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sapphosclosefriend · 1 year ago

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- Money, Power, Glory pt 2 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: your first time at the Romanoff household starts off more than well. Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N=56, R=24), very brief drinking (N), making out, SMUT, dry humping, face riding, 69ing, tit fucking, brief cum eating (R).

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Sorry for the longest wait ever, chapter 3 should be basically ready to go, so I'll dedicate myself to writing the Christmas special in the meantime! Thanks so much to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link for being so amazing 💕 As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

You tried so hard to keep your wandering eyes from selfishly focusing on her hands as she poured herself a glass of whiskey by the small corner bar in her living room, but you just couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful sight in front of you. You could see the tension in her casual standing as she finished making herself a drink, before walking over to the couch and sitting down next to you, too far away for your bodies to touch but close enough to suggest her intent to make it happen. You couldn't keep your lips from slightly curling up at her eyes, behind the glass of expensive liquor, constantly moving, not as sneakily as she thought, to the small snippet of thighs that was being revealed by your dress naturally riding up a bit thanks to your crossed legs.

She thought she was going to be stronger than that, stronger than most, yet there she was, with a tent already starting to form in her pants at the sight of a beautiful young woman all dressed up for her, sitting on her couch only waiting to be taken by her. She felt like a hormonal teenager at the thought of how easily you had started to affect her. She wasn't exactly a playboy, but she'd seen and been with her fair share of women in her life, yet the simple sight of you, sitting while turned towards her, showing off your legs and hips and chest, only made her mouth drier the more she drank. She had downed her glass in one go by the time her eyes were able to leave your body and, in the brief seconds that seemed to have lasted hours, she had been able to explore every inch of you she could have laid her gaze on, leaving her only wanting for more.

“Would you like to talk for a bit?”

Your words, spoken so casually in contrast to her almost spiraling thoughts, pulled her eyes to your face. You were smiling politely, yet sincerely, at her. You almost felt bad for putting an end to the amusing sight of her getting herself more and more flustered, but you selfishly needed to, if not to know more about her, at least to get started as soon as possible. You were hoping that your poker face was good enough to only display your faux calmness and hide the turmoil of emotions you were feeling at being face to face with her, so close you would’ve been able to feel her touch if only you moved your leg one small bit.

“Do you usually do that?”

She tried to regain what composure she had left by trying to engage in the casual chatting you had initiated as she leaned to put down her empty glass on the coffee table. You had declined her polite offer for a drink of your own, but started to regret your decision at her husky voice and the sight of her sharp jawline and lean neck getting exposed as she moved to settle down the expensive glass, making you feel your cheeks getting slightly warmer and your heartbeat faster for a second.

“It's not necessary, it's just to let you know that we can, if you want. And yes, apparently, a little ramble can help destress just as much”

By the time you had finished speaking, a smirk was gracing her lips, making her appearance seem much closer to the usual confident one you had always seen in her pictures and wiping away almost all traces of the small, brief panic you had just gotten a glimpse of.

“So they treat you like a therapist”

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the exact same words uttered by multiple of your friends in the past. She was right, though. Surprisingly enough, one of the main skills you absolutely needed to have, and that your agent couldn’t stop reminding you of at first, was that of listening. Keeping updated on the news, always reading and being able to hold a proper conversation were definitely important, but never as critical as always being willing to listen for as long as needed and to indulge in any issue presented. It didn’t matter how much you didn’t care or what pieces of shits were talking to you, their problems were the greatest ones in the world and the only ones a simple girl like you could’ve ever had on her mind. Or at least that’s what they needed to believe.

“Sometimes. I guess that they like therapy with a little more kick at the end of the session”

You tried to be just a little more playful, hoping to get her to relax and feel like she could open up in case she wanted to. Her brief chuckle warmed your heart at its unrestrained nature and made it impossible for you to keep yourself from ogling at her as she swiftly ran her hand through her gray hair to get it back out of her face after she had briefly lost her composure. Her attention was back on your face as she found you beaming at her with your lower lip caught in your teeth to try, in vain, to hold back a big smile that threatened to come out at her beauty. A strange mix of sweet hunger, so tender it almost weirded her out, started to come to the surface as her eyes locked with your young and almost innocent ones, as alluring as the most dangerous siren's. If she had to be honest, she kind of felt like an asshole for wanting to jump right into the more intimate part of the night, overlooking your kind offer to let her vent, but got reassured once she finally noticed your slightly quickened breathing and fingers fidgeting with your dress as you leaned towards her a little bit.

“It’s been a pretty rough week. Thank you for coming”

She tried to acknowledge your availability while she was still in full control of her own mind, because now she knew that, as soon as she would have gotten a taste of you, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself anymore.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to be here if it means I can help you out”

You tried so hard to keep your voice from trembling too pathetically and ignore her darkening eyes boring into you, but the heavenly sight in front of you, and the slight straining in her pants, only made your cheeks grow warmer at the excitement you tried to contain that made you feel like a foolish schoolgirl.

“What can I do, Ms Romanoff?”

Her jaw clenched as your hand gently fell on a way too safe spot on her thigh, right above her knee, miles away from where you both truly wanted it to get.

“You can call me Natasha”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from your lips, slightly apart, a sign of your collected stance starting to crumble, that only called her more intensely as you wet them before unconsciously biting your lower one as anticipation ate you up more and more, making your hand slightly tighten on her thigh.

“What do you want me to do, Natasha?”

This time, as you almost whispered the words, your weak gaze succumbed to the seduction of her lips as she slowly inched closer to you, hoping to get rid of the space cruelly dividing you two and finally get lost in the pleasure she so desperately wanted to reach. In that moment she felt as if she needed nothing more than the feeling of your lips on hers, even though she knew that as soon as her favor would have been granted she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from trying to get more and more of you. She had almost reached her final destination, her gates to heaven, when you suddenly turned your head a little bit, making her lips land on the corner of your mouth. She couldn’t stop a deep grumble from coming to the surface, but barely had the time to feel the initial frustration of being denied what she wanted, before you hand moved in the direction of her center, still way too far away for her liking, but close enough for the warmth of your skin through the fabric on her to make her twitch in her pants, and your lips started gently kissing her neck, leaving her even more in need of some relief, if that was even possible. Her panting in your ear as your hand moved closer and closer to where she needed it the most made goosebumps grow on your arms and you couldn’t stop a muffled whimper in her neck when she grasped your waist with one hand, touching you for the first time. You wanted, no, needed to feel her, but, for the sake of teasing her some more, you swiftly skipped her crotch to sneak your hand under her sweater and touch her bare stomach, pathetically mewling against her throat at the way her hand moved under your ass to pull you even closer to her, making you almost sit in her lap. You were both a panting mess and, after some wiggling and squirming from her trying to keep herself from ripping your dress with her bare hands, you ended up fully on top of her, straddling her lap while still on your knees, resisting her hands on your hips trying to make you properly sit on her clothed erection. It was only once she finally gave up and ended up moving downward to bunch your dress over your hips and grab your ass that you finally fully sat down on her, letting her feel your covered center on her.

“Fuck!”

Her voice and the buck of her hips into you sent a strong shiver through your whole body and a pang of arousal in your lower stomach. Leaning your forehead against hers, you looked deep into her eyes as you grounded your hips into her hard on, starting with a low rhythm that easily got the older woman panting and desperately grabbing your hips to try to make your movements quicken. The rough surface of her boxers and your underwear did wonders at heightening the pleasure you both already felt and in no time you could feel the fabric against yourself dampening up from your arousal, thanks to the way her covered cock perfectly hit your clit.

The sudden movement of her arms, slithering around your torso to keep you from moving away, and her hips thrusting more and more up into you, made you take pity on her and you finally started gradually speeding up your movements. The moan she let out once you grounded harder into her took your breath away and got a louder one out of you at the hard grasp of her hands on your waist, making you lose track of the speed of your own hips, seemingly moving on their own accord to only make you both feel as good as possible. The older woman found herself enamored at the sinful sight of the black fabric of your underwear glistening a bit under the warm light of her living room and creating a small damp patch on her pants. For a second she couldn’t help but find herself wondering if your displays of pure bliss were genuine or if she was witnessing a thoroughly curated act you used with all of your clients, but she decided to trust you and the whiny moans coming from deep within you and solidly planted her feet on the ground to easily thrust up into you and meet your movements.

