#my brain is fried this turned into such a long chapter

[flywolfwriting]

TMITDE Ch 16

Lucifer still sat in the chair previously occupied by his daughter, head in his hands, when Alastor left to go find her. Lucifer had offered, but both Hartfelts insisted it would be best for her adoptive father to bring her home. Lucifer knew Alastor was hurt by her words no matter how well he hid it, but he trusted the man - despite learning such a terrible thing about him.

Rosie began clearing their plates, half-eaten dinner already growing cold. Lucifer looked up. “Oh, let me help with that,” he said, jumping up, only to be stopped in his tracks by a firm look.

“Now what kind of host would I be if I allowed you to work? You sit right there and relax.”

Her tone was so firm Lucifer hastily obeyed without even a token argument.

“What would you like to drink?”

Lucifer blinked at her. “Oh um,” he paused. He'd been about to say ‘water,’ but given the night's events, and that it wasn't likely to get any better, he said, “I'm sure Alastor has some of that good Rye somewhere; I'll have a couple fingers of that, if it's no trouble?”

Rosie’s eyes glittered and for some reason Lucifer felt he'd said something wrong. “No trouble at all, darlin’!” She said cheerfully, quickly pouring him a drink and placing it before him. “You two been friends long?”

“Erm, I don't know the correct answer to that,” he said. “I don't want to end up dead.”

She laughed. “Oh I won't kill you, silly! The correct answer is the truth.”

He eyed her. “No offense, ma'am, it's not you I'm worried about.”

Rosie paused her washing and turned to look at him, her sharp smile sending a chill down Lucifer’s spine. “You should be,” she said sweetly, and it was eerie how much she sounded like Alastor had earlier that night. “Alastor is not the only killer in this house, and I specialize.”

Two. There's two serial killers in New Orleans, and nobody knew. Lucifer swallowed hard. Took a drink. Drummed his fingers on the table. And I'm sitting in their fucking house. Willingly.

“If I wanted to leave, would you let me?” Lucifer asked.

Rosie's smile returned to a more genuine look. “Oh of course I would, sweetie. Alastor says you don't belong on the List, and he does his research. Besides, if he planned on killin’ ya he would have done so by now.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Lucifer asked wearily. “Surely it would be better for me to know as little as possible.”

“I suppose.” Rosie turned back to the sink. “I don't think you're going to turn us in.”

Lucifer sighed. She was right. He should. The police would believe him, and he'd get his daughter back - and in the process he'd probably lose her. Even if she escaped the law itself he didn't think she would forgive him for sending the people who raised her to what was sure to be a death sentence.

They were quiet for a while, Lucifer sipping his Rye while Rosie finished the dishes and settled across the table with her knitting.

“Soooo,” Lucifer said, deciding to ask about something that has been nagging at him. “Al said your marriage was one of convenience.”

She smiled up at him. “It is!”

“You don't… love each other?”

“Of course we do!” Rosie said without hesitation. “In our own way. Alastor is my best friend. The only constant in my life - until Charlie came along - and I would be absolutely devastated if something were to happen to him. We may not love each other romantically, but we will do anything to protect our family.” She looked up at him, serious as the grave. “Anything. Even if it means breaking our rules.”

Lucifer took a deep drink to hide his nervous swallow. “Rules?”

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[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

14: A WILSON WELCOME

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Summary: You and Bucky arrive in Louisiana for a weekend of pretend coupledom, but tensions run high as nerves, old friendships, and unexpected emotions come into play. A seemingly innocent bouquet of flowers stirs something in you, and an unexpected conversation with Sarah Wilson leaves you questioning just how much you really know about the man you’re pretending to be with.

Warnings: Mutual pining & emotional turmoil, fake dating, one bed situation, brief angst, but also fluff, Bucky being bad at feelings (but trying!), found family vibes

Word Count: 2819

The drive from the airport to Delacroix had been quiet at first, the atmosphere in the car was one of anxiety and anticipation. The view outside the car was incredible and, it being your first time in Louisiana, you made sure to take everything in. You glanced over at Bucky, his grip on the steering wheel just a little tight as he navigated the unfamiliar roads. He had been rather surly during the flight.

“You okay?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you briefly. “Yeah. You?”

You nodded, avoiding mentioning how your stomach was doing back flips and your nerve endings were fried from the number of signals that were being sent to your brain telling you to go home. Seeing Sam and Torres again after the fiasco at Bucky’s birthday, meeting Sam’s sister, pretending to be Bucky’s girlfriend for a whole long weekend— it was a lot for you.

“You think Alpine will be alright on her own?” you mused, looking for something to fill the awkward silence and to stop you thinking about the show you and Bucky would shortly have to put on for everyone.

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a little, having something else to focus on. “She’ll be fine. She’s got her own life; I think I just live in it. Plus, I left her enough food for three cats. She’ll probably actually enjoy having the place all to herself.”

An image of Alpine sprawled across the couch entered your mind, living life like the queen she was born to be. “She’s probably celebrating our absence and our ridiculous antics. Bringing her friends over and showing off her life of luxury!” you smiled.

He smirked. “Probably plotting my downfall. That cat’s smarter than she looks.”

You both laughed, easing the tension you’d both been feeling. The car slowed as Bucky pressed the brakes and pulled into a gas station. “I’m gonna fill up,” he said, pulling into a spot near the pumps.

It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out and stretch your legs as he moved around to refuel. You walked to the edge of the station where there was a florist with a little stand. The warm breeze carried the scent of the flowers over to you and you took a minute to enjoy the sunshine and open air. You ventured a little further afield, taking in your new surroundings and admiring the way the horizon stretched out in front of you.

When you turned back towards the car, you spotted Bucky handing over cash to the florist, in exchange for a beautiful bouquet of flowers, vibrant yellows and pastel pinks wrapped in delicate paper. You froze, watching as he glanced around, as if worried someone might catch him, before tucking the bouquet quickly into the trunk.

A surge of excitement filled your chest. Flowers? Were they for you? A smile crept across your face. When you got back to the car, you tried to act nonchalant, failing miserably to hide your grin. Was this Bucky’s way of trying to apologize for his grumpiness? A kind gesture for joining him for the weekend?

Whatever his reasons might be, you felt a warmth spreading through you and for the first time since you’d left home, you thought that there might be hope for the weekend, after all. Instead of sulking and losing yourself to your own anxieties, you spent the rest of the drive trying to draw Bucky out of his own head by asking him everything from his favorite snacks to the music he used to listen to. His responses were curt at first, but eventually, he softened, rolling his eyes at your music choices and reminiscing about old songs from a jukebox he once loved, his tone lighter than you had heard it for a while.

The two of you laughed together as though you were old friends.  The tension began to creep back in as the scenery shifted, signalling your arrival in Delacroix. Sam’s text came through confirming the address of the hotel he had booked for the two of you and you directed Bucky through the smaller road.

“Looks like we’re in the right place,” you said as Bucky pulled into an official looking parking lot.

“How’d you know?”

“The Falcon on the porch is a dead giveaway,” you answered in a deadpan voice.

Bucky sighed, catching sight of Sam reclined on the porch swing as it swayed gently in the breeze. There was a baseball cap over his eyes and a blade of grass in his mouth. As you stepped out of the car, the humid Louisiana air wafted around you while the symphony of cicadas surrounded you. Sam jumped down the stairs to meet you.

“‘Bout time y’all made it,” he called, striding over to clap Bucky on the shoulder. “Thought you got lost.”

“GPS works just fine,” Bucky grumbled playfully.

Sam turned to you next, welcoming you with a hug. “You holding up okay with this guy?” he asked, nodding his head at a surly looking Bucky

You laughed. “He won’t admit it, but he is pretty excited to be here. So am I.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing your bags before you could protest. “Let me show you where you’re staying.”

You and Bucky followed Sam into the quaint hotel, weaving through the lobby and up a narrow flight of stairs. People called out to Sam in greeting but he waved them off, treating you like the guest of honor. The hotel was old but had a Louisiana charm, with faded floral wallpaper lining its walls and the faint smell of lavender lingered in the hallway.

“Ta-da!” Sam announced with theatrical flair as he threw open the door to your room. He set your bag down inside and stepped back to grin at the two of you like he had just unveiled a gallery masterpiece 

You stepped inside and took a look around the room. It had character— slightly faded floral curtains, a small vintage couch and a vanity which displayed a basket of dried flowers which would have been charming, if not for the room’s centerpiece— the bed.

Your gaze settled on it with a look of horror. In the middle of the room was an impossibly narrow double bed. It barely looked large enough for Bucky to sleep comfortably on his own, let alone squeeze you in. You glanced at Bucky, whose expression mirrored your thoughts exactly— disbelief and dread.

“Make yourselves at home,” Sam said cheerfully, clapping Bucky on the shoulder and adding with a wink when he was out of your eye line. “I’ll catch up with you two later, alright? Gotta get back to Sarah before she sends out a search party.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky grumbled.

Sam was already halfway down the hall, leaving you and Bucky standing awkwardly in the room. The large room with the impossibly small bed.

“Well,” you said after a prolonged awkward silence, “this should be interesting.”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You aren’t built for the couch!”

“Yeah, well, that’s—” Bucky gestured at the bed, “not built for this, either.” He gave you a look that was equal parts sarcasm and despair.

The tension you’d been feeling was eased by Bucky’s fatalism and despite yourself, a small laugh escaped your lips. “Chill, Barnes. I’m sure we’ll figure this out.”

He gave you a side glance and a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Not so sure I trust your definition of ‘figure it out.’”

“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad, am I?”

Bucky’s face softened and he murmured. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

The awkward bed discussion was put aside while you unpacked and freshened up in your shared hotel room. Sam had insisted that the two of you come to his home so you could meet his family, so once you were ready, the two of you made your way to the Wilson residence.

The heat outside hit you as soon as you stepped outside the building, the earthy smell of the water on the bayou permeated your nostrils. The house was already decorated for the festivities and the lights outside twinkled in the fading sunlight.

Sam flung open the door to greet you. “Look who decided to show up!” he teased.

The Wilson home exuded warmth and hospitality and they welcomed you with open arms. Almost immediately, Sam’s nephews bolted toward Bucky, grabbing at his arm and begging him to play with them.

“Be right there boys,” he said with a soft smile that made your heart melt.

You could hear laughter and a clatter of dishes from the kitchen where Sarah and another man, presumably her fiancé, were busy preparing dinner..

“Sarah! Dante!” Sam called out. “Get in here; the Yankees finally made it!”

Sarah appeared first, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face lit up when she saw you and Bucky. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the city folk,” she teased, striding over to Bucky and pulling him into a warm hug. He hugged her back without hesitation, his face relaxing into something softer than you were used to seeing.

Dante followed close behind, a warm smile on his face. “You must be Bucky and…” he trailed off, looking at you.

You held out your hand, meeting his with a firm shake and an introduction. “It’s nice to meet you both. Congratulations on the upcoming wedding, it’s so nice of you to have me.”

You were busy greeting everyone when you noticed Bucky shift beside you. Then, to your surprise, he pulled out the bouquet of flowers from behind his back. The same arrangement of pinks and yellows that you’d seen him tucking into the trunk earlier today.

“These are for you,” he said, handing them to Sarah with a sheepish grin. “From… us. You know, congratulations on the big day.”

His words barely registered as you stared at the flowers. Your flowers. Only they weren’t for you. Your mind felt fuzzy with disappointment. The chaos of the bed fiasco at the hotel had all but driven the floral arrangement from your mind. How could you have thought he had bought them for you?

Sarah’s delighted smile and thanks snapped you back to the present moment. “Oh, these are beautiful! Thank you so much, both of you,” she said, squeezing your hand for a second.

Dante chuckled, taking Sarah’s free hand. “You didn’t have to do that, but we appreciate it.”

Your mouth formed a practiced smile, one you hope would hide the sting in your chest. You nodded along politely, letting their thanks wash over you, but inside, the ache refused to fade.

Meanwhile, Bucky had moved on, falling into an easy conversation with Sam and Dante. Cass and AJ bounced on the sidelines, eagerly waiting for Bucky’s attention. As you glanced at him, he seemed oblivious to your plight. Why did it even matter so much?

There was a moment where you were lost in your thoughts, brought back to the present when Sarah hooked her arm through yours. She led you into the kitchen with a warm but curious smile. “Come on, let the boys catch up. I think you and I need to have a little chat.”

You followed her into the epicentre of the Wilson home, a cozy kitchen which was now filled with the aroma of spices and home cooking. The counter was covered with bowls of chopped vegetables, discarded measuring cups and a pitcher of iced tea.

“Make yourself useful,” Sarah teased, throwing you a towel to dry a stack of dishes while she picked up a knife and started slicing lemons for the tea.

“Wow, this is quite the set up you’ve got here,” you said, picking up a dish from the drying rack and getting to work. “Impressive!”

“Well, someone has to do the hard work to keep things running smoothly,” she smirked, glancing over at you. She stopped slicing the lemons to give you a once-over. “So… you and Bucky, huh?”

The air suddenly grew noticeably thicker. Here we go, you thought. You kept your focus on the plate you were drying, wiping it repeatedly even though the china was now bone dry.

“Yeah.” You gave Sarah a tight smile, hoping she wouldn’t press the subject of your relationship.

She raised an eyebrow, humming softly as though she wasn’t done. She wasn’t. “You know, I’m impressed, I honestly never saw this coming. Bucky’s not exactly the… sharing type.”

“Sharing?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

“You know, about his life. Letting someone in. It’s not exactly his strong suit.” Sarah tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, studying you carefully. “How much do you actually know about him?”

“I…” you paused, trying to find the right answer. “I know he’s been through a lot.”

Sarah laughed softly, as though she saw through your vagueness. “Bucky’s been through more than ‘a lot’. He’s lost people, his home, his past. And some days, I think he’s still trying to figure out where he fits in our world.”

The weight of Sarah’s words settled over you like a dense fog and for a moment you felt like you couldn’t breathe. How dare she suggest that she knew Bucky better than you did— oh, right. He wasn’t really your boyfriend.

Desperately you tried to hide the mix of emotions swirling around inside you: guilt— because Sarah’s questions reminded you how little you truly knew about the man you were pretending to be in a relationship with, and defensive— because her comments made you feel exposed, as if the cracks in your charade were already on show to those around you.

“He doesn’t really like to talk about it,” you admitted, the quietness in your voice sounding like a confession of your guilt. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt ashamed of yourself. 

Why hadn’t you asked him for more? Should you have pushed him to open up? What right did you even have to pry into his life?

You dropped your gaze to the plate in your hand, using the dish towel to trace the pattern around its rim. “I mean, he’s mentioned a few things…” The words tumbled out without you thinking. “But I don’t know if he—”

You stopped as the words practically constricted in your throat. I don’t know if he trusts me enough to tell me. The thought made your stomach drop— not because you blamed him for this, but because it was the painful truth. There had been moments of vulnerability he had shared with you— letting you bond with Alpine, the soft melancholy that had washed over him when he talked about Steve, the rare moments where he let his guard down and you had felt closer to him than anyone else you’d known. Those were the fleeting glimpses into the real Bucky that you treasured.

But you knew there was more… more to Bucky than he had shared. Had you even scratched the surface? Under his sarcastic brooding exterior, how many layers of guilt, grief and resilience were hidden away?

And why you? Why had he chosen you to play this role, when he could have found someone who he wanted to be himself with, someone who would meet Sarah’s expectations, someone who cared for him in the way he deserved? 

But maybe that was the problem. The vulnerability of a real relationship. Maybe this game of pretend you both shared was safer than the risk that came with baring your soul and the hurt that almost inevitably came with it. But what if maybe— just maybe— Bucky had agreed to this because he didn’t expect anyone to show up for him. 

The thought made your heart ache.

“That sounds like our Bucky. He’s not big on opening up. But he’s a good man. Just…” She hesitated, as if she was choosing her next words very carefully. “If you’re going to be in his life… please, be patient with him. He needs someone who understands the weight he carries.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, softly.

Sarah’s scrutinizing gaze softened, as if sensing your doubt, and she smiled at you with the same warmth that Sam showed you. “I’m just saying this because I care about him. He’s like family. And if he’s bringing you here, that means something.”

You nodded, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions she had stirred up inside you. The tension was broken by Cass who ran into the kitchen demanding snacks. Sarah tossed a few carrot sticks to the disappointed looking boy and went back to her cooking. “Well I think that’s enough of an interrogation for one day. We have a whole weekend full of chaos and festivities to get to know each other!”

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[emotionoitme]

i didn’t know

i didn't know - skinshape

final part of don’t call my name

warnings: some fighting at the beginning, but it’s mostly just one big love and fuckfest, mommy issues, slight mention of disordered eating, carmy is a PERV!! unprotected sex throughout but what else did you expect, shower sex (water off for SAFETY), teasing, play fighting (like shoving), brat/brat tamer themes, f receiving oral, fingering, major voyeurism (while otp with richie because i have a crush on him), spanking (and mention of skin being red), slight dacryphilia, sexy pictures, face fucking (m receiving oral), he spits in her mouth, kind of rough handling (thank u dom carmy), but it’s sweet and sappy too, breeding kink oop, bittersweet ending, pls let me know if i missed any warnings my brain is fried from looking at this for so long.

wc: 21k - but tumblr has a 1k "block limit" so this chapter is broken into two posts

a/n: sorry that took me so long i took a grippy sock vacation lol. wow i am so excited for all of you to read this. and the only way i can apologize is with 21k words of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written. LET THERE BE LIGHT!!! (part two of this chapter will be linked at the bottom! no more waiting i promise!!)

playlist

knock knock 

he calls her name. 

she rolls her eyes, brushing out the tangles in her hair. “i need to talk to you.” his voice comes sternly.

she cracks the door, continuing to detangle. the plan was to ignore him, yet she can’t help but seethe at the fact that she had to deal with claire again.

“go talk to your girlfriend” her retort comes sharply.

“can you not start this shit?” his face scrunches.

“i’m not starting anything,” she defends, “you’re the one who keeps inviting that girl over here.” 

“she forgot her scarf,” he states, “she just came to pick it up. that’s it.”

the girl scoffs. 

“i’m sure she wanted a lot more than her scarf from you, carm.” 

“you-,” he rubs his forehead, sighing, “i told her that we’re together, okay?” his eyebrow twitches from the argument.

“you only told her that because she saw me in your shirt,” the girl argues stubbornly, “if i didn’t walk behind you, you wouldn’t have said anything.” she turns the shower on.

“yes i would have,” he contests, “and even if she didn’t see you, i’ve got these fuckin’ things all over my neck,” pointing to the dark purple hickeys that lay on his skin, “thanks for those, by the way. gotta go into work tomorrow like this.” 

she bites her lip to hide a smirk. 

he catches it and raises his eyebrows in response. 

“payback.”

“what?” he stutters, shaking his head. 

“those are nothing compared to what you gave me.”  

he scoffs and crosses his arms. tries to push away how roused he becomes when they bicker like this. 

“i didn’t hear any complaints while i was giving you them,” he counters. 

she rolls her eyes.

“can you get out? i need to shower.” 

“m’not done talking to you,” his eyes lock on her face. 

she puts her hand on her hip and scoffs, staring at him for a moment, studying his features. cursing how her body tingled from the argument. deliberating. 

“fine,” she concedes, threading her fingers under the hem of the borrowed shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her nudity. if he won’t leave, she’ll just shower anyways. 

carmen fights a groan at the sight, instead forcefully exhaling through his nose. 

she was right, the marks on his neck were nothing compared to the bruises littering her skin, trailing from her neck all the way down to her chest, ranging from red to purple to brown.

the girl turns to open the glass door of the shower, stepping in, watching as the man shamelessly admires her figure. she goes about her business as if he’s not there, submerging her head under the stream of water, carding her fingers through her hair to scrub her scalp. 

he’s not done talking to her, yet he can’t seem to remember what he even wanted to say, transfixed by her nude, wet body just feet away. she begins to hum a tune and lather up her hair with shampoo. 

carmen approaches the glass. 

“hey,” he tries with a knock, eyebrow twitching. something else twitching, too. 

she glances at him, suds dripping down the side of her face, sliding down her breasts. she smirks knowingly at the sight of his flustered face, pushing her chest out slightly before drenching her face underneath the water again. 

he knocks on the glass door again, jaw tightly clenched. she rubs the water out of her eye and turns to him, cracking the door of the shower open. 

“hm?” she questions, gazing up at him. 

“we gonna finish talking?” he asks. he looks angry, but she knows better. the way his chest puffs out. the way his jaw clenches in that certain way. he looks hungry, and she’s tempted to keep pushing.

“i can’t. i’m in the shower,” she bites down on her lip to refrain from smirking. 

“why-” a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “why you being such a brat today, huh?” he strains, giving great effort to keep his gaze from trailing down. 

“because i want you to myself,” she bites, “i’m tired of sharing with claire.”

“will you knock that shit off? y’not sharing me with anyone.” 

“uh, i beg to differ,” her eyebrows scrunch, “you’ve been fucking around with her since i moved in.” 

“fucking around?” he scoffs, “she was getting her scarf.”

“there was the other time, too, carm,” she reminds him. 

“that’s because-” he lets out a sigh of exasperation, hand carding through his hair. “listen. she’s the last person i wanna be with. we just…weren't good together.”

“why not?” she presses 

“there just wasn’t…i dunno, sparks? it was like dating a friend.” 

“okay.” she’s still mad, but she likes the words that come from his mouth. because if she has one thing with carmen, it’s definitely sparks. 

“yeah?” he tries, leaning to see her face, “you know i’m yours, right?” 

“yeah. whatever.” she doesn’t want to concede, too fired up about claire coming back over. “you should’ve told me.”

“i knew it’d make you mad,” he defends. 

“not as mad as it makes me thinking that you invited her,” she scoffs, “fucking hate seeing that girl bat her eyelashes at you.” she lathers shampoo between her hands and begins to wash her hair. 

“yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, “feeling jealous?” 

“shut up.” she can sense the stupid smirk on his face. 

carmy’s concentration breaks, and his gaze flits down to her sudsy chest. fuck. he clears his throat before speaking. 

“didn’t know girls like you could get jealous.”

“girls like m-what? what is that supposed to mean?” she cracks an eye open. 

“means you’re too fuckin’ pretty to worry about that shit. so just lose the attitude.”

his answer catches her off guard. the pulsing between her legs catches her off guard too. so she just turns away from him, scrubbing her scalp with her soapy fingers and shutting her eyes tightly. 

he chides her name and pushes the glass door open further. 

she ignores him, soaking her hair under the stream of water, muffling his voice. her eyebrow twitches. 

carmy steps partially in and turns off the water, getting his shirt wet in the process. the girl’s eyes shoot open and she whips around to face him.

“what the fuck, carmy?!” 

“i need you to fuckin’ hear me.” his comes louder than he anticipated. “i don’t. want. claire.” 

she doesn’t even care anymore. his lips look so inviting, she thinks. his white shirt clings to his chest in the spot that got wet. 

she just looks at him for a moment. studies his frenetic expression. looks at his lips again. 

“are you gonna keep fucking fighting with me or are you gonna take that wet shirt off?” 

it takes him a half second of firm deliberation before he’s yanking his shirt over his head and pushing his sweatpants off. she grins as he roughly grabs her face and slams his lips against hers. 

he kisses her with a hungry frenzy, like he has something to prove.  

and they apologize to each other with their bodies yet again, as carmen lifts her against the cold tile and fucks her, coaxing and kissing and thrusting an orgasm out of her. 

he fucks her until it feels like all the hurting is gone. until she gets lovey and desperate for him. until he gets so worked up he groans promises about finding her in california and giving her a ring. 

by the time they finish, the water is cold and the girl begins to shiver. so the two quickly finish washing up and carmy wraps her in a towel. 

he retrieves one of his sweatshirts for her to wear, smoothing his hands over her arms to help warm her up. 

without many words exchanged, they decide to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together. she lays her head on his lap and he cards his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. exchanging tenderness to help mend the argument. forgetting feelings of jealousy and shortcoming and guilt. 

they cozy up in carmen’s bed that night, taking a moment before falling asleep to just lay staring at each other. joking softly, touching each other sweetly.

he asks her about california, and watches with fascination as she lights up telling him about the beach she grew up next to. tells him about how when things would get bad at home she would sneak out her window and spend hours swimming in the salty water. letting the waves lap at her skin. letting the sun kiss her better. how it seems so dangerous looking back at it, but as kid nothing ever seemed that dangerous. it felt like nothing could hurt you. 

carmy enthusiastically agrees with her. follows her memory with his own anecdote of when donna took him, mikey, and nat to lake michigan and little carmy got separated from everyone. how he would have otherwise panicked and ran around and made the situation worse, but it was such a beautiful evening. so he decided to just sit on a rock and watch the waves roll in. 

a big smile grows on the girl's face as he recounts the moment when his mom found him. how she threw her arms around him and cried. how he was too young to understand why she was so scared when it was such a lovely evening. 

she wraps her arms around his shoulders and their chests press flush together. she kisses his neck, and they stay quiet for a moment. 

