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incidentallysunny · 5 months ago

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I Was Never There.

Death Island Leon x Reader

Real!Dad Leon

Dead dove warning.

13k word count. Proof read 3 times until I got to around 11k then I stopped worrying and just skimmed. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I’d like to appear in the tagz pls so here’s a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing f*cked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don’t be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, daddy-issues, age-gap, overall disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, mentions of oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, any probably some other irrelevant shit I’m forgetting my b.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it’s a long one.

The drive from your college town to where your home had been all your life was as expected. Nostalgia and homesickness being mixed in your gut like a can of paint in one of those weird machines at the hardware store that your dad would take you to. Speaking of dad, you hardly remember him. He was present for a short while, your mom always excusing his absence with work this and work that. He really did get busy, though. Almost dying several times. You still remember your moms panicked phone calls, her countless prescription drugs for the same problems you now suffer from, and her late-night bathroom breakdowns. Apparently he couldn’t get out of this job though. Some real fucked up government shit he was tied to, your mom explained. All you know about him is that he saved the president’s daughter. Whatever.

So yeah- a perfect life with a perfect set of parents. One being mentally driven through the dirt and the other that you haven’t seen in 8 years or maybe more. You can’t seem to remember if the last few times you saw your dad were daisied dreams or reality. Bastard has never FaceTimed or video called you, either. Dunno if he even had a phone capable of that. Either way, it must be for the better, because your grades had been sufficient without stressors on your mind. And we all know a low-effort dad would definitely be one. But perhaps he’d rather just be there in person. Older people are like that.

You grunted, trying to drag your over-packed suitcase up the steep suburban driveway before sighing and standing in place. Sure, you didn’t need to bring so much shit home, but would you really want to risk some bitch at college stealing anything from your quad-dorm?

Before you could think and figure out how you’d even get the plastic luggage up the pristine, hand-painted porch steps and inside (without scratching them up and having your parents on your ass about their perfect house having a flaw) a voice called out to you. Unrecognized and not ringing any of the bells in your head. (If there were any left)

“Hey there, sweetheart. It’s been a while, huh?”

You turned to see a middle-aged man, similar to the last memory of your dad that had been printing-pressed into your mind for safe keeping. He was just emerging from the front door, broad chest accentuated by a well-fitted T-shirt. You immediately felt angry that his tits were bigger than yours. Would probably look better with a bra, too.

You didn’t answer.

Fuck- nerves were getting the better of you. Your palms were slick with sweat and you didn’t know if it was from the building summer humidity or anxiety. Was this normal? No the fuck it wasn’t.

“Uhh.. dad?” You queried- almost certain the gorgeous man at the door was just a hotter, older version of your dad and not actually him. The fuck is wrong with you? You’re getting this worked up over your father? Did college drinking really rewire your brain to be this fucked or is it all of the anxiety meds? Maybe both. Maybe you’re just overwhelmed. Maybe it’s because you rarely saw him and have zero attachment.

“Yeah, it’s me. Your old man. Missed you, kiddo.” There’s a pause for a moment- because you’re not sure why he’s talking so casually as if you see each other every weekend- like it hasn’t been years and years since you’ve seen him.

“Don’t remember me,huh?” He laughs satirically- like you’re supposed to be so sure. It makes you slightly furious and the feeling of anger bubbles up again- replacing any strange thoughts you were having moments ago.

No, my apologies dearest dad. I totally recognize you despite having met you enough times to count on almost two hands.

But the better part of you that managed to exist underneath the scores of problems you had just replied in jest- like someone without said scores of problems. It was best to keep the peace for now.

“You look a little different… sorry.” Is that all you can manage? It’s pitiful the state that your sullied mind is in.

He chuckles, though, like he knows your’re right. The sound is more pleasant and striking when it’s genuine. Makes you feel damp in other areas than just your armpits (thank you, heatwave).

“I suppose there’s truth to that. But It’s alright, sweetheart. I know it’s been a long time. People change, right?” His eyes scan you in an undecided way.

“But you, shit. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. College treating you well?” His words sound a little huffed then, he’s clearly beating around the bigger issue with a stick. But him calling you beautiful and being all fucking sappy makes your face feel hot and sticky like it’ll melt off. Got you wanting to rip the hair from your scalp to hear him say it again.

“Please?” You called out gently- gesturing to the suitcase and ignoring any other question. You were very much overstimulated- having overexerted muscles in your arms by being a weak bitch about a crammed carry-on. Just get your ass out here and help your daughter, thanks.

He shook his head- again laughing hotly while looking down as he stepped off the porch- his brown bangs were peppered with greys and they brushed his face on one side, his hair somehow pornographic on its own. Christ. He looked like one of those men you saw on Viagra commercials that obviously didn’t actually need it. Even the sight of your perfectly trimmed lawn and faux-looking home completed the scene. Where was the camera?

He walked over to you- there was a slight stiff in his stride; like he had a bad back or something. Maybe he did. Almost dying was the likely cause for that. Serves him right for leaving you with issues on top of issues. Maybe you should stop being mean, you’re the one getting hot over your own father. Again- because of him. Circle back to square one.

Leon towered over your frame as he hinged at the hips, picking up the suitcase with ease- the muscles in his arm flexed with each small movement. His face was a tinge of smug with a mix of something else…satisfaction? Maybe he was just pleased he was able to lift it without rupturing a hernia. Jesus Christ, his veins. You wonder if he has them anywhere else. No- maybe you should be wondering about taking your ass to an inpatient facility immediately. A few screws are loose and you don’t exactly have the tools to tighten them.

“I guess college did treat you well. You’re here in one piece.” He says- cutting you thickly from your thoughts and answering his own question from earlier. His blue eyes are sweet and gently lined with signs of aging. Which only makes him hotter- just like the fiery pits of hell that await you.

You scoff.

“Well, it’s not like I went to war or something.”

“Still. It’s nice to see you, sweetheart.” The word rolls off his tongue again. Your insides are trapezing around in their own miniature, fleshy circus- you’re wishing you could stab yourself in the stomach to stop the swarm of butterflies that don’t even feel metaphorical anymore. You’re sure they’re real now.

He continues, though.

“I know I haven’t been around much in your life- this fucking job and-“ You stare up at him- glossy doe-eyes and stupid look on your face. An apology- or even an explanation from your daddy might be part of what your scrambled brain needs.

“Work kept me away, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about you every day. I’m sorry if I wasn’t there for you like I should have been. Shit… What I mean to say, is- things will be different. I’ve retired. Your mother wanted me to tell you over dinner later but I figured you’d be happy to know. I’m not the best at keeping secrets.” He jokes at the end, but how is that true in the slightest? He’s kept his job a secret for your entire life, so he clearly can’t be that horrible at it.

“Oh.” Leaves your lips quietly, ghosting over Leon and leaving him wondering if he said something wrong. But then he realizes it’s probably just overwhelming for you. The worst part of him thinks you hate him. A feeling overcomes you though, and you rush in to wrap your arms around his waist- hugging him tightly. You now wonder why he didn’t hug you to begin with. Maybe he wasn’t an affectionate guy.

He says nothing at first- he’s even more awkward than you are if it’s possible. But he’s trying. He sets down your suitcase before returning your hold. One arm comes around the back of you and the other is overlapped on top- a hand nestling on the back of your head. Seems he’s getting a bit emotional, too. The attention from him is nice, though.

When you make a small grunt as to wanting to end the hug, his hands linger on your shoulders and he smiles at you. You actually return to, not feeling anything horrid become of your thoughts right now. Whether it be anger or incestual lust.

—

Your dad pushes the front door open with one of his large hands encased on the knob. Hands you immediately find attractive, wondering if they’d feel nice scissoring your cunt open. You now begin to understand why your mom was getting suicidal over him possibly not returning home. You’d kill yourself over him too. But that’s too morbid- especially after the moment you just shared.

That’s already lost to you.

He shut the door firmly, sighing, then gestures to the stairs.

You went up first, self conscious about your backside being right in front of his view but he was your dad. Wouldn’t be looking at you that way. You’re just brain-rotted and have an ill opinion of men.

Your old bedroom still looked the same, basically. Just emptier and more hollow without your things. But the walls were still painted a babydoll-pink and lined with the few girlish decorations you left on the wall. No way you would have been caught dead with those in your dorm. Not unless you wanted to endure torment and bullying that’d lead you to jumping off the dormitory roof.

He sets your luggage down and takes a seat on your bed. A groan escapes him as he puts a hand on his lower back for a moment.

“I see this room hasn’t changed much, has it?” he muses, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Your mom and I had a blast putting it together for you when she was pregnant.”

Yikes. You almost feel guilt for both the incestuous thoughts and the fact you may have ruined your parents' marriage. Maybe that’s not true. It was his work- not you. After all, he’s insinuating how happy they were to have you brought into this world. Plus- they were fine. Never argued or anything.

“I’m sorry. I dont- I don’t know what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, throwing your hands slightly up by your side.

His face doesn’t drop, though. It seems he understands perfectly fine.

“It’s okay. We can start from scratch. Not talk about… your room or childhood stuff. I know it’s a sore spot for you, sweetheart.”

Wrong. It’s more like a festering wound with the rusted knife still wedged in it. The knife being Leon and the wound your daddy issues, by the way. And having no attachment to him as a father figure makes the attraction worse. Notably when he calls you any term of endearment. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

What the fuck. Was he sculpted by Satan himself as some kind of hell-on-earth punishment? Is this purgatory? Everything he did now was driving you up the wall like a roach- every movement and small flex showing a vein or bulge of muscle. And his arm hair didn’t help. Fucking Christ- shave it off or something. You don’t know how you’ll be able to stand it.

“Okay…. How does that work?” You cocked your head to the side a little, shifting your weight onto one leg. A nervous habit.

“Well- what do most parents do with their kids? We could go out for dinner, catch a movie, just… hang out. I’d like to spend time with my daughter, you know.”

Okay, so maybe he did care. That’s a start.

“Uh… all three?” You questioned, an eyebrow lifting along with the infliction of your voice towards the end of your sentence. You’re indecisive like your mom.

He smiled, lines and the corners of his mouth pressed. Happy. Something you heard wasn’t common for him, anyways.

“Of course. We can go out tomorrow, honey. Your mom just wants us to all have dinner together when she gets home. She missed you- not as much as I did, I bet.” He does that stupid fucking wink again. It makes you switch emotions and want to throw something at his head. Maybe your lamp. You feel bad, It’s not his fault you’re acting like a mental freak about him. You don’t even bother to fixate on the fact you’ll have to have dinner with your cunt of a mom. Okay, maybe that’s harsh.

“Okay.” You breathe out, looking around your room. Leon takes that as a cue to stand up from your old bed- the thing creaking from his weight and leaving an indent on your comforter.

“It’s a date, then. I’m going to start dinner. As much as I love your mother, she can be…scary.” He says, still rocking that pressed-in-cheek smile and cracking your door closed behind him. By the way, what he really meant was probably ‘bitchy’- not scary. But dad seems too kind to say that. He loves your mom.

You can breathe again without his presence. It was smothering, like you had to overperform. You find yourself rushing to your dresser mirror to check how you looked. Hair looks great, face too- though a little tired from college over-studying and then driving 4 hours home with no break.

You might as well write ‘whore’ on your mirror with lipstick. Or a marker- since that’s a more permanent reminder with the way you’re acting. But part of you wanted to know what he thought of you- how he perceived you. For now though, it doesn’t matter. Had barely been 15 minutes since you arrived. You turn your attention to your suitcase and push it over flat, unzipping it before the teeth give out and some of your things spill from inside.

You had less than a sufficient amount of energy to care about it being broken now- so you just put your things away quickly before plopping onto the bed and indulging your senses with the smell of the floral detergent your mom always used on your sheets.

—

It’s some time later when you’re abruptly awoken by your moms manicured hand shaking you awake by the shoulder.

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping when you could be spending time with your father. He was excited for you to be home.”

‘Way to wake me up.’ You thought. She was always having a stick up her ass about this kind of thing. Or anything, really..

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Besides, we’re going out tomorrow to do a bunch of stuff.” You argue sleepily, sitting up as your back aches with your vision still adjusting. She cuts on the lamp, sizzling your retinas.

Her face perks up but is pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, okay..” silence.

“I’m sorry, honey. It was just a long day at work and I’m just over-the-moon for you two to finally have some daddy-daughter time.”

You wrinkle your face in disgust, but not fully disgust since you were just fawning over your hot dad earlier. Maybe daddy doesn’t sound so bad.

“Ew- mom. He’s just my dad. I’m not five.” She laughs, waving her hand off at you.

“Well anyhow- come down for dinner, will you? He put in a lot of effort to cook something for us.”

You cursed under your breath and straighten out your shirt- hoping she wouldn’t bitch about it being slightly wrinkled from you sleeping in it. You seat yourself at the table- adjacent from your mother sitting at the end. She’s already changed out of her office clothes and sure enough, here comes your daddy dad from the kitchen with utensils.

“Sorry ladies- almost forgot these.” He laughs, placing down everyone’s set before seating himself next to you. Fuck.

“You know- your father has only been home a few months and he’s already shown the extent of his memory loss.” She jokes, giving him a loving yet teasing look that makes you want to vomit. And yet jealousy curls up like a cat in your lap, wanting to be lavished with attention from you. The metaphorical jealousy pounces off your lap as you’re met with your dad’s hand on your denim-clad thigh. It’s an innocent gesture but you want to his hand to go further than just sitting politely.

“She’s right, but I can be useful otherwise.” He’s bantering back with her- and you realize he’s making an innuendo when you look over at his face. But it’s weird that he’s saying it while his digits cradle your thigh so gently.

“Gross.” You take a bite of your food- momentarily shocked that a dad of any sort could make such a pleasant meal, especially when he’s spent such little time doing domestic duties.

“Oh honey- you’re grown. We’re just teasing each other.” Your mom nods to Leon, taking a bite off of her fork. His hand slides off of your thigh and he grabs his whiskey glass to take a proper sip.

Jeez, he drinks that shit like its water. No grimacing. No face was made when he swallowed it. Just a guy thing you suppose.

Dinner drags on- the both of them forcing you to talk about your less-than-thrilling college experience. No mom, no boyfriend. No dad, I’m not failing. No you two, I’m not having unprotected sex- fuck off.

After that eventful meal and conversation where your parents basically eye-fucked each other over dinner, you’re left to clean up the mess while your mom gets ready for bed. She has to leave for work early in the morning- as usual. Guess she’s going to take your dad’s spot for the absent parent now that you’re grown and traumatized full and proper.

Sleep came and went- leaving you to trudge out of bed and do your morning routine. It felt out of place trying to do it back at home- but it was also a sentimental feeling to be doing just that.

Leon is already in the kitchen, shirtless and cooking. Seems impractical, but holy fuck. You’d gorilla glue your eyelids open just to not miss a single second of what you’re seeing. Maybe that wasn’t needed- because you've been staring long enough that your eyes prick with tears. You remind yourself to blink and you seat yourself at the high-top, the stool swiveling slightly when your bottom meets the material.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He asks, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His traps are distracting you. You want to chew your fingernails past the nail bed- bite a finger off too. You can’t stand it. For a moment- the way he talks to you- you’re pretending you’re not his daughter. And then a moment later, you’re not being delusional anymore.

“Mhm.” You mumble sleepily- wishing you’d have stayed in bed longer. But piercing morning light, lack of blackout curtains, and the chirping of birds outside made that idea inconceivable. Leon chuckled to himself- turned away from you.

You decide to scroll through your phone for a moment’s time before he slides a plate to you from across the island.

“Breakfast a la Leon.” He says- clearly being silly. Corny as fuck, anyways.

“You’re old.” You snort, setting aside your phone and grabbing a fork to pick at your food until he turns away again. You didn’t enjoy the idea of having a hot, shirtless man watching you eat.

He shakes his head, sitting down next to you at the island.

Christ. Fucking go away. It’s actually enraging now.

You want to scream at him- it’s irrational and crazy- but you do. Screaming at him and being sent away to a ward sounds more appealing than the anxiety crawling up your spine like a horde of fire ants. Potentially- just like the butterflies- they’re real too.

He seems undisturbed as he settles- taking a bite. You do the same- trying to ignore the fact he's so close you can nearly feel his arm hair touching you every second or so. He breaks the silence after a moment.

“So- after this, I’ve got a whole day planned out. Mall, movies, and dinner. Sound good?” You nod, a soft ‘mhm’ reverberating on the roof of your mouth.

He finishes before you and makes his way upstairs- the occasional pain in his back unmistakeable every few steps. And yet he wants to take you to the mall to walk around? You didn’t even know how to feel about a day with your dad. What’s a dad? What’s daddy-daughter bonding? That’s lost to you- well- more like it was never even discovered. Not even Columbus could have ventured out and conquered it.

Since he’s no longer in the room, you hastily eat the rest of your breakfast before you discard the plate and fork into the way-too-elaborate dishwasher your mom had installed (you totally didn’t spend 10 minutes trying to turn it on).

Back in your room, you settle on a simple, totally not underlyingly slutty outfit. Shorts and a crop top. Can never go wrong with that. It’s just soft/core prom enough for an outing with your dad. When you leave your room- Leon is just headed down the stairs. He turns to look at you, his smile is as jovial as it has been since you’ve seen him. For a moment though, you think you catch his eyes landing on your exposed legs- but you know you’re just crazy. You’re the one lusting after him, not the other way around. Your dad isn’t abnormal like you. His head is on correctly- even if it’s been battered and spun on his shoulders throughout the years.