The almost animalistic way in which you were dry humping each other was making you lose your mind, even more so at the other woman cursing under her breath and the sudden slap she landed on your ass, making you moan loudly as your head fell back, exposing your neck to her and making it hard for her to respect your no marking rule and latch onto the soft skin she suddenly needed to taste. Natasha completely lost her composure at the sight of your face, a perfect display of pure ecstasy, and you hips erratically moving to take your own pleasure from her and got a hold of your hips in a way that definitely must’ve hurt a bit, but maybe not as much as she thought, according to your breathless moan at the action, to press you even harder on her, getting herself impossibly close to her orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum”

She was looking at your center moving over her clothed cock once her panting words got your attention to her face and, finally wanting to indulge her initial wish you still hadn’t granted her, you moved one of your hands from her shoulders to the nape of her neck, getting her attention back on you, and leaned in, stopping for a second and only a breath away, before finally pressing your lips on hers, making her moan in the kiss at finally being able to taste you, even if only for a moment. The hard orgasm hit her so hard she had to move away to lean her head back, closing her eyes at the high levels of ecstasy you made her reach, and grunt loudly every time her hips thrusted up hard into you on their own accord while shooting string after string of cum into her own underwear. The sinfully beautiful sight of her face as she came and the veins of her neck, more defined than ever, sent a painful twinge of arousal to your core as you moved more and more slowly over her as she came down from her orgasm, stopping only once she hissed at her sensitive cock meeting your center with one final thrust of hers.

“Holy shit”

Her head was still leaning back on the edge of the couch and her eyes were still closed as she murmured the words, but she opened them once you pressed one last kiss to her lips, looking more inviting than necessary as she breathed through them while she caught her breath. For a second she found herself lost in the sight of your exposed lower half, clad only by a black thong that barely covered your core and traces of clear slick on the inside of your thighs. Your chest was about to spill out of your dress as you heaved, your hair was a bit messier than earlier and your hands were still tightly gripping her shoulders for dear life and that’s when she realized, after her post orgasm haziness started disappearing, that you hadn’t cum yet.

One of her hands finally left its death grip on your hips, leaving behind a delicious ache on your skin, as she reached for your face to swipe her thumb over your warm cheek before gently cradling it and leaning in to peck your lips, waiting for your approval of her action and receiving it at the slight drag of your tongue over her lower one. As soon as she opened her mouth you were on her, kissing her with all your might and threading your fingers through her glorious hair to make sure to keep her as close as possible. You were still on edge from the high levels of arousal still pumping intensely through you and, as they blurred your mind, also thanks to her tongue easily dominating yours, they prevented you from registering her movements, which you noticed only by the time she had positioned you just how she wanted.

You ended up straddling her, as she now lay down on the couch, while you still made out like your life depended on it and your hips unconsciously tried to find some relief by slowly moving over her lower abdomen. She soon ceased your movements, though, and gently started pushing you from the back of your thighs until you had wiggled closer and closer to her face. Standing on your knees while hovering over her torso, the sight of her lips, swollen by the intense kissing and almost curled into a small smirk, and her hands gently caressing your thighs almost made them buckle at the imminent moment. For a second, all the hints of playfulness were gone from her eyes and got replaced by hard seriousness, as she nodded once at you and waited for your own nod of approval, that tried unsuccessfully to hide your enthusiasm and need, before smiling softly at you. It's only once she had made sure that you were fine with her wish that she slithered down a bit until you were right by her neck, close enough for her to smell the arousal that you couldn't contain anymore. You were driving her insane and, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in her pants from her previous orgasm and her still semi hard cock, she slowly started moving her hands over your body, over your thighs, your ass, your back, until she was swiftly moving your soaked underwear to the side, moaning at the sight of your exposed pussy and the fabric briefly sticking to it because of your wetness. You looked like a dream to her, looking down at her with pure anticipation as you tried to keep your breathing at bay, and all she needed in that moment was only to see you crumble just for her.

Her hands finally got back to the apex of your thigh and, after taking a secure hold on both of them, she gave one small push to make you lower yourself on her. She knew what you wanted and she wanted it too, all of it immediately, but the smooth skin of your inner thighs, still glistening, did nothing but made you look like an absolute goddess to her, and who was she to deprive you of the adequate worship you deserved? Once her lips left a small peck on your soft skin, still close enough to your center to make your hips buckle a little and your breathing hitch, the older woman's hunger got the best of her and, while still trying to control herself enough to unfortunately leave no trace of herself behind, she got lost in the plumpness of your inner thighs. She would've gladly spent hours kissing and very lightly scraping her teeth over the velvety skin if it meant hearing you yelp over and over as you tried to keep yourself upright.

Your mind was foggy and all you needed to clear it was her mouth just a bit higher. You knew at least a part of her was trying to get you to your breaking point, but she thankfully stopped her cruel actions once your hand suddenly flew to her hair to try to keep yourself standing, getting her attention to your closed eyes and shaky breathing. Natasha wished she could've said that the reason behind her stopping her torturous teasing was to indulge you in the pleasure you deserved, but the truth was that the selfish need to see you broken because of her was way too intense for her to keep herself back any longer.

The moment her lips left your skin you felt some sort of relief at being able to properly breath once again, but almost missed her teasing once she immediately dove into your pussy, drawing a breathy moan out of you before you could contain yourself.

“Fuck, you taste good”

Natasha couldn't help herself from briefly overlooking your pleasure to randomly explore your core as she pleased, getting hungrier each time she discovered a new spot that got your thighs trembling over her. She was the thirstiest woman on the planet and you were the most gratifying oasis she could've asked to encounter. For the first time in your career, you felt embarrassed of the extreme pleasure you were feeling and its unrestrained displays you could barely contain, but the swift movements of her tongue and lips, clear sign of someone who knew very well what they were doing, were getting you way too close to your peak in such a short period of time. By the time she gave some mercy to your clit and moved downwards to enter your aching hole with her tongue, her nose bumped right on your sensitive bean, making it impossible for you to stop your hips from slightly moving over her face to heighten the heavenly feeling. You tried to keep your loud moans at bay by biting down on your index finger, but foolishly defeated yourself by looking down at the older woman, finding her hooded eyes already on you, as she moaned against your folds and tightened her hold on your thighs at the sight of your watery, desperate eyes, drawing a loud whine deep from you.

You wanted more, you needed more, so you suddenly lifted yourself off of her, ignoring her frustrated grunt, to turn around and place yourself back over her lips before immediately starting to unbutton her pants, hearing her sighing and cursing to herself at the prospect of your touch directly on her. Her sticky boxers were an absolute mess, and you tried to ignore her mouthwatering cum on them to get her cock fully free from the fabric. The woman under you, resuming her mission to make you cum, finally got your attention away from her length standing proud in front of you. You tried to distract yourself from your impending peak by finally wrapping your hand around her and licking the clear precum oozing out of the head of her cock, feeling her moaning right against you at the small bits of stimulation you were giving her. You truly realized you had been lazily sucking her head for quite a bit, your mind completely taken over by her perfect ministrations between your legs, only once her hands tightened their hold on your thighs so much you were sure there was definitely going to be at least some bruising the next day, and she couldn’t hold back her groans anymore, shooting such delicious sparkles of pleasure through you thanks to the vibrations of her voice on your core. You wished you could have pleased her in a much better way with your mouth, selfishly wanting to feel her in your throat as well, but the orgasm that was seconds away from crashing down on you finally made it impossible for you to hold back your moans, making your composure crumble once and for all and finally gracing her ears with such heavenly sounds that quickly got her equally close even without your touch on her anymore. You finally snapped for the first time of the night with her tongue on your clit and her hands almost ripping your expensive, flimsy underwear in half as she tightly held it to pull you even more flush against her mouth, so desperate to taste your heavenly essence she would’ve almost felt embarrassed for it if she was in any way in her right mind.

Your legs were shaky and, anytime you thought you had finally caught your breath, the sight of her hard cock in front of your face, right on the brink of another orgasm, made the air get caught in your throat all over again at its sight gracing your no longer fogged up eyes, now able to properly appreciate it. You had to be the one to stop Natasha, still lazily tasting as much of you as she could, and lift yourself off of her, muffling an almost whiny sound of frustration of hers with a quick kiss, which you deepened as you grabbed the neck of her sweater to make her move to a sitting position. One of her hands immediately moved to your chest and finally indulged herself, groping your boob a bit more firmly the more you hummed in the kiss at the beautiful sensation of being wanted by her. Feeling her trying to pull you in more and more to make you sit back in her lap, right over her thigh, you unfortunately had to break the perfect kiss.

“I wanna make you cum”

Your sweet voice and pretty eyes as you mumbled the words while looking up at her made her twitch at the mere thought of her cum possibly painting your skin and you could almost see the thoughts quickly racing behind her eyes as she decided where exactly she wanted to do it. Your pretty face admittedly looked just too inviting for it, the thought having graced her mind only moments after you greeted her at the door, but her thoughts couldn’t stop from going back to the sinful sight of your cleavage so perfectly on display for her yet still way too covered for her liking. Without uttering a word she reached for your back to slowly pull down the small zipper while leaving pecks over the top of your chest and collarbone, slowing her moving hand every time you shakily gasped in order to never stop hearing the beautiful noises you made that went straight to her cock each time.