“i wish i didn’t have to go back,” she whispers her admission.

“me too.” he keeps playing with her hair.

it’s quiet for a moment. there’s a heaviness that fills the room. 

“how long you gonna have to end up staying?” carmy asks softly, leaning away from her to study her eyes. her face. trying to memorize every detail. he doesn’t miss the way her expression falters at his question. 

the girl doesn’t answer, and her eyes become glossy. 

“shit,” he breathes. her eyes dart to his. “you’re not coming back, are you?” 

“my whole family is there,” she whispers, “my friends. there’s nothing for me here.” 

“really?” he scoffs, “nothing at all?” 

“don’t start, carm.”

“y’know i fuckin’ love you,” he harshly whispers. she flinches slightly at the word. it feels so much heavier without the haze of lust. 

“all we ever do is fuck and fight.” 

“that’s not true,” he argues. 

“it is.” 

the man lets out a sigh of frustration, studying her eyes. her face. her lips. 

“it just…it feels right with you,” his tone softens. 

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, and fantasizes about leaving everything behind and building something in chicago, no matter how much she had grown to hate the weather. she fantasizes about the man in front of her. how she wants to build a life with him. how makes her feel like no other man ever has.

it’s hard to verbalize as her mind racks back and forth, so instead she just leans forward and kisses him softly, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

carmy reciprocates hesitantly, mind racing with the things he wants to tell her. how he doesn’t care about the distance. how he’ll call her every night. how he’ll keep her room vacant incase she wants to come back. he softly groans into the kiss when she slips her tongue into his mouth, feeling her press her chest flush against his. it feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong to keep pushing the hard conversations away with more sex. 

the girl finds his hand and softly guides it under the hem of her shirt. carmen lets her, fingertips finding the softness of her skin. but when she tries to pull his hand up to her breast, he stops the attempt, fingers firmly pressing against her ribs. 

the girl whines against his lips, moving closer. 

carmy indulges in the taste of her for only a moment more before pulling back and saying her name. she ignores him, chasing his lips, hand moving to grasp his strong bicep. 

“hey,” he turns his head and her kisses land messily along his jaw, “c’mon.” 

she ignores him, knowing he’ll want to keep talking about california, pressing herself closer, wanting to indulge in the feeling of him without thinking about the end. 

he calls her name again, voice coming out strained. she can feel his erection pressing against her, and keeps peppering kisses along his jaw and face. 

“just make me feel good,” she begs against his skin, “please.”

carmen feels himself throb against her, wanting nothing more than to give in. knowing it won’t fix anything. knowing it’ll only complicate things more. 

“thought you said all we do is fuck and fight?” his fingers grip into her, jaw tightening, feeling his resolve begin to crumble beneath her lips. 

“mhm,” she breathes into his skin, “so fuck me again,” trailing her hand down his bare abdomen.

he grips her wrist before she can move any further down. her eyes come up to meet his, taking in the stern look on his face. 

“i know you wanna,” she breathes, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips, “can feel you throbbing against me.” 

carmen harshly exhales, trying to keep his mind focused. she’s completely right, he thinks, he’s stiff as wood. but he has to stay strong, prove to himself he has control around her.  

“stop fucking around. i wanna talk to you.” his voice comes more sharply than he means. 

the girl stiffens at his tone, pulling away to sit up and retreat. he doesn’t release her wrist. 

“let me go,” she tells him. 

“no. we’re gonna fuckin’ finish this,” his eyebrows furrow, “i didn’t even know you weren’t coming back until now.”

“i don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” her throat feels tight. 

“no? just want me to make you feel better? that all this is to you?” he can’t help the harshness of his tone. 

“carm, i-”

“y’know i’ve never fuckin’ felt this way about anyone? never said ‘i love you’ to anyone but you?” his nose scrunches, eyes appearing glossy. 

“we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.” her tone comes hushed as her chest painfully tightens. 

“yeah, well, i know you enough to know that this is real. that i don’t even-” a sigh, “ i don’t want anybody else but you.” 

“everything you’re saying is just gonna make it harder when i leave.” her voice breaks. 

his furrowed brows soften at the sound, releasing her wrist. she says seated on the bed, trying to take deep breaths and stave off the hot tears that threaten to form. 

“fuck, i-” he pauses, harshly rubs his hand over his face, taking a moment before meeting her eyes again and saying her name. “i like you. a lot.” 

“i know. i like you too, carm.” she rubs the tears away harshly.

“so why can’t we just…enjoy it? while you’re still here? go all out on this?” 

she stares at him blankly for a second as a cue to elaborate. 

the man exhales and shakes his head, trying to piece together what to say. he can’t seem to find the words. she thankfully cuts in. 

“go all out on this?” she asks.

he nods. 

“like, you wanna be my fuckin’…. boyfriend?” 

carmen can’t help the small smile that flashes across his face at the title. he tries to turn his head to hide it but she catches it, playfully shoving his arm. his smile turns to a chuckle. 

“shut up,” she grins, wiping the last stray tear away, “you so wanna be my boyfriend.”

he bring his arms to rest behind his head, staring up at the girl with a lazy smile. he studies her smile. her pretty face. they way in which she’s leaned in closer. 

“fuck yeah, i do. you kidding me?” 

her eyebrows raise at how assertively he says it. her head falls back, and she begins to laugh. partially out of joy and partially out of disbelief. the sound is hearty and sweet, and carmy finds himself wishing he’d make her laugh more. 

the girl leans over him, smile still gracing her face, and she plants a tender kiss against his lips. 

carmen gazes dreamily at her as she sits back up and tucks her hair behind her ears. her face is flushed, and she’s wearing an expression he can’t quite read. they keep staring at each other silently. 

“this is gonna be a bad idea, huh?” she asks after a moment. 

“why?” 

“why wouldn’t it be?” her eyes take in his handsome face. she thinks about how hard it’s gonna be to leave. 

“well…i like you,” he clears his throat, “a lot. actually i’m kind of fuckin’ crazy about you.” 

her gaze softens at this. he continues. 

“and i’m very attracted to you. and we, uh… we have great sex…”

“yeah, we do,” she concedes, “these are all good points.”

“so then, you’re my girlfriend.” 

“carmy…” she sighs, pausing. thinking of what to say. “i don’t like it here. i’ve felt homesick for the past year. i’m really not coming back.” her voice is quiet.

“yeah.” he nods, clearing his throat, “i know you’re not.” he knows, but it’s still hard to be reminded of. 

“so, you’re gonna be okay with that?” 

“i mean…i’m not okay with it, but i’ll deal with it if it means we get to spend these next few weeks together.”

she thinks for a moment, studying his genuine expression.

“okay…but if we do this, we have to promise each other that we’re not gonna get too attached. i really don’t want this to be messy. i like you too much.”

“it won’t be,” he assures, although it feels more like a prayer than a fact. 

“okay,” she whispers, “then you’re my boyfriend i guess.”

his eyes light up a bit at this, and a boyish grin breaks his face.  

“nice.” 

“you’re stupid.” she laughs at his response, lightly shoving his chest again. 

he reaches up and shoves her shoulder back playfully. 

“you are.” 

she scoffs and goes to shove him again, harder this time. he catches her wrist and pulls her forward so she can’t. the girl lets out a yelp of surprise, splaying out over him, face inches from his. 

the simple display of dominance makes her feel dizzy, placing her free hand on his firm chest to center herself. 

“why you like fighting so much, hm?” he asks, his breath ghosting over her lips, “you’re always testing.” 

she tries to pull her wrist away, but his grip is firm. 

“cause you’re…sexy when you’re mad,” she admits, eyes drooping to his lips. 

“i’m sexy when i’m mad?” he has a slight mocking tone. 

“mhm.” she can’t keep her eyes off his lips. “if i worked at your restaurant, i’d probably mess shit up on purpose just so you’d yell at me.”

“jesus,” he lets out a laugh, rubbing his free hand over his face, “what, you like when i get a little rough you?”

“n-no,” she blurts out. the way she averts her eyes immediately reveals her lie.

“yeah, i think you do,” he grins. 

she goes to defend herself again, but shuts her mouth when she can’t think of anything to say. it is kind of true, anyways.

“shut up,” she pushes his face away from her gently, “or else i’ll break up with you.”

this makes him fully laugh. it’s a really nice sound. she watches the way his face crinkles with the big smile. when his laugh fades, he reaches for her chin and pulls her into a gentle kiss. she sighs into the feeling, settling her body closer to his. 

“m’tired,” she mutters into his lips, “you exhaust me.”

carmy rolls his eyes at this. “c’mere.” he says, pulling the sheets back for her. 

the girl slips in next to him and presses her back against his chest, resting her head on his bicep. 

carmy reaches behind him to turn off the lamp, then wraps his arm securely around her. he plants a kiss on her neck and nuzzles his nose into her hair. 

boyfriend. 

he could get used to the title. 

-

carmen gets home late from work on a cold night, late into november, crashing down onto the couch and basking in the silence of the apartment. 

it was a long day in the kitchen, followed by meeting with a contracting crew to update some structural components after hours. 

he had finally taken off after being there for almost 12 hours straight, begrudgingly leaving the renovations to be overseen by richie after having snapped at the crew for the third time. 

he hears soft footsteps padding down the hall, and opens his eyes to see his girlfriend. his sweet, perfect, sexy fucking girlfriend. and it’s like a breath of fresh air, especially after not having seen her the past few days. and she’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts with a crop top that barely covers the curve of her breasts. 

it’s like a reward, he thinks to himself, for all the bullshit he put up with today at the restaurant. 

“welcome home,” she greets, walking past the couch and into the kitchen. 

“hey,” he returns, eyes following her, gaze raking down her backside as she gets herself a glass of water. 

“how was work?” she’s oblivious to the way he’s hungrily looking at her, oblivious to how pent up he feels. 

“long,” he responds, eyes trailing up the length of her legs. 

she lets out a hum of acknowledgement, turning to face him and taking a long sip of water. she catches him watching her intently, his arm stretched out over the back of the couch and neck craned. 

“enjoying the view?” comes her tease.

“y’look good,” he defends. 

“yeah?” 

“mhm.” 

the girl sets her glass down and begins to saunter to the couch. carmen’s eyes follow her closely. 

“how good?” she stops in front of him. 

“good enough to eat.” a small smile twitches the edge of his lip. 

“yeah? wanna taste?” her hands come to her hips, and she pushes her chest out slightly. 

fuck. he shamelessly looks her up and down. this was getting to be dangerous territory. 

“do you wanna go to out to dinner this week?” he changes course, watching her brain stutter for a second. 

“wh-dinner?” 

he nods, resting his head against his hand. she pauses for a moment, studying his face. 

“where?” 

“wherever you want.”

“like…a date?” 

“mhm,” a smirk tugs at the edge of his lips, “cause you’re, uh…my girlfriend now.” 

a grin breaks her face. she thinks for a moment. 

“can we go to your restaurant?” 

“uh…yeah, i guess we can.”

“you guess?” she asks. 

“yeah, we can go. but you’re probably gonna get a lot of, uh…attention.” he admits hesitantly. 

“from who? your staff?” 

he nods. they would probably lose their shit seeing him bring in a girl to eat dinner with. not to mention a girl that looks like her. 

“okay,” she nods, “i’ll dress cute. you can help me pick.”

“yeah?” he likes the sound of that. 

“mhm. whatever you want.” 

carmen rubs his hand over his face then locks his eyes on her again. this girl is going to be the death of him. 

“c’mere,” he beckons.

the girl gently steps forward, standing in between his spread legs. his hand comes to the back of her thigh as he sits forward, gazing up at her with those big blue eyes. he looks so handsome, and she can’t help but place her hands on his face and lean in to kiss him. 

it’s gentle and sweet, and it only makes him want more, tightening his grip on her leg as she pulls away. 

“you taste minty,” she says softly, still leaning over him, stroking her thumb across his face. 

“you sure?” he’s fixated on her lips, “might wanna check again.” he definitely is minty from the nicorette gum he’d been chewing. but it’s worth a shot.

this makes her smile. and she does check again. decides it’s spearmint she tastes. 

before she can pull back, carmy pulls her forward to straddle him. she makes a sound of surprise, but leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to kiss him.

“missed you today,” he slips in between kisses.

“liar,” she smiles against his lips. 

his hands come to her hips, pulling her against him. 

“nah, it’s true,” another kiss, “couldn’t stop fuckin’ thinking about you.” 

“prove it.” she grinds against his bulge, making him tighten his grip. 

“lay down,” he growls, pulling away. there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“or else what?” she challenges 

he grabs both sides of her thighs and stands up with her still straddling his waist, turning and dropping her back onto the couch. 

okay, he’s not in the mood for arguing anymore. good to know. 

carmen cages her with his arms and kisses her deeply before trailing his lips down her jaw, neck, collarbones, only being stopped by the neckline of her shirt. he glances up at her, and she eagerly takes it off. he smiles at the silent act of obedience and continues kissing down her body, barely giving any attention to her breasts before his lips come to her stomach. the girl huffs at this, and he pretends to not notice. 

“what are you doing?” she strains, watching as his lips come to rest just above the waistband of her shorts. 

“m’getting my taste,” he replies casually 

“carmy,” she chides, face becoming red and hot. 

“what?” his fingers hook her waistband, “you embarrassed or something?” another kiss on her hipbone. 

she is, inexplicably. and vulnerable and exposed and horny all at the same time. she hides her face in her arms instead of responding, feeling him slide the shorts down her legs, left clad only in a thin pair of panties. 

carmy hooks his arms around her legs and pulls her closer to his mouth, pressing slow, firm kisses to her covered mound.

the girl lets out a labored breath at the heat of his lips against her clit as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses on her covered pussy. her cotton underwear becomes damp with his tongue, and she arches into the feeling with a sharp breath in. 

carmy nuzzles the fabric and deeply inhales, letting out a low groan.

“ah- don’t do that!” the girl tries to clamp her legs shut out of embarrassment, but he holds them firmly in place and presses his face closer to her core, continuing to kiss and suck her through the fabric. 

“you smell good,” carmy defends. “and these are cute,” he snaps the band of her panties. 

she can hardly even process the statement before he starts sliding them down her thighs, bunching up the fabric and putting it in his pocket. 

“hey, you can’t have those,” she strains. 

there’s a delay in carmen’s response—too busy studying her soft pussy up close, lips gleaming with wetness, bundle of nerves twitching under his gaze. 

“i’ll, uh…make it up to you,” his eyes stay fixed on the glorious sight upon him. 

he leans in, flattens his tongue against her clit, and begins to gently lick. 

the girl gasps, and her hands fly down to grab his hair as she releases a whine of pleasure. 

the tantalizing licks to her clit are gentle. almost not enough. she tugs on his hair and tries to scoot forward, so he eases his tongue back. 

when his eyes flicker to her face. her skin is flushed, lip clamped between her teeth, and she’s looking at him hungrily. 

“y’so pretty,” he presses a kiss to her clit, “taste so fuckin’ good.” 

her head falls back and she breathes out sharply. it’s too much to keep making eye contact with him. the slow, teasing licks are the only thing she can concentrate on. 

“you gonna say thank you?” it’s more of a demand than a question, as he glides his finger over her entrance, collecting her syrupy wetness. 

“n-no,” she struggles, face hot and red. 

thank you, really? how embarrassing. 

his tongue flicks over her clit repeatedly, his finger dips inside of her opening ever so slightly. 

“no?” his lips close around her clit and he sucks, cherishing the sound of the first moan she allows to slip out. 

“mmm,” she whines in response, beginning to pant at the feeling of his mouth. 

“c’mon, be a good girl for me?” unlikely, but he asks anyways

“i am,” she argues, pulling his head towards her needy heat. he scoffs at this and continues to swirl his tongue around her clit.

“then say thank you.”

“carm, i’m not saying-ah thank you!” she cuts herself off with a moan as he sinks his finger inside of her. “y’welcome” he replies lowly, a smirk fighting to break his face. 

“shut up. i didn’t-mmh! …mean it like that.”

she sits up onto her forearms, watching him curl his digit upwards inside of her, trying to keep it together. 

“you’re so fuckin’ cute.” he growls, then dives forward to taste her again. his fingers curl rhythmically, tongue lightly swirling her sensitive clit, giving her barely enough stimulation to get by. 

“more,” she whines, bucking her hips up slightly. he gives her a disapproving glance, so she adds a “please”. 

“yeah?” he kisses her clit. 

she frantically nods her head, trying to scoot closer to the man, trying to buck her hips against his hand. 

carmen speeds up the pace of his fingers, sucking her clit into his mouth, free hand gripping onto her thigh. 

“yeah,” she moans, “fuck, you’re so good at that.”

he preens at the praise and swirls her clit with his tongue, beginning to lap at her pussy. when he adds a second finger she cries out his name.

the view above him in combination with how sweet she sounds leaves his cock pulsing beneath his denim. he reaches down with his free hand, undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. he just needs a little something to keep him from fucking her into the couch. 

as he goes to wrap his fingers around his cock, he’s interrupted by the harsh buzz of his phone on the table.

the girl startles at this, and both of their eyes dart to the contact tag. 

fucking richie. 

he doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, and leans back in to taste her again, ignoring the loud vibrations. he begins to softly stroke himself, groaning into her pussy. 

“do you need to-ah… to get that?

“no,” he replies sharply, “y’taste too fuckin’ good to stop.”

the girl whimpers at the sound of his voice. at how low and raspy and hungry it sounds. 

“let me taste,” her plead comes breathily. 

carmen nearly groans at her request, more than willing to happily oblige. he licks a long stripe up her pussy, collecting her slick on his tongue, then leans over for a kiss. the girl eagerly (and messily) accepts his lips, swirling her tongue around his own, tasting her juices. she tasted herself before off his fingers, but it’s so much better off his tongue. she moans appreciatively and holds the sides of his face, pulling him in for deeper, sloppier, wetter kisses. the vibration of the phone stops, and his fingers continue their pace, curling into her heat, beginning to produce a squelching sound from the slick of her arousal. 

“yes!” she cries into his lips, eyes nearly rolling back into her head. 

“so perfect, y’know that?” he punctuates his words with the thrust of his fingers, gently biting at the girl’s bottom lip. 

she’s only able to muster a moan in response, trailing her hand down her stomach to circle her neglected clit, babbling out a string of “yes yes yes yes.”

the phone vibrates harshly atop the edge of the table again, falling to the floor with a loud thud. 

“fuck!” carmen exclaims, ripping his hand out of his pants. he stops curling his fingers inside of her and leans down to angrily grab his phone. the girl lets out a cry of protest. 

“carmy m’so close, please,” she begs pathetically. grabbing at his arm. 

“be quiet,” he hushes her, scooting back down to his previous position between her legs, “can y’do that for me?” 

she nods eagerly, biting down on her lip. 

carmen answers the call with a harsh “what?” and rolls his eyes at the voice that blares through the other line. 

his fingers remain engulfed in her heat, and he begins to slowly curl them again. the girl lets out a sharp breath and he shoots her a warning look, mouthing a stern “quiet.”

he puts the call on speakerphone, then places it on her stomach, leaning down to softly lick her clit. the girls eyes widen in surprise. a loud voice begins to come through the phone. 

“-that he was going to do it anyways, but i said ‘no way, carmy would have a fuckin’ bitch fit if we didn’t ask!’ so don’t answer the phone all fuckin’ mad, it’s not my fault,” the voice at the other line loudly rambles. carmy lifts his mouth from her pussy to respond

“jesus, richie, just look at the fucking floor plan.” 

“you don’t think we tried that? the vents aren’t lining up with the floor pla- what is that sound?” 

carmy curls his fingers a bit faster, pressing his tongue flat against her clit instead of answering. the girl gasps, convinced her lip is going to start bleeding from how hard she’s biting down on it. 

his eyes flicker up to her, and she mouths a “what the fuck?” 

like an asshole, he just grins in response. 

“hello?? earth to asshole,” richie’s voice cuts in loudly, “what the fuck are you doing over there?” 

carmen pulls away from her pussy with wet lips. he looks pretty, she thinks, like he has lipgloss on or something. 

“m’eating dessert,” he responds truthfully. the girl’s faces grows incredibly hot. 

“you wh- dessert? what is it, is it good?”

“fuck, richie, you-” he sighs, “forget about the vents,” he begins to rub gentle circles around her clit, “just have them do the pipes and go home. and stop fucking calling me.” 

“you think i wanted to call you, you fuckin’ baby? it’s gonna be an extra $200 for them to come back tomorrow and…” he continues to ramble on. meanwhile the girl holds onto carmy’s shoulder, digging her nails in, trying to anchor herself. the feeling of his fingers plunging into her is incredible, and there’s an unexpected rush at the risk of being listened to. of being caught.

carmen laps at her pussy, then closes his lips around her clit and sucks gently. he keeps doing this rhythmically, curling his fingers up into her core, continually switching between gentle licks and slurping and sucking. it’s a particularly deep thrust of his fingers that make her release her lip from her teeth and cry out loudly.

“ah-!” 

carmy’s eyes dart upwards at the moan, watching as she claps a hand over her mouth in shock. 

“what the fuck was that?” richie’s voice sounds after a pause. 

carmen, without a care that they could be caught, continues eating the girl out, giving her a look that says “you are so getting it.”

“hello?? are you watching porn or something, you fuckin’ weirdo?”

he rolls his eyes at the accustation, why would he be watching porn while on the phone? 

“no, i’m not watching fucking porn, richie. finish the vents tomorrow, i’m not arguing about this anymore. goodnight.” he grows increasingly impatient, and it reflects in the quickened pace of his fingers. 

“wait, wait, one more thing-”

“fuck, what?!” carmen snaps. 

the girl lets out a sound of exasperation, coming up on a perpetual orgasm then being denied every time he removes his mouth. the pressure is growing to be unbearable, and she softly whines a “carmyy.”

“i know, baby, i got you,” he whispers back, barely loud enough for her to hear. he brings his mouth to suck on her clit again while richie continues yapping about the fucking vents. fuck the vents. 

carmy just watches the girl’s face, tuning out the voice from the phone. he studies how flushed she is—from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. how she seems like she’s barely holding on. how her legs begin to tremble. how she tries desperately to keep from making noise, pressing her lips together firmly, eyes screwed shut, breathing ragged. 

the wet, squelching sound from her pussy begins to sound again, juices flooding down his fingers, soaking his hand. it feels unbelievable and she begins to lose patience. 

“carm, hang up,” she cries, much louder than she means to. richie’s voice stops in its tracks. 

“are you f-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, “who is that?”  

“none of your fuckin’ buisness,” carmy snaps, “the central vent is the one that’s the most fucked up, so get it sealed and go the fuck home. and don’t fucking call me again.” 

“yeah, yeah, whatever. you have fun over there, assh-” carmy hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the floor. 

“what the fuck, carm?” she asks exasperatedly, face fully flushed. 

“you’re not very good at staying quiet.” 

“you were- ah!” she loses her sentence as he dips back down to swirl her clit with his tongue. 

“i was what?” he mutters into her wetness, slipping his free hand back into his pants. 

“you were doing that!” she cries, tangling her fingers in his curls.

“it feel good?” he laps at her cunt, rhythmically curling his fingers. 