“Ready?” He asks, stopping in place to wait for you. You nod stupidly, breaking from your trance to follow him in a descent down the stairs.

He’s dressed similar to how he was yesterday- jeans and a t-shirt that should be considered indecent. If you were your mom, you’d beg him to wear something that doesn’t highlight every curve and dip of his chest. Hell, if you were your mom, you’d never let him go outside. Too risky. But you’re not your mom. You’re just unusual.

As a perfect man does, he opens the door for you. Then opens the SUV door, allowing you in before shutting it behind. You’re sure you've never met a guy that does that in real life, but maybe it was a ‘you’ problem and not the guy. Who knows.

When he gets in, he cranks the vehicle only for rock music to start playing from the radio- making the corners of his mouth dimple with a pleased look. Really are the simple things for him. As for you, you’re suffocated in a Hellish torment by both his presence and the expensive scent of cologne and leather seats combo.

The ride isn’t long, nor bad. Albeit you two only talk here and there so he can focus on the road- and so you can focus on not dying (he’s not a perfect driver, but not terrible either). Just enough to keep your nerves teetering between a light anxiety attack and full blown panic.

You’re relieved to get there alive. Maybe not. Your thoughts have you thinking suicide may be your only option for now disgusting they are. And it only gets worse when he helps you down from the step up of the SUV- a hand on your exposed waist and the other on your shoulder. It’s harmless. Just a dad being gentlemanly. He was shaped and carved out in that perfect, chivalrous image with only a mallet and hammer. No reason to make it weird.

Inside the mall is a tad busy- the perfect amount to be comforting. You feel a bit more at ease in a public setting since you can now focus on anything but your dad’s chest. As long as he doesn’t require eye contact or talk to you, that is.

He looks around, arms crossed. It’s almost whorish. He has to know his arms look good. Or that his everything looks good. The fuck.

“So…” He cranes his head to the side, bangs brushing over his nose for a moment. The way he looks around makes his Adam’s apple and neck muscles a little more prominent. A perfect, stubbled spot to attack with your lips.

“What do you feel like doing first, kiddo?”

You. Is what you want to say.

He looks back to you, smiling down amused. He seems genuinely happy to be able to take you out. But really- his face is making you nauseous. Obviously not because it’s bad. But because it’s good-bad. Too good it’s bad.

“Uhh… “ you look away from him, scanning the entrance area and looking at any signs. Almost like an escape.

“How about new clothes maybe? Seems like something got ahold to the other half of your pants anyways.” He nudges you with an elbow, gesturing to your shorts with his head.

So he probably did look at your legs earlier. Maybe not in the way you think, though.

You glare at him.

“Seriously?”

Leon puts his hands up in defense. He’s always on the defense in life anyways.

“Joking, joking. You’re…grown.” His forehead lines crease when he raises his brows. You did get rather annoyed at his comment, however.

“I could always buy some even shorter.” You spit sarcastically.

“Yes- because every father wants to walk around with their daughter who has her ass out.” He’s quick to remark, this time he seems grumpier when he talks. Sorta like he’s uncomfortable with the conversation. Or that he’s mad.

“Sorry my legs make you so uncomfortable. I guess I should’ve left them at home.” The back and forth here could go on forever between you two but he catches you off guard.

“Shit- no. It’s not that- ‘s just you’ve got nice legs. Can’t have these…shitheads eying down my little girl. I may be old, but I can fight when I need to.”

You know he meant his words innocently enough, but the fact that he said nice legs has you giddy inside. Same feeling when your crush calls you pretty. Yeah- that sorta feeling. And his little girl. It has a ring to it. Could even legally change your name to it so that he can call you by it more often. Maybe he’ll even let you jump on his dick right away.

Your face is pure rose-shaded. A perfect, neutral shade to make your embarrassment pop on your skin. You’re sure it’s visible to him, too. Your mom always teased you about how blotchy it would get when you were humiliated. Particularly when she would tell awkward stories about you at family dinners. Bitch.

“What’s wrong? Don’t be pissed at me, sweetheart. I was just teasin-“

“It’s not that.” You interrupt- heart thumping into your rib cage. If it doesn’t stop, or you don’t stop your word-vomit, it might crack a rib or four. Probably more. Better have hospital bill and therapy money ready, dad.

“Then what’s the matter? I just want us to have a good time together. I’m not trying to upset y-“

“You said I have nice legs.” You’re quick to cut him off again.

“And…?” He trails off, cocking his head to the side like he’s confused. Because he is confused. You stare off to the side- eyes glued to the fountain. Maybe you could go drown yourself in the penny-flavored water that you guarantee hasn’t been changed out since you were still the unlucky sperm in your dad’s ball-sack.

“I like that. You saying that.” You speak a little lower now- afraid someone will hear. Or because the tinnitus is so loud in your ears. What you’re getting at is almost clear now. Or at least clear enough.

Leon’s expression is taken aback but still confused to an extent because he’s not even certain what you’re saying. Though, he has an idea.

“Oh- uh. Okay. Sweethea-“

“Holy fuck- stop calling me that. You’re not making this easy. Wanting to fuck you. I know- I sound mental.” You spill it out, guts on the floor and the sword still in hand. Holy shit. Just told your dad you want to fuck him. You could have backtracked- fucking dumbass. You won’t be shocked if he packs his bags and leaves off again tomorrow.

He’s silent for a moment.

“Okay- clearly I wasn’t around enough. I get that. But I mean- fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking around. Probably thinking the same thing about the fountain that you did. Still- he looked hot while having a crisis and contemplating immediate suicide. He paces while your nerves are being electrocuted in your body. Why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Just- sweetheart, no. None of that’s.. I can’t.” He starts, turning back to you. It seems he can look you in the eyes now. So maybe he’s not entirely disgusted by you. His face isn’t contorted with disgust, so there’s a chance. Yeah, you’re off your rocker now. You know.

“Look- let’s not talk about this. C’mon. Let’s go catch a movie like I promised.” He starts walking- leaving you standing in a puddle of shame and embarrassment for a moment before stopping to let you catch up.

Luckily- the theater is joined to the mall. It’ll be a short walk.

—

Leon is lax on the couch until he hears the crunchy sound of tires on concrete. You’re home. Despite his shitty back, he's huffing as he gets up fast and is already opening the door. The air is hot as it greets his skin and he watches you struggle with your suitcase through the heat-haze that spans over the distance.

He calls out to you- making your head snap in his direction. Your face is that of awe and confusion. You don’t seem to immediately recognize him- okay. He gets it. It’s been a while. Nevertheless, you’re beautiful. He’d seen pictures of you from your mother, but he’s in awe just as you are. Though, he doesn’t think that highly of himself so he often wonders if you’re even his kid. Couldn’t have made something that perfect, in his mind. He helps you with your bag and follows you to your room. But your demeanor around him is noticeably mousey. At first, it doesn't seem like much. You’re just getting used to him.

Plus, Leon knows he can come off intimidating. Sometimes. But for him, he’s got a good eye and his job has led him to being able to read even the tiniest bits of body language. Doesn’t take him long to see how you’re worming around shyly- subconsciously smoothing your hair down and biting at your lip. Same way your mom acted around him before they started dating. But again- maybe it’s just in his head. Leon’s been wrong a time or two.

A better man would have left it alone. Leon gets that. But an innocent thigh squeeze at dinner can help him test his theory. A thigh squeeze that’s under the guise of friendly, fatherly touch. You tense- he can hear your small, sucked in breaths as long as his hand is there, along with heat radiating off your body like a wildfire. If wildfires could be horny college-aged daughters with daddy issues, that is.

The idea disgusts him. Because he should feel disgusted and just kill himself. Where did these thoughts come from? He even has the urge to let his hand wander other places. Bets that you have a cute pussy. No matter what it does or doesn’t look like, it’s yours and he knows it's cute. He’d give you two thick digits in your hole (three if you allow him) and have his tongue kitten-lick your clit.

“There we go. Good girl.” Is what he envisions saying before diving back in for a mouth full of you. Girls like you love being praised. Especially by their estranged father-figure or a middle aged man. It’s all the same. He’d pry the daddy issues right out of you with his dick. It’s long and fat enough, and solves all of his matters properly. Your mom is in a bad mood? His dick will fix that. He can’t sleep? His dick will fix that. His daughter is a horny freak and begging for it? His dick will fix that, too- obviously.

It’s only when your mom makes some stupid fucking joke about his memory loss that he snaps back into reality and he loses the momentum he had going for an erection. Which is good. Maybe thinking about fucking your mom will make him normal again. So he drops a quip right back- something about… being useful. Yeah. Again, his cock is useful. Your mom bites at his words, but you’re annoyed and disgusted with his comment- especially with his hand on you while he says it.

Trust me, baby. Much rather be splitting you open than having performative, mandatory spousal sex. It’s like a switch flipped. He’s not interested in your mom. Should’ve had that realization years ago, even. Technically he did. He’s just now saying it in his head finally. Mostly he was exhausted because she had nothing to do with Leon even when he was home (unless it was for dick). Too bad he was a golden retriever following after her every step like a good doggy. Marriage did that to a guy. He just did what he was supposed to. Kept the lights on, blew out her back occasionally, listened to her complain, and took care of the lawn when he could. Easy enough. That’s what men do, right? He doesn’t really know what being a man is, honestly. Thanks, Major Krauser. Anyhow- he chokes down his food with a smile. The need to upchuck after everything he just thought up is a given.

He takes the liberty to fuck your mom later that night as promised per (faux) flirting over dinner. He has her face down-ass up, though. For… imagination’s sake. At least fucking a pussy and imagining you is better than his hand and imagining you. Or so he tells himself. Call it killing two birds with one stone, satisfying your mom and quelling his own desires. And it’s not hard to imagine any of it, because you look so much like your mother. He lies awake for a short while after- contemplating his existence and fucked up thoughts. He’s still holding back vomit and the urge to grab his gun from the nightstand and off himself all over the wallpaper, while in the process, traumatizing your mom. After an hour of this- he figures it’s fine, men think of perverted or weird shit sometimes. Jerk off to weird shit too. He hasn’t technically done anything morally wrong… sort of. It’s denial. At least he’s good at playing the part of a genuine, loving father. Because he is! He loves his family. Always has!

Spending time with you would make you happy, him happy, your mom happy. He loves you dearly. All is great. He’s swearing that his brain won’t be smoothied in his skull by tomorrow. It’ll be normal and function rationally.

But Leon wakes up with the thoughts being real as ever while he stretches an arm out to feel around for your mother- bed empty since she leaves at the ass crack of dawn. Leon had just missed her leave, he’s still getting used to sleeping in ever since he retired.

He gets up and heads downstairs- immediately starting breakfast to take his mind off his…mind. Breakfast is his favorite meal of the day, it makes him feel better to indulge in it right now. Though, he doesn’t bother putting a shirt on at any point- just rocking those generic, green and blue tartan patterned pajama pants. Cooking shirtless is weird- but he’s hungry and part of him wonders if he’ll get to see your priceless face when you walk into the kitchen. He shakes his head- telling himself that he just had this talk with himself last night. None of that shit.

He was right about one thing. God, he could make a killing in betting. He sees your reflection behind him in the small window above the counter but you didn’t know that. Just stood, gawking. It’s okay. He’s observative, you’re not. You’re his dumb little girl. Dumb in the way you shift in your stool next to him when he sits down, dumb how you hold your breath when he’s near, dumb how you can’t even eat next to him, and dumb how your thighs seem to wriggle when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushes yours. Oh, he’s definitely not wrong.

Still- he knows when to back off. He hounds down his food, before you even make a dent in your plate, and heads upstairs to shower. He’s analyzing every detail of himself, contemplating how he can get under your skin the most- his knuckles gripping the sink with distaste for himself. Because it’s wrong. He’s acting like a teenager. This is a date with his daughter, not his highschool girlfriend.

Leon skips over shaving his face. Likes to keep it a little grown out but not too much so. Just in case he gets the chance to eat (your) pussy or kiss (your) a neck. Then comes the Dior ‘Sauvage’ body wash he never failed to keep with him. He takes pride in smelling good if anything. And this particularly expensive wash, plus the cologne, was his lifeline for that. When he traveled for work- the D.S.O. better have god damned had some sent to his room as courtesy. Ever since Raccoon City- he’s adamant about not smelling less than great. He swears he can still smell the sewer on himself sometimes, even if it’s not really there.

His hair routine was even more extensive and involved a weekly hair mask. Hey- it wasn’t wrong for a guy to have nice hair. It paid off.

Heat protectant, blow dry, hot-comb to get any cow licks or fly-aways he might have- though it’s unlikely- and a little spritz of biotin spray to keep it healthy and shiny. All of that in reasonable time, too. And no- it's not weird for him to spend longer on his hair than your mom does.

Besides, you seem to appreciate the way he looks when you come out of your bedroom- watching him descend the stairs. Leon looks back at you- eyes on your legs momentarily then coming back up. He knows it was a quick look- quick enough to make you question it. You do. Very much. Still, taking you out in public wearing those shorts is less than ideal for him, but he’s the one who needs to be watched closely. Aforementioned, Leon’s great at pretending. Pretending to be normal. Pretending to not have ulterior motives. Pretending to not want your legs on his shoulders as he-

“All ready?” He interrupts himself here. Can’t let his thoughts keep going too far. Even if he does want to rest a hand on your leg while he drives. Or veer off the road and into a tree so that he can’t continue to be disgusting. He’d die with the image of being a good, wholesome dad in everyone’s mind. And if you did or didn’t die too, at least you would have died not having been fucked silly by your old man. He manages to not kill you both, though. He wasn’t planning to- his driving is just ass. He knows whiskey with his breakfast isn’t ideal but when you’re a recovering alcoholic plus post traumatic stressed failure of a father, it helps.

Can’t complain though since he gets to put his hands on you while helping you out of the vehicle.

Now you’re both in the mall- Leon questioning what exactly he’s supposed to do now. He hasn’t been to one since… he doesn’t have enough fingers for that. But you’re seemingly calm. Until he makes a stupid joke about your shorts. Sure. As much as he’s thinking about ripping a hole in the crotch to fuck you cause he’s impatient and stupid- he said it out of genuine concern.

He still has fatherly instinct. Some sick bastard could get a glimpse of your exposed legs and go jerk off to it or take a photo. Ironic coming from him right now. The call is coming from inside the house but the dad is too busy fiending after his own daughter to answer.

You’re royally pissed. He knows it. Women don’t like having it insinuated that they’re dressed like a whore. Big whoop, though. Someone has to say it. Then you blindside him. Big, needy eyes and saying you like it when he tells you your legs are nice. Then something about how you want to fuck him. Christ. What the fuck. He’s not sure if this is some kind of screwy set-up or you’re actually just so slutty that the only dick you’ll accept is your dad’s. He’s rocking a semi now. Would be a full hard-on if he weren’t in public but his head spins cause all the blood went to his loins too fast.

Leon doesn’t accept the advances yet. Not now, anyways. He’s mortified. He really thought he had himself going in delusion about how you were behaving- but he was actually right. And now being confronted with it… he’s fucking scared - that’s for sure. Hmm. Be a morally acceptable human or fuck your needy, whore daughter silly? He shakes his head and lets out an exhale.

That question needs some thought. No, it doesn’t. He knows better than to do any of that shit, right? He takes a moment to start walking while you follow along shamefully- the two of you headed to the theater. A movie is perfect. Don’t have to talk or anything. No interacting, really. But how the fuck is he just going to forget what you said? Sure, he’s been having questionable thoughts but they’re just thoughts. Your words, however, spoke it into existence. Like a fucked up, frankenstein’s monster of father-daughter reality.

Don’t mind us, everyone. Daughter’s got it real bad for me but I’m just going to take her to the movies and pretend it’s normal. Reality was distorted for him ever since the existence of zombies and BOWs anyway.

He lets you pick the movie- telling the attendant that he needs two tickets. It’s a horror movie. Of course. Something to trigger his PTSD, maybe. Then he could say anything he did after that was just accidental. A mental slip. He goes to fork over the $60 for tickets and popcorn- god, when did shit get so expensive? As he’s pulling out the cash, he sees you give him a look like you want to say something. His mind is racing looking at you- it makes him nervous.

“Uh.. what about candy?” You ask, looking away from him and at the display.

“What? Sour worms?” He questions you, laughing. Not in a mean way- but because it’s your favorite. So insignificant but he remembers. You were still a kid when he and your mom took you to see some milked out children’s movie that was a part of an entirely too long series. He bought you two boxes of sour worms then. You were a weird kid, though. The worms were split into two colors, and you’d always bite them down the middle and make him eat the side you didn’t like. But he’d do it. Gladly.

You nod, a little befuddled that he’d remember something like that. Cute. Too bad your weird ass just told him you wanted to fuck him about 15 minutes ago. So not entirely a cute moment.

“Oh- and two boxes of Sour Worms, please.” He adds, now pulling out a little more cash.

You both respectively grab your own drinks- Leon with popcorn in tow and you, your worms and cherry soda. His hands are full but he manages to flash the movie ticket between his index and middle finger to the usher, who then ripped it in half and pointed to the left end of the hallway.

You both don’t say anything, but you immediately race to the very top row like a child once inside the screening. Leon swears under his breath as he follows you like a geriatric snail. If a snail could have lumbar issues. He’s able to make it up the stairs to you quite some time after and takes the seat next to you that’s closest to the aisle. Safety and all that jazz.