“I wanna fuck these tits”

Her words, spoken more to herself than to you, only drove you more insane for her and clouded your mind as she pushed you to lie on the couch, leaning over you between your legs as she hurriedly pulled your dress down and took off your bra. She left the dress below your torso, not bothering to slip the now useless fabric fully off of you, and leaving it bunched at your waist to expose your chest and core to her. She wouldn't have had the chance to do it even if she wanted to, as her cock bumped with your naked center every time she moved while hungrily kissing your boobs. Your hand on her head as she sucked your nipple got her attention to your beautiful face as you looked at her with hooded eyes while biting your lip. That was it, she couldn't keep herself back anymore, she needed to cum and she needed to do it all over you right then and there.

Your heart skipped a beat as she moved over you to straddle your torso and took your breath away at her beauty as she loomed over you and let her spit fall on her cock before pumping it. You couldn't help but stare in awe at the lewd action, making her hum at you staring at her lips with your mouth open.

“Now that's interesting”

Your slightly embarrassed look at her new discovery only amused her even more and, gently holding your chin, she managed to haze your already obedient mind even more as she spoke once again.

“Open up”

You immediately opened your mouth and pushed your tongue out a little, waiting with closed eyes to be graced by the goddess on top of you, but felt slight disappointment when her hand ended up leaving your face and she chuckled through her nose.

“Maybe later”

Damn her. You shot your eyes open at her words and you couldn't help but pout slightly, before reluctantly nodding obediently at her, secretly savoring the “good girl” coming from her perfect lips. You couldn't even fathom the power the older woman already had over you and could only lay limp to let her position her cock between your boobs before grabbing each one and pressing them on either side of her own length. The moment her hips began to move and she threw her head back with a loud moan your breath was knocked away from you and you were left to stare in awe at her beautiful face taken over by pleasure and the sight of her cock moving on your chest, looking way too delicious to ignore. She knew she was barely going to last seconds, but she felt no embarrassment as her mind was completely taken over by ecstasy. Seeing your tongue out, waiting for the head of her cock every time she thrusted forward, almost got her to her breaking point and your eyes meeting hers, beaming at her as she took her own pleasure from your body, finally made her reach her peak. As soon as her orgasm suddenly hit her she quickly pumped her cock with her hand to finally shoot her cum all over your tits, groaning as you intently kept looking at her as she breathlessly moaned each time more of the white fluid hit your skin.

She felt almost shocked by just how hard she came, certainly the hardest in a very long time, but barely had the time to recover at all before the sight of you scooping some of her cum from your boob with your fingers and sucking them clean with a languid moan left her speechless.

It was going to be a long long night…and hopefully the beginning of an even longer acquaintance.

Part 3

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #marvel #mcu

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wereallydobevibing · 7 months ago

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Too Young | John Price x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Age Gap

“Welcome home, Captain.”

As he falls back in his seat, his gaze lifts to meet yours - his little muse behind a marble counter, his favorite bartender at his favorite bar.

“That’s John to you, sweetheart,” He says, and he watches with satisfaction as you wordlessly pour out his usual drink without even having to ask what he was having.

You were a young girl, early twenties, working towards your bachelors at the nearest university, but before that, you’d gone to trade school. You were a hard worker; doing hair in the morning, attending classes in the noon, closing the bar at night, studying any minute that was free.

I’ll breathe when I have everything I want, you told him one night, when he noticed how your shoulders seemed to be heavy with the weight of your profusion of responsibilities. He wished he could help you carry some of them, or at least blow some air into those lungs that seemed to collapse whenever finals came around.

John admired you – sweet, smart, and focused. He would’ve liked to have you on his Taskforce if that’d been that path that you chose, but, for the sake of flirting, perhaps bartending was the better option.

He’ll miss you when you graduate and go off to start a new chapter in your life.

You set the drink down on the counter, pushing it forwards and leaning your weight on your elbows. It was a slow night, but you figured now that John Price was here to pay you his company, time would tick faster than you wanted it to.

The first hour and a half of his visit is a basic conversation – how was deployment, how does it feel to be home, how long before his next call in? He talks a little about his team – you’ve heard about “Soap” and “Ghost” and “Gaz” many times before, Price only ever allows you to know them by their callsigns, though, for privacy's sake, and only tells you very minor details. But after one or two glasses, Price allows himself to be free of his professional nature. His 141 men know

“How come you never bring your boys around here, Captain?”

“John,” You’re leaning so closely, he’s able to flick your nose as he corrects you. Not too hard, but very much playful. “And if I brought my boys around here, they’d never leave. Soap might steal my favorite girl.”

“Your favorite girl is too busy to be stolen, John,” You remind him, and you don’t say I’m too busy trying to give myself to you.

Closing time comes all too quickly, as you figured it would. On a Monday night, there are generally very few customers, and you’re able to start your side work at exactly eleven o’clock. John sticks around as you clean up and count the register, offering his company. Being that he was such a regular, he even knows where to find the broom and shortens your to-do list by sweeping the floor.

This is your favorite part, when you lock up the door and begin your walk home with Captain John Price at your side, allowing you to hook your arm through his. Like a gentleman, he’s always happy to walk you home.

“No boyfriend, yet, [Y/N]?” He says, lighting a cigar, “No one to tell me off for walking so close to their girl?”

You giggle, “No boyfriend. If I did, though, I don’t think you’d be one to be worried about it. Unless it was that guy you mentioned earlier – Soap? Maybe you could introduce us?”

“He’s too much fun, I think,” John sniggered.

“Are you saying I’m too serious?”

“Serious enough, fun enough. Soap is too much fun.”

“Aww,” You feign a pout, “You don’t want me to like him, do you?”

As you finally approach your apartment door, John lightly shoves you toward it. He pulls the cigar away from his lips, leaning against the wall with a smirk.

“You can have that one if you want, love,” he says, “Don’t come bothering me when you’re with him, though. Can’t have both.”

“No, I couldn’t,” You agree, you gesture to your apartment, “You won’t let me let you in.”

He hums, watching you unlock and push open the door. You lift your eyes to gaze up at him through your lashes, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“Come have a glass with me, John, I can bartend for you here, too.”

The back of his hand reached out, stroking the subtle skin of your cheek. He would love to come inside and know the structure of your home, and the decorations that would be a complimentary extension of your personality. When it came to you, he was Pandora and you were his box.

You were a beautiful girl, and the thought of having your company outside of your work hours was enticing. He wanted to know you like the back of his own hand, he wanted to see what was inside this box, but John knew better than to cross this line – that line being your doorway.

Oh, how he wished he was at least ten years younger.

“You know I can only go so far with you, love,” He says, taking another draw from his cigar. “Your doormat is the limit.”

It’s not the first time you heard that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. As mentioned earlier, you were an ambitious girl; you were often berated in your early childhood by your mother for trying to get away with the same stuff over and over and over again until you finally learned the secret to getting away with your innocent little crimes successfully.

As you said once before, you’ll breathe when you have everything you ever wanted.

Blaze

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#john price x reader #john price #simon riley #kyle garrick #john mactavish #soap #ghost #x reader #call of duty #cod #modern warfare

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yunyunrin · 5 months ago

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Prologue: Holy Fool

genre : horror, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, enemies to lovers, alternate universe, slow burn

pairing : ot8!demonateez x angel!reader (future chapters) (gender neutral reader)

chapter warnings : mentions of the following: abandonment, sexual assault, harassment, murder, alcoholism, abuse. side character death, slight descriptions of drowning. main character death (reader, but you come back to life don’t worry) suicide

WC — around 2.3K

MDNI

A/N — please read at your own discretion!!!! the prologue contains so so many heavy topics so please read the warnings!

A/N 2 — thank you so much for the love on the original masterpost! it gives me a lot of motivation to write this and bring my idea into fruition! feel free to send an ask if you have any suggestions or would like to be tagged! if you��re leaving suggestions please be kind! i have experience in writing but it has been a while since i’ve written a story like this. thank you so much and i hope you all enjoy <3 i can’t wait to show you all what i have in mind for this story!

The ache in your feet from standing for the past twelve hours is slowly being replaced by the harsh cold air hitting your body as you speed walk back to your shared apartment with your best friend Dina. You will likely regret that when you get back to your apartment, but currently, you just want to get out of the dark city.

Your apartment isn’t in the safest part of Seoul, but it is what you and your friend could afford. You went straight to work, something you often regret. Now that you’re the age you would have graduated with your bachelors had you went to university, you know it is too late. You chose your fate, and now you just have to live your life.

You’re back before you know it, your daydreaming seemingly making your days go by faster than they should be. Furthermore, you fumble with your keys due to the chilliness that has now settled in with the night. You walk in to your apartment, the eerie feeling settling in.

“Dina,” You say with your regular voice, hoping that your cheery best friend would walk in from her room. She never appears, so you call her name again, louder with a sense of urgency.

“Dina,” Again, your friend gives no answer. You walk to her door, it is cracked but not enough for you to see fully into her room.

You knock on her door a couple of times, holding the door knob, so your knocking wouldn’t fully open the door. “Dina, if you don’t do anything that indicates you are here, I’m going to come in.”