“yeah,” she cries, “please don’t stop again. please.” 

a small smirk breaks on his face at how nicely she’s able to ask, even after being tormented with interruptions moments ago. he rewards her by continuing his steady pace, keeping everything constant, coaxing an orgasm out of her. 

he squeezes the head of his cock, stroking the length of it faster now. she tastes so good, and the sounds she’s making are so pretty, it’s easy to lose himself in the pleasure. 

she bucks her hips against his face, getting his nose wet. her grip on his hair tightens. her body feels hotter, hotter, hotter and-

“carm-!” she gasps, “fuck, baby, that’s so good. m’gonna cum. please keep doing that pleasepleasepleasebabyyesyesyes,” she babbles, grinding her hips against his face, practically riding his fingers which curl so deliciously inside of her. the man has to force himself to not stop and make a snarky comment about how cute she sounds when she’s all fucked out like this . 

with a final few curls of his fingers and another swirl of his tongue, she’s coming completely undone. her head falls back and she rides out the orgasm shakily. 

he bucks his hips into his hand with fervor, groaning into her pussy as he feels himself approaching an embarrassingly easy climax. 

she clenches around his fingers, and he wriggles them as deeply as he can, swirling her clit with his tongue. 

the girl lets out a cry, feeling herself be pushed far past her peak, hand flying down to grab his wrist. 

“ah-carm, s’too much.” 

“you can take it, yeah?” he growls, rutting into his hand. he’s so close. just needs to taste her for a little longer. there’s a hot pulse surging throughout his body. 

the girl’s breathing becomes loud, a rapid inhale exhale inhale exhale. 

at the labored sound, he takes some mercy on her and stops moving his fingers, focusing solely on lapping at her throbbing clit. his cock twitches in his hand, and with a few final frenzied pumps, he cums into his palm.

“fuck,” he groans, resting his head on her pelvis for a moment. the two of them bask in the post-orgasm high, catching their breaths. carmen’s jaw aches a bit. he plants one last kiss on her oversensitive clit, then pulls away, easing his fingers out slowly.

“kiss me,” she pleads breathily, feeling slightly dizzy from the orgasm. 

“yeah? wanna taste yourself again?” his voice is low, kind of raspy. 

she nods eagerly.

he leans over and, to her surprise, shoves his fingers in her mouth, swirling them around her tongue, making sure she gets every drop she left behind. the girl enthusiastically cleans his fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. 

the moment he eases them out, he dives into her lips hungrily, shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting the heavenly mix of her saliva and arousal. 

she grabs his face and licks her cum from the side of his lips, from his chin, gathering it before kissing him frantically again. 

“mm, thank you,” she mutters against his lips sweetly. 

“y’welcome.” he loves how she thanks him. 

the taste is intoxicating, and he’s tempted to lick her pussy again just so the both of them can continue to indulge. but there’s a sticky mess on his hand and the inside of his boxers, so he pulls away from her lips, and grabs a tissue from the box on the coffee table. 

the girl’s eyes widen in surprise as he eases his cum-covered hand out of his boxers.

“is that- did you..?”

he wipes the white substance off his hand, small small teasing the edge of his lips. 

“uh…yeah. that was, um… that was really hot,” he admits.  

“yeah, except the part where you put me on the phone with your employee.”

“nah…” he shakes his head, a smirk on his face, “i think you liked that.”

“wha-no i did not,” her eyes widen, “it was so embarrassing.” it was embarrassing, but it really turned her on—not that he needs to know that.  

“embarrassing?”

“yes, embarrassing! get that dumb grin off your face, it was!” 

this only makes him smile harder, beginning to laugh. 

“yeah? that why you soaked my fuckin’ fingers?” 

she sits up and reaches for her tank top, a bashful expression on her face. 

“no. that’s just because it felt good.” 

“you were squeezing me like crazy trying to stay quiet,” he continues to try and provoke her, liking how feisty she becomes. 

“give me my panties back.” the girl rolls her eyes and ignores his statement. 

“what panties?” he asks cluelessly. 

“carmy.”

“yeah, baby?” 

she scoffs and mutters a “whatever” before standing up and slipping on her shorts. pantiless. there’s a creeping blush on her face as she wonders what he even wants them for. 

“so, tomorrow?” he asks before she can walk away, “for our date?” 

she pauses, then nods. 

“but we’re not going to your restaurant.” 

“why not?” there’s a small smirk on his face. 

she gives him a look that says, because you just ate me out on the phone with the guy that would probably be serving us, dumbass, but stays quiet, beginning to walk to the stairs 

carmen lets out a chuckle, and stands to follow her after cleaning his hand off. he hooks the waistband of her shorts and pulls her back. hands coming to her hips to steady her, his chest flush against her back. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” he leans down to kiss her neck. she can feel his smirk against her skin, “you hungry? y’eat yet?” 

she shakes her head no, closing her eyes at the sensation of his kisses. 

“no you didn’t eat or no you’re not hungry?” he asks, nipping the skin below her earlobe. 

“both,” she exhales, leaning back against him, her hands coming overtop his. she suddenly notices how big they are splayed out over her hips.

“you haven’t eaten dinner yet?” he stops kissing her. 

“m’not hungry,” she breathes, “keep kissing me there.”

he removes his hands from her hips and steps back. she lets out a noise of disappointment and turns to face him with a pout. he doesn’t see this, though, already walking to the kitchen and turning on the light to make her something. 

“carmy,” she calls, following him, “it’s late. let’s just go to bed.”

he ignores her, opening their cabinets to retrieve a box of spaghetti. 

“hey,” she grabs his arm, leaning to meet his eyes, “come on. i wanna cuddle.” 

“we will. but i’m gonna make you dinner first.” his voice is firm. he pulls his arm away from her and reaches down to grab a pot. 

he’s so demanding. but the gesture makes her feel incredibly affectionate towards the man, so it’s hard to be mad at.

as he fills the pot with water, the girl snakes her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, pressing herself flush against his back. 

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shirt, taking a deep breath of their shared laundry detergent. her hand sneaks under his shirt and she drags her fingers into the deep cut of his v line. 

carmen reaches his hand behind him, caressing her hip without saying anything in response. 

she pulls away after a moment and he puts the pot of water on to boil. 

“you eating enough?” 

his question catches her off guard. 

“i- what?” 

“you heard me.” he crosses his arms.

she stares at him for a moment, studying his tightly set jaw. the way it twitches a bit.

“yeah, i am.”  

“yeah?” he looks like he doesn’t believe her. 

and maybe she had been a bit forgetful lately, missing breakfast, oftentimes coming home too tired to make dinner and opting for a snack instead. she didn't think he had been so observant, though. 

“yes.” her tone is quiet. 

he just stares at the girl silently, striking blue eyes boring a hole into her. she crumbles under his gaze. 

“i’ve just been…stressed. i don’t know. haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“what are you stressed about?” 

“going back home i guess,” she admits quietly, shuffling on her feet. 

he doesn’t respond, giving her the opportunity to elaborate without pressure. 

“i just- it’s gonna be hard. y’know when i told you my mom and i have a complicated relationship?” 

he nods, and she continues. 

“yeah, that was like…understatement of the year.” 

he nods, a knowing look on his face. 

“yeah, no. i, uh…i know exactly what you mean.” he really does. 

“and um, she’s sick. like, not entirely there,” she points to her head, “so she gets really mean. but then she can also be the nicest, most motherly person. its just…really unpredictable.” 

it was almost uncanny, the way in which he pictures donna as she gives her description. 

“i, uh…yeah. i get it,” he clears his throat, “i’ve dealt with someone like that my whole life.” he intently locks eyes with her, wishing he could say more to alleviate her dread. 

“how did-how do you deal with it?” she asks quietly, after a moment. 

“i, uh…i don’t really?” he rubs his neck, letting out a sardonic chuckle, “i haven’t talked to her in…months probably.”

“really?” 

“yeah, i’ve, um…been kind of an asshole, actually. my sister is really the only one that deals with her.” 

“you’re not an asshole,” she locks eyes with him, “well, sometimes you are. but not cause of that. that’s more like a…i dunno, a defense response.”

he laughs at her bluntness. 

“so i am an asshole, just not for that?” 

“correct.”

“how am i an asshole?” 

“you’ve been trying to make me jealous since i got here.” 

“not trying. it actually worked very well.” he has a stupid smile on his face when he says that. 

“shut up!” she laughs, shoving her hands against his chest as hard as she can. he barely moves from it, grabbing both her wrists firmly with an amused look on his face. she struggles against his grip, trying to shake the feeling of arousal that comes with how easily he’s able to overpower her. 

“why’re you so fiesty, huh?” he grins, pulling her closer. 

“cause you’re a fucker, that’s why.” she tries again to pull her arms back, but to no avail. her face feels hot, and she becomes hyper aware of the fabric touching her skin, the hair on her neck, the tingle of the rough grip on her wrists. his face is much closer now, and she fights the urge to lean forward and indulge.

“yeah?” 

“mhm,” her response overlaps his. 

“what are you gonna do about it?” he mocks, “huh?”

her eyes flicker down his face. he has a stupid fucking smirk plastered on his lips. fuck, she wants to kiss him. 

an idea pops into her head. 

the girl leans forward, gently ghosting her lips over his own. her tongue darts out and she licks his bottom lip, then sucks it into her mouth and bites softly. then she gives him a soft and gentle barely there kiss. 

she feels his grasp on her wrist loosen, so she splays her hand over his chest. 

her lips hover over his for just a moment more, and then she shoves him. 

carmy stumbles back slightly, less prepared that time, hands coming behind him to steady himself on the counter. when he meets her eyes again he has a dark glint in his eyes. almost like anger, but hungrier.

the next thing she knows, he yanks her into his chest, grabs her hip and roughly bends her over the countertop. 

she just thinks to herself, finally. 

carmen tugs her hips back until her forearms fall to the counter and she arches her spine. until she’s flush with his pelvis and he’s pressing his achingly hard cock against her ass. 

“such a bratty fuckin’ girl,” his tone is rough, strained.  “you know that? fuckin’ had it with you.” 

“i’m n-” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he harshly tugs the waistband of her shorts up, wedging the fabric between her cheeks and giving himself a nice view of the supple skin.

“you’re what?” he smooths his hand over her ass, watching her arch into his touch. watching as she opens her mouth to say something, then close, staying silent and shuffling her hips against his groin. 

carmen lets out a groan—half frustration, half arousal, smoothing his hands over her hamstrings and firmly squeezing the soft flesh before trailing back up to her ass. 

“you doing this on purpose?” both hands grab her ass, kneading, pulling her closer against his hardness. 

no response. she can’t, not without moaning. 

“hmm?” he shoves his hips forward into her, “you trying to get a reaction outta me tonight? or are y’really just that fucking bratty?” the hand gripping her flesh squeezes harder. 

“i-mmh…that-…keep doing that.” she chooses to ignore his question. 

“answer me.”

still nothing. 

“you want me to spank you? cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep this shit up.”

his words make her stomach flip. of course she does. she hides her smile in her arms and stays quiet, pushing back into him. hoping he’ll stick to his words. 

carmen raises his hand, and cracks it down on her right cheek, grabbing the flesh immediately after to ease some of the sting. 

“ah-!” she grips the countertop, arching her spine. his hand leaves behind a hot, tingling sensation, flooding through her body like a wave. 

“y’okay?” he tries to sound caring but his tone comes out rough, heavy with arousal. 

“yeah.” better than okay. incredibly horny, actually.  “that hurt?” his hand smooths over the reddening skin. 

“no,” she shakes her head, pushing back against him again, “thought you were gonna spank me.”

she cranes her neck trying to get a look at the man. his pupils are blown, face is rosy, and when she meets his eyes there’s a dangerous glint to them. 

he wedges her shorts up higher, exposing more of her ass, then smacks her in the same spot without warning. harder this time. 

“fuck-!” she gasps sharply. it hurts, but in a way that has her pressing her thighs together desperately to try and get some relief. 

“can you take one more, pretty girl?” 

“yeah,” she whines enthusiastically, shuffling her hips back against his groin. 

“yeah? y’so tough, baby.” his voice has a slight mocking edge to it as he does everything in his power to not yank the shorts down her legs and fuck her into the counter. 

“just…shut up and do it.” she tries to mask her eagerness, but it doesn’t work very well. 

he scoffs, and rubs his large hand over her supple skin. when he feels her relax, he raises it and cracks down on her other cheek. 

she partially muffles the loud cry by biting down on her forearm, feeling a few tears begin to form in her eyes. 

“you have such a cute ass, y’know that?” he squeezes both of her cheeks in tandem, pulling them apart, pushing them together, “can already see the handprints forming.” his voice is low and rough.

“wh-really?” her brain feels fuzzy with desire as she tries to switch gears. 

“you wanna see?” 

she nods her head frantically, butterflies arising at the thought. 

carmen pulls his phone out of his back pocket and holds it over her, snapping a picture with a low groan. 

“look back at me,” he demands softly. 

she does, peering over her right shoulder to see him holding the camera facing her. the embarrassment makes her face feel hot, but she lets him take the picture anyway, looking into the lense with a small pout on her face. 

“so fucking pretty,” he growls, lowering the phone and clicking on the picture he took, admiring it for a moment before turning the phone so she could see. 

it was quite the picture—cherry red handprints over her round ass, shorts wedged up so far they look like underwear, the curves of her body accentuated by the angle. 

carmy swipes to the left and reveals the photo of her looking back at the camera, all flushed cheeks and pouty lips and misty eyes. she knows she should probably feel embarrassed, but seeing herself like that just makes the throbbing between her legs intensify. 

carmen turns off the phone and puts it back in his pocket. he leans over and grabs her face, studying her with furrowed brows before leaning down kissing her firmly. 

“you okay?” another kiss, “really?”

she nods, eagerly reciprocating the kiss, moaning a soft “mhm” against his lips.  

“didn’t hurt too bad?” his brows are furrowed, their movements beginning to quicken. she slips her tongue into his mouth and she begins to kiss him faster, losing herself in his lips. 

carmy reciprocates for a moment before muttering a gentle “hey,” pulling back a bit, “answer me.” his gaze flickers over the sheen on her cheeks, left behind from a few stray tears. 

her eyes flutter open, fighting the urge to not chase his lips. 

“it didn’t hurt,” she affirms hazily, “felt good. can you put it in? please?”

“jesus, christ” he groans, dipping back in for another kiss, “want me to fuck you? needy fuckin’ girl.”

she nods with a small, bashful smile and softly nips at his bottom lip, fighting the urge to bite harder. 

carmen straightens to his previous position behind her and slips his fingers beneath the hem of her bunched up shorts. he pulls them to the side to reveal her glistening pussy, letting out a sharp exhale at the sight. he’s about to reach out and touch her when she gasps.

“carm, the water.”

it angrily bubbles and pours down the sides of the pot, sizzling when it splashes onto the flames. 

“fuck,” he pulls away from her, quickly moving to turn off the burner. “stay right there.” 

and she would’ve, had another fucking phone not started ringing. 

the girl cries out his name frustratedly, just wanting him to come back over and fuck her brains out. 

“it’s not mine this time,” carmy defends, adjusting the tent of his pants. he’s so hard it’s almost painful, increasingly eager to get back behind her. 

she huffs and straightens, readjusting the uncomfortably wedged-up shorts as she follows the sound of the ringer. when she retrieves her phone from between the couch cushions, her heart drops at the contact name. 

mom.

in a single moment it’s like the air gets sucked from her lungs. her skin stops tingling with that warm heat, body stops buzzing with pleasure—all the good feelings flood from her suddenly. 

carmen wipes down the stove, drying the water that had boiled over before refilling the pot and turning the heat back on. his roommate talks in a hushed, urgent tone in the living room, and he tries to refrain from curiously moving closer and eavesdropping. curiosity almost gets the better of him, but a few more moments pass and he hears delicate footsteps approaching. 

he looks up, and catches the sight of her tear-streaked face. her big, sad eyes. a pit forms in his stomach. 

“everything okay?” he’s unable to hide the concern in his tone. 

she doesn’t say anything. she can’t. so she just rushes forward and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

“hey,” he soothes, tightly reciprocating the hug, “what happened?” he kisses the side of her head. 

it takes her a minute before she’s able to verbalize, just wanting to nuzzle herself as far into his chest as she can, wishing she could just disappear into him completely. 

he says her name, pulling away slightly to get a look at her sweet, sad face. “what’s goin’ on, huh?” 

“i’m going back next week,” it’s hard to make eye contact with him, so she looks to the side with blurry vision. 

“what?” it’s like a punch in the stomach. 

“i-…my mom,” she sighs exasperatedly, “she’s just getting worse,” at this point the tears stream down her cheeks. 

he cups her face with both hands, wiping them away with his thumbs. he just stares at her, not knowing exactly what to say to make this shitty situation better. 

“i’m-….fuck, i’m sorry.” he puts his forehead on hers, “m’so so sorry.” he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for—the state of her mother or the dread of her sudden departure. either way, there’s this overwhelming feeling of loss trying to wrap his head around how soon next week really is. 

“m’gonna go to bed,” she mutters, tightly closing her eyes to stop the flow of tears, nose brushing against his. 

“you don’t wanna eat with me?” 

she gives a small shake of her head, having lost her appetite at the news. 

carmy wants to push it. but she just looks so tired and sad, he figures it’s better not to. his hand comes to the back of her neck, and he pulls her into a bear hug, kissing the side of her head. 

“go wait in my bed for me,” another kiss, “i’ll be up in a bit.”

“i need a shower,” she mutters into his neck, “you made me all…sticky.”

he can’t help but let out a humorous exhale, finding a small bit of relief from her words. 

“yeah? sorry about that.” he has a soft, barely there smile on his face. 

“you know i love you, carmy?” 

her quiet confession stops his train of thought. stops the noise of it all. it kind of feels like it even stops his heart, just for a second.

it was something she hadn’t yet said to him without the hazy high of lust. something she had been waiting on until it felt real. 

carmen eases away from the tight hug, getting a good look at her face. she’s entirely genuine, brows furrowed and eyes glossy, searching his expression for reassurance. he dips forward and kisses her softly, hand caressing her cheek. 

“i know,” his thumb traces along her jaw, “i love you too.”

she turns her head to the side and kisses his hand.

“you gonna come to california with me?” she softly bites his thumb. 

“yeah, baby.” he nods. it’s a lie, and they both know that. 

sometimes it’s easier to fantasize about what could be than accept what never will. 

-

it’s far too late into the night by the time carmen has eaten and showered. he blearily trudges down the hall and pushes his door open. and like a breath of fresh air, there she was. cuddled up in his blankets, face buried in his pillow. it feels incredibly domestic, and he finds himself wishing he could come home to this every night of his life. 

carmen eases into bed slowly as to not wake her, shuffling his body against hers. then he just watches her for a bit. 

he watches her chest rise and fall. watches the way her lips slightly part with her heavy breaths. she looks so peaceful unconscious, like there isn’t a worry in the world. 

he thinks about how selfishly he wants to keep that placating expression on her face. wants to keep her to himself. thinks about how selfishly he wishes she didn’t even have a family to return to—how fucked up is that?  it’s almost surreal, staring at her sleeping form, mourning her loss while she’s still in front of him. tangible and soft and beautiful and sleeping right there. 

carmen reaches out and strokes her cheek at the thought, then leans in to press a gentle kiss to her resting lips. it doesn’t make him feel better like he thought it would. 

he turns off the light and pulls her in close. 

-

pt 2 of i didn't know

[catsannie]

IM JUST EMBARRASSED

SYNOPSIS~ when your friends reach out saying you need to be more “social” and need to talk to more people, your friend tells you she “knows a guy” for you to get aquatinted with, what she didn’t tell you is he’s in another country and doesn’t speak the same language. will this work out?

AUTHORS NOTE ~ heyyyyy guys im starting to get back into writing this again, ive just been so busy 😔 but i hope yall enjoy this chapter! i apologize if its boring and if its ass😭, im still getting back into the hang of things

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Putting down her phone defeated, y/n looks over at the character that has been idling on her island. ‘why did i have to say i only knew animal crossing, i could have lied. or tried to change the conversation to something else.”

As she was about to turn off the switch a buzzing came from the couch. Looking towards the phone, it was yeri.

“Hey yeri, what’s up?” Y/N asked while trying to put everything away.

“you’re never going to believe who i got a message from!!” she squealed. Knowing yeri it was either a new guy she was talking to, or seunghun and yonghee trying to get her help on something.

“i don’t know yeri, was it seunghun telling you he got his foot stuck in a pot again?” Y/N asked. Knowing seunghun it was a possibility. “cause i can’t deal with having to put butter around his ankle because he’s too afraid to break the pot.”

“uhhhhh no, it was San!” Yeri exclaimed. “ he felt bad with how the conversation went and wants to try again!”

With a sigh, Y/N sat back down on her couch, ‘San? feel bad? why would he feel bad?’ does he just want to feel bad cause he can? or is there another reason. “Yeri, why does he feel bad? i should be the one feeling bad, cause clearly animal crossing wasn’t the greatest answer to give him.”

It was embarrassing. Since he clearly didn’t play the game or possibly like it. But there are more conversations to have that does not involve video games that neither of them play… for certain reasons.

“It is just who he is as a person Y/N. He feels bad that he asked a stupid question and didn’t ask a more straight forward one. He was also nervous.” Yeri Added. Y/N could hear some shuffling from the other end of the phone, yeri was either fidgeting because she’s nervous or getting onto her couch.

At this point, she was willing to play the long game. Test out the waters with San and see where things go. It could either go good and she learns the language, or it goes bad like all the other men she’s talked to in the past.

“Fine Yeri, if that’s how he feels about it i’ll send him a message tomorrow. I just want to turn off my switch and watch some tv. My brain is fried.” Y/N chuckled while picking up the switch controller.

“Your brain wouldn’t be fried if you went outside instead of playing animal crossing all day. But anyways, i’ll talk to you later i think seunghun actually got his foot stuck in a pot.” Yeri sighed while abruptly hanging up.

It was a normal occurrence for their friendship, Yeri being the sweetheart of them all. She sees the good in everyone, it doesn’t matter if you screwed her over in the past. If there was one person Y/N could trust with her life it was Yeri.

Looking at the time on her phone, Y/N stands up and cracks her back.

“yeah it’s about time i get my ass off this couch and do something.” Y/N mumbles while turning off the console.

Tomorrow will be the day she reaches out to San again to have an actual conversation.

TAGLIST~

@tiddygang2020 @1lovejinki @astrid-potato @potatos-on-clouds @staytinyluv

[smut-anarchy]

Own Me - Chapter Four

Tags: Dom!Mattheo, Gryffandor!Reader, Cursing, Blackmail, Anxiety!Reader, Dubious Consent, Spanking, Language, M**blood Slur

Word Count: 4,187 Words

Chapter Four: Reaping Rewards... And Punishments Too

How did my life turn into this?

After kissing you stupid in the broom closet Mattheo only interacted with you during classes. You were thankful for the break from him, your neurons still fried from his amazingly wicked lips. You felt lost, there was the part of you with hatred for his arrogance and the manipulation he’s put you through. But smaller, growing part of you was feeling the sweltering heat of lust, an ache not only wanting a repeat of the kiss but even more than that.

You’d only shared two other kisses in your time at Hogwarts, one an extremely awkward moment between you and Neville Longbottom during a game of truth or dare in your third year. Needless to say, it had been nothing you were interested in repeating with the fellow Gryffindor, and it took a year and a half for Neville to make eye contact with you again. The other had been a simple cheek kiss from Harry after giving him some valuable information you’d known of the Hungarian Horntail dragon he was set to face during the Triwizard Tournament in your fourth year, and though pleasant it hardly awakened any feelings inside you the way Mattheo had with his teeth and tongue.

On Friday night, your owl, a barn owl you affectionally named Hootie-Pie, flew into your room with a black paper bag and a green envelope. Softly petting her soft feathers and cooing a thanks to her you accepted the bag, tearing open the letter immediately. 

Halloween party tomorrow - 7PM. You’re serving drinks, Kitten. 

Part one of your punishment is in the bag.

M.R.

You felt your stomach plummet, terrified of what punishment could be in the bag. To your horror it was a black velvet strapless bodysuit with matching elbow length gloves, a cat-eared headband, a cat tail attachment and a chunky collar with a comically huge bell and large green tag that said ‘Kitty’. You didn’t know where Mattheo could even get something this tacky or racy, but you were pissed. 

Your rage only grew further when you’d slipped the costume on an hour before the party, that fucker had charmed the ears and tail to twitch and sway like a real cat, the movements being attuned to your mood. 