Previews are already playing so it gives him peace of mind to not address the awkwardness between the two of you. Your soda is in the cup holder that’s separating you both, but you lean over to take a sip, cheeks hollowed out while you drink. Of course Leon looks over, fuck.

Pretty little lips wrapped around the straw until you pull off of it with a satisfied sigh. Cause you were thirsty from anxiety- like someone shoved gauze and cotton into your mouth.

He shifts in his seat and looks back at the screen. He doesn’t even know if you’re doing it on purpose. You’re not, however. He’s just a perverted dickhead.

Time passes and not a single soul has come into this screening. It’s Monday at 11am, after all. Who the hell would come watch a horror movie at this time? No one except two fucking weirdos. It’s making Leon’s nails dig into the armrest with the other set scratching at his jeans.

The movie doesn’t start off bad, to Leon’s shock. He’s actually enjoying it and you seem just as entranced, pulling open the box of Sour Worms without looking down. You do wind up looking down, however, to bite one in half because it just so happened to be a blue and orange combo, and you hated the orange side.

“Here.” Leon turns to look at you- your eyes coming up to meet his blue ones that are oddly blue enough to the point that any light from the screen makes them pop. Pretty.

“The orange half. I know you don’t like them.” His voice is husky and low since the speakers are blaring some generic string-quartet horror piece. He nods down to the half chewed candy in your palm.

You pinch it between your fingers, bringing it to his mouth as your cunt throbs. He was expecting you to hand it to him, but the way you confidentially yet instinctively brought it to his lips isn’t entirely unwelcome. The emptiness of the theater makes it that way. Allows room for incest of whatever. He opens his mouth for you, and you go to place the sour treat on his tongue. His lips gently close around it, before he grabs your wrist to hold your arm in place. A hold gentle enough to tell you that if you want to snatch your hand away- feel free to do so. But you don’t. And you won’t. He knows.

Candy in cheek, he brings your fingers to his lips and nurses your knuckles with a kiss before puppeteering your hand with his larger one, working each digit so that he can equally suck each one clean. You’re amazed, aroused, and alarmed all at the same time. Amazed because he looks so gorgeous sucking on your fingers. Aroused for the obvious reason. Alarmed because duh, he’s your father and things can only go further from here.

Leon places your hand back onto the arm rest between you, chewing the halved sour worm now. As if he didn’t just give you the most visually appealing form of sexual affection in the history of womankind. The dryness of your mouth returns and you take another sip of your Cherry soda. Maybe you can drown yourself in it. No, stupid. That’s what the public bathroom toilets are for.

Right before you set the plastic cup into the cupholder again, Leon speaks.

“Ah, ah. Put it over there.” You don’t even hesitate to listen. Record timing for you doing anything. You don’t even know why you followed his instructions so quick.

“Good girl.” His words send lightning of excitement down your nerves and straight to your clit as he pushes the armrest between you upwards and out of the way. Because that’s a thing, for some reason. It’s like theaters want people to fuck, give head, and spread their diseases everywhere. And why does he know they move? You don’t even want to question it. Maybe he’s just a knowledgeable guy.

“Come here, honey. Let daddy kiss that pretty mouth.” Fucking Christ. This can’t be real. Doesn’t matter, ‘cause again, there’s zero hesitation on your part. Leon likes that. A woman that can follow orders. He’s so used to taking them, not giving them. And your mom isn’t one to listen to other people. Either way, if this goes south, Leon can always just off himself. He wasn’t around much so what difference would it make if he was permanently gone? The reassurance of being able to log out forever gives him courage here. It’s rational.

You scoot over since you’re free from any barriers or restrictions, and he puts an arm over you. You swear you almost hear your skin sizzle from the contact. You’re not a witch- and as far as you know, he’s not water. Even if he gets you wet. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and swipe a thumb over your bottom lip- teasing you.

“D-dad.” You stutter a protest- cringing that you sounded the way you did just now. Maybe you shouldn’t be embarrassed ‘cause he’s your dad- but you are embarrassed ‘cause he’s hot. You can’t even figure out why you wanna back out suddenly. Probably because the idea was better than betraying your mom and knowing yourself as someone who fucks their dad. Anywho- didn’t he say something about kissing you? Cause he’s not even doing as promised.

Your dad leans in, his free hand is now on your neck and angling it just to show you how easy he can manhandle your body. He plants a kiss on your earlobe before saying anything.

“What’s wrong, baby? Can’t go giving daddy blue-balls now. It’s not polite to start things you don’t wanna finish.”

Leon’s words simultaneously gross you out and turn you on in a self-deprecating, disgusting kind of way. Not to mention he’s literally contradicting himself since he would gladly eat the half of the sour worms you didn’t want to finish- therefore entirely enabling you to start things you couldn’t finish. Hm. That must explain a large portion of your life, then. And besides all do that, doesn’t the know blue-balls is some kinda stupid myth or whatever?

His thumb falls down your lip and traces your jawline with intentional slowness while his eyes look over your face appreciatively- but it also seems as if he’s looking for or at something specific.

You get the courage to speak, air sucked fully into your lungs.

“Sorry, daddy.” The fuck is wrong with you? You could have said anything but that. It’ll only spur him on. But you want that, obviously.

He smirks, lips pressed together as the corners of his mouth do that same, pitted thing they do that you like so much. Must go hand in hand with how his chin is also dimpled. It’s sexy. But little do you know, it’s one of the reasons he keeps his stubble. Doesn’t feel like having his butt chin on display to the world- even if every woman that’s ever laid eye on him sees it and wants it buried in their cunt.

“That’s my girl. Didn’t even have to be around much to teach you that, did I?” Leon queries, grabbing your chin to crane your head just so that he can plant his lips onto your neck. His other hand is on your knee, unmoving. You want it to move, though. God- you’re sure whatever higher power is in the great sky is throwing up right now, moments away from pressing the reset button. The same higher power will make a new rule on humanity.

No free will and absolutely no incest. Yeah. Probably should have written that into the books ages ago, one fears.

You fidget as he kisses your neck, stubble scratching your epidermis yet tickling all the same.

“Not gonna answer me, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your throat, the neck kiss he gives it uses a bit of tongue- making your body jolt. “I know your mother taught you manners.”’

You mumble something pathetically apologetic, hands gripping the fabric over his shoulders. Hopefully your mom won’t notice his shirt being stretched out there- cause she notices everything.

“N-no, daddy. I knew it on my own.” You huff, that hand you wanted him to move is slowly doing so- fingers dragging along your inner thigh as if everything he’s doing to you is purposefully meant to be some kind of forewarning. But for what, exactly?

“Such a smart girl. Get that from daddy, you know it?” Ok, cocky…

Leon kisses his way back up your neck, jawbone, and then your cheek. It’s sweet- if being lavished with saccharine, sexual and inappropriate attention from your dad could be sweet.

You nod, feeling his grip loosen from your chin and now sliding up the back of your neck to tangle in your hair, threading it. He’s slow and deliberate- part of you wishes he’d not give you time to think about your actions. Not that you can really think anyways. Your heartbeat is muddled in your ears and the movie is still rumbling through the speakers while someone gets murdered on screen. Lucky them.

The hand on your thigh presses firmer into the skin just below the edge of your shorts, a silent telling for you to keep your attention on him.

“Sorry baby, daddy got distracted. Just so pretty.” He must be able to tell you’re impatient because he kisses your cheek (with an oddly dark undertone to it) before slimming the distance between your lips. He pauses right when they touch and you’re breathing in the taste-turned-scent of the sour worm you fed him earlier. Sugar and that weird orange flavor that is only specific to orange candy. You’re obviously not a fan, but it suits him.

You don’t get any time left to process before it’s a full on kiss- well, make out, actually. It’s slow. You can’t recall being kissed like this, ever. Normally it’s straight to tongue with guys, and not in, like, the good way. The ‘having an eel invading your oral cavity’ kind of way. Eugh.

But your dad’s tongue does brush yours, tastefully. You can actually feel the texture and it’s easy to tell there’s an erection fueling his actions- but not so much so that it takes over the whole kiss.

He uses your hair to pull you closer, teeth clashing momentarily. Not exactly the best feeling but everything else envelops your senses to the point that it’s only a flash of a moment. Your thigh is neglected by his touch, hand moving up and around onto your backside. He gives a squeeze to the fat of your ass and groans against your mouth before pulling you into his lap- legs folded on either side of his thighs.

You break the kiss, looking over your shoulder and to where the entrance is- the exit sign casting a nearby glow that gives you anxiety..

“Can’t- we’ll get caught.” You pant, that weird feeling that’s the grotesque love child of nervousness and excitement is swimming in your gut like a parasite before settling. The severity and realness of the situation sinks in.

Leon laughs low and mean, retracting his hand from your hair and moving to run it through the top of your scalp to push it back. He juts his hips upwards to prod his denimed erection into the cunt of your shorts. You mewl quietly, or maybe it was loud. The movie is just too deafening to distinguish which.

“Suppose you’re right, baby.” He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, leaning in to give you a light peck on the lips. “Told you you’re a smart girl, didn’t I? Can’t let me go around thinking with my dick, huh?”

His hand pats your thigh as if to tell you to get off.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Up.” He commands you with a huffed voice- not because he’s annoyed but because he’s a middle-aged man. Moving is hard. You ignominiously climb off of his lap, putting your bottom back onto the seat next to him. He’s looking at you, meandering a hand back onto your thigh just to rest in place.

You stare at the screen- but you can’t even register it because you’re too disassociated from what just happened. You almost want to beg him to fuck you right here- plead for forgiveness that you suggested stopping in the first place. And you can still taste that damned orange sour worm in your mouth.

Leon behaves, though. He’s good about that. Respectful. In the way of consent- not in the way of not tongue fucking his daughter in a public space. When the movie ends, he gestures for you to stand and you walk past him, carrying your empty cup and boxes of sour worms while the uncomfortable feeling of your slick clinging the gusset of your panties to your cunt. You look back at your father, the sight of him in the palely lit theater is a bit intimidating. He’s adjusting his pants for obvious reasons. You look away quickly and keep walking- a giddy feeling of satisfaction overcoming you. Shortly enough, you’re both back in the main area of the mall. You brush your shirt out and fix your hair- the thought occurs to you that maybe you look a little mussed and should have straightened up sooner.

But the daylight beaming through the sky roof brings you back to your senses.

“Hmm. What does my sweet girl want to get up to now?” Leon asks, intersecting his arms as he looks over you.

You think, mind fizzling as it short circuits. You almost smell smoke emanating from your head, too. How can you look him in the face right now?

“Uhh..” You really don’t know what to say. What can you focus on doing after everything that’s happened today?

“How about this? We can go home a little early and I’ll cook something up for lunch. The drive will give us time to work up an appetite.” He says, nonchalant. Right back to his same fatherly tone from earlier today instead of the ‘I want to split you open with my dick’ tone he had moments ago. Maybe he’s just being sweet and you’re overthinking.

You’re befuddled that he’s not saying anything else about… that. How can he so easily go from publicly groping you to acting cheery and normal? It’s frustrating. Disturbing even. Leon can see the disappointment on your face- but you don’t know that. You assume it’s well hidden, just like the fact you kissed your own father. He thinks it’s cute though. You’re just cock dumb for him. On the other hand, this whole situation is something he has to deal with.

“Got it.” You manage to say, walking a little faster than he does. This is the second time you’ve walked off from your dad, and it does irritate him because he can’t keep up like he used to. Displaced disc in his spine or whatever. Plus, he thinks you’re pissed. Which is worrying. Should have known better than to mess around with his own daughter, he supposes.

The drive back is silent and less terrifying than the previous, part of you thankful. Maybe he was only a bad driver in the morning. Unlikely, but not impossible. Maybe it was the fact that he drank whiskey with his breakfast. Hm. ‘Responsible’ in hindsight.

It’s still early in the afternoon when you arrive back home. The concrete is sizzling from the heat and the sun beats down way too uncomfortably for even a walk from the driveway to the front door.

Leon side-steps you to unlock the house before he urges you in. He may be morally reprehensible but he still didn’t want to let any cool air out- AC’s expensive. You plop down on the couch and he locks the door, walking past you and straight to the kitchen.

The tension is thick for you- but for Leon- not at all. You watch him disappear through the doorway as he goes to prep food. Why is it so hard to read his emotions? He’s like a fucking light switch. You’re annoyed- leaning back on the couch, until he calls for you. You’re quick to get up, scrambling into the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart. Mind giving me a hand?”

“Yeah. What is it?” You faintly cock your head to the side.

Leon looks to the side- directly at you. You’re cute when you’re confused. He can tell that all you’re thinking about is continuing where you two left off earlier. Shit, you’re no better than your mother. ‘S just that you’re not crabby and sour all the time like she is.

“Can you grab the saucepan from the bottom cabinet. Your old dad can’t exactly bend over too well.” He laughs- shaking his head. Yes, dad. I get it. I know you have a bad back.

You walk over to the cabinet where he’s leaned onto one hand which is rested on the marbled countertop. You feel a bit apprehensive to be close to him again. Mostly because you don’t trust yourself to not jump his bones, but Leon’s already ahead of you. As soon as you bend over, he pulls you back by the hips so that your ass is flush with his groin.

You’re taken aback but definitely not surprised. He’s a dirty old man, as you’ve learned.

“Gonna let daddy fuck this pussy now, or are you getting flaky on me?” He coos against your ear while he runs his hands up your sides and down again- creeping his hands to your front and over the buttons of your shorts- unhooking them through the slits.

“Yes.. want it.” You breathe in quick- the word coming out on its own. If god could hear you right now, he’d set your house ablaze with lightning.

“Need you to loosen up if I’m going to. You’re way too stiff.” Your shorts are the opposite of you, loose and unfastened fully so they fall to your ankles, and Leon nudges your feet apart with his boot. You realize he’s got a point as you feel his calloused hand glide down your hip and yank you in place. The other hand is spreading your pussy lips apart before finding that fleshy bud between them. A moan rumbles in your throat as your legs almost give out below you. He mutters a curse under his breath, and you realize his cock is now out while he rubs up against your ass- getting off on not only playing with your pussy but from dry humping you.

“Fucking christ. Got the prettiest ass, baby. Think daddy needs to see it bouncing on his cock.” You can practically feel that stupid, smug look as he grabs his dick- slapping it on your ass. It makes you cringe a little, but maybe you should be cringing at the fact your dad is the one doing it. You figure it’s just something he saw in porn, so it doesn’t leave your expectations high at the moment. Great. Leon adjusted himself back into his pants, for now.

His finger continues circling that bundle of nerves, your legs shaky as you’re being pressed into the counter, a hand is on your lower back to keep you down so he can do what he wants. You sound stupid- tears welling in your eyes as you babble nonsensically about wanting to cum. He moves his hand off of your back and sinks to his knees to be face level with you (even if it makes his back hurt a little), sliding his fingers up your inner thigh until there’s a digit prodding your hole, slowly pushing in.

He watches your cunt swallow his finger, barely able to fit it inside.

“Fucking shit, baby. Gonna have to stretch this pussy out if I want my cock in you, huh? Think you can let daddy do that?” He asks, breathy and sounding like he’s trying not to bust all over himself.

You eagerly shake your head.

“Yes, daddy. Need you to get me loose.” The words spill like a hot cup of tea from your lips, scalding Leon with desire.

“God damned. Such a polite fucking girl I’ve got. Might have to eat your mother out later to thank her for making you so respectful.”

You scrunch your face in disgust.

“That’s fucking gross.” You moan, Leon slipping a second finger into you, which should technically feel like four with how worn and big his hands are.

He tuts, planting a kiss to your asscheek.

“Now, didn’t daddy just compliment you? Could be a bit more grateful since he’s trying to make you cum” He grits, sounding a bit (terrifyingly) stern.

You apologize again.

“Sorry, daddy. Just don’t wanna hear about you and mom. Makes me jealous.” You admit, briefly thinking about their dinner conversation last night. Then about how fucking weird you are. You’re really hoping you get the courage to bash your head on the marble countertop and get amnesia.

Leon laughs, but in a way that makes you think he’s amused more than actually laughing.

“God. Want me to stop fucking my own wife just ‘cause you’ve got a needy pussy?” A third finger slips in, making an almost unbearable stretch as you feel a slight ache, but the previous two fingers already did enough work that it’s not completely unbearable.

“Maybe you’re not that grateful. Giving you three fingers here and she’s still too tight.” He twists his hand, letting the inside of you feel every inch of his knuckles and calluses. Your knuckles, however, are ghost-white as you grip at nothing.

“Maybe your fingers are just too small.” You say- mostly from built up tension and annoyance that you didn’t get to let out yet. But you regret the words.

He’s silent- which scares you. He pulls his fingers out of you- the stark contrast in emptiness is clear and the cool air stings you.

Leon groans as he stands up, kicking off his boots before yanking you by the arms to stand straight. He leans into your ear.

“C’mon. You’re gonna come sit on daddy’s dick, since you’re too fucking picky.” Goosebumps form all over you as he leads you to the couch. Leon leaves you standing there so he can get comfortable and discard his clothing, lying back with his hands behind his head. You make a mental note of how his biceps look with his arms bent in this position, even if you kinda feel like it’s lazy. But holy fuck, his toned stomach is perfect- sprinkled with a happy trail that will definitely lead you somewhere that will make you happy. Speaking of, his dick is nice. Fat. Not sure how big it is since you have not much to compare to, but you’d imagine taking it would be a bit of a proper challenge.