You slowly open the door, your eyes widening at the scene in front of you. Your friend is laying on the ground, pale, with her mouth ajar. Like something had sucked the soul out of her.

You rush to her immediately, holding her head in your lap as her name falls out of your lips with an urgency. You’re feeling for a pulse around her wrist, to which there is none. “Dina, please wake up,”

You pick up your phone to call the emergency services, your pleas from earlier having fell on deaf ears. Thinking to yourself, this is one of the worst things that has ever happened to you.

“Hello, this is Jenny with the emergency services, what is going on?” The voice of the women on the other end of the line seems to wake you up out of the sort of trance you have been in for the past couple of minutes. “Hello?” She says again, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, yes. I need you to come to this address. I just got home from work to my roommate passed away on the floor. I checked for a pulse, she didn’t have one. I need you to send emergency personnel as soon as possible.” You say, in all but one breath, your impending panic attack is settling in.

“Are there any signs of an intruder? I’m sending someone over now.” The lady on the other end of the line says to you.

“No, there isn’t.” You respond back to her, your voice becoming faint.

“Stay there, the medical responders will be there in 15 minutes.” The lady says to you, asking you other questions that you can’t register in your mind.

“I’m sorry. This is the last thing that I can handle. I will leave the door closed, but unlocked. I’m leaving.” You say to the lady before hanging up the phone, not giving her the chance to convince you to stay. A lot of the times you were easily gullible, this is one of the times you don’t need to be.

“Goodbye Dina, I love you. Thank you for everything, also I’m going to take your keys for a little while.” You say to your friend before putting a pillow under her head and leaving the apartment to go to the parking garage, with Dina’s keys in hand.

You start up the car, a peer is about twelve minutes away according to the GPS. The first responders will be too worried to think about you when your dead friend is why they are there.

It is pretty late, so no one should be on the peer, you think to yourself. Putting a plan in action for something you have wanted to do ever since you were twelve years old.

You begin to drive, going where the GPS takes you. You have come to realize that you have heavy feet, getting to the beach where the peer is located in eight minutes instead of twelve.

You hesitate to put your foot on the gas pedal, having put the car in park. Not only that, but you get a surge of flashbacks from your early life.

You’re walking home from school, as you make your way to your driveway you notice something strange. Your mother’s car is not parked there, and she definitely should be home by now.

You walk into your home to see the whole house a mess, and your oldest sister, who was freshly eighteen, laying on the floor with your dad on top of her, with his hands around her throat. Immediately you run over and pull your father off her, knowing that if you were just a minute later you would have been too late. As the hands of your father leave your sister Mimi’s throat, you see the life that was just exiting her reenter her body.

“The bitch left.” Your father mutters before walking off, the smell of alcohol is permanent on his breath. You look at your sister with desperation in your eyes. You didn’t want to believe that your mother had left you both with your monster of a father. Mimi nods at you, confirming your fear. Your mother left you with a monster.

The rest of that night is spent staying in your room to escape the wrath of your father. You didn’t eat that night, you were lucky that your room was connected to Mimi’s by a bathroom so you didn’t have to wait to use it. Your sister had kept her side locked, you craved her company at that time. You were scared out of your mind, but you understood.

You then woke up to more things breaking, you walk out to see that your father had just exited your sister’s room. Walking into her room and you see no sign of your sister. Drawers opened, ransacked closet, piggy banks emptied and an open window. Your sister left during the night, likely when the alcohol had finally put your father to sleep.

Not wanting to be subjected to your fathers' wrath, you run out of the house and go straight to school. No fear in mind of being scolded due to your lack of a uniform, no fear in mind of being made fun of for your messy hair or bad breath because you skipped brushing your teeth that morning. The only thing you feared at that moment was your drunk and angry father.

Every day since your sister and mother had essentially abandoned the home, your life was hell on earth. He was drunk and if he wasn’t drunk, he was at work; if he wasn’t at work he was drunk.

You had gotten into a routine, you knew your father’s schedule. You’d make sure he was fed, you’d eat a little yourself, and then go to your room to do anything else you needed to do.

Ever since that day, the house has been cleaned and reorganized. You tried to make it as similar as it was before. Something about it just eased your mind, hoping that you’d wake up from your nightmare. That you’d wake up twelve years old, with your mother and sister still in the house.

That was never the case. You catch yourself more often than not finding solace in your sister’s room. You used to go into your mother and father’s room. That room had been abandoned since she left.

You had come to regret doing that, though. One night your father had woken up while you were laying down on her side of the bed, trying to feel close to her.

The alcohol had not worn off his system, and that night, at that moment you had realized you had grown into the looks of your mother. No matter how much you begged, no matter how many times you screamed that you weren’t her, no matter how many times your name left your lips in a hope to snap your father out of his trance, it never worked.

For years, it went on like that, as you got older you found ways to get out of your house so you couldn’t be near him. Faking your age so you could get overnight shifts then going to school the next morning, barely sleeping, but it was better than being home with him.

You have seen many things since working at a convenience store in a bad part of town, you’ve seen people get harassed, you’ve seen car accidents, you’ve seen people get stabbed.

Occasionally, you wonder to yourself if it is bad that you’d rather watch them go through that than go home.

You had grown to resent your whole family during that time for different reasons. You resented your sister for leaving you alone, your mother for not taking you and Mimi with her. Both of them for not trying to contact you. Your father for hurting you in ways no father should.

All of that you had bottled up once you turned eighteen. The only light in your life had been Dina. She kept you afloat. Made sure you finished school, she’d do your homework to make sure you’d pass classes. She’d bring you food because you often forgot to eat.

Dina didn’t have the best life growing up either, you had come to find out. She would regularly stay with you during your shifts at the convenience store, and you can’t count on your hands how many times you and her would sleep in her car so you both could escape everything.

Perhaps that is why Dina and you had bonded so closely. You knew what each other went through and you had never judged each other.

When you and Dina turned eighteen, you both moved away and got jobs. You found a roomy apartment that was cheap. Sure, it was in a bad part of town and not the prettiest, but it was the apartment you shared since the day you both abandoned your previous lives.

Nothing about it had changed until today. You have gone through the worst things imaginable, but never without Dina. You can’t fathom living without her. So now you are here. In her car at the beach, about to drive through a peer.

You put the car into drive, your foot still on the break. “If I don’t floor it now, I am never going to get the courage to do it again.” You say to yourself.

During your flashbacks, tears had started falling down your face and your nose had begun to run. You wiped your eyes and your nose with your sleeves and floored the gas pedal.

No one was on the peer and if they were, they had moved to the side. Everything happened instantly. The sound of the wood of the peer breaking on the car as you went through the peer was enough to bust your eardrums. The impact of falling into the water was enough to break every bone in your body.

You had passed out on the impact, only waking up once you tasted the salty water of the sea enter your mouth. You’re struggling for air, but you know that in a couple of seconds there will be no space to try to breathe that last bit of oxygen anyway.

A light with a golden aura shines beside you, but the rising water level has caused you not to care. Your last thought was wondering why the hell you drove off a peer when you are so afraid of big bodies of water. You guess it is because there is no escape.

You feel something like entering your mouth that is not water but quickly that feeling is replaced with the salty water from the ocean. At that moment everything goes still. Death must have taken you now.

It feels a bit weird. Not being able to move, and you can’t open your eyes but in a odd way you can breathe. Death feels so peaceful at this moment. Although, you can hear and that seems to be the only sense that you still have.

There is rustling next to you, and then humming. It sounds similar to that of a lullaby. After a couple of minutes, the humming stops.

“Y/n, you aren’t dead.” A soft voice says to you. You want so badly to open your eyes and look at whoever just said that to you, in your mind thinking that there is no way you are alive right now.

As if whatever told you that you weren’t dead could read your thoughts it says something that eases your mind a bit, “Just rest for right now, everything will be explained later.”

You never liked being in the unknown, so this comforted you. Whatever — or whoever was with you is holding you and rubbing circles on your arms. You slowly drift into sleep, wondering if death was playing tricks on you.

tags

@multifictionx @pre1ttyies

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revelboo · 14 days ago

Note

think my previous ask about how u got my hooked on Skyfire got buried, no worries- think it was Skyfire, u only had 1 chapter for him. might have been ketfire, one of the 'Fire' flyers....

hooked on starscream's inside out as well now too congrats XD

About that….

I’ve only had this blog since the end of September, not even two months, and there’s almost 900 of you guys already and even as fast as I write? Y’all are much faster…

Floating Down The River Pt 2

IDW Skyfire x Reader

• How can one tiny organic be so quick? If you get into the tree line, he’s never catching you, so he tries to herd you away with an outstretched hand. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he growls as you duck under his hand and dart away from the trees right for the river. And then you’re trying to run alongside the bank as he chases. Sees the moment your foot slides in the mud and folds under you, your cry cut off as you hit the churning water and just disappear.