This was only part one of your punishment, so the logical part of your brain pleaded with you to behave tonight. You often had to remind yourself that Mattheo held your future in his cruel hands while you dressed in the costume, only adjusting it to add some long black thigh high stockings to give you a semblance of covering. 

You’d worn your robes down to the Slytherin common room, not willing to risk being caught by a professor or Filch in such an indecent costume. When you got close enough you saw Theo leaning casually against the wall, a mischievous glint in his eyes upon seeing you.

“Piccola leonessa, I’ve been asked to retrieve you this fine evening.” He greeted, doing a small bow in front of you. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the ridiculous image of the tall boy bowing to you, his joke slightly setting your nerves at ease. 

“Such a gentleman, Nott.” You grinned, “Maybe I got stuck with the wrong Slytherin.” He chuckled, his eyes dropping to look you over. 

“I wouldn’t say that too soon Piccolina. The robes, I’ve been told to take them from you.” He held his hand out expectantly, giving you a playful lopsided grin. You scowled back at him, but nonetheless shrugged off the fabric providing you coverage and dropped it into his awaiting hand. You refused to let any shame grow under his inspecting eyes, straightening yourself and sliding your hand to your hip in a challenging pose.

Theo let his eyes wander over your figure shamelessly, a whistle coming out of his mouth as he stared appreciatively, “Merda, you look good enough to eat.” 

Theo’s reaction was definitely a confidence booster; You felt weirdly naked without one of your chunky sweaters, not used to showing as much skin as you were. Still, you steeled yourself, embracing the boldness within so you could get through this night.

“Thank you, Nott, though I can hardly take credit. Mattheo picked it out.” You mused, growing more brazen under Theo’s gaze. 

“Remind me the thank him then.” He mumbled, his eyes finally reaching back to yours, the steel grey orbs filled with heat.

“Not that I mind the attention but don’t you and your little friends have a rule about mixing with mudbloods, Nott?” You wondered aloud. Since you and Draco’s little tiff the question has been on your mind, as long as you’d been serving Mattheo no one else had elected to use the word to you or in front of you. 

“The only one that cares is Draco,” Theo chucked, “And that’s mostly because he can’t handle that he wants to fuck Granger but has to settle for Parkinson. The rest of us enjoy our muggle relations studies from time to time.” Your mouth dropped open in shock.

Oh Godric,  I can’t believe Luna was right!

“You bunch of sluts!” You’d gaped, the information far too mind blowing for your brain. Theo laughed, amused by your astonishment. 

“Well then,” He cleared his throat, “Shall we, piccola?” He outstretched his arm to you. You rolled your eyes, but looped your own through his. He spoke the password and the door appeared, Theo accompanying you down the stairs. 

“So be honest,” You started, “Am I the only one in costume?” Theo wasn’t wearing one, if you were you going to have to fight embarrassment all night long.

“No, everyone is wearing a costume.” Theo answered, his voice betraying his laughing smile. 

“But you aren’t wearing one.” 

“I have a mask, I’ll put it on later.” You nodded. The closer you got to the common room the more your nerves started to rile up in your body. Theo, somehow sensing your unease, stopped right before the opening. 

“A word of advice, leonessa?” Theo offered. You shook your head at him, with the bundle of nerves in your stomach you’d take any advice. 

“Behave tonight. Make him happy and he’ll reward you.”

Your face scrunched up at the thought, making Mattheo happy seemed impossible, there was no telling what the unpredictable boy wanted from you. However, the prospect of a reward was enticing, you looked at Theo with curiosity, lips ready to ask questions. The Slytherin must have anticipated this, ushering you into the full common room with an impish grin.

You followed Theo through the throng of people, the seemingly endless waves of people parting for him with ease. He led you to the couches in the middle of the room where the group had set up for the night. Enzo, dressed as a pirate, was filling up two fire whiskey shots. Next to him was Blaise, who opted for his quidditch Jersey over a traditional costume. Across for them sat a bored looking Draco, a silver crown atop his head and a green fur cape around his shoulders, across his lap was a laughing Pansy Parkinson, matching his price costume with a princess costume of her own. 

Between the couches, lounging on a green armchair was Mattheo, a white button down shirt with splatters of red stretched across his lithe and muscular torso, a red tie loosely around his neck. When he noticed you and Theo he smiled, revealing two fanged teeth. 

He’s a bloodsucker alright.

“Well, don’t you look fucking bitable, Kitten.” He welcomed. His voice broke Blaise and Enzo from their discussion, their eyes landing on you.

“Holy shit!” Enzo gasped, his eyes rapidly roaming over your costume. Blaise nodded in agreement, looking over you with subtle interest. 

You felt your body warming in a flush, their attention and appreciative looks making you feel bashful. You forced yourself to walk with confidence, nodding greetings at everyone, even Draco and Pansy who elected to huff and turn their noses away at you. 

“I’m glad you like it sir, thank you so much for picking it out.” Mattheo’s dark orbs gleamed in satisfaction. Theo’s words echoed in your mind — behave tonight, get a reward. 

Though the other boys eyes had wandered on your body, taking in your formally hidden curves and skin, it hadn’t sent chills over you the way Mattheo’s was. Mattheo’s gaze slowly crawled up your body, from your heels to your faux ears, his observing, dark irises licking lustful paths of heat on every inch of your skin.

“You’re being so good today, Kitten.” Mattheo praised, his approval sending a spark of yearning into your gut. 

Merlin, if he complimented you like this all the time you’d be a gooey mess.

“You wanted me to serve drinks?” You questioned, hoping to get away from his eyes and the seductive powers they held over you. 

Mattheo nodded, pointing at a little alcove to the left where stockpiles of alcohol sat. “Do a couple laps and then come right back here. I’ll be paying attention so no funny business tonight.”

You chirped out a cheerful, ‘yes sir!’ and skittered to the table, filling a nearby tray full of as many shots as you could carry. Your eyes were on the prize of whatever kind of reward Theo hinted at, so you’d smiled at everyone, offering them a drink. Most of the partygoers didn’t recognize you, which was made apparent the more you’d walked around. Many of the pureblood supremacist students accepting drinks with thankful nods or lustful comments towards you. Still, you ignored everything, taking it all in stride and making several loops around the room until most of the bottles had emptied. 

When you figured Mattheo would be happy with your work, you weaved your way through the bodies back to the couch area. Breaking past the crowd of people you’d found him, though it was no longer only the usual group surrounding him. Leaned over his chair with her polished claws gripping the armrest was Daphne Greengrass in a fucking angel costume.

Yeah fucking right, if she’s an angel I’d rather be in hell. 

Mattheo looked as bored as Draco did, though Draco was at least partially entertaining Pansy with a few words here and there for the gossiping Slytherin girl. Mattheo looked as if he was completely ignoring the girl, his eyes searching the crowd. 

When he saw you approaching his smile appeared, face alight in interest. “There you are Kitten, you did so good tonight. I’m almost impressed.” You couldn’t help but preen under the compliment, a slight blush finding its way to your cheeks.

Godric, if he keeps this up this might not be so bad.

“What are you doing here lion, wander into the snake den on accident?” Daphne’s voice cackled, her face contorted with malice. You could feel your temper rising, the fangs of your anger ready to tear into the girl.

“I’m doing Mattheo a favor tonight.” You curtly responded, your voice holding a chill to withhold the animosity buried in your throat. Daphne looked between you and Mattheo, eyes darting trying to make sense of the scenario no one in the castle outside of Mattheo and his closest friends seemed to be privy to. Another one of her shrill laughs burst out of her.

“So the rumors are true! Riddle is slumming it with a mudblood! Mattheo, baby, you don’t need her, I can give you everything and more.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, making you want to retch. Her implication that Mattheo was ‘slumming it’ with you made you seethe in annoyance, as if you’d be here if it wasn’t for her!

“Nice costume, I wasn’t aware you could dress up as a pigeon.” You growled, your eyes rolling at her desperate attempts of seducing Mattheo. The boy in question seemed amused by you, his attention away from the Slytherin girl. This drove Daphne mad, the boy of her affections seemingly discarding her for what she believed to be an inferior witch.

“Excuse me? I’m an angel, you mangy cat.”

You strode over, now directly in front of her and Mattheo. “Oh my mistake, my second guess was going to be Buckbeak’s ugly sister.” You snarled. Behind Daphne you heard Enzo and Blaise snort, Theo’s soft chuckling next to them.

Buckbeak, forgive me for using your name to roast this bitch.

“Kitten, heel.” Mattheo’s deep voice cut through the rising friction between you and Daphne. He pat the arm of his chair and you followed the silent command to sit down on it, still choosing to glare a Daphne. 

“Oh, I understand,” Daphne fumed, “She’s a little fucking pet for you.” Daphne’s smugness seeped out of her every pore, her hurt pride fueling her foul words. “What would your father think?”

Though the party was still going on at full force, the bubble you were in was stilled to the point you could hear a pin drop. Draco’s gasp and Theo’s ‘oh no’ was distantly registered, though you couldn’t take your eyes off Mattheo, his entire body shaking in fury, his muscles tensed and jaw tightened. 

You almost fell off the arm of the chair with how fast he stood up, his face set into a menacing glower, the veins of his neck straining under his skin. “You don’t get to say shit about my fucking father. Get the fuck out of here.” 

Daphne sputtered, attempting to take back what she said but Mattheo only sat back down and glared up at her, eyes daring her to stay and test his wrath further. In an attempt at saving face she backed away a bit, before settling her eyes on you. 

“You’re just a pet Lion, you’ll never be worth anything to him.” She snapped. This time you were prepared for Mattheo’s wrath, settling a hand softly on his chest to keep him from storming over to her. You don’t know what came over you, but you kept your hand on his chest, sliding down the arm of the chair to settle right in his lap. His raging, fevered skin seeping through his clothes, warming you instantly. If he had not been such a ticking bomb right now his warmth would be almost comfortable for your state of undress. 

“You’re right,” You admitted, her face briefly quirked smugly, “But that’s still more than you’ll ever be.”

Daphne scoffed, scowling and stomping away muttering a string of unkind curses under her breath. 

“Gods, I hate her.” You released, looking at Mattheo. His amber irises darkened, resembling hot coals. His eyes bore into yours, behind them flickered something you couldn’t identify, but as fast as it came it went and was replaced my a mischievous glint. 

“C’mon you troublemaker.” His gruff voice demanded. Without any further word he scooped you up in his arms and threw you over his shoulder. 

You squealed, arms smacking his back as he walked away from his laughing friends, Enzo cheering loudly. 

“Mattheo put me down! This is embarrassing!”

“Don’t make things worse for yourself, Kitten. You’re already in trouble.” You slumped on his shoulder, surrendering under the promising threat in his voice. You sighed grumpily, frustrated that you’d no longer receive the reward you’d been aiming for now. 

Damn it all! It was going so good until that bitch showed up!

Mattheo took you to what you assumed was his dorm, kicking the door closed and tossing you on the solitary large bed in the room. Like you, it looked like Mattheo had no roommates. You wanted to look around and be nosy, curious about the things Mattheo would have in his room, but your curiosity was shattered after hearing Mattheo place silencing charm on the room. 

“You can be so mouthy, you know that?” Mattheo asked sardonically, “I wonder if it’s a habit you’re ever going to break.” 

“She deserved it though…” you’d argued weakly, not sure if putting up a fight would be worth it at this point now that you’re alone with the unpredictable boy.

Mattheo hummed in agreement, slipping his tie from around his neck. The motion chilled you, you were alone in his room and he was undressing. A stone of panic settled in your gut, your eyes flickering everywhere but him and hands fidgeting into the soft sheets under you. 

You were a virgin, you can’t do this. 

“Stand up Kitten.” On shaky legs you followed the command, your body tingling with waves of anxiety. He took your place on the bed, sitting down on the edge and stretching his long legs out. He motioned for you to stand between them and you hesitantly did. 

He pulled you closer by your hips, causing your breath to hitch, his warm large hands summoning terribly dirty images to your mind. His eyes raked over you, inspecting every inch of skin available to his greedy orbs.

“Fucking hell, Kitten. You look damn good like this.” His deep voiced rumbled, sending heat straight to your stomach. 

“Mattheo,” you breathed, your voice coming out like a sigh, “I-I can’t — I mean…” You stumbled over your words, choking on a mix of lust and anxiety gathered in your throat. 

“Did you think I was going to fuck you, Kitten?” 

All of the air left your lungs, your heart pounding in your chest like a bludger, every thump cracking against your ribs and reverberating throughout your bones. Your face flamed up in a blush, you chewed on your plump bottom lip, nodding wordlessly. 

“Don’t worry Kitten, your virginity is safe,” He cooed, his eyes betraying the sweet tone of his words with a mischievous twinkle, “Though I’m afraid everything else is mine.” He punctuated that wicked sentence by sliding his hands from your waist to cup your perky, round bottom. 

You slipped out a gasp as his fingers groped and squeezed your backside, the sensation igniting desire that rippled through your entire being. “H-how?” You released, utterly breathless by his hands again.

“It’s simple,” He chuckled, his mouth curved into a teasing smile, “Your face and body say it all. You act like every time is the first time anyone’s touched you. You’re stupidly easy to read, Kitten.” He pinched your butt cheek, causing your breath to stutter out of you. 

“Tonight is part two of your punishment. I’m going to bend you over my knee, you get five spanks for breaking Malfoy’s nose and five for taunting Greengrass tonight. Then you’ll leave this room, your ass red with my handprints, understand?” His voice drawled sadistically, his fingers still stroking the soft skin of your ass. 

“I didn’t taunt her! She started it!” You argued. 

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, removing his hands from you completely. You hadn’t realized until he removed them how warm they were on your cool skin, your brain yearning to call them back to touch your icy skin. “Then what was all that at the end? Sliding into my lap? Face it, Kitten, you were claiming me.”

You shook your head, mouth opening and closing trying to protest his absurd statement. Of course Mattheo wasn’t yours, you’d only done that because Daphne was being a bitch. You weren’t jealous, you couldn’t be, you had no right to be. Anything between you and Mattheo was strictly contractual, born out of your stupid decision to climb into a magical vase and break it. No, you told yourself, there was no way Mattheo was right, if it had been any other girl it wouldn’t have mattered, Daphne was just an evil bitch that needed to be taken down a peg, and you were fit to give it to her that’s all.

“Regardless, Kitten,” he interrupted your boundless thoughts, “That’s your punishment. If you take them like a good girl, I’ll give you a reward.” 

Your body vibrated with nervous energy, Mattheo patting his knee with a smirk on his face. You braced yourself before gently lowering yourself over his lap, your stomach flush with his muscular thighs. He trailed his hand down your spine, eliciting shivers throughout you, before he settled on your plump ass. 

“You’re going to count each one Kitten, you stop we start over.” 

You inhaled a deep breath, stuttering out a small agreement. His fingers traced the edges of the fabric bodysuit you wore, sliding it further to one side to fully expose your cheek to him. The air was charged with electricity, the tightness waiting to break upon Mattheo’s movements, you held your breath in anticipation. 

He brought his hand down sharply, the sound echoing throughout the room. Out of instinct, your hips bucked in his lap, a mix of pain and pleasure flooding you.

“One.” you whispered, Mattheo let out a hum of approval.

His hand cracked down on you again, harder than the last time, the sting making you cry out.

“Two.” You whined, your voice growing more soft. His hand lightly caressed the skin he’d just smacked, the featherlight touches juxtaposed against the stinging skin. Three consecutive slaps met your ass, each one harder than the last, and you crying out to count out each one. The burn of the five spanks was intense, the throbbing ache lingering on your skin where it would likely remain for days after this.

“So good, Kitten. You’re halfway done.” Mattheo praised, his voice slightly breathless. He slid the bodysuit’s hem from your other cheek. A part of you was relieved that no more would come down on your already blushed cheek, another part of you was mortified at having both sides of your ass be a matching shade of red. 

You shifted in his lap, though the slight movement was enough to have you notice a familiar wetness building between your legs. You hung your face, cowering in embarrassment that you were starting to like this. 

A sharp whack rang throughout the room, his assault on the uncolored side of your ass beginning. 

“Six.” You huffed, breathing heavily as the impact of his hand seemed to cup the entire fleshy mound of your ass.

Another one. Another count from your breathy voice. 

 “You know,” He mused, the deep timbre of voice murmured, “You should have seen the looks you got. I think everyone’s eyes were on you, Kitten.”

Thwack.

“Eight.”

“You know, I think even Theo and Enzo were looking at you.”

Thwack.

“Nine!” You moaned, the wetness between your legs no longer a small growing amount but rather proudly collected in your sex that you felt with every movement and spank. You vaguely registered what he’d said, deciding to file it away for later, too caught up in the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Maybe I should call them in here, so they can see how well you take your punishment.”

Thwack! 

The final slap on your cheek leaving an exploding quake on the abused skin, your piercing shriek calling out the final number. Tears were welled up in your eyes in shame but drool pooled in your mouth from pleasure, you forced yourself to swallow before he could see. 

Mattheo scooped you up and let you lay on his bed. The soft sheets bringing no comfort to your stricken ass, your fingers lightly prodding the tender skin. You squirmed, your breath coming out in shaky gasps as you tried to soothe yourself from the rough and arousing treatment. 

“You did such a good job, Kitten.” Mattheo soothed, his hands softly stroking the fiery skin. “Would you like your reward now?”

You nodded, sitting up expectantly. Mattheo brought out his wand pointing it at your necklace, mumbling an incantation you didn’t recognize. When he finished he tossed his wand somewhere in his messy room. 

“Now you have fifteen minutes instead of five to come when I call you.”

Relief filled your chest, you fought the urge to hug him, instead choosing to smile softly. “Thanks.” You uttered, somehow this felt more intimate than what you’d been doing before, even though your ass was burning in protest. 

Mattheo pulled your face close, grasping your jaw in his hands that were inflicting stinging smacks on you just moments before. “Now go out there, with my marks on your body and remember that you’re mine. They can look all they want but every fucking inch of you belongs to me.” He growled, a devilish grin taking over his face as he drunk your flushed appearance. 

You’d nodded, wincing out the door with a stumbling walk, your mind far too drunk on Mattheo to pay any mind to the party still going on. Theo happened to be leaning against the wall near the stairs, his arms holding your robe which you gratefully accepted. He cast a knowing look your way but didn’t say anything further as he guided you to the exit.

“Goodnight piccola, I hope it was what you wanted.”

I don’t even know what I want anymore.

You brooded, waving goodbye at Theo and hobbling your weak legs up the stairs. Your ass rosy and ablaze with arousal dripping down your thighs.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

The Cursed Warlords Chapter #Nineteen – Hurt and Comfort

Of all the things you had to deal with on this journey, staying long enough to get your period once again was NOT apart of your plan!

It took the rest of that day to walk around the town. Spirit was firm in the fact that she didn’t want you to get involved with whoever was in the town. The monkey demon Mink had ran off so quickly you were unable to catch up with him even if you tried. So you continued your trip.

Wukong nuzzled your face happy with his win, having scared off the other demon. Though it wasn’t like Mink was trying to hurt you and was actually trying to help the warlords. But Wukong didn’t care, he tried to take him away from you! His precious darling, and for all he knew you could have gotten hurt before the curse would get broken!

‘You are an idiot,’ Macaque chirped with annoyance as je lounged on your other shoulder.

Wukong gawked at his mate in offence, ‘I am not! I protected our Reader!’ he explained rolling his eyes at his mate’s words.

‘Did you even think of the fact that we could have asked him to get Reader to bring us to Flower Fruit Mountain?’ Macaque responded with a groan.

Wukong opened his mouth to retort only to snap his mouth shut in shock. His brain fried for a second as he registered the fact that he just ruined their chance to break their curse sooner and get Reader to their home. Not to mention they could have found a way to get you to come to their home and you wouldn’t be able to leave without their say so.

‘Thought so,’ Macaque grumbled with an annoyed look on his face.

Though he hadn’t really helped the matter much. While Wukong was scaring off Mink he had let himself try and get your attention instead. The whole time he just wanted you to look at him instead of someone else, just like when he first met Wukong. Back when he had pined for Wukong, before they were mates and when he had to scare off the suitors who tried to get Wukong’s hand in marriage.

‘Macaque.’

His thoughts wondered back to those days, he could still feel the roaring jealousy that he felt back then. So many of Wukong’s suitors who died at his hand, he wasn’t even sure if his mate knew just how many. He purposefully didn’t tell him of the few that had been apart of the troop only to mysteriously disappear when they got too cozy with the single king.

‘Moon.’

Not that Wukong was any better. He knew how many people had died because someone said something bad about the ‘lone warrior,’ the ‘shadow’ of the king. Back when he first joined the troop after being a lone traveler for his whole life. Their screams were so lovely, whe didn’t mention how wonderful and horrible it made him feel. Wonderful because Wukong gave him attention before he proposed and horrible because at first Wukong saw them as friends and ‘sworn brothers,’ he rolled his eyes at the thought.

His mate had loved him just as much as he loved him ever since they met. He was just a dense idiot sometimes and didn’t realize it was romantic love rather than platonic. All he was at first was his ‘best bud’, well that changed when Macaque made the first move into courtship.

‘My Moon! Don’t ignore me! I said sorry,’ Wukong was all but crying at this point, his eyes wide with regret and fear for his life at the silence of his mate.

Macaque turned to look at him and rolled his eyes with a smirk. He didn’t respond only making Wukong even more silently hurt at the silence but he couldn’t do anything if he tried. Leaving you to calm the whiny monkey who was trying to get his mate’s attention.

>>>

The next few days were calm, they were peaceful and it was strange. Gentle breezes and a clear sky without a cloud in sight. Everything was easy for once, just you following Spirit’s lead towards your destination. However you didn’t expect this new road block to happen.

Sleeping in your under dress and using your outer hanfu as a pillow you woke up to something you didn’t want to deal with. You realized it in the early morning when you woke up with a painful cramp in your abdomen. Dread flooded through you as you gripped your stomach in pain. Your quiet groans caught the attention of Spirit who was already awake.

“You okay Reader?” She asked with a frown covering her lips.

“Uugh…. No,” you muttered trying to calm your cramps, it physically pained you knowing that you couldn’t have any ibuprofen or Advil, There was nothing to calm down the pain here.

You felt her hand press against your head and she frowned, you weren’t warm. You had plenty of sleep the last few days, she’s made sure you always had something to eat… Narrowing her eyes she gently shook your shoulder, hoping to get more information. She couldn’t help you if she didn’t know what was wrong, and she wanted to know what was going on before the cubs woke up. It was a miracle that they hadn’t woken up yet.

“What’s wrong?” She asked slowly.

You were about to respond when two small chirps turned your attention to them. A chirp from Peaches indicating he was awake and wanted food. That want for food was soon pushed back when he noticed you laying on the ground curled up in a fetal position. This wasn’t odd since you fell asleep in all kinds of positions but the look of pain on your face immediately had him chirping in worry.

“Shh Peaches. Reader I need you to tell me what’s wrong- do I smell blood?” That caught Plum’s attention. Now you were on the ground with three monkeys looking at you, chirping worriedly and asking for information, all while you were laying down and feeling mortified about the entire ordeal.

‘Blood!? Reader! Darling what happened!?’ Wukong chirped frantically his mate right at his side looking you over and sniffing your face.

“… It’s nothing,” You muttered in embarrassment.

“What? You’re bleeding,” Spirit bit back a slight growl bubbling up her through at the mere thought of it.

“I’m on my period. It’s not an external wound,” You grumbled before gently pushing the demoness away.

Said demoness gave you a blank look, blinking slowly at your words. She tilted her head in confusion, period? What was a period. She had never heard of such a thing, was it something that humans got? Was it a sickness!?

Wukong was no better, in fact he was still frantically looking you over in confusion. He had no idea what a period was, all he knew was that you were bleeding and you were in pain.

The only one of the three who was calm was Macaque. With his six ears he knew what a period was, his cheeks slightly flushed at the thoughts that flooded through his head. It was similar to a monkey demoness’s heat, at least from what he understood. The difference being was that demoness’ were most fertile during their heat while humans’ were most fertile right after their ‘periods.’ He was not going to disclose the delicious thoughts that flooded his mind, particularly the thought of you in their nest on Flower Fruit Mountain and beneath the two warlords.

“What the hell is a period?” Spirit asked, completely confused without a clue of what you were talking about.

You looked over your shoulder at her in shock. “A period, my menstrual cycle.”