You step a little closer- crawling awkwardly over his lap- ass faced towards him so that you settle on his waist. It’s hard not to feel self conscious about your backside in this position, even considering the fact that he was just fingering you from the back moments ago. You’re mostly just upset you can’t gawk at his tits or stomach.

You grab him by the base, shifting yourself to hover directly over him, letting the tip graze your wet hole before slowly sinking down- a drawn out moan escaping you.

“Fuckkk. That’s it. Sit down on it. Take all of daddy.” You glance over your shoulder as you bottom him out; his eyes are half-lidded. Well, at least he’s got a pretty face while you’re fucking him. You almost failed to realize his hands moved from behind his head to your ass- gliding up your back and down again.

You take a moment to adjust, breathing shakily ‘cause his dick is so fat you think you might die. Or maybe you’re having a heart attack at your ripe age.

“Didn’t tell you to take any breaks, did I baby?” You’re annoyed at his pushiness, but you did have a bit of a sour attitude earlier. So you can only blame yourself.

You’re not sure how to entirely do this, but you move yourself up and down. Not at a fast pace, yet. Just that savoring your dad’s dick seems like a reasonable ordeal.

He doesn’t shut up, though. You’re learning just how much he likes to talk- as if he just wants to hear himself. Is he even getting off on you or the sound of his own voice? It makes you roll your eyes even if you do like hearing him say dirty shit.

"That’s my girl. So fucking good. Ride it nice and slow... Work that sweet pussy on daddy's cock.” You just might fall over dead hearing him say any of it- it’s disgusting but sweet Jesus are you eating it up. He must know it too because of how you clench around him involuntarily when he talks like that.

“You like when daddy praises you? Yeah, you love me telling you how good you are.” His words are husky and yet pleased with the previous tidbit of information.

“See how nice I am? Letting you sit on my cock after you made me wait earlier. Wasn’t very nice of you, now was it, baby?” His words have an underlyingly mocking tone, but you’d do anything to make him change it.

“No, daddy. Was really mean of me.” You whine pitifully, bouncing yourself on his dick like it’s your major in college and you’re trying to pass with flying colors.

“I know, baby. But daddy forgives you.” He murmurs, sitting up with you still on top of him. He’s flush against your back now- reaching in front of you to make those same tight circles on your clit. You both exchange your pitchy moans and his grunting and groaning- working up to a good point in both of your impending orgasms.

“Gonna cum in this pussy, got it? Daddy doesn’t like to pull out.”

You scramble a bit, squirming on his lap.

“Fuck, dad! You can’t do that!” You whine as his other arm holds you onto him- wrapped around your stomach. Your nails dig into his forearms, hopefully not leaving noticeable scratches.

“I think I can, baby. You’re squeezing me at the idea- I’m not fucking stupid.” He’s quick to be mean again, but you’d be a liar to say you’d don’t want him to cum in you. And you’re not a liar, that’s just deplorable- coming from someone who is literally fucking their dad with enough energy to power a small village for a month. And yet, you don’t stop riding him.

And your silence tells it all.

“Yeah- my baby wants a nice creampie.” He sounds more strained now, letting go of his hold on your stomach and using his hand to now guide you to roll your hips on him.

Sweat beads down Leon’s forehead, bangs sticking to his face as he watches your ass grinding against his lap.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that. I’m gonna cream this tight fucking pussy. Want that, don’t you? ‘Cause daddy’s gonna give it to you whether you want it or not.”

You should be a little more upset or concerned in any regard right now, but the last two days have made you into a proper whore to the point that you don’t even give a shit. Self respect crawled itself into a space shuttle and launched off of the planet, probably to never be seen again. Stuck in orbit, if you will.

You’re sucked out of the motions when Leon speaks again.

“Stop, stop.” He pats your bottom.

“Turn around, baby. I wanna see your face. Wanna kiss those lips while you’re on my dick.” Your stomach flutters with nervousness and a sickly sweet feeling. You lifted yourself from him with a trail of arousal to follow and maneuvered to turn around- this time he was holding his cock ready for you. Moments went by of you staring, getting a proper look of him since everything had been a quick blur so far.

“Come on, baby. Need you to mount daddy’s cock again. Told you I wanted to kiss you, didn’t I?” He exhaled, sounding a bit pent up. Jeez- seconds without pussy and he’s getting upset. Maybe he needs a therapist and anger management, not his college-aged daughter spearing herself on him.

You replied, yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you wait, daddy.

You dropped yourself down onto him once more- only this time it was easier since you were able to get accustomed to his dick.

“Start moving sweetheart, make daddy cum.” He instructed, leaning in to take you in a kiss. It was more dirty than the last kiss, somehow. His tongue slipped between your lips- Leon lifted you with his hands on your waist before jutting his hips up to slam his cock snugly into your heat, groaning against your mouth delightfully.

His teeth nipped your lower lip- giving you a little further taste of just what kind of lover he is. Or maybe this is just the version you get. Either way, you can’t complain in any area. You feel lucky to receive even a sliver of it.

The familiar roughness of his thumb returns to your already throbbing bud- circling at the same pace he’s now moving at. Despite his age, he seems awfully enthusiastic to do strenuous work involving his hips. Bad back, my ass. Or maybe he’s able to put that on the back burner to please you. Probably worried if he doesn’t give you good dick then you’ll go tattle on him.

Leon didn’t break the kiss whatsoever while he pounded into you ruthlessly, he swallowed up every moan and noise you made like it was alcohol. ‘Cause that was his favorite, obviously.

When he pulled his mouth off of yours, a trail of saliva lingered- stretching out while you giggled on top of him. Something about you laughing almost made him nut immediately, but he held out just to prolong this and let it engrain into his mind for certain.

“Got the prettiest baby- look so good on my cock like this. Want daddy to bust in that pretty pussy?” He asked, looking for your approval.

“Uh-huh. Need daddy to knock me up.” The words came from god knows where, making even your eyes look bewildered for a second.

Leon laughed darkly at you.

“God, baby. Daddy’s so fucking close.” He muttered stupidly, almost like he was drunk. At least this could be an ego boost for you- but the fact it was your dad canceled that out. Dick only counts if it’s from someone that’s not related to you. His eyes did that half-lidded thing from earlier that you found so hot, and he pulled you down onto his cock one last time, spilling thick ropes into your blood-related hole. His dick pulsed as he let out a muted grunt, head lolling back and his adam's apple on full, stubbly display. You could bite it, just like a real apple.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned. Jeez. He was a whore, honestly. The way he made noises and didn’t shut the fuck up was honestly… a case that should be studied. Maybe he had been turned out a time or two himself.

His cock didn’t soften though, nor did he not forget about you cumming. He lifted his head back up, looking down at where his thumb was. It was almost like he read your thoughts, not saying a word as he concentrated on making you cum. ‘Cause earlier he had been too eager to get in you and you were too eager to get on him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders (hopefully your mom wouldn’t notice any marks on him when she gets home from work later) and he gently fucked into you while you received proper attention on your aching clit. The combination of his dick keeping you full and the sensation of his digit sent you throbbing through your orgasm around him- low curses and other disgusting things coming out of both your mouths.

‘Cause you’re both disgusting.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy death island #leon kennedy vendetta #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy #tw inc*st #tw #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #leon s kennedy smut

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carmyberzattosjournal · 5 days ago

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Therapy Files 3: Twist the Knife

GIF credit: @mithrandirl

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tells him it’s okay to cry after his first day of therapy. (944 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, comfort, hurt, emotional breakdown (crying), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, mention of Donna Berzatto, mention of Mikey Berzatto, mention of Natalie Berzatto, mention of mental and emotional abuse.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in the Therapy Files Series and will be tagged with #cb therapy files.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Post-Day 1

I held it together after day 1 of therapy until we got back to the apartment.

I don't even remember the drive back. I can't remember if I ever looked up or if Darling tried to speak to me. I just blinked and was standing at the bathroom mirror, staring into a face much like my own but with terrified eyes, reddened cheeks, a reddened nose, and a fat lip bearing teeth marks. These oceans of blues and wisps of gray with spidery red blood vessels invading in from the corners of my eyes where a band of reflections grew, and grew, and grew until my eyes snapped shut, until I retreated to the dark quiet, and warm saltwater fell from them.

My teeth hurt, my chest hurt, my fingers ached from how tightly I was gripping the sink. Hurt so bad I thought they might snap under the pressure of my own muscles crushing my fingertips against unforgiving shitty fucking composite—I couldn’t have that; I need my hands to cook—but I couldn’t override my body to make it stop. The ache in my jaw was so intense that I waited for the searing pain of a tooth cracking because surely, one of them would go, right? This is the part of emotions I can’t stand: the lack of control. I had no control. My body was just doing what it wanted to without my consent, and the only choice I had in the matter was how many times I’d cuss out whatever made me like this for it.

Fuck you.

There. Have another one.

I'm not a crier. I don't fucking cry, okay? I couldn't, because if I did, Mikey or ma would twist the knife further or Nat would catch some heat trying to protect me from them or sometimes all of the above. Why are you fucking crying, you baby? You're not a child. Stop fucking crying. Do you see what I did all day for all of you? Am I crying? Then you shouldn't be fucking crying either.

I hate seeing people cry. It twists something deep inside me, under my diaphragm, almost tucked up against my spine. And not because I want to fix it or make them feel better—really, I only have the energy to worry about Nat or Darling feeling better. I can do something for them. They don't reject me, so it can hurt, and I can try to fix it. No, I hate seeing people get to cry. I hate that they can sob like fucking children over the smallest shit and no one, least of all me, tells them that they're being fucking babies. I used to be a human too, you know? Why couldn't people treat me like that? Why do you get to cry, and I don't? Why do I got to hold my shit together?

"Carmy? Baby?”

Shit, and now Darling’s seen me.

I instinctively swiped away the stupid tears, turned my back to her, clawed for the words to explain to her that I was fine, she didn’t see anything. Reflexes baked into my being from too long a lifetime of being chastised for the act of being human. For daring to feel so much emotion that it’d trigger my body’s reflex to cry. That’s the thing—it’s so fucking human to do so, but no one’s ever treated me like a fucking human, have they? I’ve forever only been worthy of consideration when I served a purpose, I’ve forever been a means or a tool until Darling.

That’s the thing about trauma that they don’t tell you, by the way. They do tell you it’s gonna get worse when you try to get better. But how that happens? How worse is actually a thousand little things that all cut you up like glass shards? Nah, they don’t tell you that shit. You go headfirst in the deep end and get water down your throat and in your eyes and you don’t know which way is up and your legs cramp up and then, and then, and then… Sure, you get a better sense of all the shit you’ve survived, and much like the fleeting ten seconds after avoiding wrecking out on the side of the interstate where your heart slams into your throat because you realize how close to death you were, you spiral down into a pit of despair at how much deeper you’re in that you ever realized. You also get less tolerant to more damage. Shit starts to hurt because you’re not numb anymore. The tiniest shit starts to hurt. It’s maddening.

Darling spun me by my shoulders and clasped me in a hug. My hands planted on her ribs of their own accord, intending to push her away.

“Baby, it’s okay!” she hissed.

I froze.

“It’s okay to cry. I’m right here, Carmy. I got you.”

Her cold fingers wove into my hair, tucked my face into the crook of her neck, arm wrapped around my shoulders and yanked me in. She crushed me in a hug, and I caged her in my grip in response. It ripped something raw in my chest, being held so tightly, being held like she wanted me there. Like I wasn’t a waste of space or time or effort. I got you. I had a life ring, for once. I’m the best swimmer I know, but this time, I didn’t have to fight the tide. Darling would keep me from drowning. I clung to her, gasped in a breath, and—without my consent. Emotions never have consent—choked out a sob.

Darling allowed me to cry.

Tags: @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899 @carmenberzattosgf

#cb therapy files #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader

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runawrites-blog · 11 months ago

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Until The Break Of Dawn Ch. 3 (Josh Washington x Reader)

Summary: After a terrible Ouija board session, you and Josh go to the shed to turn the lights on and take your mind off things. It turns out to be a terrible idea. (Female Reader) Warnings: Implied Smut at the beginning, Talk about Josh's grief and his mental health issues, Reader having a breakdown about Josh's apparent disappearance, Mentions of her father's death. Specific warnings will be posted in the notes of each chapter. No Y/N, Petnames (Honey) Author's Note: You can find the previous chapter here, although the fanfiction is complete on AO3, I won't post the next chapter until tomorrow because it's just such an ordeal copying it all over to Tumblr. Hang in tight! Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49644949/chapters/125303695#workskin

“You two cannot be serious.”

Josh just shrugged, leaning against the doorway and making sure to keep his body between you and his friends, shielding you from view as you covered yourself up. Ashley looked a little embarrassed at the realization that she and Chris had just interrupted an intimate moment between two of her friends. Chris on the other hand was giving Josh a smug grin, crossing his arms and laughing at you rolling your eyes behind your boyfriend.

“You two cannot be serious.” You threw back jokingly, pulling Josh’s flannel close around your body, thankful for it being on the longer side. “You seriously went to get a Ouija board? Where did you even get that?”

“Of course, we got a Ouija board. While you two snuck off to get busy we put so much work into finding the board.” Chris laughed and held it up. “We want to talk to some ghosts. Don’t tell me you’re scared!”

“Scared? Please, you are always the one throwing around popcorn and screaming when you watch horror movies together with me and Josh.” You grinned, moving closer to Josh so you could rest your chin on his shoulder. “I remind you of the time we watched The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and you threw the bowl across the room when Leatherface first appeared.”

Josh nodded in agreement, leaning his head against yours. “You are the scaredy-cat here. My girlfriend and I have been watching horror movies together since Middle School. A little Ouija board session won’t scare us.”

“Depends on who we contact.” Ashley threw in before turning to you with an expecting look. “Are you two up for it?”

“If you give us five minutes to get dressed.”

Chris and Ashley agreed, stating they’d wait downstairs before leaving. Josh closed the door and turned back to you, raising an eyebrow at you wearing his flannel. Without another word he came over and took your face into his hand, kissing you deeply. But you pulled back quickly, chuckling at his ministrations.

“Don’t get distracted. We have to be downstairs in five minutes.”

“I admit, five minutes might be a bit too short for me to take you to the bone zone.” Josh joked before grabbing onto the fabric of his flannel. “I love seeing you in my clothes but I’ll need this back. Sorry, Honey.”

“It’s fine. I’d get too cold in that anyway. I prefer my knitted sweater.” You chuckled and took off his flannel before handing it to him. “That being said, can I snatch one of your shirts to sleep in tonight?”

“Sure.”

Josh gave you another kiss on the cheek before he started to get dressed again. You did the same and watched him from where you were standing. He seemed a lot more tense than before and you wondered if the idea of using a spirit board was the reason for that.

“Josh, are you sure you’re fine with using the spirit board?” You asked softly. “I know before you left for the lodge you told me you didn’t want me to constantly worry about you and to just have a fun time with everyone else but I’m a little worried.”

“I’m fine.” Josh said swiftly, a little too quickly for it to sound convincing. “Really, don’t worry about me.”

You were quiet for a few seconds before approaching him again. “Are you sure? If you feel uncomfortable with us trying to contact spirits in this place, we can do literally anything else, Sweetheart.”

“Honey, I’m fine.” He promised you, turning to you and meeting your eyes which immediately helped to calm you down a little because Josh tended to avert eye contact when he was feeling bad and didn’t want to let anyone onto his feelings. “If it gets too much, I’ll let you know.”

“I just hope this is not another attempt at a prank.”

“Let’s get going.”

When the two of you made it downstairs, Sam was waiting for Josh, inquiring about the hot water. The two of them ventured into the basement while you looked around for a place to use the spirit board with Ashley. It didn’t take Josh and Sam long to come back, and when they did they did so screaming because Chris had played a prank on them, unbeknownst to either you or Ashley. While she joked around about Chris joining a monastery and taking a vow of silence after seeing him wearing a monk’s robes you made sure Josh was alright.

“Are you alright, Josh?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He promised, giving you an earnest smile. “I thought it was hilarious. If there’s anyone you should worry about, it’s Sam.”

“Chris freaked me out so much!” Sam complained, giving Chris a small glare. “And now I gotta go up two flights of stairs in this dark lodge on my own.”

Josh turned to her with a laugh. “I’ll escort you to the bathroom like your royal guard.”

“Noble.” You joked and gave him a small peck on the cheek. “We’ll set everything up while you’re gone.”

“Good idea.”

The two of them left and you went with Ashley and Chris to set up the spiritboard. You were still worried that they were planning on playing a prank on Josh because everyone in your friend group simply adored pranks and practical jokes. Chris scaring Josh and Sam didn’t help ease your worries, so you decided to simply ask them about their plans. But just as you were about to do so, Ashley spoke and turned to you.

“Aren’t you a bit jealous?”

“Of who?”

“I mean, Josh seems pretty close to Sam.”

“Ash!” Chris hissed quietly but stopped when he heard you laugh, turning to look at you. “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, sliding your lighter you’d used to light up the candles into your pocket, and waved her off. “They’re friends. He can have female friends just the same as I can have male friends. I’m friends with Matt, Mike, and you, Chris. So why can’t he be friends with the girls?”

“They seem so close, though. Sam was holding onto Josh’s arm when they came out of the cellar and now he’s getting her to the bathroom.”