• Shockingly cold, that icy impact with the river knocks the air from your lungs, the current rolling you until you can’t figure out which way is up, can’t breathe as your shoulder and hip smack against the rocky bottom and terror seizes you that you shouldn’t have been so worried about iron giant catching you, because this is worse.

• Where are you? Straddling the river, he plunges both hands in trying to find you while a voice he hates in the back of his processor whispers that the problem just took care of itself. Servos flexing, he brushes something that’s not rock or sand, but loses it. Shifting and dredging his hands until he has you in his servos, lifting you free as you choke and throw up water on him, curling into a little ball of misery that’s icy to the touch. Sodden and shivering uncontrollably, you peer up at him. But all the fight is gone from you. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he says, running a servo along your back. “Just talk.” Technically he was trying to stop you from running to go get your army.

• Sprawled limply in his big hands, you know you should be trying to get away, screaming. Doing something, but you’re just so exhausted. And why would he bother to save you from the river just to squish you like a bug? Eyes closing, you make a little sound in the back of your throat when he nudges you. “You’re not going to try and burrow under my plating are you?” He murmurs, deep voice rumbling through you.

• “Wh-what?” Teeth chattering and miserable, the feel of him exasperatedly venting against you in a wash of warm air almost makes you whimper before he’s shifting you against his throat under his chin. And, oh. He’s warm, shockingly so and you don’t need any urging to leave his hand. You’re pressing yourself into him, feeling the odd give of the metal mesh against you and you both shudder at the contact, you at the warmth and you assume him because of how icy you are.

• Servos lingering to keep you pressed to him, he isn’t entirely expecting for you to murmur a soft ‘thank you’ or to press your face against his throat. Surrendering yourself to his care. He can feel how cold you are, your breathing, and the calming tattoo of your heart against him as he strokes the tip of a servo along your spine and tries to figure out what to do now beyond warming you up. You’re just so tiny, and even though he’s used to being the biggest bot in a room, how long has it been since he’s been able to hold someone? Be needed for more than just his size and strength? “I’m Skyfire,” he says as you shift against him, needing him.

#transformers x reader #skyfire x reader #idw skyfire

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harmonyrae · 1 month ago

Text

Power Couple

CHAPTER 9 - Dirty Work

You can't stop thinking about that night. How intoxicating Sylus was. His aura, his voice, his taste in wine, the conversation. It's definitely making work much harder than it should be...

*NSFW 18+ Content Ahead*

Hazy memories of you and Sylus in the dining room. Candles glowing, the chandelier swinging above you, red wine. You find yourself looking around for the fireplace, you don’t remember there being one in the dining room. The heat was nearly unbearable, sweat dripping down your face, your hair clinging to your neck. You reach for your wine, but before your fingers even touch the glass your core tightens and you can barely breathe.

Your breathing is punctuated and shallow. You throw your head back and before you register what’s happening, a breathless moan leaves your lips. The breathlessness is accompanied by warmth and… pleasure.

You’re finally able to lean back and you look down at the table. How could you forget? You weren’t seated at the table. You were on the table. And you are the meal.

Seeing Sylus’ head between your legs, his hands holding your thighs… The sight is intoxicating, but what he’s doing with his tongue shuts down every thought in your mind. Your toes curl as he traces circles around your clit. He brings a hand down from your thigh and slides a finger into your pussy. You hear him moan your name as his finger swirls and strokes. You arch your back off the table as he slips another finger inside you. He drags his tongue down to drink you in before returning to your swollen clit and sucking, hard. You grab his hair with one hand as Sylus tightens his grip on your thigh and begins thrusting, faster and faster. You slam your other hand down on the table.

Bang

Your eyes fly open.

Bang Bang

“Boss, wake the hell up, we have a problem!” Dorian’s voice is loud and angry.

You stare at your ceiling, breathing heavy. You did not… you absolutely did NOT have a wet dream about Sylus. Of all fucking people. Didn’t you just rip Dorian a new asshole for bringing up the not-date for the 10th fucking time? Jesus. Are you that desperate? You have a vibrator for a reason. It takes care of you just as good as a man. Okay… maybe not “just as good” but pretty damn good.

“Boss! Seriously, you need to wake up!” His voice is getting more irritated.

“I’m awake, just let me get dressed!” You sit up and wipe the sweat from your forehead. You swing your legs off the bed and hurry to your closet to throw on a pair of black sweatpants and a tank top. You just hope whatever this “problem” is, you’ll have a chance to finish getting ready before going out in public.

You swing your bedroom door open and Dorian shoves a folder into your arms. Glancing down you see Ridgeway Liquors stamped on the front.

“Ridgeway burned down this morning.” Dorian turns to land face first on your couch. Grabbing a pillow to cover his head. You flip open the file and start to read.

“Who’d you send to walk the grounds?” Your brain shifts into what Dorian lovingly calls “high-functioning boss bitch mode.” Basically, you’re going to sound like a bitch with no heart, only talk about business and there’s a 95% chance you’re going to hurt someone’s feelings.

“Hugh just got back. He’s writing something up.” Dorian’s voice is muffled by the couch cushions.

“Get your face out of my couch and make me a coffee.” Checking your phone, you see you have almost half a dozen missed calls from the CEO of Ridgeway. Thankfully, when you call he picks up immediately.

“We’re on it, I will have an answer by the end of day. Contractors are working on an estimate. And you’ll get the address for your backup location in the next 2 hours.” Before he has a chance to speak, you info dump Ridgeway in an attempt to dampen the hell storm this has, no doubt, started for Himitsu.

“I want the name of the fucker who lit the match. I want the name of the fucker who gave the order. Hell, I want the name of the gas station attendant who sold the gas to fuel the flames. End of day TODAY or I break the contract.” Click. He hangs up.

“Yep, that stick is still up there.” Dorian snorts at your comment and focuses on foaming the milk for your coffee. You thank him as he sets it down in front of you. You stare at your mug, the largest in your collection with “Best Boss” printed on it. You immediately look up at Dorian.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Dorian sits down across from you, looking at his phone.

Ding

Your phone buzzes with a new message. It’s a picture of a ship with hundreds of containers. Dozens of men cover the boat. You try to zoom in but everything is too pixelated. But there’s a clear logo on the side of the containers. A black bird in a red circle.

“An Onychinus freight ship? The docks are off limits, who took these photos?” Your voice strained as you try to reign in your frustration.

“I’ve had a PI looking into Onychinus for months now. He got these last night. Personally, I don’t think it violates your - so called - deal with Sylus.”

“And if Sylus finds out we have this information?”

“Then we deal with it. Right now, it’s important you know this. Onychinus is bringing new shit into the zone. And they can dispose of things with that ship too.” Dorian rubs the back of his neck.

“Can we focus on one thing at a time please? The Ridgeway issue is more pressing to us. I need the phone number for our contractor. I also need you to find a new site for them to continue their operations as soon as possible.” Dorian nods and stands up from the table. Pacing in front of the windows making call after call.

Ding

A text message, not from your usual phone. You’re not sure why you decided to start carrying around your burner phone. But on days like today you’re glad you do.

(Sylus) They’re serving a Chardonnay at this meeting that tastes like I’m biting into a tree. (You) Wine. That’s a good idea actually. (You) Forget coffee. I definitely need wine at 10am on a Tuesday. (Sylus) Who has you riled up? (You) Besides you? It’s just a normal day in paradise.

You couldn’t tell him anything, but teasing each other via text made you smile. And you needed that, especially today. You sit at your kitchen table for nearly four hours making endless phone calls to get every tiny detail about the fire. You read the reports a second, third, fourth time to make sure you don’t miss anything. You only take a break to make another coffee and eat a banana. Everything is falling into place, but your anxiety is getting worse by the minute. Or maybe that’s the coffee? You’re not sure at this point.

Ding

A text from Dorian. He left about an hour ago to pick up something. You’re hoping this text will confirm delivery.

(Dorian) Delivered. Want me to get started? (You) No. I want to deal with this.

You go to your room to change into black jeans and a fitted black turtleneck. You slick your hair back into a bun and slip on your favorite chunky moto boots. When you don’t get a reply from Dorian you sigh. He always asks, but never listens. You hurry to the elevator and click the basement level button. Show time.

The elevator opens and you’re greeted with the sound of loud thuds and men shouting. You pick up your pace as you head for the door at the end of the all too familiar hallway. The men stationed beside the door give each other a worried look, wondering if they should have intervened when the shouting began. You fling open the door letting it bang against the wall.

Dorian’s fists are bloody and the face of the man cuffed to the chair is already starting to bruise. Dorian looks up at you, his brow furrowed and forehead glistening with sweat. His eyes burn with anger and he doesn’t lower his voice from a shout.

“He’s close. I’ve got this.” You grit your teeth as you watch Dorian hit the man again.

“I’m not telling you shit you fuck!” The man yells before he spits. Saliva and blood splatter against Dorian’s face and Dorian pulls a knife from his belt.