Spirit stared back at you, tilting her head as she tried to figure out what you were talking about. Narrowing her eyes she asked, “You bleed? And it’s natural? How often does this happen?”

“Mmm… bout once a month, for a little less than a week,” You replied before groaning again, with all three monkeys gawking at you.

“You’re kidding! Why would you have to do that!? Are you sick!?” she asked nearly shouting in her shock.

You chuckled before grunting when the laugh hit your gut. “No. Women get it because it’s hoe their body handles their fertility… or something like that,” You e plainly vaguely not wanting to go in depth with it.

“Oh… So do you like… need rest?” Spirit asked unsure of what to do in this situation.

You nodded slightly curling up a little more, you tried to stretch a bit only for your gut to cramp even worse. Before you were able to curl up again, Plums pressed himself against your abdomen. You opened your mouth to say something but the words died in your throat, the heat of his body, and the slight pressure was nice. It was like a little heating pad.

“Hey get off of her. She said she was in pain,” Spirit growled at the white furred monkey.

Plums looked up at her blinking slowly before sticking his tongue out at her. Spirit’s fur puffed out as she growled and reached over you to grab the monkey.

“No. He’s fine,” You muttered tiredly and Spirit stopped her movement, a pout forming on her lips at your words. Regardless of her emotions she still nodded and left him alone.

Peaches chirped towards Plums before joining him in curling up with you, settling himself so he was comfy. His tail laying on top of Plums as he snuggled up to both of you.

“… Do you need something to eat?” Spirit asked from over your shoulder and you responded with a hum of agreement.

You didn’t look but you could hear her walking away from you. You wanted to say something, anything but couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but groan. Both monkeys that were curled up with you chirped sadly at your pain and you couldn’t help but lightly chuckle towards them.

You didn’t even realize you fell asleep until Spirit was shaking you awake with a bowl in her hand. Not questioning where she got or stored the object you accepted the vegetable stew, there was rice, carrots and some green beans. All together it was rather bland and definitely not something that you wanted to eat, but it was food and you really needed to eat.

“Thank you,” You mumbled, able to sit up now. Both cubs sat on your lap as you ate the soup that Spirit had made.

“I’m not a good cook… but it’s probably better than snacking on only fruit,” The monkey demoness explained, fidgeting with her clothes.

“Thank you, really. It could be worse, nothing is burnt and it’s fully cooked,” You replied with a light smile, all that you said was true, even if you were leaving out the part of no seasonings. You couldn’t blame her on that since you weren’t even sure where she would be able to get any seasonings anyway.

*CHIRP! CHIRP!*

You turned your gaze to the two monkeys on your lap, both with pouts on their faces. They were offended that you were thanking Spirit, thanking her without even acknowledging them! They were your future mates! And you were talking to her more than them!? Chirping again they waited for a response, and you delivered! Gently patting their heads and scratching them as you spoke. “Thank you two for your help too,” You chuckled as they purred.

Spirit rolled her eyes, “Oh please they didn’t even do anything.”

“… Are you jealous of cubs?” You asked and watched as Spirit’s whole face turned bright red, her mask turning a shade of purple from the fluster that covered her face. Both cubs laughed at her expression with smug looks on their faces.

“What!? No! As if I’d be jealous over two brats!” she growled, turning her back on you with a huff much to your amusement.

Both cubs chittered and laughed as Spirit fumed next to you. It was honestly adorable. You laughed before letting out another grunt as another cramp hit you. Spirit whirled around so fast you didn’t even see her move, as she came face to face with you.

Staring at you for a solid minute she finally sighed and muttered, “We’re not going anywhere for a while are we?”

“What? No we could- ugh… okay probably not,” You grumbled.

‘It’s okay love! Rest, we’ll travel later,’ Macaque chirped, he knew you couldn’t understand but wanted you to rest.

Spirit ignored the monkey cub and took a different approach. She yawned, and stretched her arms before plopping behind you. Her hands gently combing through your hair, gently massaging your head. Your eyes drooped as she scratched your scalp.

Laying back against her you laid your head in front of her crossed legs. A yawns escaped your lips and quiet chirps left the two cubs as they snuggled back up on your abdomen with a welcome warmth and slight pressure just enough to feel comfortable. That wasn’t even mentioning the gentle, cool hands that combed through your hair over and over in a calming and sleep inducing way.

It kind of reminded you of the way your mother used to comb through your hair. Cheerful memories filled your head, now bittersweet as you’re unable to see your family. Your heart clenched in pain as you wished and prayed that they were safe and well during your absence.

Once again you fell asleep, not noticing the way that Spirit curled up beside you and let herself also fall asleep. If you weren’t going anywhere any time soon then she might as well take advantage of the time and sleep.

Wukong glanced at Spirit with a slight scowl, he didn’t want to admit it, but he was jealous of the small demoness. She was protective and while not nearly as strong as The Monkey Kings, she had her own strengths. She protected you when he and his mate couldn’t and if it weren’t for her you would likely starve, get killed, eaten or worse. He hated to admit it but she did deserve a place in his troop… she would definitely help you join the troop easier with a familiar face.

Wukong wasn’t stupid, he knew that he was going to need to get you used to him and Macaque when he finally brought you home. To your new home with him, Macaque and the rest of his troop on Flower Fruit Mountain.

‘She’s going to make our perfect Queen~,’ Wukong chirped with a smile and Macaque chuckled, his tail lightly slapping his mate in a teasing manner. ‘You speak the obvious my love~.’

Wukong laughed, ‘I only speak the truth~ She is our perfect Queen just as you are my perfect King~’

<<< Chapter #Eighteen - The Monkey Demon

[dangraccoon]

Untitled Spreadsheet - PRIVATE

Chapter 2 - Touch

Word Count: 352

Content: Gay disaster Cody, Rex is so over this whole thing

For @literallyjustanerd, based on this post

Mando'a Guide Ori'vod (orivod as Rex typed) - older sibling

Cody’s alarm went off at what could be considered an unholy hour of the night. It didn’t bother him though; in fact, he’d already been awake for nearly an hour with a nervous energy buzzing through his bones. 

He straightened his armor and back and began the walk through the camp to where the General would be for his watch shift. 

It wasn’t exactly customary that a High General (or a Marshal Commander, for that matter) would take regular watch shifts, but General Kenobi had insisted, so Cody added both of their names to the circulation. 

A part of his brain - that Cody swears is purely professional and comes from striving for efficiency and no other reason - longs for a chance to spend a watch shift with the General instead of one of them relieving the other. 

He physically shook the thought off, turning the last corner of the paths through the camp that would bring him face-to-face with his General.

“General Kenobi, sir,” Cody rapped out. “I’m here to relieve you from duty.”

“Hello, Commander,” Kenobi smiled. His expression was warm but tired. The light from the nearby campfire lit his auburn hair, causing it to nearly glow a gloriously vivid red. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Cody didn’t think his body could feel more rigid when he was already at attention. “Sir?”

“At ease, Cody; you know better,” the General chuckled softly. “Thank you for taking my place; it’s been a long night.” 

Suddenly, Cody felt as though his shoulder was on fire, but not unpleasantly. He came to realize it was because the General was touching his shoulder. Time stood still in Cody’s mind. He longed for a way he could return the simple gesture. At the moment, however, the professional part of his brain was more fried than a B1 after a droid popper. 

“Commander, are you alright?” Kenobi’s voice brought him back to the present. 

“Yes, sir,” he blurted. “My apologies, sir.”

“That’s alright,” the General smiled. It was such a lovely smile. “I’ll be heading to my quarters should you need anything.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Rex: so he just touched your shoulder

Cody: Yes.

Rex: orivod really

Cody: It was for quite a long time.

Rex: how long

Cody: Is “not long enough” something I can say?

Rex: do you want me to get echo to read off the regs to you

Rex: because im sure hes more than willing 

Rex: and fives will think its funny

Cody: You can’t tell anyone about this, Rex. 

Rex: relax codes it was a joke

Cody: This is not funny!

Rex: wanna bet

Event: Touched my shoulder for an amount of time that could be perceived as being too long to be professional when I relieved him of his night watch

Rational explanation: General Kenobi was tired or distracted and didn’t realise what he was doing. Alternatively, I myself was distracted by the physical contact and the moment did not last as long as I believed it to

Irrational explanation: He wants to touch me because he’s attracted to me because he has feelings for me

Additional notes: The General’s hair is an especially vivid red when lit by firelight

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Thanks for reading! - River

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[the-mpreg-guy]

You've probably answered this like a thousand times but my brain is fried honestly and I love love love your opinions and takes so sorry but you'll have to deal with my annoying ass haha

I'd like to know if you have any recs for post canon fics (fix-its of sorts) with Cas coming back and there's lots of angst until they get together? Preferably explicit tbh

And if you have favorite Cas uses his grace during sex with Dean / wink kink fics

I think I have a couple you might like! Throwing them all under the cut because it got longer than I intended.

Post Canon Fix-Its

The Soul Burns Brighter Than the Sun

S16 multichapter fic, complete with soul bonding, explicit sex, Dean and Cas being codependent as hell, lone wolf Cas, depressed, suicidal Dean, and the return of basically every single villain on the show. I cannot recommend this fic enough to ppl who are looking for closure after the final.

Truth & despair

Also a s16 multichapter fic. Follows Sam POV as he navigates post-canon therapy, finding out that Destiel is a Thing, and being so very canon accurate that it makes my stomach hurt. Last chapter is Dean POV with grace/soul bonding shenanigans. No explicit sex, but I'm pretty sure Dean and Cas's souls maybe banged somewhere in there.

Redux

Completely canon compliant s16 multichapter fic. Dean and Sam get resurrected for one last case. Perfect balance of plotty and character introspection. Bela also makes a cameo which is reason enough to read this fic.

A Long Road Back

Dean and Claire bonding after Cas dies, Dean looking after an empty inn, longing, pining, softness, and eventual reunion.

miracles' verse

Post-canon oneshot series with disabled Dean, therapy dog Miracle, gender moments, and all around fluff.

all the things yet to come are the things that have passed

Post canon Destiel reunion oneshot where Dean is waiting for Jack to rescue Cas and spends a lot of his time praying. Incredibly soft.

If You Choose to Live, Turn to Page 52

Dean doesn't die on a nail, and Cas visits him in the hospital. They have an old married couple argument about everything.

the space between never and again

Destiel reunion, they get married in a parking lot.

in addition;

Post canon Destiel + Saileen roadtrip with Jack along for the ride. SO FUNNY AND SOFT.

six hundred sundays (and many more)

Castiel is starting to suspect Dean fell in love with him a few Sundays ago. Cas is DUMB.

In Place

Post canon Destiel get into an argument after a case over who's allowed to sacrifice themselves. Explicit sex, d/s, and some fun grace stuff.

Kingdom Come

Cas gets kicked out of the Empty as a human. He and Dean have sex about it.

there is rest for the wicked

Dean won't stop taking naps, Cas is soft about it, and somewhere in there a love confession happens.

anamnesis 'verse

Four part series wherein Dean and Sam break free from Chuck's control, Cas becomes the new death, and Destiel becomes canon.

What The Moon Was Saying

Dean does Orpheus.

Soul Grace/Wing Kink

(See above rec list for A Soul Burns Brighter Than the Sun for more grace/wing smutfic)

everyone knows the year doesn't start until april

Non explicit soul grace fic that's juuust almost kinky about it.

terror & desire intertwined

Castiel possesses Dean to get out of the Empty. Insane grace sex fic paired with introspection and Destiel post-canon reunion.

I CARRY YOUR HEART (I CARRY IT IN MY HEART)

Another Castiel possesses Dean fanfic, but with a little bit less soul/grace sex and not post canon. It's still a fantastic read and DOES have Dean unpacking his feelings about having Cas inside him always.

sweeter coming from my hand

The Mark of Cain is killing Dean. Castiel is dying from lack of grace. Solution? Soul/Grace marriage. Also they fuck about it.

Grooming Instincts

Dean decides to help Cas groom his wings. Dean did NOT know that was a sex thing.

Any Pacifier Will Do

Demon Dean being halfway cured by angelic grace cockwarming. Straight up pwp fun.

Revealed

Dean is the one who ends up with wings this time around, and he and Castiel angel mate about it.

Nothing Equals the Splendor

Dean dying was just a Djinn trick, Castiel shows up and blows his back out, and there are wings and billions of eyes involved.

Coals Aglow

Dean and Cas fuck in the apocalypse world, there's angelic grace, d/s dynamics, and Cas being a clever bastard.

[balloonthehutt]

Chapter One

summary: jack visits halley in the lab.

warnings: none, a little bit of fluff, angst, some nerd stuff.

pairing: jack daniels x fem!oc

The walls didn’t feel so cold when he moved through them with no expectations on his shoulders—nothing to prove, nowhere to be. They had reduced him to a lower-rank agent, giving him just enough freedom to walk around but not enough to make him feel like he belonged. He didn’t.

Jack had grown accustomed to walking these sterile hallways with the quiet shuffle of a man who no longer had the right to command attention. He wasn’t part of the higher ranks anymore. He wasn’t part of anything.

But there was one place he could go.

The lab.

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he felt drawn to it. Maybe it was the constant hum of machines and the quiet rhythm of Halley’s presence, always moving—tinkering with her screens, surrounded by her inventions, her delicate genius. Something about her steadiness pulled at him, a curiosity he couldn’t quite explain.

No one had told him to avoid her; no one had told him he could not visit. But it still felt like an unspoken rule. The others—his colleagues, the ones who were still allowed to stand tall with their badges—had forgotten about him. They probably wouldn’t even notice if he slipped away to see her.

Jack found the door to the lab almost without thinking, his boots quiet against the floor as he approached. It was like the whole building held its breath as he stood there for a moment, the weight of his own uncertainty pressing down on him, but there was something else. A feeling he hadn’t quite allowed himself to name since… well, since the whole damn mess started.

He pushed open the door slowly, careful not to make a sound.

But the soft click of the door latch was enough to make Halley look up from her work, and her sharp intake of breath was the only warning he got before she turned around, catching him in the act.

“Jack!” she exclaimed, her voice a little sharper than usual. “What are you doing? Sneaking up like that?”

“Don’t mean no harm, darlin’. Just… wanted to see what you’re up to.”

"You can't come here whenever you want. What if someone catches you?"

"I have access to the lab, darlin'" he gently explained, putting his hands into the pockets of his Wrangler jeans. “Besides, why do you care if someone sees me here?"

Her cheeks started to burn.

"I-" she trailed off, her shoulders slowly dropping. “I don't want you to get in trouble."

“Trouble s' my middle name, you should know that by now." he scoffed, taking a look around then at the screen in front of her. “What's that?"

He pointed to the hologram. Halley did a little spin in her chair.

"I’ve been optimizing Tadashi’s neural processing capabilities by integrating a self-adaptive quantum matrix into his existing framework. It allows for exponential scalability in decision-making pathways without compromising efficiency."

Jack blinked. Slowly.

He had faced down armed mercenaries, taken hits that would’ve laid out lesser men, and survived betrayals that should have killed him. But this?

This was the kind of thing that damn near fried his brain.

He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest as he squinted at the screen, as if staring at it long enough would somehow make the words make sense. “Now, sweetheart, I reckon you just spoke more words in one sentence than I’ve understood all week.”

She paused, then glanced at him, noticing the slight furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened just a little. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and she leaned back.

“Let’s put it this way.” She turned toward him fully now, resting her elbow on the desk. “Tadashi is an AI, right? A learning program. But right now, he can only improve himself in ways that I specifically program him to. What I’m doing is giving him the ability to adjust his own learning methods in real-time, without me having to tell him how.”

Jack’s brow lifted slightly. “So you’re teachin’ your little computer fella how to… think on his own?”

“Pretty much.”

“Huh.” He let out a low hum. “That ain’t gonna lead to a Terminator situation, is it?”

Halley laughed, shaking her head. “No killer robots. Promise.”

He exhaled, pretending to wipe his brow. “Well, that’s a relief. Ain’t exactly in shape to be fightin’ machines right now.”

She chuckled, then studied him for a moment, noticing the way his shoulders had relaxed just a little, the weight in his eyes not quite as heavy as before.

She liked seeing that, even if it was fleeting.

“Agent Morgan,” Tadashi’s voice rang out, smooth and precise. “Champagne is asking for your presence in the conference hall.”

Halley sighed, already reaching for the tablet beside her. “I’m on it. Thank you, Dash.” She turned to Jack, pushing her chair back slightly. “I’m sorry to leave you, but—”

Jack shook his head before she could finish. “Don’t mind me, darlin’. I wasted enough of your time. Go see what the old man wants.”

The words weren’t harsh, weren’t bitter. But they were said in that same tired, hollow way she had come to recognize—the voice of a man who didn’t think he was worth sticking around for.

Something in her chest twisted.

He wasn’t trying to push her away, not in an aggressive way. But he believed what he was saying. He genuinely thought he was wasting her time, as if his presence in this lab, in her life, had no value at all.

Halley hesitated, gripping the edge of her desk. She wanted to tell him he was wrong. That she wanted him here, that he wasn’t some burden she had to bear. But she knew Jack—knew he wouldn’t take words like that seriously. Not right now when the wounds were still fresh.

Instead, she kept her voice soft. “You didn’t waste my time, Jack.”

He glanced at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ain’t gotta sugarcoat things for me, sweetheart.”

“I’m not.” She held his gaze, willing him to see the truth in her eyes. “You never do.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt heavier, not with tension, but with a quiet understanding.

Then, Halley sighed and grabbed her tablet, moving toward the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said, pausing just long enough to look over her shoulder at him. “Don’t disappear on me, alright?”

He huffed out a breath, tipping his hat slightly. “No promises.”

Halley shook her head with a small smile, then slipped out the door.

And Jack? He sat there a moment longer, staring at the empty space she had left behind, wondering why in the hell it suddenly felt a little colder without her there.

chapter two

[rokishimizu4]

Harley (Fucken) Quinn’s girls’ night out!

(I love Harley to the moon and back! But I have a special chapter for her when my story comes out, that I refuse to spoil!)

When Selina called her to inform her that Wonder Woman would be joining them, which she then had inform Dinah and Ivy, she was both super excited and nervous. (Since she used to have a big lesbian crush on Wonder Woman)

It took less time for Selina and Diana to show up than it took for Harley to set out more booze and order another batch of junk food. But before she could say something stupid, Ivy stepped in and got everyone settled down

”Pardon the intrusion, but Cat Woman informed me of a party only for the females and I wished to invite myself to partake in the festivities.” Diana explains as she finishes dragging Selina into Harley, and sometimes Ivy’s when they weren’t arguing over Harley being a sometimes hero, and towards the beanbags.

”No problem girly! The more, the merrier!” Harley returns the joy, pleased with herself when she didn’t stutter like a school girl.

”Honestly, I was hoping that Diana would be joining us, Ollie was telling me about the strangest kidnapping attempt just a few days ago. I’m kind of disappointed that I missed it.” Dinah chuckles as she picks up her wine glass and takes a sip of the dark red liquid.

”Oh yeah! Something about an attempted poisoning and a drug dealer getting her shit rocked by a thing of goop!” Harley adds, as she seen the thing on the news and became interested when she learned that the woman was actually attempting to the sell the kids to some couple at the gala, at least according to theories from certain rouges.

”Yes, speaking of that incident, Diana has some questions for you darling.” Selina gets straight to the point as she pours herself a tall glass of red wine and drowns it, knowing that she might as well be tipsy for this.

Harley stuffs a thing of nachos in her mouth, before turning to Diana (who was also devouring a whole box of Meat lovers Pizza and drinking from a can of cheap beer, as if she hasn’t eaten anything all day) and giving a her a look.

”Excuse me, it has been quite a week of searching for any leads to the mysterious child of goop and the warriors that follow it. It also takes a lot of energy to contact the Olympians to seek guidance and wisdom.” She excuses herself as she takes the napkin offered to her, and wipes the grease and crumbs off of her lips and hands.

”I was hoping to seek your wisdom Dr. Quinzel, as a woman trained in the mind.”

Harley blinks, and blinks once more before she realizes that Wonder Woman, The Wonder Woman, was asking for her professional help as a psychiatrist. ‘This is the best night of my life.’

”Hold up, I got to get my professional glasses on! And my notebook!”

Cue Selina, Dinah, Ivy, and a slightly drunk Nora Fries, clinging to the sides of walls, furniture, and other objects to get out of Dr. Quinzel’s way (Not wanting to be ran over or be dragged into a therapy session.)

Ivy and Selina grab and moves the table of food closer to their side of the living room/Kitchen area, as soon as Harley comes back in with her glasses on, her blonde (with some reds and blues dyed in) tied up in a ponytail, comfy pjs on, and a huge notebook in hand.

”Sorry that we can’t do this in a more professional setting, but I know that these girls can keep a secret. Well as long as it doesn’t bring harm to Nora and Selina, or Ivy.”

”Yes, I believe that the women you surround yourself with are trustworthy friends, and the advice I seek might benefit them as well. As I believe it is best to get more opinions into the matter at hand.”

Diana then goes onto to explain the warning her mother gave her and what her and the JL have been experiencing for the past few months: From the strange message on a copper spider to Luther asking the JL for safety for himself and his personal staff.

Cue a mix of fierce determination, fear, and just WTF that sparks a realization in Harley’s PHD brain.

Cue her spending the rest of the night creating a timeline, including the information that Nora gave her in a private session (aka weird people asking about Dr. Fries experiments and his knowledge on Cryogenic technology, and how long someone could last inside a Cryotube), which she made sure to keep private.

It takes a few more rounds of drinks and food before the rest of the ladies pass out (from the alcohol or exhaustion, she didn’t question it) and for Harley to set up a private meeting with the Riddler and Scarecrow (both who were still in Gotham Asylum for….reasons).

Harley checks her notebook one more time, before she carefully puts into her bulletproof, lock breaking proof, explosion proof, safe and locks it up for tomorrow afternoon, before taking a double shot of straight vodka.

’Life was soooo much easier as a supervillain. But, being under John Doe’s thumb was a lot worse.’

[angeliqueiguess]

“Focus!” (j.jh)

015. contract? warnings: swearing, kind of short (srry in advance, studying gives me writers block)

Friday was dragging on, and for Y/n, every second felt like torture. She walked through the hallways of the building with Ten, venting her frustrations. ''Seriously, I run into him everywhere'' said Y/n, tossing him a knowing look.

''You’ve gotta stop giving it so much importance. How many times have I told you that? You still haven’t learned, have you?''

''Yeah, yeah, I know...'' Y/n groaned. ''But every time he walks past me, he huffs like I'm bothering him just by existing. And, I swear, it makes me wanna spin his head like in The Exorcist.'' She said it so deadpan that Ten burst out laughing.

''Sorry! It’s just... you said it with such a straight face, I couldn’t help it.''

''Alright, enough'' she muttered, rolling her eyes ''I just don’t get why he’s wandering around the building all the time. The only thing he needs to do is show up for the photos and leave. That’s literally it.''

They kept walking until they reached their office. Y/n stopped and turned to Ten. ''Oh, and remember, Ash is coming in...'' she checked her watch. ''In about two hours. We need everything set up by then so we can go over the plan, mkay?''

''Yes, ma’am.'' Ten straightened up with an exaggerated salute, making her snicker. She reached for the doorknob, but the door wouldn’t budge.

''Ugh, this fucking lock! I swear it’s out to get me'' she grumbled, twisting and pulling the handle to no avail ''No... not again.''

After a bit of struggling, the door finally clicked open.

''Okay, seriously, I need to get this shit fixed...'' she muttered with a half-smile. But before she could say anything else, a familiar voice cut through the moment.

''Yeah, you should fix it. Don’t you think?'' Y/n froze on the spot. Standing right in front of her was Jaehyun, calm as ever. He looked at her briefly, then added, almost casually: ''And, by the way... in case you didn’t know, Im kinda sealing a deal with your brother, that's why im roaming aroung as you say.''

Without waiting for a response, Jaehyun turned and walked off, leaving Y/n and Ten standing there, too stunned to speak. After a beat, Ten turned to her ''Girl... we’re so fucked.''

Ten opened the door and found Y/n looking at him with eager anticipation. She hurried inside.

''Come on, spill the tea!'' Y/n said, grabbing Ten by the shoulders and lowering her voice since there were staff members wandering around.