“Ash, I’m not jealous.” You promised, smiling at her in earnest. “They are close but I know they are nothing more than friends. I trust Josh and I trust Sam because he is my boyfriend and she is one of my best friends.”

Ashley was about to say something else when Josh entered, stopping in the door to take in the scene and the candles all around. He gave an impressed laugh and put his hands on his hips.

“We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Is Sam alright?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. “She isn’t too freaked out, is she?”

“No, she was just a bit scared of walking through the lodge in the dark.”

“Understandable.” Ashley chuckled before sitting down. “Are you going to turn on the lights in here any time soon?”

“After this session, I’ll head to the shed to do so.” Josh nodded and moved toward the table. “I thought your prank was funny, Chris.”

Chris grinned at his best friend and clapped him on the back. “Glad at least one person thinks so. Are you ready?”

Josh nodded and walked up next to you, pulling back your chair. “Let’s do this.”

“Thanks.” You smiled and sat down. “Josh, if this gets too much--”

“I will tell you. Don’t worry.”

“We’ll have fun. Don’t worry.” Chris smiled. “Ouija board sessions are fun.”

But the session was not fun. No more than ten minutes in, everyone had to agree that this was the polar opposite of fun. Ashley had gotten up and was pacing the room, trying to figure out who had moved the piece to spell out words regarding the twins and their death while Chris was trying to calm her down. You were furious with the two of them, convinced that they had moved the piece to mess with Josh and your boyfriend seemed inconsolable, physically distancing himself from the table and snapping at his friends for how messed up their presumed prank was. It was the tears welling up in Josh’s eyes that made you jump up from your chair.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you two?” You snapped at Chris and Ashley, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who pretends to be someone’s missing sister in a Ouija board session?”

“I didn’t move the piece, I swear! It must have been Chris!”

“It wasn’t me, either!” Chris defended himself, looking back at Josh with wide eyes. “This is legit. We contacted a real spirit.”

“No, you guys are trying to mess with--”

Josh interrupted you, voice tight with tears. “It’s not legit and we didn’t contact a spirit, Chris! I don’t know if you thought this would somehow help me with my grief but this-- this is just messed up!”

With that, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Swearing quietly, you geared up to follow him but Chris grabbed your wrist, making you turn back to him and Ashley.

“Maybe you should give him some space to calm down.”

“Let go of my arm.” You snapped and shook your head. “I need to check on Josh after your fucked up little prank. Let me go.”

“I swear it wasn’t us trying to mess with him.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” You pulled your arms from Chris’ light grasp and marched toward the door. “But all I care about right now is making sure Josh is alright.”

You quickly ran after Josh and when you caught up with him he was just about to go outside. When he heard you calling out to him, he turned and you felt your heart ache when you saw the tears staining his cheeks.

“Honey, please leave me alone.” He said in a strained voice, pushing open the front door and stalking out into the snow. “I want to be alone right now. I’ll be fine.”

“Josh, I don’t think leaving you alone after what just happened is a good idea.” You insisted, following him outside and ignoring how cold it was without your jacket. “I want to help you. Please let me.”

“I said I’ll be fine!”

“Joshua, please, don’t just leave.” You quickly approached him now that he had turned toward you, fighting the tears that gathered in your eyes at seeing him so distraught. “If you really want to be alone, I will go back inside but I need to know that you will be alright, that you took your meds today, and that you’re safe out here in the dark.”

After a few seconds of silence, Josh sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry for being harsh with you. I appreciate you trying to help but I-- I really don’t want to talk about or-- or think about what just happened.”

“Then we won’t talk about it.” You promised and grabbed his hand in both of yours. “All I want to do is to make sure you’re alright.”

“This is so messed up.” Josh whispered, a few fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “I just-- I know it’s a prank or whatever the fuck that was supposed to be but-- but for a second I was almost hopeful. It’s so stupid, I know.”

Without another word you wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his shoulder and squeezing him tightly. “It’s not stupid at all, Sweetheart. I’m sorry they tricked you like that.”

Josh stilled for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you and resting his cheek against your head. “Thank you for coming after me. Maybe you were right and being alone isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Aren’t I always right?”

That small joke got a chuckle out of Josh and you smiled at the sound, relishing in the way his chest moved against your body with the laughter. “Of course you are.”

“Want to go back inside?”

“Actually, I need to go to the maintenance shed to turn the power on. Do you want to come along?”

“Sure.” You nodded before pulling back and nodding your head toward the lodge behind you. “But we should really put on jackets beforehand.”

“Come on.”

When the two of you got back inside Ashley and Chris had disappeared but you didn’t mind because you were still angry at them for tricking Josh -- even if they had denied doing so. Figuring they had wandered off to another room of the lodge you grabbed your jacket and shrugged it on as Josh put on his vest. And within the next ten minutes, you and Josh were on the way to the shed, you holding onto his arm and him shining the flashlight around.

“How much further is it to the shed?”

Josh looked down at you for a second before looking back at the trail. “Not much further, I promise. Why?”

“I’m freezing.”

To your surprise, Josh stopped in his tracks and you turned to him again, about to urge him to keep going when he pulled his arm from your grip to take the scarf he was wearing. Before you could protest he was already wrapping it around your neck and you felt any objections immediately disappear when you realized the scarf smelled like Josh. With a small smile, you looked up at him and pulled it a bit closer around your neck.

“You’re the sweetest. But won’t you get cold?”

“As I said, I tend to run hot. And besides, we’ll be back at the lodge in no time.” He said with a smile before holding his arm back out to you. “Want to hang on?”

You nodded and took his arm again, holding onto it as you two once more began to move toward the shed in the distance. “It’s not only cold but also slippery.”

“The way to the maintenance shed is at least not that long. Mike and Jess aren’t that lucky.” Josh joked. “Remember that one winter when you came up here with my family and my parents let us stay at the guest cabin? It took us so long to get there. I’m like, ninety percent certain Mike and Jess aren’t even halfway to the cabin, yet.”

“That’s on them more than the distance, though.” You chuckled, looking up at Josh with a grin. “They always mess around so much it really slows them down. I walked from the cable car station to the lodge with them and it took me ten minutes longer than usual because of their fierce snowball fight.”

“Did they throw any at you? If so, I’ll have to get some revenge on them tomorrow and defend your honor!”

“Please, do so.”

“Alright, that’s the shed over there. I suggest you hold the flashlight while I try to get the power working. You have steady hands, right?”

“You know how good I am with my hands, Sweetheart.”

Josh just smirked at that and opened the door to the shed, letting you step inside and then entering after you. He got to fixing the power as soon as he was inside and you stood back, shining the flashlight to illuminate the shed for him. It was then that you heard a twig snap outside and winced, quickly turning your head toward the open door and just about managing to catch a glimpse of something moving back into the treeline. Your wince moved the flashlight and Josh looked up, worry clear on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw something.” You whispered, now fully turning toward the open door and shining your flashlight into the darkness in the hopes of making out whatever you had seen moving around the tree line. “It disappeared into the woods. Josh, you said we’d be alone up here and that there wasn’t anyone else but us around.”

“There shouldn’t be.” Josh said and quickly stood up, taking the flashlight from your hands. He moved around your body so he was between you and the door. “You stay here and I’ll check it out, alright?”

“What if it’s someone dangerous? You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Please just stay here and wait for me.” He assured you with a comforting smile. “I will be right back. I promise.”

Despite your uneasy feeling, you nodded and watched him leave the shed. You tried to keep calm, to not let the fears and worries brought on by your past overcome you. But it wasn’t more than two minutes later that you heard a blood-curdling scream from the outside and you immediately ran out of the shed to check on Josh. But he was nowhere in sight.

“Josh!” You called out to him, trying to keep your panic at bay. “Joshua, where are you? Say something, please!”

But there was no answer and you were left with the terrible realization that you were alone, left in the middle of the woods with your boyfriend missing. Fear and panic quickly settled in. This couldn’t be happening -- not again. You were at a loss of what to do and the tears that rose in your eyes only made it harder to see anything around you properly. Yet, you still set out for the woods and in the direction you had seen the figure vanish in before Josh had left.

“Josh, please answer me!” You called out, voice laced with tears. “Say something -- anything! I can’t-- I don’t know what to do!”

You kept running through the woods, slapping branches away left and right as they obstructed your path. At some point, you had all but begun sobbing but you didn’t care. Finding Josh was all that mattered. Eventually, you got back onto one of the trails and realized you were once again in eyeshot of the lodge. But Josh was still nowhere to be found and the sobs wracking your body only grew more panicked.

“Josh!” You called out once more, supporting your weight on a wooden railing as you cried your eyes out. “Joshua!”

It was all so horribly familiar.

Your father had disappeared on a family camping trip eight years ago when you had been no older than twelve. Like most long weekends, your family had been hiking and camping in the woods near your town but the trip had taken a terrible turn when your father had gone missing while collecting firewood. The search had lasted for hours but no one had found any trace of him and eventually, your family had contacted Mountain Rescue. You had never seen him again.

Now you quickly decided to call for help, knowing that there was little you could do on your own and knowing that you needed the help of mountain rescuers or rangers. But when you reached for your phone in your pocket you realized that you had left it at the lodge. After surveying the area, you decided that making a straight line through the woods would take you back to the lodge much faster and you quickly took off.

But as you made your way through the woods, you suddenly felt the ground underneath you give out. With a panicked scream, you tried to grab onto something to keep you from falling but it was hopeless and you plummeted into the darkness.

#fanfiction #textpost #writing #until dawn #until dawn x reader #until dawn imagine #josh washington x reader #josh washington imagine #josh until dawn #until dawn josh #josh washington #my writing

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ohtobeleah · 1 year ago

Note

I feel like everyone is scared about the finale lol

Eeeppp Part One baby let’s go!! I’m so excited for this! Three parts over three days! It’s all been leading towards this!

Warnings: Major TW for domestic abuse. MAJOR TW for child abuse. Domestic violence, trauma, Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Platonic Jake Seresin x F!reader

Word Count: 6.1k

-> Read Terms Of Endearment From The Beginning: Series Finale Part One | Part Two | Part Three

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

You had spent all day staring at the ceiling, making friends with the shadows on your wall. You had spent all night hearing voices in your head—your own subconscious telling you that you should get some sleep, because tomorrow might be good for something.

You had to hold on, but you felt like you were headed straight for a mental breakdown. As you heard the doorknob turn from the outside of your bedroom, you knew exactly why you felt the way you did.

“Seresins here.” Jaidyn hissed as he stood in the doorway. He’d had you locked in the bedroom the pair of you shared for two days. It had been a punishment for the fact you couldn’t get your newborn to stop crying. Odette was having trouble latching, Jaidyn couldn’t stand her squealing, couldn’t stand how utterly hopeless you were at being a mother. He’d dragged you into the bedroom two days ago and took the door handle with him. So that’s exactly where you and your newborn baby girl stayed for two whole days. “Don’t try anything stupid or I swear to fucking god Y/n I’ll beat the ever living Christ out of you and that parasite daughter of yours.”

All you did was nod silently in response as you cradled your daughter to your chest and hurried out of the bedroom that had kept you contained for two entire days. Sure you had the ensuite, but those four bland walls were driving you insane.

“There’s my two favourite girls!” Jake beamed as he held out a bunch of flowers for you. You were a new first time mum, in Jake's eyes you deserved to be showered with love, affection, appreciation and supported to the fullest. “You haven’t answered my calls the past two days, I was starting to get worried.” There was an underlying question in Jake's statement, the kind that wanted to know if you were alright. The kind of underlying undertone that made you want to scream to the heavens above that you needed help, that you’d become somewhat of a prison in your own home, in your own relationship. “You doing alright mama?” Jake kissed your cheek tenderly as he embraced you and looked down at the sleeping tot in your arms. “Hi baby girl.”

When you didn’t answer immediately, Jaidyn cautiously pushed a framed photo of you and Jake off the hallway table that was situated just behind you. The crashing sound of the shattered picture frame made you jump with a gasp that evidently woke Odette up. She wasn’t sleeping well as it was and quite frankly neither were you between the isolation and malnourishment. Things weren’t alright, you weren’t alright, but you were too afraid to speak up.

“S-Sorry—“ You stuttered out. Jake frowned at the way you looked so scared, how you held your two week old with all the protectiveness you had. “Just been a little busy with Dotty here, I’m fine, I promise.”

“What’s a guy like you doing checking in on us on a Friday night anyway Seresin?” Jaidyn interrupted before Jake could press the conversation further. “Thought you would have had a hot date lined up or something?”

“Nah, not tonight—“ Jake sighed, he was still trying to get a read on what your expression was trying to tell him. “Thought I’d stop by and help out, surely with a newborn around there'd be a bunch of things that I could do.” Within a split second of Jake offering to help, Jaidyn was on him. He came around to snake an arm around your shoulder and you forgot how to breathe, his touch brought pain and your body had connected that.

“We’re fine, aren’t we darlin?” Jaidyn smiled before he leaned in to kiss your cheek. Through a painfully forced smile, you nodded. Terrified as to what may have happened if you didn’t. “No need Jake, really, we’re good.” It was as if Jaidyn was reminding you who you belonged to in the moment.

“You should totally go out Jake, it’s me who had a baby, not you—“ You tried to settle the now fussy newborn in your arms but Jake could tell you were struggling. You weren’t okay and he knew it. There was something wrong but the last thing he ever thought would be wrong was Jaidyn himself. Jake thought it was postpartum. That’s why he was checking in—he knew you didn’t have a good relationship with your family, he knew you and Jaidyn had been on the rocks the last few months, it was none of his business but he knew, he knew that your circle was small. “I’m so fine, you really don’t have to do a welfare check—I’d tell you if I needed help.” It was lie after lie after lie. “But I really do appreciate that you came by, here—I’ll get you a drink and we can—“

“Don’t you remember?” Jaidyn interrupted. “We’ve got dinner at my buddies place at seven.” You knew there was no dinner, but you pretended the thought had slipped your mind.

“Oh I totally forgot.” You pretended to be shocked at yourself. “Baby brain, what can I say.” Jake decided that seeing you alive was good enough for him, he trusted you enough to believe you’d tell him if you needed his help. He’d pump the breaks a little. Give you some space. “Maybe you can come round another time and we’ll have dinner together?”

“You know where to find me.” Jake replied softly as he handed you the bunch of flowers he’d stopped by Sheldon’s Green Grocer to get you. You took them gently from his grasp and when your fingers touched his, you wanted to cry. It had been the first gentle touch you’d experienced in two days. “Please, if you need anything, I’m only a call away.”

“I know.” You held yourself together as Jake said his goodbyes to Jaidyn. You knew the two were on rocky grounds but for your sake Jake played nice. He hated the fact Jaidyn hadn’t been there for the birth of your daughter. He hated how there were so many arguments he’d overheard and hated the way Jaidyn’s treated you. But you always had a defense, always had a reason to want to defend the guy. So he kept his options to himself. Because who was he to judge you.

The second Jake shut the front door, Jaidyn. Locked it. He stood in the foyer of the house that had once been yours, he’d managed to take it from underneath you. It was his now. He’d forced you to sign that dotted line.

“Room, now.” He barked as he snatched the bouquet from you.

“I can settle her if you give me two minutes.” You pleaded but Jaidyn wasn’t having it. He wanted you to know that bringing that little girl into the world against his wishes was what had sealed your fate.

“Go back to the bedroom, before I flog the ever living fuck out of you.” You didn’t fight back, you complied with his command to protect your daughter. You could recognise how quickly a bad situation was being critically insane. “Daddy dearest doing a drop by to see his fucking spawn doesn’t bode well for you—“

When you sat down on your side of the bed, Jaidyn stood before you as he pushed some of your hair behind your ear, the gentle touch was quickly followed by a harsh slap to the cheek. He didn’t hold back an ounce of force—but you didn’t let a peep escape. With the pad of his thumb and his fingers, Jaidyn squished your cheeks together as he turned your head towards where he stood. Forcing you to look up at him.

“I haven’t killed you because I love you, you know I love you right baby?” He spat. It was as twisted as love could ever get. “I’ll kill you the second I don’t love you anymore, so pray I never stop.”

“I know.” You mumbled out as Dot continued to fuss in your arms. “I know—“ Your voice shook with fear.

“And you me too, don’t you?” Jaidyn smiled maniacally. He was in control, he had you under his control and he loved it. No one knew, not a soul. He had everyone fooled.

“With all my heart.” You replied softly as he let go of your face.

“So be a good girl and stay here.” Jaidyn had a plan and his next step had already begun, he was slowly beginning to alienate you from Jake, your one lifeline. “I’m gonna go to Jason’s for a while.” It wasn’t like you to ask questions, so when you found yourself asking when Jaidyn would be back your heart sank into your chest. Fuck. Here it came.

“When will you be back?” With the force of a thousand suns Jaidyn spun around and connected his entire fist with your eye. Immediately at the force of it you began to cry. At the sound of your cry Odette began to cry too. Against your bed you laid a sobbing broken shell of your former self. All with your baby girl still in your arms. She was just two weeks old.

Jaidyn was becoming unpredictable, irrational. He was hungry for power and power he fed off. But the switch really flipped when he made his own connection that night. The connection that his jeans felt a little tighter at your cries of pain. That blood rushed to his length at the sight of you. He enjoyed your pain far too much to ever consider stopping.

