her, leaving me without her. What kind of fucking witch is she? Seconds out of her and my cock already misses her cunt.

“- Turn around.” i command, removing my shirt.

She smiles defiantly and executes herself. I waste no time and shove my dick back into her as I push as deep as I can. I keep her head buried in the couch as I mercilessly pound into her. I hear her whimper in pleasure. My mouth next to her ear, laughing, biting it slightly.

“- This is what you fucking get when you’re being a bitch.” i whisper in her ear.

I continue my rough pounding leaving trails of kisses all along her back. I know I’m about to come, how can I not when I’m banging her? Trust me though, I’m far from being finished with her.

“- AAH SAUL! I’M COMING! PLEASE! COME IN ME! FUCKING DO!” i hear her scream, muffled on the couch.

Just what I fucking needed. Hell yeah I will my love.

Not long after I come into her pussy still pounding as I feel her legs shake and her cunt getting tighter. She fucking came all over my cock. Just like I said I wanted her to. I grab her by the hair and bring her to my chest. She turns her head to me. She’s a mess with her hair all over her face, sticking with her sweat. Out of breath and panting for air. So beautiful. So fucking beautiful, as usual. I give her a wet sloppy kiss, removing the hair out of her face.

“- Good girl.” i tease into her ear.

I put her back on my side and lift her up again to sit her on the table. I still need her. I’m hard again like a fucking horny teenager. She makes me into this sex depraved slave succubuses love so much. She can take my soul for the record, I don’t give a shit. She can be the devil, a witch or an alien. To me, she's first and for all the woman I want, the one I desire and I want to be with. Bitch, witch, baby. Something like that. And in her eyes, I’m probably just the fucking dumbass who dared touching her. That’s okay. I’m cool with it. If she always looks at me the way she does now, I’m cool with it.

Sucking on her tits, I shove myself into her again, immediately pounding her hard. Her legs shake uncontrollably so I lock them up around my waist. She lies down on the table playing with her tits, moaning and biting her lips.

“- Oh my god that’s so good. Aaahh… Continue.” she cries.

Putting my hand around her neck I bring her back to my chest. Her back arches frantically at every movement I do inside her. So that’s why she was lying down. I slow down and move little by little inside of her to see how she moves her ass and back around on the table.

“- FUCKING STOP THE TEASING ASSHOLE… AAAH” she whimpers.

She puts her arms behind my neck and lets her nails sink into my back. With her head buried in the crook of my neck I laugh and go back to my hard pace. Hearing her little cries makes me the happiest man on earth. I hold her with one hand on her back and the other in the back of her head. At this instant, it’s like she is all mine. Like she could break if I let her go.

“- There babygirl, take it all, like the good slut you are. I know you love it, don't hold back.” i kiss her forehead before leaving her head to fall back in my neck.

“- AAH FUCK YES THAT’S GOOD! I’M SO FF-UUL IT’S SO B-BIG!” she whimpers.

Her fucking voice drives me crazy. She bites and teases my neck violently as a way to show me she is still holding on. I’m sure my back is all scratched and marked by now, but i’ll let her take everything off of me if it means I can get to fuck her brains out like right now. I groan, knowing I'm almost there, when I feel her legs squeeze around my waist and her back arch I know she’s also about to come again. I embrace her tightly as I screw her as fast and deep as I can.

“- AH…MHH… HAA… HM… SAUL… YES! YES! YES!” she comes screaming my name.

I come in her again. She stays like that for a few minutes. Panting, all naked into my arms. I hear her broken voice laugh slightly.

“- So that was it… all this teasing.” she laughs again.

“- You have no idea how much I wanted to fuck your brains out, teasing me back like that was not a good idea.” i answer.

“- Oh it definitely was a good idea. And I’ll do it again.”

“- No need to. I’m not letting you go. You’re mine now.”

She moves around to be able to look at me in the eyes. Her arms still wrapped around my neck and her cheeks still all flustered.

“- I am?” she smirks.

This smirk could make me fuck her again right now. Yes she is. I have been tortured by her presence for the past few months, now that she’s here I'm not letting her go. I move around to get a cloth to clean her up with. When I go back to her I catch her shy smile as she turns her head on the side.

“- Okay.” she almost whispers, smiling slightly.

I can’t resist taking her chin to turn her head to me to kiss her deeply. There was a chance it was a pure unique act of lust for her. A chance she’d left and say “never again”. A chance I’d taste her pussy only once with my cock, trying to forget how much I want to eat her out. A chance she’d realize I was older than her and she’d get away from me. Looking at the clock on the wall I realize it’s time for the show. What a great fucking day. Fucking the chick I’ve been thinking off non stop since months, playing on stage and then get back to fucking her. The two things I love the most. After the show, I’ll steal her away and get her back with me. What the fuck is the manager gonna tell me anyway? They don’t need her as much as I do.

“- Show’s gonna start baby. Let’s get the job done.” i wink, my hands resting on her waist.

I take my shirt and put it on her. God she looks so hot in my shirt. She should only wear that. She gives me a doubtful stare.

“- It’s okay, I’m hot anyway.” i smile.

Her gaze is playful as she goes down on her knees. She licks her lips and grabs my penis in her hand. She kisses slowly the tip of my cock. I take a deep breath and her smile goes feeble.

“- See you later big boy.” she brightens up again.

Bitch.

There she puts it back in my pants to only leave me my belt to put back on. Bitch. She’s lucky I can hide my bulge behind my guitar, she’s lucky we don’t have time. On the floor, I see her grab her thong that she slides into my pocket.

“- Eye for an eye.” she teases.

This isn’t fair. I give her my shirt, she gives me a piece of art. Putting her pants back on, I light her cigarette again and put it in her mouth.

“- Always finish what you started.” i say, getting her hair out of her face.

“- Whatever.” she rolls her eyes. “Go do your job.” she stops. “Play as good as you always do.” she smiles, cupping my face in her hands.

“- Coldness with a tinge of consideration, exactly what I love.” i kiss her neck, before letting her slip away to get out.

I hear her laugh evaporate as she disappears in the hallway. I know she’s playing around, she stays composed like her legs weren’t still shaking seconds from now. How fucking cool she is.

The show went great. When I get back backstage I see her there, cheering the end of this awesome show. She put on a leather jacket. After the show, we generally answer interviews and talk with some fans to end up having a little party all together. Not as wild as in my 20s, but still not very well-behaved. Tonight, I don’t give a shit, I have other businesses to attend. I greet the guys and let them know I’m going.

“- Where you going man, something to do?” Duff asks me.

I arrive in front of y/n and lift her up over my shoulder. She gasps and laughs.

“- Yeah man, something urgent! Might take me a long time, might kill me. Just in case, y’all can start looking for a new lead!”

“- Dumbass.” i hear her answer, which makes me laugh.

I fucking love her bitchy tone.

I admit. She won.

y/n pov

Here I am, being carried around like a sack of potatoes by the man I thought I could never have. I had the best sex of my life and something tells me I’m about to get it again. If I knew, I would have teased him back a long time ago. He said I was his.

In truth, he’s mine.

iii];)’ .・• ✰ ⋆

“Face of an angel with the love of a witch”.

A/N : i wrote that when i was horny as hell, clearly came from my delusions, i love the idea of slash having this feral internal dialogue because he just wants you so bad! enjoy loves <33 (slash if you read this i’m ready for your love ;))