''I overheard Ash and Jaehyun talking'' he paused, and Y/n raised an eyebrow ''Ash was laughing about something Jaehyun said, and it was loud enough that I thought everyone in the building would hear'' Ten continued, waving to a passing staff member.

''And then what?'' Y/n asked, clearly interested.

''Then Jaehyun hugged her, like, by the shoulders and whispered something in her ear, but I couldn’t catch it'' Ten said, mimicking the scene, which made Y/n frown. ''And that was it.''

''Seriously, Ten, if you were sent to rob a house, you’d probably knock on the door first'' Y/n joked, smacking her forehead in mock frustration.

''What do you want me to do? I can’t just creep around and spy on them!'' Ten protested, but before Y/n could respond, someone called out.

''Hey! Y/n, how have you been? Long time, no see!'' It was Ash, who rushed over and pulled Y/n into a tight hug. Y/n felt a bit awkward at Ash's enthusiastic greeting because she was really calm and collected, y/n hugged her back, stealing a glance at Ten, who looked just as baffled. Ash pulled away and grabbed Y/n’s hands. ''I’m so excited to work with you again!'' she exclaimed, and without waiting for a reply, turned and dashed off, leaving Y/n with a mix of confusion and amusement.

''What the fuck'' mouthed Y/n looking at Ten who had the same confused expression.

---

prev//next masterlist.

Angie's note: sorry in advance for this shitty chapter (my brain is fried from studying) hope you liked it and dw, i'll update again in a few hours <3 love u! don't forget to take care of yourselves and drink tons of water <3<3

Taglist: @apolloxxivmin @milanco @sibwol @neocupidd @minkyuncutie @miniature-tragedy @tenjyucat @aerivrs @chan-yeoldelling @cryingforjae @kukkurookkoo @kodasity @injunnie-lemon @thegracerammy @livingdoll-hara

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ epilogue

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: FLUFF chapter map

Author's Note: I just want to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who followed along and supported this story! Girl Genius @scarlettspectra who helped me with the original idea, my utterly beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff , the SWEETEST @sweetwolfcupcake (who fried my brain with that gif of Paul, thank u! 😘 , the always RAZOR sharp @discoscoob, the hilarious @lilithlinen , the insightful @reallongwire , emoji queen @thesecretlifeofmo , 🖤 @lonelyspadez and SO many others, I wouldn't have finished this without you, it wouldn't have been as much fun, and it CERTAINLY wouldn't be the fic it is without your amazing input!

-You’re going to have to rewrite the train station scene in your story, because you take him with you at the platform, and you are smart enough not to let go. 

At first, you stay together in your tiny apartment with its fetching view of a brick wall. The arrangement was fine, if not a little cramped. You spend most of your time in bed, anyway, but you find you don’t mind sharing your space with Paul, or your cooking, or your time. Goddammit if Anjelica wasn’t right about that. 

But maybe he knows you better than you know yourself. 

Without you needing to ask, [and you’re not sure you even would have, truth be told], he eventually gets his own place. Yet, you are still inseparable, barring the hours you go to work, and he goes to school. 

You find that you are equally happy to have your own space back, yet unbearably restless for the next time you will get to see him. It is a strange medley to balance in your life, and a part of you hopes that someday maybe you really will score that apartment with enough room for the two of you, and a typewriter overlooking the Bay. 

On the odd days you do not see each other, he writes you a letter, and you always write him back. 

As it turns out, Paul Sutton likes things that go, and he enrolls to study engines at a technical college in San Francisco. 

The day he roars up to your apartment in a leather jacket on a Norton motorcycle with a big grin, you cannot help but laugh. It seems like a ridiculous machine, and yet after the first time he takes you for a ride–it becomes one of your favorite things to do with him. You tear up and down the coast in your free time, picnicking at the beach or beneath towering sequoia trees. 

You have both healed from your misadventure, withstanding the occasional cough, or the odd nightmare...on a whole, your life together is so sweet, and the irony does not escape you that on more than one occasion you have to restrain yourself from asking him to marry you. But Paul is starting to find himself, given time in which he’s not running between raindrops, enemy fire, or immediately jumping into the responsibility of supporting a wife and children. 

He does not always take you on his motorcycle trips, often going on long rides to clear his head. He says it helps ease his mind, when his memories from the war become too loud in his head.

Most of the time though, he seems content, and you are so happy for that. 

-The first time after he dropped into your office at the publishing house to bring you flowers, just because, bless that man, your boss asks, “So that’s Peter?” 

“No, that’s Paul,” you tease him, aware that your beau’s good looks have a certain effect upon both sexes, no matter their preferences. 

You’d let your superior read your manuscript of your book, after catching you working on it at your desk during a break. You decided to title it, “A Walk in the Clouds.”  You’re not getting your hopes up, as he hems and haws over it. He keeps proposing changes to the story that would be untenable to you, as well as writing under a man’s pen name, or a less Spanish-sounding surname, in the interest of appealing to a broader audience. Maybe someday, you’ll find an agent who will champion your vision, and a publisher who won’t hold it against you that you are an intelligent self-taught Hispanic woman with opinions that challenge the conformity of post-War America.  

Maybe someday, things will be better…

Until then, you’ll just have to keep writing. 

-A year later, the two of you are out to lunch at a North Beach café, when a slick-looking man in a dapper suit passes by your table, then does a double-take at Paul, who was engaged mid-bite with his open mouth over a fork full of pasta. 

“Hey kid,” he says. “Ever thought of being in movies?” 

Taken aback, Paul wipes his lips with his napkin, regarding the man quizzically. “Ah…no, never occurred to me,” he admits to the stranger with a quizzical lift of eyebrows. 

“You got the look. Call me.” The Hollywood man flips a card onto the table, then strolls off like he has somewhere important to be. 

Paul looks at you, then laughs, shaking his head as he looks at the card. He is so humble about his dashing good looks, finding it embarrassing when women slow down to ogle him on the street, (or in one amusing case–to you at least– trip over the sidewalk). 

“How silly,” he says with a little smile, tearing off a piece of bread. He’s playing it down, but you think you see a glitter of intrigue in those polished ebony eyes.

You shrug. “Who knows?” you say playfully. “You’re certainly the best-looking man I know.” 

After all this time, his cheeks still pink for you, his ears turning red at the tips. 

“Well, that’s all that matters to me,” he tells you, reaching across the table for your hand. You slide your fingers into his, so happy you could die. 

Afterwards you go for a stroll, hand in hand, looking in the windows of the shops and laughing together, your head on his shoulder.

It’s hard to imagine that life could get much sweeter than this. Deep down, a tiny, selfish part of you hopes he doesn’t call that Hollywood headhunter. How drastically would your life with him change, if he became a star on the silver screen?

That’s when you know you absolutely believe he’s got what it takes–and you beat back your ugly little fears, resolving that you won’t stand in his way, if he wants to try for it.

You realize you’re squeezing his hand too hard when he looks down at you with a question in his eyes. “Sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head for a kiss. 

He grants your request, and his soft lips on yours still curl your toes. He rests his forehead against yours with that little smile, just for you…and your fears go quiet, replaced by the soft glow this man always inspires in you. 

“Just in case you didn’t know…I would marry you in a heartbeat, if you ever change your mind about all that.” 

You blink, your heart a sparkling firework trapped in your chest. 

You have to try twice before you can find your voice. 

“I think…I would like that, Paul Sutton.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs out loud, that beautiful sound that fuels you as surely as food or drink or air. He picks you up right in the middle of the sidewalk, spinning you around in a circle before his lips find yours again. 

Suddenly, you’re not worried about anything.

-Paul drops you off at your apartment after a lingering kiss before rumbling off on the Norton. He has to study up for a test on Monday, and you’ve found when you try to help him with his studies more often than not you just end up in bed together. 

There are worse things, but this is an important exam. You’re sure he’ll pass with flying colors, then you can reward him properly. 

You practically skip up the stairs, still giddy from earlier. Are you and Paul actually engaged? Promised to be engaged? Merely in talks? You’re not really sure, but it doesn’t matter. You’re together, and you feel like you have all the time in the world to figure it out. The whole country is in such a hurry now that the war has ended, but the two of you have learned you don’t mind taking your time.  

You almost step on a little lump of something left before your door. Puzzled, you pick it up. It reminds you of the handmade little ragdolls you and your sisters used to play with, made of cloth and thread and horse hair.  

But this toy is burned, half her hair singed away, her blackened face pulled in a terrible grimace. 

With a frown you lay it back to rest on the floor beside your door. 

Maybe the neighbor’s girl down the hall dropped her toy. She might want it back. If it’s still there tomorrow…you’ll throw it out. 

Your earlier elation dampered by a weird feeling weighing in your gut, you let yourself into your apartment, and go about the rest of your day. 

Yet as you sit down with your notebook and a cup of tea to warm the chill inside you, you cannot stop thinking about it. 

There’s no way in Hell that terrible man survived that fire… 

Is there? 

The End…

Or is it?👀

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Sixteen

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, drug use (weed), mentions of drugs (cocaine, weed), suggestive, NOT PROOFREAD!! word count: 4.8k a/n: dramaaaaaaaaa. i was really on a roll with this chapter it’s so long LMAO

pov: layla

"You doing anything after school?" Matt asked me as he stole some of Nick's fries, causing his brother to hit him on the arm and I shook my head.

"No, but you are," I pointed out and he furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, "Training, Matthew."

"How did you forget you have training when you have been playing hockey for the last 5 years but she remembered?" Nate chuckled in disbelief from across the table and Matt shrugged.

"Oh Layls!" Allie chirped up from beside me, interrupting her own conversation with Mia who was sitting on her right, "Do you have a dress for prom yet?"

"Uh, I'm probably not going," I told her honestly and her face dropped sadly.

"What? Why not?" she asked, disappointment clearly in her tone and I shrugged.

"It's just not my thing," I answered honestly and she pouted slightly.

"Come on, it will be so fun! I can help you pick out a dress and everything," she pleaded with me and I gave her an apologetic look.

"She doesn't wanna go, Allie. Drop it," Mia grumbled from beside her, making my face drop at the rudeness of her tone.

"I'll think about it, okay?" I said kindly and her face lit up again before nodding, "Are all of you going?"

"Yeah," Chris nodded, clearly seeming unimpressed but agreed to go nonetheless, "No thanks to Al."

"You could've said no," Allie shrugged, smiling at him widely and he smiled, shaking his head and I leaned over, placing my hand under Allie's chin.

"How can you say no to this adorable face?" I asked sarcastically and Allie tapped my hand away lightly, a snicker falling out of her mouth.

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes playfully and Matt nudged my thigh with the back of his hand, making me look at him.

"You wanna come over after training?" he asked and I pursed my lips, giving him an apologetic look.

"I can't. Maybe tomorrow though," I told him and he nodded before turning his attention back to the group, "Nick, we still need to get our suits."

"I can't get mine till Allie tells me her fucking dress colour because we have to be matching," Chris chimed in again and I looked at Allie with raised eyebrows.

"You are going together?" I asked and she nodded happily.

"He said the only way he'd go to prom is if I agreed to go as his date that way he isn't stuck with anyone he doesn't like," she laughed and I smiled, nodding my head before I glanced at Chris.

"Matt," Mia chimed in catching not only Matt's attention but mine, "Remember your tie has to be red because my dress is red."

I felt a wave of jealousy pulse through me and I looked at the table before me. I had no right to be jealous, Matt and I weren't together in any capacity and he and Mia had been friends for years. It was just the fact it was Mia he was going with that pissed me off.

Of fucking course he's going to prom with Mia.

"Right," Matt nodded, seemingly ignoring Mia for the majority of the day. My brain had been wracking what they could've talked about to make him give her the cold shoulder like he was, I wanted to know if I caused it.

I didn't care about Mia but I knew Matt didn't want to lose her as a friend. So instead of starting an argument or causing a fight, I remained silent and chewed at my lip.

"Nick," Nate spoke up again catching Nick's attention and I pushed my food away from me, suddenly losing my appetite completely, "Are we matching too or what?"

"I thought you were going with Gemma?" Nick asked, clear confusion on his face and Nate shook his head, taking a sip of his water.

"Decided not to. Would rather be with you guys," he shrugged and Nick nodded in response.

"Why don't one of you take Layla?" Allie spoke up and I turned my head to look at her with a frown, "That way she also has a date because we can always bring someone else."

"Allie, I don't even know if I'm going yet," I responded and she shrugged, looking at me as she sipped on her iced tea.

"Just as a backup plan," she answered and I chuckled with a shake of my head.

"I was planning on bringing Jake since Nate said he was already going with Gemma," Nick answered honestly and Allie raised her hands triumphantly.

"Great! Nate, you can take Layla that way we all have a date!" Allie cheered and I looked at Nate, studying his reaction and he shrugged.

"I'm cool with that. Layls?" he asked, seemingly unbothered about whether or not he had a date.

"If I'm going, then sure," I shrugged in response and he nodded, taking another sip of his water.

"What colour dress are you thinking?" Allie asked, whipping her phone out of her pocket and I gave her a deadpanned look before her gaze met mine again, "In case you want to come! Nate is buying a suit regardless so might as well match it to a colour you like if you do come."

"Probably black," I shrugged, not wanting to argue with her and she nodded, tapping away on her phone.

"Makes my life easier," Nate shrugged, an amused smile on his lips and I smiled at him, both of us finding humour in the situation.

"What about this?" Allie leaned over, shoving her phone in front of my face catching me off guard as my eyes adjusted to the screen. It was a sparkly black strapless dress and I shrugged. I looked at the price and my eyes widened.

"Allie, I can't afford that," I answered quietly and she dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

"Don't worry about the price. I'm looking for dress styles you like," she answered quickly before tapping away on her phone again. Matt tapped my thigh once again before leaning over.

"Are you really gonna go with Nate?" he asked and I turned my head to look at him, a small expression that showed he was displeased written on his face.

"I don't know if I'm going at all yet. This is Allie's doing," I shrugged and he hummed, looking down at the table again making me smile as I leaned up to whisper in his ear, "Now who's jealous?"

"What about this one?" Allie once again leaned over, showing me a photo of a black halter neck dress that seemed to be a silk material. I shook my head knowing the shape of the dress would look awful on me, "Okay we need to figure out what kinda dresses you like."

"I don't wear dresses Allie," I gave her a half smile as Matt wrapped his arm around my shoulders and she nodded.

"Even more of a reason to find a dress you actually like," she announced as she went back to her phone making me smile in amusement.

"You could just not wear anything," Matt whispered into my ear and I punched his thigh making him groan.

"Don't be such a guy," I rolled my eyes, a smile still on my lips as I looked up at him. He shook his head, a slight smirk on his lips. He placed a kiss on the side of my temple.

"What's going on here?" Nate asked causing us to turn our heads to look at him.

"Oh, Matt didn't tell you guys?" Chris asked, a malicious smirk on his face and I let my smile drop.

"Chris," Matt said in a warning tone but Chris, as per usual, didn't listen.

"They fucked last night," Chris said casually and I threw my hands to my face, my cheeks lighting up red.

"What?" Allie gasped next to me and I didn't dare take my hands away from my face.

"For fucks sake Chris, don't say that! We didn't!" Matt protested and I curled closer to him, the embarrassment making me hide like a child.

"So you didn't sleep there last night?" Chris retorted and Matt sighed, running a comforting thumb up and down my arm.

"Yes, I stayed there bu-"

"And you said that you did stuff," Chris taunted further and I sighed, not wanting to look at the judgment on their faces yet.

"Chris, shut the fuck up," Matt mumbled through gritted teeth and I finally pulled my hands away from my face. Nate's face just looked surprised and Allie looked somewhat happy but Mia had the biggest scowl on her face I'd ever seen.

"Are you fucking serious?" Mia screeched causing Matt to whip his head to look at her, "You had sex with her?"

"I didn't!" Matt said in the same tone and I closed my eyes, heads turning to look at us from all around the cafeteria.

"And I'm supposed to believe that? Look at you!" she replied loudly motioning between us and I looked at Allie who was frowning at Mia.

"Mia, calm down. It's not the end of the world," Nate raised his eyebrows at her and she scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"I guess whoever wrote that shit on your locker was right. You are a slut," Mia mumbled so quietly I almost didn't catch it but when I did, my blood ran cold with nothing but rage.

"Mia, what the fuck?" Allie said in disbelief of her best friend saying such a crude thing.

I took a moment to think whether or not it was worth it to fight her and get myself expelled. I had been trying so hard to keep up with school and I wasn't going to throw it away for her.

So instead, my mind travelled back to when I saw the locker and looked around the room. I never once saw Mia and I know Matt had gotten rid of it by the time I went back to get my things for English.

"Hey, Mia?" I said, grabbing her attention and she looked at me with annoyed eyes, "How do you know what was written on my locker?"

"I saw it," she squinted her eyes at me and I nodded, leaning forward so Matt's arm slid off of my shoulders, now wrapped around my lower back.

"When did you see it exactly? Because I didn't see you anywhere when I first walked into the school," I raised my eyebrows and she stilled for a moment, "Did you guys see her when I went to the bathroom?"

I looked around the table and everyone shook their heads before I looked back at Mia who grumbled, "I saw it before you guys got there."

"Why were you there before us? You never come to school early," I pointed out and she once again stilled, her pissed demeanour turning nervous as she glanced between everyone.

"I had to do some stuff for cheer," she shrugged, trying to play it off and before I could speak again, Allie interrupted me.

"Practice isn't till after school. No one ever comes to school early for cheer, Mia," Allie deadpanned, calling her own best friend out and Mia shook her head.

"What are you trying to say? That I did it?" she asked, placing a hurt hand on her heart.

"Nope. You made that connection on your own," I told her, not letting my rage shine through at her as the guys just looked between us like a tennis match with slack jaws, "It's a funny coincidence though, isn't it? The one time you were at school early there's shit written on my locker."

"I didn't do anything!" she huffed and I hummed, nodding my head once again as I smiled at her sweetly.

"For the record, Mia, Matt and I didn't sleep together. In fact, the people that I'm rumoured to sleep with I never have. I can't say the same about you," I shoved away from the table, picked my bag up from the floor and walked out of the cafeteria without another word.

"Mia, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I heard Matt's voice yell at her as I walked out of the cafeteria doors and towards the exit of the school. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, sending Matt a quick text to say I wouldn't be at school for the rest of the day before I exited the grounds, beginning my trek home.

+++

After messaging Wes and telling him I was going to deliver for him earlier than originally planned, he agreed it was a good idea and invited me to stay for a bit.

"Why does it look like someone shit in your breakfast?" he asked as soon as he opened the old green apartment door, paint falling off at various places.

"Just had a shit day," I shook my head, stepping inside the small compound before I closed and locked the door behind me, "You wanted two ounces, right?"

"Yeah. You got the coke too?" he asked and I nodded, picking up the two ounces of weed out of my bag and throwing it on his kitchen counter before I pulled out the small bag of coke.

"He only had an 8-ball but I can get you more next week," I told him honestly and he nodded, counting up the cash before handing it to me and I placed it in my bag. I went to turn around and exit the building again but I was stopped.

"Where you goin'?" he asked and I spun around, looking at his long mop of blonde hair, "You look like you had a stressful day, babe. Chill with me for a bit."

"I don't know Wes," I trailed off, not knowing if I wanted to hang around here for too long.

"Come on. I got this new shit from Chase. It will make you see God," he said, holding up a small bag of weed and I chewed my lip, really needed some sort of a relief.

Unfortunately, I caved and said, "Fine. But I'm only staying till six."

"Fine by me," he nodded, taking the packet and throwing himself on the old leather couch. I sat beside him since it was a two-seater, not allowing much space between us but I was used to it at this point.

I'd been delivering to Wes for 2 years now and he never once made me uncomfortable, except for the time he smacked my ass 2 months ago because he was high off his ass and thought it would be funny. Since then, he'd apologised multiple times and I let it go.

"More shit at school?" he asked in regards to my tense demeanour and I nodded, falling back into the couch as he grabbed the rolling paper.

"Just some bitch saying stupid shit," I mumbled angrily and he hummed, quickly rolling a joint like I'd seen him to hundreds of times.

"Rich?" he questioned and I chuckled, nodding immediately and he rolled his eyes, sliding a filter into the joint, "Of course."

"There's this guy though," I told him honestly as he began sealing the joint with the moisture from his tongue as he looked at me with raised eyebrows, "He stayed over last night."

"Look at you! Finally getting some dick," he chuckled to himself and I shoved his shoulder with a roll of my eyes, "They grow up so fast."

"Shut up, dude. We didn't go the full mile," I rolled my eyes and he chuckled once again.

"It's a start. I don't remember the last time you told me about anyone," he pointed out and I shrugged as he picked up one of the many lighters littering the coffee table in front of us.

"Yeah well," I trailed off at he lit the end of the joint, "His friends are nice too. One of them wants to take me dress shopping for prom."

He took a hit of the joint, keeping the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he passed it to me, "I thought you hated that shit."

"I do," I replied as he handed me the joint and I took a hit before continuing, "But she really wants me to go for some reason and one of their friends said he would take me as his date if I do go."

"Why isn't Romeo taking you?" he asked as I took another hit before I handed it back to him and I let out a bitter laugh.

"The girl who's being a bitch is one of his friends and they've been planning on going together way before I came into the picture," I explained and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, taking a moment to inhale before he spoke again.

"I'm so glad I dropped out this shit sounds way too confusing," he mumbled and I took the joint from him again, taking two more hits in a row, "Alright chill out. You're gonna green out if you're not careful this shit is strong."

"I'm fine," I shrugged, handing him the joint again as I sunk back into the couch further, the effects of the drug already hitting me, "I needed something to take the edge off anyway."

"You already finished that bag I gave you?" he asked and I nodded, rolling my head to the side to look at him as he joined me in sinking back into the couch.

"Dad took half of it so yeah," I replied and he rolled his eyes, jumping off the couch and walking to the kitchen. He returned moments later with another small bag in hand and threw it into my lap, "Wes, I don't need it."

"Take the fucking bag, Layla," he smiled down at me and I pursed my lips before nodding, sliding the small plastic-wrapped weed into my bag.

"Thanks," I gave him a thankful smile as he took another hit, sitting back down on the couch beside me, handing me the joint once again. We continued handing the joint back and forth in silence until it was down to the filter before he threw it in the ashtray on the table.

"Ya know," he started, making me turn my head towards him lazily, "You're always one of my favourite people to smoke with. We should do it more."

"Because I'm just so charming," I smile at him dopily making him chuckle, the drug taking its full effects slowly on both of us.

"You're just chill," he shrugged, sliding further into the couch and I chuckled, laying my head back on the top of the couch as my eyes began blurring in and out of focus, the ceiling seeming so far away.

"You think I should go to prom out of spite?" I asked, my words mumbled from my dry mouth the drug had created and he hummed.

"Show up hot as fuck, make her mad and make him regret his decision of not taking you instead," he laughed to himself and I smiled, nodding my head in agreement even though I wasn't sure he could see me.

"Sounds like a plan," I answered and he hummed in response, my body going limp from the strong weed, "What is this shit?"

"Blue Dream," he responded and I lifted my head to look at him, "Isn't it sick?"

"Dude," I squinted my eyes at them as they now felt heavy, "You know this shit is supposed to make you mad horny, right?"

"Oh fuck," he began laughing to himself and I couldn't help but smile at his idiocy, shaking my head in disbelief, "I had no idea. Chase just said it's hella strong."

"On that note," I leaned forward and stood up lazily, "I'm gonna go."

"No come on," he whined and I looked down at him, my eyelids heavy and my breathing laboured.

"I'm not about to stay here and watch you get a fucking boner," I laughed as I picked up my bag, "I like you dude but not that much."

"Next time we'll smoke something else I swear," he leaned forward, holding out his hand for a fist bump which I quickly reciprocated, "You gonna be good to walk home?"

"Yeah, no worries. I'll see you next time," I waved as I unlocked the door, swinging it open before closing it behind me. I waddled down the steps of the apartment, making my way onto the road where the sun was starting to go down.

As I walked down the pavement, my legs wobbled and my vision became less focused. I was used to walking around high but I'd never had Blue Dream and I could tell its effects of horniness were hitting me. I could barely focus, the wind around me swaying me as I walked. I almost tripped onto the road and I sighed, deciding to sit down on the curb for a moment.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, realising it was already 5:30 and Matt would be done with his training by now. Through my foggy thoughts and wanting to be with someone right now, I clicked on his contact and waited as it rang in my ear.