The cattle prod in the closet was dead, but there was a thought there for a fleeting moment that Jaidyn thought about buying a new battery for it. He remembered the night he gave you that pretty little brand on your ass. You were his, you could never be anyone else’s. He’d kill you before you’d ever be anyone else’s. You were his and only his. But instead of changing out the batteries he settled for watching you and your daughter cry on your bed. It was a sight he’d imagine a little later when he got home and needed a release.

“What part of my plans are any of your fucking business.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Rhett Abbott could barely keep his eyes open when he entered the threshold of his brother's home. The dim orange hume of the free standing lamp coming from the living room told him that Bob was still up. The sun was just about to kiss the horizon good morning—but the light had yet to make its appearance in the early hours. Everyone should have been sleeping soundly—yet everyone was on high alert.

“I tell ya what Rob when I agreed to come out here I didn’t expect to be—“ When Rhett rounded the corner he was sure he’d see his brother sitting perched on the couch or passed out from the lack of sleep everyone was getting. But much to Rhett’s delight it wasn’t Robert Floyd—. “Uh, Hi?”

It was Natasha Phoenix Trance.

“Hey Rhett.” Phoenix smiled softly under the hume of the lamp she was reading under. “Bob called me not too long after you guys left for the hospital, said he didn’t wanna be alone.” With a gentle nod Rhett entered this living room slowly, his eyes never left Natasha’s as she watched him move around. He looked all sorts of out of place. “How’s Odette?”

“She’s safe, with her mum—“ Rhett answered, a little less gruff than he normally would. Suddenly he thought back to how hard he’d been on Amilia in the emergency room—fuck, feelings were a son of a bitch weren’t they.

“And Hangman?” Phoenix raised a questioning brow. She didn’t want Rhett to feel like he was being interrogated, but she cared about her friends, her colleagues. All Rhett did was sigh out as he sat down on the lounge next to Phoenix, not too far away that it had been a deliberate act to stay away but not too close to make her uncomfortable.

“Last I checked little miss gumtrees and koala bears had that situation taken care of so I left it at that.” Phoenix chuckled, she’d heard about Chelsea’s little sister and how she’d managed to captivate the heart of none of the Hangman himself. “He’s fine, a couple of stitches, a concussion—but just like a roach he’ll survive.”

It had been a long night, Rhett could barely keep his eyes open but with Phoenix sitting right next to him looking all sorts of angelic and beautiful, he’d force his eyelids open for just a little longer.

“Bob said you did a pretty great thing tonight, advocating for Fe.” Phoenix finally closed her book entirely before she placed it down on the little coffee table sitting beside her. “She might not act like it but you’ve been a big help these past couple of weeks.”

“Yeah well—“ She could see the rose pink colour starting to kiss Rhett’s cheeks. He knew he did a good thing, he was a good person. He just didn’t know it because no one had ever really told him. “Kid needed her mum and besides, I take anything Rob says with a grain of salt.” Rhett yawned as he stretched his arms above his head a little more dramatically than he probably normally would have, but the way his action had Natasha laughing softly in the early hours of the morning made his heart skip a beat for the first time in a long time. “He doesn’t think that highly of me.”

“Well, between you and me Bobs pretty happy to have you here.” Phoenix explained as she settled further into herself. She wasn’t shy about the fact she knew Rhett was staring at her in a way she never thought she’d want him to let alone encourage. “What would it take you to stay? you know—after this whole charade is over and there isn’t anyone left to save?”

“It would have to be a series of unfortunate events, Lieutenant Trance.” Rhett smiled out of the corner of his mouth under the dim light. “North Island isn’t the place for me.” The two sat in the comfortable silence of Robert Floyd’s living room for a moment as Rhett listened to the bedroom door open and closed from down the hall. He knew he’d be listening. “Don’t tell him I said this but I didn’t mind being needed for once.” Phoenix pretended to zip her lips shut with her fingers as she felt her own crimson hume appearing against the apples of her cheeks. In the fleeting moments that passed the two of them by, Rhett thought he may as well shoot his shot. “Do you uh—wanna grab a coffee with me sometime?”

“I’m free later on today if you are.” Rhett could barely control the smile that forced the corners of mouth to pin to his cheeks. “I know a place.”

“Yeah, yeah well all right then Miss Trance—“ Rhett couldn’t have been happier, he had a coffee date with a beautiful girl to take his mind off things for just a little while. “You’ve got yourself a date.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Abbott.”

Bob heard it loud and clear as he padded down the hall—from the gesture of brotherly need to the almost unnerving idea of his brother and his front seater starting a casual fling, he smiled to himself before he heard Rhett sigh and say his goodnight or good morning or whatever the hell you wanted to call it to Phoenix before he stood.

The two brothers met in the hall with a passing glance that resembled something of a

rekindlement. They both wanted to fix what they had broken over the years, call it a twin thing. But the pair were just as strong headed and stubborn as each other. Rhett knew it took a hell of a lot for Bob to reach out—and Bob knew it took all Rhett’s might to drop what he was doing to come help.

“Rob—“ Rhett nodded in passing.

“Rhett—“ Bob greeted his brother through a yawn. “Are you just getting in?”

“Yeah—“ Rhett didn’t see much reason to prolong the conversation. “Bradshaw said if you swing by his place later on there’s a beer in the fridge.” Rhett took notice of the way Bob shook his head and let out a small but audible scoff. “Hey if it’s free and you don’t want it, bring it home yeah?”

Bob didn’t mind the passiveness of it all. He didn’t mind the way Rhett said what he needed to say and left it at that. It was better than the two of them not talking at all. So he nodded and pressed his lips together in a firm line, committing it to memory to bring that beer back for Rhett.

“Sure thing.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Okay so, You’ll need to present to the ER in ten days to have those stitches removed from your head.” The Doctor discharging Jake after his overnight stay on the grounds of monitoring his condition, explained. “Keep them dry but if you feel like you need to you can lightly dab at the area with a damp washcloth to help keep the area clean—perhaps a trusted friend or partner could help you with that.” Jake didn’t say a word but his eyes traveled over to where Amilia stood reading some random educational infographic that caught her eye on the wall of Jake's hospital room.

“You’ll also need to take these with food and water twice a day to ward off potential infection.” The doctor handed Jake a packet of antibiotics. “And no flying till that concussion is gone—“

“Gee, your bedside manner leaves something to be desired, Doc.” Amilia chuckled as she shook her head softly and came over to where Jake was sitting with his legs over the side of the hospital bed he’d stayed in overnight. With the way Jake immediately brought her close with his arm as he gently perched his open hand on her hip and his cheek on her shoulder it wouldn’t have been an overestimate to assume the pair were dating.

“You should start to feel less foggy in the next couple of days, Lieutenant.” Doctor Sullivan smiled as he shook Jake's hand. “I’m sure your girlfriend here will keep a watchful eye on you.” Jake immediately felt his heart stop beating inside his chest as his face grew hot with embarrassment. He could feel himself wanting to pull away and explain to the Doctor that the two were not in fact an item. But Amilia acknowledged the statement with grace which allowed for a far less awkward conversation to follow.

“She will.” Amilia smiled and squeezed Jake's side as she mimicked his original expression of affection and wrapped her arm around his side from behind.

“Have a good day.” Doctor Sullivan was quick to say his final goodbye before heading out on his morning rounds. Leaving both Amilia and Jake to sit in the silence.

“Okay big guy let’s get you home.” Amilia groaned as she tapped Jakes back and watched him stand. He could very much do it on his own, but he didn’t let his arm fall from around Amilias shoulder for even a second.

“You know this could be the conconcussion talking but I don’t remember ever asking you to be my girlfriend?” Jake smirked at the way Amilia nearly tripped over her own feet at his statement. “I’m not saying that it would be a bad thing either, to have you as a girlfriend.” Jake Seresin hadn’t had a girlfriend since his senior year of college and she wasn’t serious. “Just don’t remember asking—“

“You haven’t—“ Amilia squeezed Jake's hand as she stayed close to his side. She’d been there the whole night besides the hour she’d gone home to change her clothes and freshen up. “Just thought it would be easier to lie than to have that poor guy chasing his tail apologising for assuming.” It was a very good point.

“What would the answer be if I did?” Jake pressed as the two made their way to the elevator, Amilia didn’t ask why Jake pressed the third floor instead of the ground floor button. She already knew where he wanted to go. To see you. “If I asked you?” Sure of herself as a heat radiated in her cheeks, Amilia tried to keep her lips pressed together to stop herself from bashfully grinning ear to ear. She turned to Jake as he looked at her and without hesitation, he ducked to press his lips to hers in a fleeting moment.

“Guess you’ll have to find out when you ask.” Amilia smiled against Jake's lips as she pulled away. He was obsessed, infatuated and utterly head over heels for this woman he hardly knew but would throw himself in front of without even thinking. “You still owe me that date.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“It looks like you’re numbers up miss Y/l/n.” Your Doctor beamed as he entered your room for morning rounds with a smile plastered across his face that looked as if he was about to give you the greatest gift of all. “Todays the day—“ He paused at the end of your bed and watched you play with your daughter's hair as she sat between your legs as Bradley ever so carefully painted her tiny nails a bright orange. The same orange he’d done your toes in a few days prior. “I'm signing those damn discharge papers you’ve been hounding me about.”

“No way Dotty, did you hear that?” You tickled her side softly and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Mama gets to come home with you and Roo bear today!” It was the day you’d been waiting for, been praying on and wishing every time you closed your eyes that tomorrow would be the day.

“We’ll still need to do your finale assessments and assuming that you pass the physicality of the tasks you’ll be good to go.”

“She’ll jump through hoops to get home, a few formalities are the least of her worries. I can tell you that with certainty.” Bradley added as he looked your way with proper heart eyes. You’d never seen eyes light up with so much love and unconditional affection before. But then there was Bradley Bradshaw and he was all yours.

“Give us a little time to get prepped and I’ll bring the team in for some assessments and based on that we’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.” It was truly the best news you’d ever heard. You were going home. Finally.

Odette couldn’t have been more excited if she tried, it was hard being three and trying to hide that amount of excitement in your system. It was bound to happen eventually, Bradley honestly hadn’t thought that the secret would have been kept for this long. Dot had given it her very best try, so when the secret was slipping out of her tiny three year old mouth he couldn’t even find it in his heart to be the slightest bit mad.

“Tooster, does mama get to come home to our new home?” You frowned at your daughter’s words as you played with the bands that still kept your jaw from opening too much. “To your home?”

“Bradley—“ You warned softly as you turned your attention to the love of your life. “What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been up to nothing, I’ve got no idea what she’s talking about.” Bradley tried to play dumb, but you saw the way his mustache twitched. To the untrained eye it would have gone unnoticed—but you’d become all too familiar with Roosters small tells. “She’s just—“

“My ooms gonna be lellow.” Dot looked over at her Tooster like she knew she’d just thrown him under the bus and under the bus hard. “And mamas gonna share with Tooster.”

“Mamas gonna share what with Tooster?” Jake interrupted as he and Amilia headed on into your hospital room. “You tell her that you moved all her stuff to yours?” There was something in your eyes that told Jake he’d just let the cat out of the bag, but it wasn’t a glare. It wasn’t a look of rage or anger—it was something softer and more full of thankfulness. “Oh hang on.” Jake cupped his hand, the one that wasn’t in Amilias, over his mouth. “Fuck.”

“You moved us into your place already?” The way you asked, already told Bradley everything he needed to know, you were thrilled. “Rooster you didn’t have to do that, I could have helped when—“

“No need.” Was all Bradley replied with as he stood to place a gentle kiss atop your head. His hand fell softly to your good shoulder. “There's still a few things that I need to take care of, but the majority of your stuff and Dot's stuff is already sorted.”

“My doll house is at Toosters mama.” Dot interrupted as Jake began making his way over to collect her for a hug. “In my bedoom.”

“Well isn’t that just super awesome, that means we can play with your dollies when we get home doesn’t it?” You beamed as bright as you could as you hugged your daughter from behind with one good arm.

It was then you fully turned your attention to the woman standing beside Jake as he reached in to lift Odette up. You didn’t recognise her in the slightest bit but only assumed that she was the woman who Jake had taken one hell of a liking to.

“You must be Amilia?” You asked through a tight lipped smile as you held your hand out to greet her. “Thankyou for everything you’ve done for me and my family.” Amilia didn’t expect the praise she received but nevertheless she accepted it with enough grace in her system that she didn’t make a fool of herself. “Must be something really special about you if you’ve got Jake all in a flurry.” You teased at the man who now held your daughter tight on his hip. “He isn’t the biggest fan of monogamy.”

“Hey—“ Jake hissed. “I do alright thank you very much.” Amilia laughed it off as she watched Jake and Dot interact like they were one in the same. He felt like he’d failed her once more last night, but Jake couldn’t be too hard on himself. Jaidyn was a maniac and he had very much proven that. Something definitely wasn’t right in his mind.

“Amilia came by last night to see how you were doing after Rhett brought Dot up.” Bradley explained. “You were sleeping but she stayed and kept me company for a little while.” Just the thought of knowing someone had been there for Rooster made your heart swell. “She saw I wasn’t doing so well.”

“Well that settles it then, you and I are gonna have to grab a coffee and get to know each other once I’m out of this place.” It was a bittersweet moment for everyone in the room, on one side of the situation they were all excited to get you home. They all knew how much you hated being trapped in the hospital. But on the other side, once you were out there was no telling what could happen. At least in the hospital you were safe. No one could hurt you.

“We should probably talk about a few things before the doctors come back Fe.” Bradley sighed. “Jake, Ams, will you guys take Odette to get some breakfast?”

“I reckon we can handle that.” Jake agreed. “Give those doctors hell Fe, you're coming home.” Jake's pep talk was short and sweet, as he turned to say something to Amilia, you saw the bandage on the back of his head.

“Wait, why do you have a bandage on the back of your head?” You asked Jake through a frown. “What happened?” The panic had begun to rise. “Jake?” The longer anyone went without answering you the more your blood pressure rose. “Guys? Holy shit what happened!”

“All that matters is I’m fine.” Jake replied, it was a conversation left for Rooster to have, to loop you in and figure out what to do next. “Come on Dotty, let’s give mama some time to rest yeah? Oz and I are gonna get some breakfast and you’re coming with us.”

“It was nice to meet you.” Amilia smiled as softly as she could. “Officially that is, I feel like I’ve known you for weeks now.”

“Likewise.” You acknowledge the woman who’d become an extension of your best friend. There was a spark there, you could tell. Jake looked at Amilia like she hung all the stars in the night sky just for him. When she placed a gentle hand against the small of his back to help guide him out you knew Jake wasn’t one hundred percent, he was fronting. The second Dot, Jake and Amilia were gone, you knew something was horribly wrong. “Bradley, you’re gonna tell me everything, I deserve to know what he did.”

“We don’t know what his aim was.” Bradley settled back into the chair beside your bed that had become his second home. “He cut the power in Jake's place last night.” The thought alone gave you chills. “When Jake went to see what was up he smashed a piece of two by four against the back of his head.” The silence that fell around your hospital room was as loud and as deafening as silence could be. “Good thing he was on the phone with Amilia or else who knows how long he would have been there for.”

“He didn’t hurt Dotty?” Your voice was laced with a tremendous amount of concern. “At all?” Bradley could see the way your hands shook against the blanket as you fiddled with the fabric. It was no secret to anyone around you that you were completely and utterly terrified of the father of your daughter. You’d always been completely honest about that. You weren’t brave when it came to him. You knew what he was capable of. What he could and would do.

“Nope, and we don’t know we’re he is now or what he’s up to but if i'm being completely honest with you baby—“ Bradley sighed as he finally said what had been haunting him since he saw you beaten and bloodied and nearly dead in the janitor's closet. “I don’t know how to keep you safe from him, he’s too unpredictable now.”

“Maybe I should talk to the police?” You suggested nervously. “They were here once, asked me to file charges. Maybe doing that will do something?” You really didn’t want to have to do it, but at this stage it seemed necessary. “It’ll help.”

“Maybe, but I’m not gonna tell you what to do baby.” Rooster cooed. “But maybe it’ll give you a leg up.” It was just an idea, Bradley knew you weren’t too keen on filing charges and having to go through that entire process—but it might have to be done. “I reckon what we do, is stop by the station on the way home, talk to the guys who are already involved and see what they say.”

“I can do it myself Rooster you don’t have to co—“ Before you could even finish that sentence Bradley was interrupting. He immediately shook his head and mumbled out an “ah ah ah.”

“Your business is my business and my business is your business, and this mess is our business to take care of.” Bradley leaned forward to rub his nose against yours to bring out a delicate chuckle from deep within your soul. “So we’ll do what we have to do, together.” It was a night and day comparison to what you had gotten so used to knowing. You had a partner, in every aspect of the word. Bradley Bradshaw was the love of your life.

“Okay, we do this together.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Bob Floyd was a simple man. He loved his family, he loved his friends, and he loved his career. There wasn’t a single thing he’d change. Except for maybe the strained relationship he shared with his brother.

As Bob unlocked the front door of Roosters home, everything seemed normal. He’d done this a time or two before. Bob would go over, tidy things up, sort stuff out, he’d help Rooster out while he was dealing with a situation Bob couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it was to navigate. A three year old, domestic abuse, work inquiries and so on and so forth. The least Bob felt like he could do was some dishes and vacuuming.

Bob made his way into Bradley’s kitchen in search of that beer he knew he’d forget about if he didn’t put his keys in there with it. But when Bob opened the fridge door and saw no beer bottle, he frowned. Huh, Rooster must have thought he put it there.