“Stop.” Dorian is inches away from slicing the man's nose off. He slowly turns his head to look at you. “Outside. Now.” Straightening up, Dorian tucks his knife away and walks out of the room.

Dorian loosens his tie and glares at you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You shove him. He was unprepared so he stumbled backward, but he never breaks eye contact with you.

“I had it handled.” Dorian damn near growls back at you.

“I’m taking it from here. Leave.” Dorian stares at you for a moment before turning to stomp off down the hall like an angry toddler.

“Sorry about that.” You say as you re-enter the room. The man in the chair looks up at you, there’s a hint of humor in his eyes.

“No problem princess.” Your smile widens.

“Do you know why you’re here?” You lean against the wall in front of him, your face hidden in the shadows.

“Not a clue. Your boy thought it’d be better to just fuck up my face than tell me shit.” And it was true, his face was bloody, black and blue. Dorian worked him over.

“Ridgeway Liquor. What do you know?” You sink your hands in your pockets.

“They have good Vodka.” He chuckles.

“So good you make late night trips for a bottle or two?” He remains silent, so you continue.

“If it was so good, why did you burn it down?” He throws his head back to laugh.

“Bitch, I didn’t do shi-” Before he can finish the sound of metal on bone cascades through the room. You stand fully in the light, looking down at the man. His nose crumpled against his face, blood gushing down over his mouth and chin.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” The man spits, splattering blood on the floor in front of him. A tooth included.

“Dorian usually goes bare knuckle. I prefer a bit of sparkle.” You stare down at the brass knuckles that adorn your clenched fist. Custom made, diamond encrusted, now painted with a hint of blood.

“The next words out of your mouth will be the reason why your car was in the alley behind Ridgeway last night.” The man looks at you, surprised by your strength and terrified by your question.

“I don’t- I don’t know what-”

THUD

Another punch lands on the man's face. More blood and another tooth falls to the floor.Another punch lands on the man's face. A loud crack of bones breaking and wails of pain flood the small room. Blood gushes from the mans nose and mouth.

“OKAY okay okay okay… I was there. I was there okay?” There’s desperation in his voice.

“What was the job?” You pick up a towel off the nearby table and clean your brass knuckles.

“I don’t know…” You raise your fist again. “I DON’T KNOW because… because I just had to put a USB in the computer and I don’t know anything else besides that.”

“Who did you deliver it to?” The man drops his gaze. He stares at the floor and cries out in pain.

“I answer that I die. You can hit me all you want, but I can’t…”

“Die now or die later. Up to you. At least I’m giving you a choice.” You pull your gun from your holster and place the barrel to his forehead. He cries out, his eyes widening.

“Okay, okay OKAY - I delivered it to a man on 2nd and Vine. He only gave me the name Oni.”

“How’d you communicate with him?”

“A burner phone. Texted me the details.”

“Where’s the phone now?”

“Bottom of the ocean. His instructions.”

“Where’d you toss it from?”

“Whitesand Pier.” You turn and walk to the door. “Wait wait WAIT, you gotta let me go. Please! They'll kill me for this!”

“Don’t worry. Oni won’t kill you.”

Bang

It takes a few minutes for the ringing in your ears to subside. You holster your gun once more and face the door. You swing it open to see Dorian running towards you from down the hall. He slows when he sees you.

“You good?” He glances over your shoulder to see the man slumped forward in his chair.

“Fine.” You stride forward down the hall, Dorian follows you. “We need divers at Whitesand Pier. If you find a phone, send it to Mack. Get a clean up crew in here.”

Lord Almighty Feel my temperature rising

You pull your burner from your back pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” Dorian picks up his pace to look over your shoulder at the screen.

“Elvis Presley.” You answer curtly before sliding to answer the call. “Hello.”

Sylus laughs before saying, “It’s a video call, sweetie.”

“Wait, that’s-” You push Dorian out of the elevator before the door closes so you’re in the elevator alone. You take a deep breath and pull the phone away from your ear.

“What happened?” Sylus looks shocked when he sees your face. You quickly tap the screen to show yourself. Your face is lightly splattered with blood.

“Oh, I’m fine. I was… painting.” Sylus stares at you for a minute.

“Sure.”

“Why are you calling anyways?” You try to clean some of the blood away with your sleeve. Switching hands to make sure your brass knuckles don’t come into frame.

“Just confirming I have permission to enter your territory to pick you up on Saturday?”

“Yes, of course. I still fail to see why a video call was necessary?”

“I wanted to see you. Is that a problem?” The blood could have blended in with how red your cheeks were turning. When you don’t respond, Sylus continues, his eyes sparkling.

“I’ll see you Saturday, kitten.”

The screen goes black as Sylus hangs up leaving your reflection in the glass. Specks of blood still splattered on your face, a bead of sweat drips down your back. He couldn’t have picked a worse time.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

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juuuulez · 1 year ago

Text

📰 | prologue: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes-less chapter (sorry!), Negan x Daughter! Reader, pre/start of apocalypse, violence and minor gore, morally grey reader, mentions of child abuse/neglect.

summary: When the apocalypse breaks loose, you find yourself in companionship with your sport teacher, Mr. Smith.

THIS was so much fun to write!!!! Genuinely my favourite chapter I’ve done so far. Let me know what you all think, because I’d love to do more little tidbits that stray from the original story. But with that in mind, this instalment IS required to understand parts of the fic going forward. Prologue is mandatory…..I’ve just finally done it.

Chapters 1, 2, 3, and 4 are already out! 5 will return to our regularly scheduled program of Carl and (Y/N) bickering.

You valued consistency.

Doing the same thing, every day.

Even if your life was shit, at least it was consistently shit.

You always knew how to behave. What could just go unpunished. How to enter the house without making a sound. The perfect patterns to ensure your location wasn’t given away. What exactly to say to avoid being hit.

It was routine, comfortable. You permanently lived on the edge, waiting. Listening, watching. Observing those around you.

As routine, you were late. It was becoming quite the pattern, but you couldn’t help it. The bus ran late. Or, you suppose… if it ran late every day, then it was on schedule. Maybe you should start catching an earlier bus.

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

Second period, Tuesday.

Sport.

Now, you didn’t necessarily dislike sport. But you didn’t really love it, either.

The uniform always made you feel insecure. Which, at the ripe age of 13, doesn’t seem to be an emotion your peers are experiencing yet. Or maybe they are just better at hiding it than you are. It’s also incredibly performative, sport, which you hate. Being singled out, going one by one, choosing teams. All of it was terrible.

You didn’t mind your teacher.

Which, went a long way, considering you disliked most people who resided within these buildings. Teachers and students alike.

But Mr. Smith was nice. To you, at least. And to everyone. He was loud, had too much energy, but you didn’t mind. It just meant that he cared about his job.

You absentmindedly tugged at the sleeves of your shirt, the fabric wrapped around your arms to make up for the breezy garment of the girls tank top. It made you look different, set you apart. You hated that.

Regardless, you fall in line with the others.

Baseball.

Granted, you’ve never played baseball before. Sure, you’d watched it, on the small occasion that you were allowed to stay with a friend. It was a vivid memory. Watching from the hallway, over her father’s shoulder, whilst she was asleep.

You wished that your father liked sports. Or maybe cooking. Or collecting things, cleaning things, fixing things. Anything.

It’s almost the end of class, you’re standing at the back of the line. Three kids, then two, then just one. You. The others are standing on the bleachers, already collecting their equipment, preparing for break.

“Batter-up.” Mr. Smith says, though you don’t understand the colloquialism. Nonetheless, you move forward, accepting the bat from the previous student. Another is further down the field. Bowler, you presume.

The metal bat is cold between your fingers, clenched in your dominant hand. It’s heavy, but not an unmanageable amount, just enough to keep you aware of it. There’s weight to the swing, weight on your arm, shoulder. It takes a moment to find your footing.

But when you do, the other student has already thrown the ball. It’s hurdling towards you, faster than comfortable. Spinning through the air with a distinct whizz, perfectly curved, heavy. Dangerous.

It’s instinctual. Your body twists, landing a hit on the spherical object with laser accuracy, the impact ringing in your ears as it soars away, towards the end of the pitch.

Your head snaps in the opposite direction, recalling the match you’d silently observed years ago. There are beige bases in the grass, thin plates. The bat falls from your grip, hitting the ground with a thud, and you move to start running.

It only takes a few steps before reality clicks in, and you realise the feat is pointless. Nobody else is playing. There is no-one to catch your ball, to cheer and clap. Everybody has already begun to leave. They didn’t watch you, didn’t continue the game. Three seconds tick over before the bell rings, releasing the crowd of children awaiting their freedom.

Suddenly the summer breeze is too hot, the sleeves of your shirt itching, sticking to your skin. The tank is too tight. It hugs your body in the wrong way, vulnerable, at their mercy. And yet, you are unseen in a similar manner, and there’s an inkling of you that wants to be judged, simply to say you’d been recognised.