"Hey, Layls," he answered after two rings and my fave immediately lit up, the sound of his voice bringing joy to the chemicals in my brain.

"Hey baby," I mumbled, the words falling off my tongue like honey, "Whatcha doin'?"

"I just got out of the shower. Are you okay, pretty girl?" he asked, sounding confused by my tone and I nodded regardless of if he could see me.

"I'm great! I just miss you," I whined, throwing my head down onto my knees that were pulled to my chest. A car drove past me quickly and I lifted my head, the sound startling me.

"Where are you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern but all I could focus on was the rasp of his voice, heat travelling directly between my thighs.

"On the corner of Valine and West Street," I mumbled, throwing my head back down onto my knees and I heard shuffling on his end of the phone.

"What are you doing there?" he asked, his voice still laced with worry and I sighed dreamily.

"I just had to drop some stuff off to a friend but my legs are tired. I don't wanna walk home," I whined loudly and I heard him hum, doors closing before a click.

"I'm coming to get you, pretty girl. Can you stay on the phone?" he asked and I hummed in response, my stomach igniting at the thought of seeing him right now.

"I'll do anything for you," I responded, my voice filled with seduction and lust before I giggled at myself.

"What did you take?" he questioned and I rolled my head to the side, the cold breeze feeling nice on my skin.

"Just smoked a little bit," I answered honestly and he sighed before mumbling something I didn't catch, "Can you keep talking to me?"

"I'm almost there. I'm like three minutes away, okay?" he responded and I sensed a slight annoyance in his tone but I brushed it off as I hummed, squeezing my thighs together, "Are you alone?"

"Yeah," I sighed, lifting my head and looking around at the lifeless street around me.

"Okay, I'll be there in a sec. Just don't move," he answered hurriedly and I sighed dreamily once again.

"I like your voice," I mumbled, closing my eyes as I listened to the sound of the engine revving as he drove and I heard him chuckle, my heart filling with joy at the sound.

"Thanks, pretty girl," he answered and I could hear the smile in his voice making my smile widen.

"I just like you in general. You're really nice to me," I mumbled, a dopey smile on my lips as I let my eyes flutter open and I once again heard him chuckle.

"I like you too," he answered softly and my smile widened, "I'm a minute away."

"Thank god," I let out a breath of relief, making sure my bag was on my shoulder as I began standing up, losing my balance briefly, "Whoops."

"You okay?" he asked and I hummed, regaining my composure, sliding my bag further up my shoulder as I pressed the phone to my ear. I looked up to see headlights coming towards me before Matt said, "Hey, pretty girl."

I smiled at him, despite being blinded by the headlights before I waltzed over to the car, hanging up the phone as I pulled the passenger door open, "Heyyy."

"Oh my god," he shook his head with a smile as I jumped in the car, slamming the door behind me before I clicked my seatbelt in.

"You look good," I smiled at him as I leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. My eyes scanned his body, noticing that he was wearing a white hoodie, blue plaid pyjama pants and not shoes, "You didn't even put shoes on."

"Shoes weren't exactly my concern when I left the house," he raised his eyebrows at me and I pursed my lips, holding back a giggle.

"Sorry," I bit my bottom lip and he shook his head, a soft smile on his lips, "Can I be honest?"

"Of course," he nodded and I smiled up at him dopily again.

"I'm really high," I giggled, tucking my messy hair behind my ear.

"Really? I didn't notice," he answered sarcastically and I hummed, leaning over the console as I placed my hand on his jaw, pulling his face towards mine. I pressed my lips against his, the feeling of his body so close to mine making heat travel directly between my thighs.

"I missed you," I mumbled against his lips and he took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth dancing with my own. I got lost in the feeling of his mouth against mine, my heightened sense making it feel like I was in heaven.

"Okay," he pulled away from me before placing another quick peck on my lips, "I'm not about to get into this while you're high."

"No," I whined, pulling his face to mine once again and he snickered against my lips making me smile once again before he pulled away again.

"Baby," he whispered, placing his hand on my cheek to lift my head to look at him, the pet name making my heart swell, "I'm not doing anything unless you're sober."

"But I'm so horny," I whined, leaning my head on his shoulder and I felt his chest shake with a laugh.

"I'm aware," he said through a laugh before I lifted my head to look at him with a pout, "But that's because you're high."

"Why do you have to be such a morally right man?" I rolled my eyes, a smile still on my lips and he brushed my hair behind my ear as I melted into his touch.

"You want me to drop you home?" he asked and I shook my head, my face turning sour at the thought of having to face my father.

"Can I stay at yours? I don't wanna deal with my dad," I frowned and his face softened, "I don't wanna go home."

"You can come to mine, it's okay," he began stroking my cheek with his thumb and I let my head slump against his hand, the touch making me feel calm again, "You can lay your head on my shoulder, pretty girl. I gotta drive."

I nodded lazily, moving my hand off of his hand and placing it on his right shoulder. He took the car out of park and drove down the road. I hummed to the song playing on the radio and he used his right hand to reach over the console, placing it on my thigh and running his thumb up and down.

"Don't do that," I mumbled, moving his hand further down so it was closer to my knee, "You're just gonna make me wanna fuck you even more."

"Sorry," he said through a chuckle as I closed my eyes, adjusting my head on his shoulder, "You have no filter when you're high."

"Why do you think I made you put my hand up my hoodie the first time I was high around you?" I mumbled, smiling to myself and he hummed, "Wes didn't tell me the strain until after we had it and he didn't know it made you horny."

"Wes?" he asked and I forgot he didn't know who Wes was.

"Mhm. Been friends with him for two years," I explained and he hummed, sounding slightly annoyed, "I left after he told me though. He had no idea."

"I'm sure he didn't," he grumbled and I smiled, looking up to see a frown now covering his face as he drove with his left hand.

"Don't be jealous. He's like a brother to me," I leaned up, kissing his jaw lightly making him sigh.

"Mhm," he hummed and I trailed kisses down his neck, sucking the flesh under his ear making him let out a heavy breath, "Layls."

"Yeah?" I mumbled against his skin, getting lost in the way his body reacted to me.

"I'm driving," he mumbled, his grip on my thigh tightening slightly making me smile against him.

"Then focus on the road," I smirked into him and he let out another breath, tilting his head to the left to give me more access. I continued to suck and kiss all over his neck as his breathing got heavier.

Suddenly, the car turned a corner before coming to a halt and I looked up to see we were already at his house. I pursed my lips, hiding my smile as I looked at the purple dot I had created on his skin.

"Let's go," he said, pulling his hand off of my thigh as he turned the car off before jumping out of the car and I followed his actions as he walked inside quietly.

tags:

@ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @dsturniolo @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn

[whosscruffylooking]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ The Beginning of Us- Chapter 7 ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Joel Miller x Fem! Reader warnings: violence. mentions of weapons and death. descriptions of wounds and blood. word count: 4k a/n: I can't stand the beginning of this, but my brain is too fried to write anything better. Series Masterlist

The atmosphere in the truck feels lighter, though not entirely free of the burden you all carry. There’s a newfound ease between the three of you. Ellie chatters now and then, her voice filling the silence with youthful curiosity, but it’s the quieter moments that linger. The way Joel’s eyes glance to yours in the passenger seat, uncertain yet inviting. The way his hand rests on the gearshift, pinky lifting every so often, as if drawn by some unseen pull—reaching for even the tiniest connection, just an inch closer to you.

You’ve finally breached one of the most forbidden subjects: Sarah. For so long, the unaddressed pain between you had been like a rusted blade buried deep, poisoning your thoughts and staining every step forward. You had both swallowed a grief so consuming it reshaped you, hollowed out the people you once were, and left jagged edges where softer ones had been. Twenty years of silence. Twenty years of blame, festering and misplaced.

But while the ghost of resentment still remains, clinging stubbornly like smoke after a fire, there’s movement now. It’s delicate and gradual like the first uneasy thaw after a long, punishing winter. Every breath feels like it could tip the balance toward healing or fracture it all over again, but for the first time, there’s hope. It’s frightening, really—the way it creeps in, tempting you to believe there’s still something left to save.

“That’s enough for today. I’ll pull off here,” Joel declares as he guides the truck offroad, weaving carefully through a forest of trees until he finds a suitable spot.

As the three of you settle in for the night, the sun melts into the horizon, casting long amber shadows through the trees. Joel busies himself with arranging the sleeping bags, his movements methodical, deliberate. It doesn’t go unnoticed—by you or Ellie—that he places yours closest to his. A quiet statement that is undeniable. 

Later, he leans against a tree, the rough bark pressing into his back as his eyes track your every movement. He watchesthe way you laugh at one of Ellie’s jokes, a rare flicker of brightness breaking through the cracks of everything you’ve endured. It’s fleeting, but it catches something in his chest, grips him tight. For a moment, he sees you as you once were—before the world collapsed, before you were both hardened by loss and time. It stirs something deep, something he thought had withered away long ago.

Still, unease gnaws at the edges of his thoughts, restless and insistent. Tommy had told him you left that night. He said you had disappeared and never looked back. But then, why return if you had already gone? You said you were hurt, lost, searching for help—why go back? Why risk everything? The pieces don’t align, jagged and ill-fitting, teasing a truth he isn’t sure he’s ready to face.

It’s a conversation for another day, but the questions press in like splinters beneath his skin, threatening to tear open wounds he’s barely stitched closed. His fingers graze over the cracked glass of his watch, the lantern’s glow catching the fractures like veins of light. A relic of another life—one he’s never truly abandoned. He wonders if you’ve clung to the past the same way, if it’s been your anchor in the same relentless storm.

But the unease coils tighter, a vice around his ribs. He knows himself well enough to recognize it—this feeling won’t let go, won’t quit, not until he has the answers. And though the truth might cut him open, he also knows he won’t turn away. It’ll fester otherwise, like everything else he’s tried—and failed—to bury.

»»————————-««

As you nestle into your sleeping bags, the rhythmic hum of crickets and the distant hoot of an owl weave through the night air, a fragile lullaby against the quiet tension between you. You focus on the sounds, willing them to drown out the awareness of just how close Joel is beside you.

He, however, keeps his gaze fixed on the stars, their cold glow offering little solace. His mind churns, restless and unrelenting, grasping for anything to quiet the unease stirring deep in his chest.

“Can I ask you guys a serious question?” Ellie’s voice breaks the quiet, snapping both you and Joel out of your thoughts.

“Yeah,” Joel groans, already bracing himself.

“Why did the scarecrow get an award?” she asks, another pun from that Will Livingston book she refuses to stop quoting.

Joel sighs heavily. “Because he was outstanding in his field,” he deadpans, his tone flat as a board. It’s clear he wants this over with as quickly as possible.

“You dick! Did you read this?” Ellie laughs, her voice full of mock betrayal.

Her laughter is contagious, and you can’t help but chuckle yourself. Ellie notices, and that only makes her laugh harder, her giggles bubbling up like she’s struck comedy gold.

You glance at Joel, and his expression is priceless—a mix of exasperation and pure defeat. He looks like he’s contemplating how far he could drive before they’d notice he’s gone.

“Shhhh,” you try to stifle your laughter, though it keeps slipping out. “Ellie, come on, or he’s gonna lose it.”

But Ellie’s laughter only grows louder, and for a brief moment, the heaviness of the night lifts, replaced by a rare, fleeting lightness. Even Joel, despite himself, seems less tense, though he’d never admit it.

»»————————-««

The next day, you make it to Kansas City. It’s your turn to drive when the road ahead suddenly narrows into a blockade. Stacked cars and an old semi-trailer block the way forward, their rusted hulks leaning precariously.

Joel leans forward in the passenger seat, assessing the situation. “Pull over,” he says, his voice calm but purposeful. He grabs his gun, opening the door. “Stay put, but move over to the passenger seat.”

You slide over as he steps out, moving carefully around the obstacle, his keen eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. After a few tense minutes, he returns, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary.

“Blocked pretty solid,” he confirms. You hold up the map, tracing a route with your finger.

“If we go around the tunnel and take the next ramp, we should loop back to the highway.”

Joel nods, glancing at the barricade one last time before driving the truck away. Once in the city, he navigates the truck through the crumbling streets, the maze of abandoned buildings growing denser with every turn. The eerie stillness is unnerving, and you can feel Joel growing more restless beside you.

“Stop,” Ellie says abruptly, her voice cutting through the suspense. Joel’s hand shoots out instinctively to the dashboard as you brake.

“Is that the QZ?” she asks, pointing out the window. “Where’s FEDRA? There’s supposed to be guards and checkpoints.”

“She’s right,” you agree, scanning the empty streets. “It’s way too quiet.”

Joel’s hand twitches toward his gun. Before either of you can act, a voice calls out from the shadows.

“Stop! Help me, please!”

A man stumbles into view, clutching his side, his gait uneven. Blood stains his shirt, and his face is twisted in pain. He looks desperate. Too desperate.

You grab Joel’s arm, your grip firm. “Don’t stop,” you instruct. Joel glances at you, then back at the man.

“Put your seatbelt on, Ellie,” Joel orders, his voice cold.

“What? We’re just gonna leave him?” she asks, her tone tinged with disbelief.

“He’s not hurt, Ellie,” you answer, your voice tight.

Joel slams his foot on the gas, the truck surging forward. The man dives out of the way as a loud crash shatters the windshield—a cinder block falls from above. The truck jolts violently as spikes shred the tires. Joel curses under his breath, gripping the wheel as the truck fishtails.

From the corner of your eye, you see a man step into the street, raising a gun. Three sharp cracks ring out. Pain explodes in your shoulder, hot and blinding. You cry out, your hand shooting to the wound as blood begins to seep through your fingers.

“Shit!” Ellie screams, lurching forward, her hands hovering helplessly over you. “You’re hit!”

Joel’s eyes dart to you, wide with panic. Without a word, he jerks the wheel hard to the right.

“Hold on!” he yells, pressuring the gas pedal to the floor. The truck barrels forward, smashing straight into the front of an old laundromat. Glass and debris explode around you as the truck crashes through the building, coming to a screeching halt amid the rows of rusted washing machines.

Gunfire continues to rain down outside, bullets pinging off the truck’s metal frame. Joel doesn’t waver—he’s out of the truck in an instant, his gun drawn as he moves to your side. He tears the door open, his movements frantic but precise.

“Ellie, stay low and follow me!” Joel barks, already helping you out of the truck. His arm wraps around your waist, steadying you as you stumble, your legs weakened by the pain in your shoulder.

“They’re still shooting!” Ellie yells, ducking behind the truck for cover.

“Go! Move!” Joel shouts, dragging you toward the back of the laundromat where the machines provide better cover. His grip on you is firm but careful, his body shielding yours as bullets shatter the glass and ricochet off metal.

Inside the dim, dusty room, Joel lowers you behind a row of washers, pressing his hand firmly against your wound to staunch the bleeding. His face is pale, his breaths ragged as his eyes dart toward the shattered front window, tracking the movement of the attackers outside.

“I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, though the pain in your voice betrays you.

“Bullshit,” Joel snaps, his voice breaking slightly. “Stay down. Don’t move.”

You nod weakly, your vision blurring as Ellie crouches beside you, her wide eyes darting between you and Joel.

“What do we do?” she asks, her voice shaking.

Joel glances at you, something raw flickering in his eyes before he turns back to Ellie. “Stay here. Watch her. I’ll deal with them.”

“You see that hole over there?” You motion toward the jagged hole in the wall, your breath shallow, the edges of your vision blurring slightly.

Ellie nods, her wide eyes darting between you and Joel.

“You go squeeze through. Stay there. Whatever you do, don’t leave, okay?” Your voice is weaker than you’d like, but it carries enough weight to make her nod, even as fear flickers across her face.

“Joel,” you say, your voice trembling now, “Cover her. She’s gonna go through there. And hand me my gun, will you? It’s not like I have much else to do.” You try to summon a smirk, but it falls flat. The pain is taking its toll.

Joel hesitates, his jaw clenching as though he wants to argue, but he complies, handing you your gun with a look that says he disagrees with this plan.

“When I say go, you run,” Joel tells Ellie, his tone firm and steady.

Ellie’s lip quivers, but she nods. “They’re not gonna hit you,” Joel reassures her, his voice softening. “Look at me! They’re not gonna hit you.”

Your heart clenches, watching him ground her in the chaos. She trusts him—more than anyone else in the world—and it shows in the way she steels herself under his gaze.

And it plays out just as planned. Joel fires cover shots, his aim sharp and unwavering, while Ellie sprints to the hole in the wall, slipping through to safety. He tosses your gun to you.

With trembling hands, you drag yourself behind an overturned washer, positioning yourself as best as you can to provide backup. You’ve been through worse, you remind yourself. You’ve survived worse. The sharp, burning pain in your shoulder isn’t enough to stop you—not yet.

The chaos quiets, but heavy footsteps echo in the distance. Joel does away with the last man with practiced precision. Relief flickers through you—until he rushes to your side and sees your paling face and the way your eyes start to lose focus.

“Stay with me,” Joel urges, his voice rising in desperation. “Don’t go to sleep. You hear me? We can rest later.”

His hands press hard against your wound, and the sharp surge of pain pushes you to the edge. Your vision darkens, the sounds around you muffling. You fight to stay present, but it’s too much—the pain, the blood loss, the sheer exhaustion.

The sound of a door slamming open jolts you back, even as you hover on the edge of consciousness. Joel’s hands are ripped from you.

“Joel!” Your voice is hoarse and weak, but panic fuels it.

What follows is a cacophony of sounds—a brutal struggle, fists meeting flesh, the crash of objects falling, and then gasping—Joel’s gasping. You can’t see him, can’t help him and your heart seizes with fear. You feel utterly helpless.

A gunshot rings out, piercing the air. The sound startles you, and then you hear a voice—a stranger’s—crying out in pain, pleading for mercy. His words are garbled, but it’s not Joel. Relief floods you, though it’s quickly overtaken by dread.

Joel says something to Ellie, but your hearing is fading in and out. The gunshot came from Ellie? Then, her small frame suddenly appears beside you. She buries her face in your shoulder, her trembling hands clutching at you.

You force your shaking arms to move, weakly covering her ears. “It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay,” you whisper, though your words feel hollow. You’re barely hanging on, your mind fighting to stay present for her.

Another scream cuts through the night, followed by silence. It’s over.

Joel’s hands return to you, his grip steady but shaking. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you closer.

You let yourself take one last deep breath, your body finally succumbing to the darkness.

“Joel! Joel, what’s happening?!” Ellie’s voice pierces the haze, frantic and scared.

“She’s okay!” Joel barks, though his voice trembles with barely contained panic. “She’s just passed out. She’ll be fine.” He looks at Ellie, desperate now. “Go clear that door over there. I need to get her in someplace safe.”

Joel moves with a frantic precision, his hands steady even as his thoughts spiral out of control. He lays you down on an old, splintered desk in the back room. Blood seeps through the torn fabric of your shirt, spreading fast, too fast, and it makes his stomach twist violently.

“Dammit,” he mutters under his breath, grabbing a rag from his pack and pressing it against the wound. You flinch slightly even in your unconscious state, the movement barely there but enough to let him know you’re still fighting. He clamps down harder on the cloth, praying it’ll stop the bleeding.

He pulls a bottle of alcohol from his bag, uncapping it with one hand while the other keeps pressure on your shoulder. His chest tightens as he remembers the way you looked at him earlier, like you trusted him completely. He doesn’t deserve that trust— not after the way things ended, the way he’s been holding onto every ounce of resentment like it was armor.

When he pours the alcohol over your wound, you let out a low, unconscious whimper, and it nearly shatters him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice barely audible. His hands shake for a fraction of a second before he forces himself back into focus.

The memories hit him like blows as he threads a needle, the trembling lantern light reflecting off the curved metal. Tommy said you left, his mind insists, a bitter refrain he’s held onto for years. But you didn’t, did you? Not entirely, not the way he thought.

Joel’s jaw tightens as he starts stitching the wound, his hands steady despite the storm in his chest. Every stitch feels like a penance, a punishment for the years he’s spent hating you, for not asking the questions he should’ve asked, for letting pride and anger fester where understanding should’ve been.

His gaze flickers to your face, soft and vulnerable in the dim light, and a pang of guilt settles deep in his gut. You didn’t deserve this—not the wound, not his coldness, not the years spent apart.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, almost pleading. “Don’t you dare leave me again.”

The words come unbidden, bare, and unfiltered, slipping past the walls he’s built so carefully. He doesn’t know if you can hear him, but saying it feels like a small release, like loosening a band that’s been wrapped too tightly around his chest.

By the time he finishes stitching you up, his hands are covered in blood, and his heart feels just as stained. He sits back on the chair next to the desk, his head falling into his hands for a brief moment.

The sound of Ellie shuffling nervously in the doorway brings him back. He straightens, wiping his hands on his jeans and looking at her with a weariness he doesn’t try to hide.

“She gonna be okay?” Ellie asks softly, her eyes red-rimmed and wide with fear.

Joel nods, though his throat feels too tight to speak. “She’ll be fine,” he manages, more to convince himself than her.

But as he looks at you again, unconscious and pale, he knows this isn’t over. The wound might heal, but the questions won’t. Not until he gets answers. And even then, he’s not sure the guilt will ever go away.

»»————————-««

The night stretches on, endless and unrelenting. Joel stays propped up against the table, his eyes fixed on you, watching the faint rise and fall of your chest. Ellie is fast asleep, curled up on the floor nearby, but Joel can’t afford to rest. Not with the weight pressing down on his chest like a vice.

He fights exhaustion, forcing himself to stay awake. Every time his eyelids droop, he snaps them open again, his focus returning to you. You look peaceful, even with the makeshift bandages and bruises. Peaceful in a way that pulls at something deep inside him. He’s reminded of a morning long ago, of you lying beside him in bed, tangled in the sheets after a night where neither of you could get enough of each other. You’d fallen asleep against his chest, your breaths steady, your body warm and safe in his arms. You’d looked like an angel then. 

You look like one now.

The memory soothes him, softens his tense shoulders, and before he realizes it, his head lulls back against the table, and sleep drags him under.

He’s back in Texas. The sky is gray, heavy with storm clouds, the streets eerily quiet. He knows this place—it’s the town where his world ended. Where everything fell apart.

Then he sees you, standing alone in the middle of the street. Your back is to him, and something about the way you stand makes his stomach twist.

“Y/N!” he calls out, his voice loud in the empty street.

You don’t respond.

He moves toward you, faster now. “Y/N!” he yells again, his voice cracking.

When he reaches you, his hand grips your shoulder, turning you toward him.

You scream.

His eyes lock on yours, and his heart stops. Blood coats your clothes, dark and endless, pooling beneath you. The shrapnel protrudes from your side, the bullet wound gapes in your shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, filled with pain and something he can’t bear to name.

“You keep leaving me to die, Joel,” you whisper, your voice trembling, barely audible.

“No,” he chokes out, shaking his head. “No, I—”

Your body begins to crumple, and he catches you, pulling you into his arms.

“Please,” he begs, his voice breaking. “Please don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”

“I didn’t leave,” you gasp, blood staining your lips as you struggle to breathe. “You left me.”

Your body goes limp in his arms.

“No,” he whispers, his chest heaving with sobs. “No, no, no—please! Come back! I lo—”

He jolts awake, his heart pounding so violently it feels like it might burst. His breaths come in shallow gasps, and tears streak his face, hot and unchecked.

For a moment, he’s disoriented, the nightmare clinging to him like a suffocating shroud. But then he remembers. You’re here. You’re alive.

He scrambles to his feet and rushes to your side. His hands tremble as he presses two fingers to your neck, searching for your pulse. There it is—steady and strong. His eyes flick to your chest, watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths. Relief crashes over him so forcefully his knees almost give out.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice raw, barely audible. “Stay with me. I know you didn’t leave. Just…stay now. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand lingers near yours, so close he could touch it, but he pulls back, afraid of how much he needs you. His head dips, his shoulders trembling as he fights to compose himself, to push down the storm of emotions threatening to overtake him.