So Bob shrugged it off, he shut the fridge and pocketed his keys before he absentmindedly got to work pacing around the kitchen. Emptying the dishwasher full of all Dots dishwasher friendly cups and bowls and plates and spoons. Bradley had been busy preparing his house for the three year old that stole his heart. That much was adamant.

As Bob went about his business, he thought about filling the silence with some music—he knew Rooster had a speaker system hooked up to his TV unit. With a dishcloth in hand and a hum in his throat, Bob made his way around the corner into the living room where he was met with something very out of place.

The empty beer bottle, sitting pretty atop the old wooden coffee table Bradley kept when his mother had died. The second thing Bob noticed out of place in the living room was the empty mantle piece. As Bob's eyes trailed to the floor he took notice of the shattered picture framed—all broken and twisted and a mess on the floor. Then in the heavy silence of what should have been Bradley Bradshaw's empty home, he heard a click from behind him.

The click of a pin on a handgun.

“Someone should have told you to mind your own fucking business Floyd.” Jaidyn snarled, he’d had a bone to pick with Bob since the hanger. “And now here you are again, sticking your nose into shit that you know nothing about.”

“What are you doing here?” Bob turned around slowly to face the man who’d caused you and your family so much pain.

“House sitting—“ Bob showed no emotion as he held his hands up near his head. “What are you doing here?” He could recognise this wasn’t a good situation to be in. He played it cool though, masked the terror bubbling to the surface.

“Helping out.” Bob knew in that moment he had to be smart about every move he made, right now though he’d play Jaidyn’s game.

“Seems as though your offer to help out a friend might just cost you your life Bob.” Jaidyn wore a wicked smirk as he held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

With a shaking hand and a skyrocketing heartbeat, Bob reached into the back pocket of his jeans. As he flipped it over the check the screen Bob noticed three things in the quick transaction. There was a text from Rhett that had gone unread, a missed call from Fanboy, Bob had never regretted having his phone on silent more in his life, and his background. A photo of him and Rhett when they were five. Together forever trapped in a memory of the past.

“You could still walk away from all of this you know.” Bob tried to mask the fear in his voice. “Skip town, assume a new identity, start fresh.” It sounded ridiculous really but it could have been just what Jaidyn needed to hear. “I don't want any trouble, I won’t even tell no one I saw you here.”

“Oh Robert—“ Jaidyn sighed as he pocketed Bob's phone. “I really wish I didn’t have to do this.” Before Bob had a chance to say anything, Jaidyn reached for the handle of the gun and smacked Bob's temple. He went down without much of a fight. “But I gotta teach that little bitch a lesson.” With a solid kick to the gut, Bob cowered in somewhat of a fetal position—trying to protect his vital organs.

“Gotta show her that no one around her is safe, no one she loves is safe, no one who truly matters to her is safe because I will stop at nothing!” Jaidyn barked as he stomped the bottom of his boot against Bob's head, one single movement that had the Weapons System Officer down and out for the count. “Till she’s dead or killed herself.”

Unconscious & Unresponsive.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse e @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56 @seresinsaint @topguncortez @mandylove1000

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x y/n #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun bob #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 8 months ago

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Angsty fight/venting alternate ending

(Part two to this)

For @guiltyscarlet and @aceauthorcatqueen who asked for the angsty ending

CW for major character death. I’m not sure if this counts as dark!Arthur but there is murder scene so mild description of injury. There’s also self destruction from Merlin, possibly self harm, I’m not sure where it falls, and a mental breakdown or two here as well. Also canonical character death right at the end but it’s not graphic.

You’ve all been warned. You’re responsible for your online media consumption so take care of yourselves and don’t read if you think this will negatively affect you.

(Click more for angsty shit.)

I imagine this version to happen around season 5, if it was the hurt/comfort version, I’d say between season seasons 2/3 but the angst needs more time to have the full effect. Merlin is worried because of Mordred and the disir and everything else going on.

After Arthur says “Really. All you do is follow orders. It’s not hard.” Merlin looks over, angry and upset, but when he sees Arthur’s attempt at caring, tears start pooling in his eyes.

Arthur looks startled, unsure what to do, when Merlin looks away, shakes his head and whispers brokenly “Fight me” and it sounds so defeated, like really the last words of a man who’s officially given up. Arthur doesn’t move, and Merlin looks up again, something pleading in his eyes, as he begs, “Fight me. Please.”

Arthur’s in new territory now, their fights have never had anything other than frustration or anger or irritation, occasionally jealousy after that one time where he thought someone was flirting with Merlin Arthur would never admit to. But Merlin seems like he’s just going to use it to get beat up and hurt more. It goes against what they do, and he’s seen Knights fall to similar fates after such things got too far. So Arthur is terrified, he doesn’t want to lose Merlin and doesn’t know how to help so he can keep him.

So he asks “What’s going on?” Breaking the script and throwing Merlin off. Which definitely isn’t something he needs, while he’s that close to a breakdown all he really wants is to remember that the world will keep going forward so he can figure out how to keep going forward too, he really just needs a constant that he can rely on. Arthur’s attitude tends to be a pendulum swing between an array of things depending on multiple factors out of Merlin’s control so he can never figure out what side he’s going to get. So he’s resorted to their fight vents. It’s also not what he needs, but it’s consistent. He can shout or scream, throw a punch, take a punch or two, and then focus on the ache in his muscles instead of the pain in his chest and head.

Merlin doesn’t reply to Arthur’s question, instead he stands up and drops his stance, telling Arthur again to fight him. Arthur knows he isn’t going to get anywhere so he stands up too and as soon as he’s on his feet, Merlin is throwing a punch at him. Arthur manages to partially dodge, taking a hit to his shoulder instead of his face.

It’s right over the questing beast scar, if anyone’s wondering. If I was properly writing this, I’d have a parallel between Arthur’s scars from times Merlin’s saved him and where Merlin is hitting. Probably something about all the times Merlin saved him and how because they’re two sides of the same coin, destroying himself is destroying Arthur too.

Anyway.

Arthur realises how much it hurt, and how Merlin really isn’t pulling any punches now. He starts fighting back, properly defending himself while Merlin dances around him. With each punch there’s choked back sobs or hitches in his breath.

Arthur realises Merlin is crying and tries to help him with something of their normal routine. It helps Arthur, so hopefully it’ll help Merlin too. It doesn’t, of course. But he does try.

He tries taunting Merlin into talking about it, “don’t cry, your fighting skills aren’t that bad.”

Merlin growls through his tears, biting back, “Why? Not worth my tears?” As he attacks viciously and relentlessly.

It confuses Arthur, because that’s what he said about the dragonlord years ago. “You can’t cry over every fallen soldier.” Arthur bites out, dodging a particularly harsh punch aimed at his jaw. And he’s known that lesson for a long time, he kept it with him when he lost young knights while he was still a prince, all his fallen comrades, his best knight, his brother in law, all of them.

“He wasn’t a soldier!” Merlin screamed as Arthur felt his head snap to the side with a punch to his jaw. It’d definitely bruise, but he could blame it on training. “He wasn’t supposed to die!” Another punch knocks Arthur over, “I was supposed to save him!” Merlin jumps on him, and Arthur can barely process that, only just rolling out of the way from instinct alone. Merlin doesn’t move away to come after Arthur, just crumbles on the floor, punching the stone weakly while sobbing.

“It’s my fault.” He says brokenly, “I couldn’t save them, how can I save you?” His body is wracked with sobs, he can hardly see for the tears blurring his eyes, and Arthur is behind him unsure what to do.

Merlin gets a ringing in his ears, sharp and piercing and he can hear his heart beating, breath comes short to him, images of Mordred thrusting a sword into Arthur’s middle playing over and over in his head.

“I- I couldn’t- I can’t-“ he’s clutching at his throat, trying to breathe, trying to think of anything to say, as he scrambles at his neckerchief, he can’t get it off. In a moment of clarity, he desperately cries out, “Arthur?”

Arthur is there, ripping through the fabric and rubbing up and down Merlin’s back to get him to breathe.

“Why is it your responsibility to protect people better equipped to handle dangerous situations than you are?” Arthur asks quietly, not fighting anymore but Merlin shrugs him off.

“They aren’t knights.” He’s gritting his teary and the words have a bite Arthur knows means Merlin isn’t done. “Will, Freya, Balinor, they weren’t knights.” Merlin gets angrier and angrier as he’s speaking, “and I’m not some hopeless wimp like you think I am, Sire.”

Merlin pushes himself up and paces the length of the fire place. “It’s my duty to keep you safe.”

“You’re not a knight!”

Arthur stands up too, yelling in frustration at not understanding what’s going on with Merlin. He’s frustrated at Merlin for being stubborn and at himself for not knowing what to do. Clearly, Merlin wants to fight. Both times he tried letting him speak, Merlin went back to biting and anger and whatever else was left as a result of his pain. Now he’s hopelessly letting Merlin lead him but Merlin isn’t in the mental state to know what he needs.

It’s a new situation for them both, and they’re struggling.

They argue some more, Merlin shoves Arthur back a few times when he’s unintentionally insensitive. “Balinor wasn’t even necessary for defeating the dragon!” “I can protect myself just fine without you cowering behind trees ten feet away!” “William was a sorcerer!”

At some point, Merlin snaps, shoves Arthur back again though not hard enough to fall, and yells that he has magic. Arthur, feeling betrayed and already frustrated from their fight not working, throws a full force, vicious punch. Merlin palms it, and starts yelling about everything he’s done.

Arthur’s getting angrier, and angrier, and angrier. And he isn’t truly angry, he’s hurt, betrayed, confused, lost, afraid, and a billion and one other emotions all at once. But anger is easier to feel, so he defaults to that.

Arthur stars really fighting Merlin, yelling about the lies and “how could he keep this a secret? Why would he lie for ten years?” Merlin doesn’t even have a chance to reply, too busy dodging or minimising the damage Arthur can do. It’s reversed at this point, and Arthur is the one trained to kill with hand to hand.

Merlin is struggling to keep up.

His nose is definitely broken, he’s covered in bruises, his muscles are burning and he’s more focused on just getting Arthur to calm down.

It doesn’t work, and at some point, Merlin ends up pressed against the wall with Arthur pinning him by the throat. Arthur’s still yelling his questions and accusations about Merlin’s magic. It takes a while, he’s pinned and loosing air for a few minutes.

It never even crosses his mind to use it to get away when Arthur starts pressing too hard against his windpipe and Merlin’s vision starts blurring and fading darker.

Arthur notices this and yells at Merlin to defend himself and fight back, Merlin only rasps out, “won’t hurt you,” before going limp. Arthur steps back, and Merlin crumples to the floor.

It’s at that point that he sees Merlin bleeding from a gaping head wound and notices his knuckles broken from where his rings have shattered them during their fight. He panics and pulls off his shirt to press to the head wound.

Arthur is left trying to stop the bleeding, he scoops Merlin up, calls for guards and grabs the first aid kit Merlin made him keep in his rooms a few months after working for Arthur (after the Sophia incident) the guards come in and he immediately sends them to Gaius, starting to stitch Merlin’s head and doing everything he can.

Merlin’s breath is fading and his heart rate is sluggish at best.

It takes another five minutes for Gaius to get there, by that time it’s too late and Merlin is going to die.

Gaius knows this, and the most he can do is give Merlin pain killers, but even if he survives he won’t wake up and he’ll have a few weeks at most of being comatose because of medieval medicine. (This is not historically accurate, but I can’t be arsed with research)

Arthur can’t accept this. He keeps trying to stop Merlin’s bleeding and covering his head in honey to fight infection and anything else that isn’t doing anything. Gaius tries to pull Arthur away but he refuses, and threatens Gaius with execution if he stops Arthur from saving his Merlin.

In the end, Arthur is working on Merlin’s head for two hours before he stops breathing and his heart gives out fully and half an hour after he’s died. Gaius declares Merlin dead and Arthur can do nothing but scream. It takes four knights to hold him down so they can take Merlin’s body away.

Arthur still doesn’t understand why Merlin wanted to fight him, and it takes him a long time to remember anything Merlin said about magic, or Balinor, or protecting Arthur. By the time he remembers, Gaius has left Camelot in his grief so he has no one to ask for answers.

Arthur goes mad, seeking answers from Druids and other magic users, all the stories about Emrys make him believe people are lying to him because Merlin couldn’t be the most powerful sorcerer and not tell him about it. After Merlin lied for ten years, Arthur closes himself off and doesn’t trust anyone. He’s paranoid and in his Paranoia, he’s killed by Mordred who’s angry that Arthur killed Emrys, the golden age doesn’t happen and magic fades from the land.

The end :)

—

Thoughts?? Hope you enjoyed :)

I tried to keep it as mild as I could, if I wrote this properly it’d most likely end up a lot more graphic and with a lot more character analysis and emotional shit. I don’t know what I’m allowed to post on here but this is about as mild as I can make it without loosing any of the important bits.

I could easily write 20-30k of this but I’m not starting anything new at the moment. I might come back to it at some point to turn it into a full fic but it won’t be for a while yet. I’ll see what the dopamine decides when I have time and energy for another project.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #angst #hurt/no comfort #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merthur #sort of #I never said it was happy merthur #i’m bad at tagging

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sun13koi · 2 months ago

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TW- VENT POST. (CW: language, Possible mentions of divorce and mental health). I’m tagging some of my moots that I trust with this sort of thing, but moots just know you don’t have to read it.

So i knew it was gonna happen. I probably figured it out one/two years ago when my dad had a breakdown on a winter vacation. It’s been and ever since. He lives at a different house. I hardly see him. Both of my parents don’t even come CLOSE to how comforted my online family (all of which I’ve met ever since the summer of this year) makes me. Like… I don’t care about my bio family, really. As long as I have my chosen family, I’m okay. But it’s still devastating to accidentally look at your dad’s phone and see a mile long break up text that he’s been writing in the car KNOWING THAT I ACCIDENTALLY LOOK A LOT. All I could see was ‘I’m done with this’, ‘we’re through’, ‘no more couples therapy, we’re done.’ And ‘continue ignoring me, okay? I don’t need your attention.’ And then I couldn’t read any more. This isn’t the first time. One time I saw him (also on accident) texting his therapist saying ‘I think she’s just stalling, and we both know we’re already over. She’s just staying with me for the kids.’

I can’t do this. I wasn’t exposed to many negitive things as a little kid (not until like 11 but that’s a different trauma story)- no horror movies, no mentions of break ups, etc. so I have no fucking clue what to do. I’m stuck with emotions I had almost forgotten because I had convinced myself not to ever use them, that they were a waste of time and made me weak, but now I can’t stop them. I have nowhere to go since I’m underage, and all of the people I’d stay with live at least 15 minutes BY CAR away from me. There’s a hurricane coming my way too.

I knew today was too perfect. I knew something would ruin it. edit: I’m going to sleep so don’t worry if I don’t respond to you im not dead I’m just sobbing myself to sleep👍

Tags- no pressure, yall just are like the only comfort I can think of rn TvT

@someone-kill-the-ej

@l0gansab1tch (I’m not waiting until you’re online again babe I’m just gonna tag you)

@theduckwhostoleyourbread

@/xxpilz we already talked abt this privately so I don’t wanna tag u again but I’m putting u here so u know I’m not like excluding you

#Vent #vent post #cw divorce

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artiststarme · 2 years ago

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Just A Minor Crisis…

Well, I woke up today and had the genius idea of Steve sharing in my crisis. Bon Appétit! Warning: a brief mental breakdown and some mentions of depression

~*~*~*~

Steve was having a midlife crisis. Honestly, it was a long time coming. Over the past three years or so of dealing with the Upside Down and all of its drama, Steve had only broken down like this one time before. It had been right after the events of Starcourt and losing Hopper. He’s fallen into a weeks-long depression that was only appeased by Robin pulling him out of bed to find a new job where they could work together. There may have been a brief sexuality crisis a few weeks after Spring Break too when Steve had seen Eddie with his hair in a bun but that was neither here nor there.

In the past 24 hours, he’d gotten a tattoo that he was hiding from his friends, quit his job, and made out with a random guy at a gay club in Indy. His life was going off the rails and he didn’t know what to do about that. He needed the money from work to be able to move out of his parent’s oppressive house, probably sooner rather than later. And while the spontaneous tattoo and random making out wasn’t a death sentence, it certainly wouldn’t make things easier on him in the future especially if his parents or friends caught wind of it.

He wanted to ask for help, so someone could assist him in not flying off the edge without a parachute, but he didn’t want the questions that were sure to accompany it. So, he suffered alone for the first week.

He practically dropped off the face of the earth, just wallowing in bed at home with his curtains drawn and doors locked. No one was getting through his defenses, not if he could help it. One thing he neglected to consider though was how savvy his friends were. On day eight of becoming a hermit, Eddie and Robin showed up in his room and yanked the comfy covers off of him.

“C’mon man, get out of bed. What’s going on? We haven’t seen you in like a week,” Eddie said with concern coating his voice.

“Are you okay, Dingus? Keith said you quit over the phone and no one has heard from you since! Do you know how worried we’ve been? We didn’t even think you were in town because your car isn’t in the driveway otherwise we would’ve broken in sooner!” Robin ranted, poking at his shoulder to get his attention.

“How did you get in?” Steve whispered, not having enough energy to speak any louder.

“I picked your lock. It was ridiculously easy by the way, almost concerningly. You might want to get that checked out. Now, why are you avoiding everyone?” Eddie asked him.