You’re collecting your things, and by that, putting your muddied sneakers into a plastic bag and slipping on new ones. There are footsteps behind you. Heavy, easily identifiable as an adult. You have impeccable hearing.

Before he can announce himself, you’ve turned. There’s always been respect in your tone when conversing with teachers, well aware of the authority they hold, despite your frequent disagreeable on their methods.

“Never mentioned you were good at baseball.” Mr. Smith quips, already packing up the equipment left behind from the lesson into a large bag. Those concrete-hard balls, the plastic bases, the metal bats.

“I’ve never played, sir.” You tell him, flashing that usual, awkward smile that doesn’t really count as a smile, but just the pursing of your lips. An attempt at civility from somebody too irreversibly damaged for their age.

“Well, we’ve got a team running,” He continues to speak whilst organising, and though he does not look at you, your attention is drawn. “Could come find you later, give you the permission slip.”

That bursts your bubble. There’s no chance in hell that you could persuade your father to sign it. There was forging the signature, but this game would run in after-school hours, an extra curricular. You wouldn’t be allowed.

“I dunno,” You shrug in premature defeat, slinging the bag over your shoulder, coming to stand at the feet of the bleachers. “Not really a team player. Wouldn’t fit in with the older girls.”

Though there’s no visible indication, it’s obvious that Mr. Smith disregards this as a valid excuse. Which, it definitely isn’t, but it’s the little statement you tell yourself in order to feel less shitty about missing an opportunity.

“How about I get you the slip, and then you’ve got the option?” It’s said as a question, but clearly isn’t, as he’s then reaching into the duffel bag and pulling out one of those heavy, metal bats.

He holds it out to you, and you have no choice but to take it.

“Get some practise in before the weekend.”

Then Mr. Smith is leaving, and you’re left standing there, on the muddy field. The second bell rings out.

You’re late.

Now, this habitual lateness may not be all so coincidental.

Tardiness was handled rather vigorously in the seventh grade, for whatever reason. You didn’t understand.

But it hasn’t taken too long into the year to crack the metaphorical code. Detention was mandated for wrongdoings, ergo, another hour before you had to be home.

You’d take detention over home any day of the week.

So it was unsurprising when you ended up there this afternoon, settling into your usual spot near the back. There were a other kids, the typical troublemakers, and a few poor souls who genuinely had misfortune befall them.

Mrs. Hagerty, the librarian, overlooked detention. She was old and slow, grey hair, grey lips. Grey… skin. Well, she looked half-dead, which was saying something. You weren’t surprised, though it was a little suspicious how she hadn’t chastised you for bringing the baseball bat into the room.

It sat propped up against your desk.

Despite your adamancy against pointless procedures, public humiliation, gossip, and assholes in charge, you were quite good at school. English, primarily, was your strong suit. Reading, writing. All of it.

The peace that you’d carefully crafted was interrupted roughly halfway into the lesson. Or, babysitting session, as Mrs. Hagerty was yet to look up from her desk. Talk about worlds easiest job.

You still remembered that day, even now. Years later.

At the time, Mr. Smith was nothing but your sport teacher, someone with authority who you detested less than most other figures. A reasonable constant in your life, so far.

Now, he was Negan. Everything to you, in a way. Alike to how you were everything to him. Though you didn’t know it then, this was the day that he’d consume an entirely different part of your mind, forging a new identity that would terrorise, ravage, and torment communities.

But in the same breath, protect you, help raise you, construct an entire empire with you as the sun. Though you’d never succumb to the hive mind, you were not Negan. But you certainly were his.

Nonetheless, it all started within that room. The detention room.

“Permission slip.” Negan announced, placing the small pink paper on the desk in front of you. He attempted to keep his voice hushed, mindful of the other students who were meant to be studying, but appeared more to be sleeping.

Now that it was out of school hours, and he was likely printing, Negan wore reading glasses. Later, you would mock him for these, making comments about him being old.

It always awarded you with that same distinct look of warning. Yet, it never made you feel threatened, but appreciated. Seen.

You slide the permission slip closer, reading the small black writing. In the same motion, you fish out a pen, jotting down cursive letters in the underlined section.

You slide it back.

“I can’t take this,” Negan points out with a sign, gazing down at the signature that is obviously not one of your parents. “You’re really making me go back, and print another one?”

This causes you to roll your eyes, “So I can take it home and do the same thing? That just wastes both of our time… our you could take it now.”

However, he won’t budge. “It’s policy. Go home, get it signed. I don’t need to know how.”

Though you feign annoyance, the insinuation made you want to smile. Turns out, Negan knew more than he was letting on. Gossip spread across faculty quickly, and it didn’t take a genius to deduct your… poor living situation.

The long sleeves, the turtle necks, the gloves. Jeans in summer. Never a parent to attention parent-teacher conferences.

He’s about to turn and leave, when there’s a slight commotion at the front of the room.

One of the younger students, Jasmin, is talking to Mrs. Hogarty in a hushed voice. Goody-two-shoes.

When she gets no response, the student only continues talking, trying to elicit a reaction from the teacher that has otherwise remained silent. In an irreversible mistake, Jasmin reaches out, gently waving her tanned hand in front of glazed over eyes.

Mrs. Hogarty lunges at her, finally in motion, chubby hands gripping at the forearm of the girl and taking a bite from plush skin. Blood spurts from the wound, Jasmin screams in horror, alike to the rest of the few misdemeanours in the room.

Everyone is in motion. Some try to help Jasmin, others flee. You’re stuck. Truth is, though you boast agility, you’ve never been in a situation like this. Your mouth gapes like a fish, open, closed, searching for something to say, to do. A reaction befitting of this complete, disgusting travesty.

“C’mon, up. Let’s go.” Negan is talking to you, you realise. It’s like everything finally clicks back into motion, the water no longer clogging your ears, making everything muffled and distant. This is reality.

You scramble from the chair, grabbing books, pencils, hastily shoving them into your little brown bag.

But there’s a hand on your shoulder, urging you forward, towards the exit sitting towards the back of the classroom. “Leave it, no time.” Negan is telling you, helping you off the floor. Before the two of you can make a break for it, your hands clasp around the metal baseball bat.

It swings at your side as you leave the building, feet padding against the concrete of the pavement. It’s strangely… desolate. There is no increasing urgency, nobody around. It almost makes you question whether what happened was real. But you’re still walking, forward, away.

“Shouldn’t we help her?” You ask, to which Negan finally stops to look back at you. His brows furrow, confused, so you clarify. “Jasmin.”

“No, no, there isn’t any helping her,” He clarifies, talking slowly to try and get the idea in your head. “I read about this shit online, it’s in other countries. Europe. They aren’t people anymore.”

You don’t quite catch on, understand the severity of his words. But it makes sense. No person would act like that. Your feet begin to move again, travelling the familiar path.

“Hey, where are you going?” Negan calls out, and it’s only now that you become aware of the distance between you. Your head snaps into the direction of the bus stop, a silent answer, and Negan seems to deduct your intentions. He nods in the opposite direction. “C’mon.”

You obey, needing to skip in order to catch up with his longer strides. The bat is still clenched in your dominant hand, cold metal occasionally making contact with the side of your leg. It’s heavy, but you’re getting used to it.

As you approach the car park, the sun beats down, warming the asphalt. A few paces away is Negan’s truck, but before that, another person you quickly identify as an older student.

Stringy hair, grey skin, dull eyes. Arms reaching out, wandering aimlessly. The animated corpse seems to have some semblance of consciousness, as it spots you, limping over.

Preemptively, you take a step back, that familiar feeling of panic flooding your system at an unavoidable danger. Luckily, Negan appears to be significantly more composed than you are, as he’s reaching back for something. Extending a hand to you.

When you don’t react, he whistles, a high-pitched noise that instantly gets your attention. You did not know it yet, but this would become a familiar constant in your life. Nonetheless, you catch onto what he meant, letting the metal bat fall into his extended hand.

“Are you gonna…?” You don’t finish your question, as you’re unsure what exactly you think may happen. There’s a small part of you that doesn’t want to know.

Luckily, Negan provided little answers. “Go around and get in the truck.” He tells you, instructs you, and you listen simply because you trust him. Which, in this day and age, is dangerous.

You busy yourself with the seatbelt in order not to watch, able to mentally fill in the blanks as to the measure that Negan was taking. It made sense, you supposed. They weren’t alive anymore, couldn’t feel. Only wanted to hurt other people. Therefore, they needed to be put down.

There’s a clang as he places the baseball bat in the back of the truck, getting into the drivers seat and starting the engine. You watch this interest, unable to remember the last time somebody drove you anywhere. Never, if you recall correctly.

Thankful, Negan opts to ignore the way you inspect his every movement, like a little bird. Or a startled cat.

“Your address?” He requests, already making a start down the street that he would presume lead towards your house. It snaps you out of the little daze, face scrunching up.

“No, gross. I can’t give you my address,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, as if the idea of completely insane. “You could be a predator, for all I know. That’s private information.”