But in the dim light of the room, with Ellie still asleep and you lying motionless beside him, Joel allows himself this one moment of vulnerability. He allows himself to grieve what he thought he’d lost, even as he clings to the hope that you’ll wake up and prove him wrong.

»»————————-««

Joel startles awake at the faint sound of your stirrings, the soft rustle of fabric snapping him out of his restless haze. In an instant, he’s by your side, his knees hitting the floor as he leans over you, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your eyes flutter open, bleary and unfocused at first, but they slowly settle on him. The face you see is raw with worry, the lines on his brow deeper than you remember.

“Joel,” you whisper, your voice weak, barely audible.

“I’m here,” he chokes out, his voice thick with relief. “Oh, thank God, I’m here.” His hand cups the side of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair as if grounding himself in the reality that you’re alive.

Last night, he’d begged—something he hadn’t done in years. He’d bargained with whatever higher power might still exist, offering up every part of himself if it meant you’d open your eyes. He’d have traded places with you in a heartbeat if it guaranteed you’d be okay.

“How long have I been out?” you murmur, attempting to push yourself up, only for your body to betray you. Pain shoots through you, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“All night,” he replies, his hands quickly bracing you before you can strain yourself further. “But you’re patched up. You’re gonna be alright.” His voice trembles ever so slightly, betraying the storm of emotions he’s fighting to contain.

Your eyes drift closed for a moment, overwhelmed by the effort of staying conscious. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Joel’s grip on you tightens. “Don’t apologize. Not ever,” he says firmly, the meaning of the words wavering in the air between you.

For a moment, you see something flash in his eyes—something finally unguarded. He looks at you like he’s still afraid to blink, like if he does, you’ll disappear again. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to keep it all in, but the emotions claw at him, desperate to be let loose.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he admits, his voice rough and unsteady. His gaze drops, and for the first time, you see his armor crack. “I thought—” He stops, inhaling sharply, his fingers brushing against your temple. “I thought I...we lost you.”

His breath shudders, his whole body taut with the effort of holding himself together. Tears threaten, burning at the edges of his vision, but he refuses to let them fall. Instead, he hovers close—too close—his forehead nearly brushing yours before he catches himself.

“Don’t do that to me again,” he rasps, his voice barely more than a breath, fractured and desperate. “I can’t—I can’t lose you. Not again.”

It’s not a plea. It’s not a command. It’s the unguarded confession of a man who’s spent too long burying what he can’t bear to feel—until now.

»»————————-««

Taglist: @si1versamurai @eaterof-concrete @mysteriouslyperfecttiger @daybleedsintonightfa11 @rosey1981 @eaterof-concrete

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

“Thank you.” You whispered, knowing full well he’d heard you clearly, as he had to get really close to your face. Your gaze immediately fell onto his lips, something he must’ve caught up by the slight upwards curve they got. He was supposed to back up now, to go back to see the sunrise. Instead, the faint undertones of his cologne got stronger, his eyes focused on your lips as well. He was awfully close now you could feel his breathing on your face.

Chapter 14 < > Chapter 16 [soon]

Pretty short, pretty late and pretty awful but I’m sorry, my brain is fried

Taglist in the comments, if anyone else would like to be added to the taglist, let me know!

The city was as calm as your heart, a wild contrast to the thoughts in your head, as rowdy as the wind blowing your hair.

With Jason sitting so close to you, you could feel his body rising with every breath, his body heat helping you with the cold. After he sat down, it didn’t take more than a second for his hand to find yours, neither of you saying anything but taking in the presence of the other.

You turn to look at him, not subtly this time. The sunshine bathing him made his hair look redish, the white streak standing out. He noticed you staring, of course he did, yet instead on calling you out, he lolled his head to smile at you before turning his gaze to the sunrise once more.

Despite all, your face was impassive, glum. You couldn’t help but think back to Tim’s unfinished words from last night, before Damian found you.

‘It’s not that…’

Not, what? Not possible for you to go back? Not going to be easy to explain an almost two-month disappearance? But why would he worry about it? As long as they get their dad back, any other issue that arises for you will be of no concern to them.

Do you even want to go back?

What did you have, besides painful memories and brisk nightly companions?

But what made you think they would even want to have you here for long?

“Here, let me.” Jason was the one to break the silence, seeing you battle with the wind blowing your hair and obstructing your view for the fifth time. The hand that was holding yours let go, and the breeze hadn’t felt so cold until now. You saw him place his hand inside the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out the bat-shaped hair clip, gathering your hair in a loose, poorly done bun, but it got the job done. “There.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, knowing full well he’d heard you clearly, as he had to get really close to your face. Your gaze immediately fell onto his lips, something he must’ve caught up by the slight upwards curve they got.

He was supposed to back up now, to go back to see the sunrise. Instead, the faint undertones of his cologne got stronger, his eyes focused on your lips as well. He was awfully close now you could feel his breathing on your face.

“So, uh…” You turned your head, clearing your throat and speaking louder to drown out the cries from your heart. “What’s in there?”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second before turning to see what you were looking at.

“Oh, I almost forgot about it.” He grabbed the woven basket, placing it between the two of you. You thought you’ll see fruits, ice-cream, maybe mini sandwiches, anything that wouldn’t taste bad if it was cold.

You didn’t expect to see a metal box inside. “Oh, steel. My favorite.”

Jason laughed at your lame joke, pressing a button on the top of the box. “I borrowed this from the old man. Let’s see if it works.”

The container opened with a slight hiss, the top folding in itself to the sides, revealing an assortment of sweet foods, going from donuts, waffles and muffins to berries, fruits, and chocolate covered strawberries.

In the middle of all, two large cups of hot chocolate were still letting out steam, Jason handed you one, cupping the mug with your fingers to warm them up, relishing in the heat.

You were taken aback by how perfect Jason was trying to be, so thoughtful, and romantic, straight out of a romance book. He was the type of man you ever dreamt of dating, yet even though he was sitting as close to you as physically possible, he still felt distant, unreachable, as if he was still just simple words inside a screen.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all he was. And that’s all he’ll become again when you get home.

“And after that mission,” You didn’t even realize Jason was talking, unaware of the internal struggle you were going through. “B began developing a prototype for this thing, to keep things warm for long periods of time. Looks like it works.”

“Yeah…” You took a donut, amazed at how warm it was, tasting as if it was just out of the oven, the filling of it so rich and full of flavor.

The sun had already risen, with more cars roaming the streets, honks, and shouts, and motors creating the sound pollution you were used to.

“So, what did you used to do? Back home.” Jason asked between sips of his cocoa.

“Nothing too exciting, I’ll tell you that.” You chuckled, taking a sip of your drink, only to purse your lips after being burned by it. “I was just a hotel receptionist.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, I did. Sometimes. I mean, it wasn’t what I expected to be when I grew up, but it paid the bills, and it wasn’t that bad, so…”

"What would you have wanted?"

“To marry rich.” Jason laughed, taking hold of your hand again. “No, but I… Ugh, this is so lame but… I wanted to do something to help people, like you guys do. Maybe not vigilantism, but something my own way.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hotel receptionist pays the bills... Must be nice to have a billionaire as your dad, not worry about that kind of thing.”

“Must be nicer to have been raised by your parents.”

Your blood went cold, body even colder. You’d said it as just a lighthearted comment, something a lot of people would joke about, it was easy for you to forget the reason as to why he’d come to live with Bruce.

“I’m so, so sorry Jason, I didn’t–”

“’s fine. You’re not the first one to say it.”

But it wasn’t fine, the way his jaw clenched, and his posture turned rigid proved it was not right. The way his fingers slithered out of your hold, no matter how much you tried to keep them intertwined, hurt more than the icy cold biting your cheeks, the temperature dropping with every breath.

“So, uh…” You poorly attempted to change the topic, to get him to talk and think about something else instead of the lingering uncomfortableness that didn’t seem it would disappear any time soon. "What do you do when you're not... Working overnight?"

“Not much. Mainly just detective work. You can’t do a lot when you’re dead.”

“Have you ever thought of changing that? I’m sure Tim–”

“Tim can do everything, can’t he?” He spat the words with so much hate it actually made you jump in your place. “You think I can’t do it on my own? I’m too stupid to handle a fucking computer? No, the replacement’s gotta do it. That’s why it didn’t take Bruce long to give him my place, ‘cuz he’s so great at everything he does.”

Dark clouds were moving slowly behind him, eating away the beautiful rays of sunshine that just a few minutes ago had shone so brightly.

“Why do you always have to call him that? Tim didn’t replace you.”

“Then what did he do? He took my place at the manor, he took Robin away from me, he took my 'dad' away from me. That seems like something a replacement would do.”

The first few drops of rain began falling onto you. Taking away any warmth the sun had given you. “Tim didn’t want to be Robin, he tried to get Dick to get back. He only did so when he saw how violent Bruce was getting after you were gone.”

“After I was gone? What, like I was gone on vacation? Like I abandoned him like Dick did? So, it’s my fault, isn’t it? Bruce was finally doing what the scum of Gotham deserved but no, we can’t have him do that, we can’t have him throw away everything for a street rat he found, the great Timothy had to save him.”

You knew the reason as to why Jason could be mad at him, but it still angered you a lot that Tim was getting blamed for something he didn’t do, for something he tried so hard to save only to be rewarded by two assassination attempts.

“What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Let it go?” Even though his voice had gotten lower, his anger was louder and more powerful than the thunders. “Sure. Let it go and act like nothing happened, huh? Act like I wasn’t brutally beaten, tortured with a crowbar and then be blown up?” Was is the raindrops falling down your face, or were they your tears? “To act like my resurrection wasn’t traumatizing enough, and that the person that was supposed to love me didn’t care enough to kill his son’s murderer, even though he could? That he simply took in another child, another soldier for his stupid, never-ending battle, even though he knew what the outcome was?”

You opened your mouth, only to close it again because you knew there was nothing you could say.

“What? Bat got your tongue?”

A second passed, but the fury in his eyes never disappeared. The worst part is that you knew he was right, he had every right to be angry. You fucked up like crazy and there probably was nothing you could do or say to ever apologize.

You made the mistake of turning away for a second, to organize your thoughts and at least attempt to apologize, and when you were ready, the only thing next to you was a half-empty cup of cocoa and a soggy muffin, the paper wrap dissolving in the water.

You turned around, looking for him, hoping he had just stood up to breathe fresh air, to calm himself. You didn’t want to believe he left you here alone, yet there was no one else on the roof with you.

The sound of a bike speeding away made you stand, taking hold of one of the railings to prevent you from falling. And sure enough, Jason’s bike was getting further and further away from the building.

When the downpour was starting to get too strong, you let go of the railing. Jason had been gone for a while and it dawned on you that he wasn’t coming back. You took three steps backwards, the splashing puddles barely heard over the torrent, afraid that if you turned away, you’ll miss your chance of seeing him come back, even though deep down you knew he wouldn’t.

Your shoe hit something metallic that finally made you turn, a low ugh leaving you at seeing the metal container filled to the brim with water, pieces of soggy bread floating around. You dumped it out in a nearby trashcan, taking with you the metal container, as you were sure no one would be happy to know you left valuable bat-equipment behind.

Once the warmth of the elevator was enough to not hurt your fingers typing, you took out your phone to send your location to the only person that came to mind to pick you up, a wave of guilt at seeing how early it still was.

After going down from the 64th floor –were you really that high?– to the lobby, the elevator doors finally opened, the woman in the lobby throwing you a mixture of confusion and annoyance at seeing the large puddle of water you’d left behind and she’d have to clean up.

“Excuse me.” Her gangly voice said once you passed in front of the desk. “Are you a guest here?”

“No.”

She didn’t follow you outside the building, and you didn’t see her try to call the cops on you, living in Gotham, you were sure they wouldn’t bother with just an unknown girl soaked to the bone, she’d probably seen worse.

You didn’t have to wait long before you saw a black car coming your way and stopping right in front of you, the door opening and a hand backing up to give you space to get inside. “You okay?” You closed the door after you, the sound of water droplets falling onto the leather seats made you cringe, knowing the fabric will be ruined. “What are you doing here, alone?”

“Jason.” You said, your voice already hoarse. “I was with him.” You clarified a second later.

“Oh.” Dick said, starting up the car and taking a turn towards the manor, turning on the heat all the way up. “I didn’t know you two were, err, talking.”

“Not anymore, now.”

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Summery: You get a new (old) car! That should help you get around Hawkins... right?

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw

Work Count: 2.8 k

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

The junk car that you managed to scrape together a couple hundred dollars for worked well enough for the first two weeks. It had no heating, no radio, the seats were uncomfortable, and there was a lingering scent that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried to clean it, but it drove you to the Hideout and the high school, and to the trailer you now called home. 

That was until about a half hour ago when the key snapped in the slot to turn the engine on. Could you ever catch a break? Just fucking once while you were here? 

You nearly jumped out of your seat and through the roof of your rust bucket when you heard a tap at the window. You looked to see Eddie, frowning at you and you manually cranked down the window. 

“Evenin’ officer. How can I help you?” you asked, trying not to sound as defeated as you felt in that moment.  

“This is a no parking zone.” He said, leaning over and resting his arms on the open window. It was late November, and the cold was consistent now, but you hardly noticed with how you’d been just staring out the windshield for the past thirty or so minutes. “Neighbors have been sending in complaints.”

You looked behind you at the neighboring trailers. There were at least 2 that had broken down cars within the block, one that’s been sitting on cinder blocks since before you arrived and one that the neighbor had been working on for a few weeks on and off. Other cars were scattered and parked near their own trailers, haphazardly. 

“I’ll be sure to move it.” you said, more dry than intended. 

“So why are you sitting out here in your car, staring out into space?” Eddie asked and looked out the way your car was facing, as if trying to see if there was anything interesting in that general direction. There wasn’t. 

“Car’s broke.”

“How broke?”

You held up the piece of plastic where your key had been attached to. 

“So the car’s fine, but the key broke.” Eddie clarified.

“Is there a difference?” You asked. 

“There is. If the car was busted then you’d be fucked out of this rust bucket-”

“Eddie, you can’t say things like that.-” you rubbed your face, now feeling the cold in the contrast to the warmth in your cheeks. 

“What I’m saying is I can help.” He continued. “Do you have any tools?”

“Uhhh....”

“Follow me.” 

You got out of the car, not bothering to roll the window back up, and followed Eddie back to his trailer across the park. It wasn’t a long walk, you had already come to visit your friend more than a few times since you moved in. You felt a little bad, you found yourself spending time at Eddie’s place more than your own. 

“So, what brought you to my end of the park?” you asked as the two of you walked. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost that wouldn’t fully commit to snow or ice.

“Boredom.” he said honestly. “I fried my brain trying to learn this new riff I’ve been working on and I needed a break.” 

“New song for the set?” You asked. “It’s about time, I get that one Judas Priest song is a staple, but you’ve beaten it into the ground at this point.” 

“Prowler isn’t going anywhere as long as it’s the one song everyone can play consistently.” Eddie protested. “And it’s a new original song I’m working on.” 

“That’s actually really cool.” you followed him into his slightly warmer trailer and watched as he opened a tiny closet and pulled out a tool box. “How many original songs do you have?” 

“Three and a half.” Eddie said. “We uh.. We started with a song that Ronnie and I wrote together. We don’t play that one anymore, but we’ve got one other song, and this one that I’m working on now.”

“Why don’t you play the first song?” You asked as you followed him back out. 

Eddie’s face went stoic for a moment, staring at the dirty green toolbox. “It just didn’t work out.” he finally said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t interested in talking about the song. “The second song is called Litch and if Jeff can commit to learning the vocals then we’d actually be able to play it at the Hideout at some point. They always hesitate on playing our original songs.”

“I’d like to hear your original stuff at some point.” you said, following him back out into the cold. 

“If I can get the guys to commit, then you’ll hear it at some point.” Eddie said, leading the way back to your car. 

There were times where the two of you couldn’t shut up for five seconds, and then there were times where the silence between the two of you was deafening. Sometimes you felt like you were getting somewhere with your friendship with Eddie, and sometimes... sometimes you wondered if he thought about you at all when you weren’t around. 

He came over to see you. Of course he thinks about you. You told yourself, watching the subtle way his hair moved as the two of you walked together. 

Eddie hopping into the driver seat of your car and you moved into the passenger side seat next to him, with the toolbox between the two of you. He immediately pulled out some pliers and started messing with the key slot, trying to get the broken bit of metal out. 

You focused on his face, watching the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue subtly poked out from between his lips. That was something you noticed he did a lot. His brows were furrowed and from your angle it almost gave him a unibrow until he moved his fringe to the side. It was a little longer than it had been in the past two months and you wondered how often he cut it. 

“Shit.” he muttered and leaned back against the seat, his hands resting on the wheel. “Yeah, it’s really jammed in there.” 

“So I’m fucked out of this rust bucket?” you asked, frowning. 

“I... there’s another option.” Eddie said, staring at the wheel. “It’s not a smart option. It’d be stupid, actually and not really safe. And I’d have to do something not completely within the letter of the law.” 

You paused and stared at him. “Don’t you sell special K to high schoolers?” 

“That was once and I overcharged them.” Eddie said. “I save that for a different clientele.” 

For now. You thought. 

“So, what’s the illegal method you have to help me with my car?” you asked. 

Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to refuse to look at you. “We can hotwire it.”

“Hotwire... I’m sorry, what?” you looked at him surprised. “You know how to hotwire a car?” Had that been part of the show? You really wished that you had watched season four more than once over a year ago. It didn’t help that the longer you stayed here, the less you seemed to remember. You had your private box and notebook tucked away in your closet under a blanket, but you only pulled that out when you absolutely had to. Paranoia stopped you from reading everything too closely, and the idea of being caught with the things in that box... you shuddered to think about what would happen and how you’d explain yourself. 

Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment before he pulled a screwdriver from the toolbox. “It’s up to you. I can hotwire the car and teach you how to start it up like that, or you can call a tow and pay to have the key fixed.”

You thought about the options for a while, you were already eating ramen for most of your meals to pay for the car. The car clearly wasn’t worth more than the couple hundred you had paid for it, and you really were convinced that you’d overpaid for it. 

Fuck it. 

Eddie wasn’t gentle with the way he ripped open the dashboard and he started pointing out the different wires. You did stop him for a moment to grab a sheet of paper to write it down. Eddie insisted that after you’ve done it once, you wouldn’t need the cheat sheet, but you weren’t going to take any chances. 

“So.. how’d you learn to do this?” you asked as he rubbed two wires together, flicking them almost. You didn’t think he’d answer, but then the car suddenly rumbled to life and he actually smiled, looking proud of himself. 

“My dad.” Eddie explained. “We didn’t exactly have a traditional relationship growing up. Some kids got birthday parties and trips to the zoo, I got lessons on hotwiring cars and trips to the bar to learn cheap tricks for money. That only lasted until I was about ten when I stopped being small and cute.” 

“Shit.” you said, looking at him, trying to decide on how you’re supposed to respond to that lore that was just dropped on you. Eddie didn’t open up often, and this had to be a sign of trust, right? “...Want me to fight your dad?”

Eddie snorted at your question. “I bet my uncle would take you up on that.” he shook his head. “No reason to, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s probably in jail right now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been locked up.”

“Want me to break in and beat him up anyway?” you offered. “I’m sure I could figure it out.” 

“Your stealth rolls are shit.” he said. 

“You sound like Gareth. What I can or can’t do in D&D is completely different from what I could do in real life.” you said. 

“And how exactly do you plan on sneaking in to beat up my dad?” he asked, amusement in his eyes. 

“I’ll walk in, bat my eyelashes, and ask to visit him. Then when he’s in front of me I start swinging.” you punched your own hand for good measure. 

“I’m pretty sure you have to be a relative to visit someone in jail.” Eddie said. “And I’m not exactly itching to see him again, even if you decide to start a fight.”

“Okay, so my car is now on.” you said, on a roll now. “Hear me out, Eddie. You and I go to the courthouse right now and get married- I said hear me out, I’m not done-. I take your last name, use that to get into the prison to visit your dad, and then I can beat him up. I leave, we get divorced, we split with all of our own shit since we don’t have kids or shared property. Easy.”

Eddie rubbed his cheek as he laughed. “Bad idea, you’d be stuck with my last name. Munson doesn’t really get you anywhere in this town.”

“‘Lipton’ isn’t exactly doing me any favors either.” you pointed out. “Go big or go home, Eddie.”

“You are home.” he motioned to the trailer.

You weren’t, and you didn’t think you’d ever be again. 

“So, is that a no on marriage?” you asked, leaning close to him with your hand over your heart. You gave him your best pout. “I’m heartbroken.” 

“You were only going to marry me to get to my dad.” He gives you a playful shove away from him. 

“Yeah, but you’d be a bonus.” you said, blurting out the words without thinking. Ah, fuck, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. Flirting was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. You had made the decision a while ago that it was a bad idea. 

If he turned you down, it could be awkward and that could fuck up your chance to save him. If he dated you and it went badly that would make your chances worse. 

Focus on the mission, and not the way Eddie sounds when he laughs or how impossibly pretty his eyes are get your shit together and stop that-

“Nice to know you think I’m such a prize.” Eddie said casually, maybe a little too casually for how he usually talked. 

“When we divorce you can use that to fuel your music. I look forward to hearing the break-up album.” You tried to smooth your genuine flirting over by committing to the bit. 

“If I ever sell out, I’ll write our divorce album.” Eddie replied. “Until then, I’ll stick with singing about Hell and demons and references to my campaigns.” 

You don’t know why the idea of him writing songs about his campaigns made your stomach explode with butterflies, but it did. Maybe it was because you were now part of the campaigns and knowing that made you feel special. Like you were actually a part of something, part of him. 

Stop that. 

“Oh shit, I was actually doing something.” you realized and shook your head. “Right, I wasn’t just sitting here for fun. I had to go get groceries.” 

“That would explain why you were sitting in here when I found you.” Eddie agreed. “Do you... Want company?”

He wanted to go grocery shopping with you? That surprised you a lot. It almost felt domestic-

“Yeah, sure.” you agreed, pushing any other thoughts out of your head. “I need you to come anyway.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, you showed me how to start the car but you didn’t tell me how to turn it off.” 

Eddie laughed and hopped out of the car so that you could scoot back into the driver's seat. He hopped in next to you and it felt like things were swapped now. You had spent weeks in his passenger seat and now he was sitting in yours. 

If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you were tempted to slap a BABY ON BOARD sticker on the back of your car. 

As you pulled out of the trailer park, Eddie rummaged around his jacket and pulled out a cassette. 

“Radio’s broke.” you warned as he stuck the tape in and pushed play. To your surprise, music started playing through the speakers. 

“Tape player isn’t.” he said, looking proud of himself. “You can keep this one.”

“Keep...?” you asked. He’d loaned to tapes before, but that was always with the promise you’d return them. 

“Yeah, I already have all these songs.” Eddie fidgeted with one of his rings casually. “I thought you might need something to fill the silence. You know, since you’re always coming over to listen to music with me.”

You really did, the quiet of being home alone had been grating on you and you had been spending as much time as you could with Eddie at his place. 

“Is this your way of giving me a hint that I’ve overstayed my welcome?” you asked wryly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought. 

“No! No, not that.” Eddie said quickly. “No, uh... I just thought you’d like these songs. You told me you liked a few of them.”

“So... you made me a mixtape?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your brain was screaming. 

“I had some time to kill, and you were complaining about not having anything to listen to so...” he shrugged. 

Maybe you’d ask him to marry you for real. You didn’t even had a tape player, or anything other than your car to listen to it but you didn’t care.

Next up, get a tape player for Emergency Vecna Use. And batteries. All the batteries. You added to the endless list of to-do’s to prepare you for Hawkins High’s Spring Break. 

“Thank you.” you said, feeling genuinely touched that he went out of his way to do that for you. “Really. I’ll listen to it until it disintegrates.” 

“I’ll make you a new one when that happens.” Eddie promised. 

Conversations drifted back into easy territory after that. Hellfire, dungeons and dragons, comics, work. It felt so easy talking to him in these moments when it was just the two of you. It had been so long since that first disastrous hang out session, but somehow he’d still let you keep hanging out. 

You wished that things could be different.

For now, you just decided to do what you did best when hanging out alone with him. You pretended that your ID was legitimate, that you were some vague relative of his drug supplier, and that you two could be normal friends, doing normal things. 

For now, that would have to be enough. 

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