Steve didn’t have the energy to argue with them or field their concern so he just groaned and rolled over. Stupidly, he forgot about the new tattoo on his forearm that was exposed when he flipped.

“Dude, did you get new ink? I never thought I’d see the day that Steve Harrington would get a tattoo. What the hell?” Steve heard a smacking noise and a whimper of pain before he felt Robin climb in his bed to curl up with him.

“Steve? Please talk to me. Is this another depressive episode? It’s okay if it is but please don’t shut me out. We’re really worried about you. The tattoo looks great by the way! It looks just like your real bat!”

Steve’s tattoo was an image of his nail-bat on the outside of his right forearm. He’d wanted to get something spontaneous but still meaningful and there was nothing more meaningful than protecting the kids that have looked up to him for years. The pain of getting the tattoo was addicting too, he was already planning more despite the suffocating depression threatening to choke him.

“Yeah?” Steve cleared his throat harshly as he tried to speak after his days-long silence. “You like it?”

Robin nodded exuberantly while Eddie took a seat at the edge of the bed. “It’s totally metal, dude! It makes you look even more handsome, Stevie.”

When his eyes widened, Eddie backtracked. “Not that you weren’t handsome before! You were pretty, still are pretty! I just really like tattoos and it like, it adds to your prettiness! Because you’re pretty!”

Steve watched him flounder until eventually, Eddie cut himself off with an aggrieved hand to his mouth. “Thanks, Eds.”

He gave him a stilted nod before Robin took pity on him and pulled Steve’s attention away from Eddie’s reddening cheeks. “So are you having an episode? We can go downstairs to cuddle and watch movies. Munson and I took time off work for a couple of days to spend time with you.”

Steve felt tears spring to his eyes but nodded nonetheless. “That would be great. I missed you guys and I’m sorry I pulled away, it’s just-”

“No apologies necessary, Stevie. We’re here now and we can help you out. Now c’mon, I want to judge your movie selection,” Eddie said, offering him a hand out of bed.

They would deal with Steve’s coping skills and shaky mental health later. The rest of their night was spent watching crappy movies, eating junk food, and cuddling with each other. If Robin saw Eddie and Steve holding hands, well, that was no one’s business but her own.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium

#Robin absolutely smacked Eddie's arm when she thought he was making fun of his tattoo #physical violence is sometimes the answer #Poor Steve I'm just torturing this guy left and right #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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aelove · 1 year ago

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hold on

PAIRING: best friend heeseung x gn reader SYNOPSIS: Heeseung has always been enchanted by you. Since the day of your first meeting in kindergarten, he knew that you were destined for each other. He's always imagined spending forever with you, even going so far as to apply to each and every college that you did, so that you wouldn't have to leave his side. However, as graduation draws near, fate reveals its own differing plans for the both of you. GENRE: angst, best friends to lovers au, high school au, kind of a star-crossed lovers au, right person wrong time au WARNINGS: unedited, major character death, frequent pov changes, please lmk if you feel that there are any other warnings that should be added WORD COUNT: 3.4K NOTE: this has been in my drafts for so long, so i'm rlly happy to finally publish it !! and thank you to my lovely esther bae @urszn for the beautiful header which was the perfect motivation to finish writing ♡ MASTERLIST | NAVI

Heeseung couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief at the sight of you, an invisible weight falling off his shoulders.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Heeseung said, hoping his voice doesn’t reveal his previous state of panic. Despite his casual comment, he had actually spent the last forty-five minutes frantically searching for you. Your room was the last place he’d expected to find you. Yet there you were, silently sitting on your bed, bundled up in every fluffy blanket you owned, completely unaware of the outside world and the mental breakdown that had just been cut short by your appearance.

It’s otherwise dark except for the messily placed star stickers strewn across your ceiling, illuminating the room in a pale green light. Knowing of your fear of the dark, Heeseung had gifted you the stickers for a past birthday, but you had always refused to use them. worried that they would eventually die out, opting for a regular lamp instead.

"Don’t make me laugh, Hee. I saw the hundred missed calls you left." You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. He was leaning against the door frame in his favorite matching gray hoodie and sweats. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed in worry, but he looked absolutely gorgeous. You had always thought he looked as if he came straight out of a cringey teen romantic series. With his sweet doe eyes and all his other pretty features, it wouldn’t be hard at all to fall for your best friend. He would be one of those sweet best friend types that was always there for the protagonist. They’d be high school sweethearts, joyfully spending the rest of their lives together in each other’s arms. Maybe they’d settle down in the countryside after one too many years spent in the chaos of a big city. They'd eventually have two kids and maybe even a cat or —

"So you were ignoring me, huh?" Heeseung questioned, interrupting you from continuing your delusions. His lips were jutting out in a joking pout, and he was standing with his hands on his hips, giving the impression of an upset little kid. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of the unserious glare he directed towards you. You patted the spot across from you, welcoming him to join you in your latest coping mechanism. At your invitation, he finally entered the room, carefully stepping over the numerous clothes and stuffed animals littering your floor to make his way next to you.

The bed dipped a little, creaking as Heeseung sat on the bed, scooting next to you. You adjusted the pile of blankets so that they enveloped both of you. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you could smell the notes of tangerine and oak from his favorite cologne. You both stayed there for a while, relishing in the presence of the other. You both enjoyed the respite the other provided, neither making a move or attempting to break the silence.

For the past week, both of you had been so busy preparing for the upcoming exam season that your only chance to see each other was in passing while hurriedly rushing through the halls to the next class. You had also started using lunches as a free period to study for your respective classes, so it had certainly been a while since you had last been this close in proximity. Heeseung found himself immediately comforted in your presence. Heeseung looked down at you finally up-close and his heart ached at the sight of the remnants of tears trailing from your puffy eyes. He didn’t know what to say, but his every nerve yearned to know the reason behind your current misery and eradicate its existence.

The dark circles under your eyes had also grown significantly, almost at an exponential rate compared to his memory, and you looked so fatigued that he vaguely remembered hearing one of your shared teachers expressing concern about you to another teacher when passing her classroom on his way to a different class.

Heeseung had known you long enough to recognize that this type of behavior wasn’t uncommon for you. As a professional procrastinator, you were a proud night owl, and both of you often stayed up together. But your appearance made it seem like you had hit a new extreme of sleep deprivation. The fact that you had obviously been crying before he found you just made him feel worse. He didn’t know the reality of whatever you had been dealing with, but he was confident something was wrong. He just wished he could do more to help you, that you would rely on him more, that you would realize he’d always be there for you.

"Why now? I thought you said you were never going to use the stickers," Heeseung asked in a desperate attempt to fill the silence. He had said the first thing that came to mind, but he couldn’t deny his eagerness to hear your answer. With the stars bathing his vision in an unfamiliar green hue, feelings of uncertainty spread through his body. Maybe it was just the fact that college decisions would soon be arriving, but nothing felt right anymore. The only thing he would always have complete confidence in was his relationship with you. You had stuck together through thick and thin, and he had no doubt you would always have his back.

"I thought it might help me come to terms with everything. You know, since we don’t have that much time left together either. It’s kind of healing, being one with the darkness. Besides, shouldn't you be glad I’m finally putting your gift to good use?" You had also come to the realization that the stickers' lifespan had nothing to do with your use of them, but you preferred leaving that out. You would rather not draw attention to a fact that he had no previous idea of, knowing Heeseung would tease you relentlessly about it otherwise. He was very similar to you in that you both often shared equally stupid sentiments. It was one of the reasons you both got along so well.

"What do you mean?" Heeseung's voice was firm, despite being puzzled by your statement. You had spoken of separating as if it was something guaranteed in your future. He was offended that you had even considered parting ways with him, but even more hurt by how sure you were about it. "YN, we’re always going to be together even after graduation. You’ll forever be my number one, and I better be yours."

While you had been more focused on avoiding his teasing, it seemed your previous sentence had taken all his attention. The sudden seriousness of his tone took you aback, making you wonder if you had somehow angered your best friend.

"Hee, you know I don’t mean it like that. I love you so much, but it’s inevitable that we’ll eventually reach a point in time where we can’t be together 24/7." You sat up, adjusting your position so that you were both face to face. He frowned and avoided your eyes. Cradling his face in both your hands, you tilted his head up, but he continued looking away from you. He looked upset, but you knew that you had only spoken the truth.

"Hee?" You smiled at him, hoping to find some sort of confirmation or consolation in his reactions. You didn’t like seeing him unhappy; it didn’t suit him at all.

"Have we already reached that point then? I know you’ve been avoiding me, and it’s not just a phase. We haven't had a single decent conversation with each other in the past month. You can’t even deny it. You’re not answering my calls or texts. You’re not even talking to me anymore." Heeseung tried not to lose his composure, but he was sure that his voice must have betrayed his true feelings because he could feel the tears starting to gather.

Heeseung wished that you would just reach out to him. You were such a precious person to him, and he absolutely adored you. To everyone who had ever known Heeseung, it was obvious just how much he loved you, shown through his actions alone. His every thought revolved around you, and he had no doubt that he would do anything for you.

Heeseung had known you long enough to easily recognize all your emotions. It was almost like he had a spidey-sense solely dedicated to you. Whenever he heard even the slightest hint of sadness in your voice during a call, he was immediately on his way to you with your favorite foods in hand.

Heeseung could spend all the time in the world by your side and never get bored of his best friend. He had pulled more all-nighters than he could count just to keep you company as you hurriedly crammed to finish a project for school. Even if he had already finished the same assignment weeks in advance, he was always there to help you. In fact, it was only after learning of your dangerous tendency to procrastinate that he had taken it upon himself to do the exact opposite.

Everything Heeseung did was with you in mind. In fact, he had been determined to stay by your side even after graduation, so he made sure to apply to all the same colleges as you. He had never considered leaving your side, so it stung hearing you talk as if you had already accepted the idea.

The sight of your best friend with tears brimming in his eyes was too much to handle, and you felt as if you were on the verge of crying as well. You immediately reached out to hug him, hoping to comfort him and bring him back to his usually happy self. Heeseung remained silent even as he hugged you back.

“Hee, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.” You do your best to assure him with your words, but you couldn’t help but feel out of place trying to comfort your best friend. It had always been him in your current position; he had always taken care of you. It made you feel incredibly guilty that your friend had done so much for you that it would never be possible to pay it forward to him in this lifetime.

“You’re right. I was avoiding you and I’m so sorry, Hee. I haven’t been completely open with you either. I know you’re probably also anxious about college and life after graduation so I didn’t want to trouble you.” Hearing your confession, Heeseung stilled. Breaking away from the hug, he wiped his tears and looked directly at you as if telling you to continue on.

“I really didn’t want to tell you about it, but I realize now that it’s probably best that you hear it from me first.” As the first tears started to fall, you dropped your head to rest on his chest. You were full-on sobbing now, afraid of his reaction, but you continued on, finally whispering the truth to the person you had been most determined to hide it from.

Heeseung had always hated goodbyes. As a child, whenever family came to visit, he was always the odd one out at the end of the trip, the only one who had shed no tears. The dramatics associated with partings just didn’t come naturally to him. He didn’t like how everyone else would break down in tears or how the hugs seemed to never end. It all felt awkward to him. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t sad or that he wouldn’t miss spending time with his family; it was just that he had never been the type to openly show his vulnerabilities. It was only in complete solitude in the peace and quiet of his room that Heeseung would allow himself to mourn.

This wasn’t like that though. No, not at all. He had been completely confident that his family would visit him again, but Heeseung wasn’t sure that he would ever see you again. The love of his life was about to disappear out of his life before he could even confess his feelings. It wasn’t even the feeling of a forever unreciprocated love. Heeseung knew that you loved him in the same way that he felt about you. He had originally planned a big confession to take place in the coming weeks as graduation approached, but it seemed as if fate had alternate plans for the both of you.

Heeseung felt like a ship lost at sea, tossed and tormented by relentless waves of grief. The weight of your eventual absence was a heavy burden on his heart, engulfing him in a whirlwind of memories and regrets, unable to escape the torment.

It was with great reluctance that Heeseung forced himself to enter the Hospital. The stark, white walls and dreary interior echoed with the sounds of crying, likely from families experiencing their own goodbyes. It was all so overwhelming and just made him more nauseated at the thought of finding you here. He was right outside your door now, but he found himself still in place, his knees growing weak. As much as he hated the idea of ever having to part ways with you, he knew he would regret not seeing you in your final moments. A violent cough erupted from behind the door, echoing through the hallway, serving as a painful reminder of the finality of your current state. He choked up as his hand reached for the handle; the pounding of his heart growing in frequency upon touching the cold metal.

It took a moment for Heeseung to gain the courage to open the door, but he was absolutely floored at the sight of you when he finally entered. Upon his arrival, your parents stepped out into the hall, deciding to give you both some privacy. It completely broke him to see you look so much more fragile than he remembered you ever being. He approached your bedside with a lump in his throat, struggling to find the words he’d wanted to tell you.

It’s obvious to see from his appearance that your best friend had been taking the news of your sickness very hard. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were swollen but he still looked as beautiful as ever in the dull light of the hospital room.

“I missed you, Hee.” You mustered out a weak smile at your best friend. Despite being bedridden, your smile remained bright, but Heeseung couldn’t help but feel that as if it looked out of place compared to your dull appearance. The eyes that he often found himself lost in were now almost entirely devoid of their previous shine.

“I love you.” Heeseung blurted out, hoping you could hear the sincerity in his voice. He wished he could say more, but he couldn’t speak. The longer he looked at you in your delicate state, the harder it was for him to maintain his composure. He had imagined the two of you spending your lives together, side by side. He had already planned everything out. He knew where he wanted to propose and how he was going to do it. You might not have realized it, but you were the object of all of Heeseung’s affection. The persistence of your image in his mind was the only thing that relentlessly haunted him, and it terrified him just how much he loved you.

“Hee, you know I love you too.” You had spent the entire day saying goodbyes to loved ones, but it was only after seeing Heeseung that you felt completely disheartened. Tears were pooling in the corners of his eyes and with it, your guilt continued to grow.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Hee. You were the best best friend and first love that anyone could have asked for. You’ve always done so much for me. That’s why I need you to promise me something.” You held his hands tightly in yours, wanting to ingrain the feeling in your memory forever.

“I’m wishing you all the best. You’re such a lovely person and I know that anyone would be lucky to be the recipient of your friendship and love. Promise me that you’ll start living for yourself. I’ve held you back for so long and I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize it earlier.” You paused to look at Heeseung for confirmation. He hesitantly nodded his head in agreement.

“Do everything that makes you happy, okay? I might not be able to stay by your side, but I’ll always be there for you. I’ll be your guardian angel, so trust that I’ll be watching over you. You’ve spent your whole life looking after me, so now it's my turn to return the favor.” You smiled up at him, gesturing for him to lean down towards you. Heeseung’s eyes welled up with tears as he obeyed your request. He was determined to stay strong for you even as his cheeks grew wet, biting his lip in an effort to suppress the sobs from spilling out his chest.

“Don’t miss me too much, yeah?” Your voice broke a little seeing your best friend look so defeated. You wiped the tears from his face and pressed a kiss to both of his cheeks, resting your forehead against his.

“Don’t cry. You’re too pretty to be crying over me.” Your comment only made him cry harder, though, and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight.

“I love you so much, Hee.” Heeseung took you by surprise when he cradled your face in his hands. Time seemed to slow down as he pressed the gentlest of kisses to your lips. You wished it could have lasted forever; you wished that you could have spent forever by Heeseung’s side. You were so grateful to have met Heeseung, for him to have been your first and last love.

After your passing, Heeseung often found solace in the stars, the same stars that had once adorned your ceiling. He would gaze up at the vast night sky, eagerly searching for your light among the countless others, hoping to feel your presence and know that you were watching over him.

While he had long been stressed about what to expect from life after graduation, Heeseung knew that nothing could possibly go wrong, not with you watching over him. Just as you had expected of him, it didn’t take long for Heeseung to get acclimated to college life. He had already befriended quite a few people in the same major as him. They all shared similar personalities, and he knew that he would quickly grow close to them. He lucked out with his courses, somehow managing to get his ideal schedule. With everything just as perfect as he had always dreamed, he knew he had nothing to worry about.

While the ache of your absence never ceased to disappear, Heeseung didn’t want to erase you from his life or pretend as if you had never existed. He was adamant about never forgetting you. He continued to keep you in his memory, proudly referring to you as his "best friend" and "soulmate." He wrote heartfelt letters to you, pouring out his every thought and emotion onto the page, imagining that you were still there to read them. He still had your number saved in his phone, often calling it just to hear your voice on your voicemail. Whenever he came home for a break, he visited your parents without fail, who continued to treat him as their own son. He made sure to stop by each and every one of the beloved hangouts you had once frequented together, where your laughter and smiles had once, allowing himself to be reminisce in the cherished memories you had shared.

Heeseung carried you with him always as he continued to live his life just as you had wished for him to do. And just as promised to you, he lived each and every day to the fullest. The pain of your loss never quite left him, but Heeseung's heart swelled with gratitude for the time he spent with you, for the memories you shared together. Heeseung would be forever grateful for the serendipitous intertwining of his life with yours, a testament to the power of fate. You might not be his last, but you would always be his first love, remaining foremost in his mind and heart, etched and woven into the tapestry of his life.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING !! and a million thanks to my lovely moots @kimsohn @chiyuv & @luvhyun3 for helping me with proofreading ILYSM 💗

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