Negan gives you that look again, the same one when you’d forged the signature. He can’t quite understand you. “Why would I work in a school if I was a predator? Tell me, how would I get that job.”

You shrug, “Maybe because that’s exactly what you want.”

He becomes fed up with your inane accusation, rolling his eyes. Yet, despite the attitude you’ve adopted, he does not get frustrated with you. “Address, now. I’m takin’ you home.”

There’s a large part of you that doesn’t even want to go home, yet you obey, providing Negan with your address to which he turns down the proper street. Luckily, you don’t live too far from school… or, unlucky, you suppose. For it isn’t long until you’re pulling into your driveway.

You get out, footsteps cautious against the pavement. A few meters away is an older lady, half alive, clinging to the path with desperate hands despite the concave appearance of her head. Your neighbour. She groans upon noticing you, but her legs are broken, and cannot move forward.

Remembering earlier, you move backwards towards the truck, fishing out the metal bat. It’s shiny metallic end is caked with reddish blood, stringing bits of decomposing guts hanging from it.

You can only make it a step forward until Negan is holding your shoulder again, pushing you in the opposite direction, towards the house. “Nope. Just leave her, she ain’t hurting anyone.”

Usually, you would detest being controlled. Told what to do. The shadow of an adult so close behind you, watching, letting their hands intrude on your space. But you didn’t feel threatened by Negan, which was odd. You weren’t going to complain about it, that’s for sure.

You ascend up the shallow stairs, coming to a stop in front of the door. When you reach out, pressing on the doorhandle, you’re shocked to find that it simply swings open, already sitting ajar. Dread fills your body.

It’s not that fearful, sickly dread that you get when you know you’ve done something wrong, and are awaiting the inevitable consequences. No, its.. different. You’ve felt it very few times before. Concern, worry. Knowing that something is wrong, and you cannot stop it.

Nonetheless, you enter the house. It’s in its familiar state, which provides a slight comfort to you, but Negan finds himself taken aback. It’s practically a mess. Every surface has something on it, whether it be pointless junk, or the garbage of bottles and cans. A few areas remain spotless, like the kitchen counter, and the bin remains empty and carefully tucked away.

It’s clear that you upkeep the small areas which you require for your autonomy. The rest of the place? Not your problem. It’s no wonder you don’t like being there.

As you pat further down the hallway, Negan draws his attention to the entrance. There’s a large bookshelf, though the books are dusty, likely long since actually used. A few slots are unusually empty, indicating that you’ve taken some to keep elsewhere.

But it’s the top shelf that draws his attention. Two photographs, positioned around thirty centimetres apart, with two respective urns behind them. One significantly smaller. Mother and daughter, he recognises. Mother and baby, actually.

It’s apparent that this is the home of a family that’s lost half of its inhabitance. He can’t help but wonder, is this the fate that will befall him, come Lucille’s death? Hopefully not. Nothing like this.

“Dad?”

Negan regains his sense of reality, curiosity piked as you’re speaking down the hall. He moves further into the space, standing in the kitchen as he observes you, there on the porch.

You stand near the doorway, that bat still hanging from one hand. In front of you, a figure, sitting down. Next to him, a half-empty case of beers. Part of Negan becomes increasingly alert, aware, prepared to avoid letting any harm befall you. A harm that you’re likely accustomed to.

There’s no response.

“C’mon. Just say something.” You urge, sounding utterly defeated. And yet, your father gives no response, despite the impending doom blanketing the situation.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand. The vicious, red welt on your fathers neck gives it away, jagged and seeping blood that stains his already unkept shirt. It’s a matter of time, at this point. You’d like to extract at least one, genuine conversation. Absolutely anything before he disappears forever.

That isn’t seeming very likely.

Your eyes drift around the yard, welling with tears not of sadness, but frustration. This is it? You are to become an orphan, the world is ending, and your piece-of-shit father won’t even look at you? In this moment, you wished he was angry.

You wished he would yell at you.

Pin you against the wall by your neck.

Bruise you. Beat you.

Anything other than this.

“I made the baseball team.” You tell him, another futile attempt to elicit any sort of reaction. Pride, maybe. Congratulate his young daughter for her achievement. Even the smallest hint of recognition would go a long way, pull you from this spiral you’ve begun to succumb to.

And what does he do?

He scoffs.

His arm lifts, taking another swig of the near empty bottle.

Finally, you’ve gotten your sign. A signal, a hint. The divine intervention that sets everything straight, reminds you of your place in this world. Just enough attention to keep you subdued, but satisfied. Complacent.

Anger overtakes you before you’re even aware of these emotions, wielding a surprising amount of strength for a pre-pubescent girl. You want to scream and shout and hurt him.

So you do.

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, really. Unplanned, messily executed. But would you have done it again? Certainly.

You cannot feel remorse for causing pain to a man who’s soul died long ago. Died with your mother, died with your infant sister. Tried to kill yours along with it all.

It’s already happened before you can understand.

There’s a distinct soreness in your shoulder, strained from swinging the metal baseball bat with such force. There are little blisters forming on your palms from how tight you’re gripping, clawing, clenching around the handle. The movement has shifted your whole body, but you don’t look down.

You don’t acknowledge the mess you’ve made.

Blood splattered across the wooden porch, some even hitting the adjacent fence. Skull broken, concave. Oozing sticky red.

The glass bottle rolls down the steps. Clink, clink, clink. It hits the plush grass, silenced.

It was inevitable, anyway. Whether to the virus, or your own hands, your father was going to die.

It was a mercy-kill, at best.

Vengeance at worst.

But that didn’t matter anymore, because when you turned around, he was there.

Negan.

Standing in the kitchen, watching you through the open door. He didn’t appear horrified, or disgusted. Maybe unsettled, sure. There was a darkness within you that he recognised, understood. Sure, he didn’t put it there, but over the years he would cultivate it, guide you. Raise you as somebody who would never be taken advantage of again.

Untouchable.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #negan smith x reader #negan smith #twd x you #the walking dead #carl grimes

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golden-cherry · 4 months ago

Note

The people leaving hate for you are absolute bums (sorry, but true!). Writing is hard. Writing a multi-part, lengthy piece is even harder (this should go without saying???). Your writing is *always* masterclass because you put so much care into it. So PLEASE don’t listen to people getting upset because they didn’t get to consume a piece of media that you produce and control. We, the people that love you and your work, will wait patiently and with brimming enthusiasm for whatever you give us. Thank you for your stunning work. I can’t wait to read whatever you release AT YOUR CONVENIENCE!!! Love ya cherry, wishing you the best always 🫶

I’ve received so many messages like this that I can’t answer them all

I just want to thank you all so much for understanding that

1. I have a life

2. writing is hard

3. the story is free for everybody, so nobody is entitled to get new chapters since I do it in my free time (and I’m not getting any money for writing and posting)

4. it sometimes it takes time to make a chapter perfect and a good author doesn’t want to post shitty things just so their readers have something to read (me and you both don’t want shitty chapters, trust me)

5. criticizing isn’t gonna make any author write and update faster

I‘m so thankful for all the lovely messages I’ve received in the last few days and I keep them in my inbox so whenever I receive stupid stuff - there’s always a positive message right below the stupid one

I love you all and thank you for always having my back 🫶🏻💗

cherry

#ask #kisses to you all

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unnoticed-poison · 10 months ago

Text

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔! 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚅𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 °【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】°

Qᴜᴏᴛᴇv ʟɪɴᴋ

ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ ʟɪɴᴋ

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1 【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

I got obsessed with this show so I decided why not write a yandere fic for it for fun.

I'm gonna post chapter one here as well, but then future chapters will most likely be posted on AO3, Wattpad and Quotev, the links will be posted soon.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Everyone was familiar with the screams and pleads of terror and despair that echoed throughout the city, hundreds of demons, in a state of panic, could be seen running in the streets in desperation, terrified at the sight of the angels, who had determined smiles on their faces as they chased them down with the intent to end their lives, prompting them to run even faster, trying to escape their impending doom that was closing in on them.

Amidst all the chaos, in one of the buildings from the distance, unaffected by the madness, a low yet soft voice rang out, reading out loud from a book, seemingly oblivious to the horror happening outside.

"- Lucifer found her and the rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love-"

It was a story they'd read countless times before, but oh it never failed to bring them joy and comfort.

"She empowered the demon kind with her voice and her songs-"

Despite the screams of terror outside were practically impossible to ignore, this particular story offered a temporary escape from their worries, even for just a little while.

"And their dream was passed down to their precious son, the prince of hell."

The end.

....

The man let out a deep sigh as he gently shut the book and gazed out the window at the chaos. " Don't worry Mom, I'll make this work, I promise."

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 it takes.

"Charles, I enjoy your theatrics and all, I really do, but this is literally the fifth time you've repeated the same story to yourself."

A voice rang out behind him suddenly, making him turn his head in fright.

"Shit Dicckie! I didn't see you there." He let out a nervous chuckle. "Did you hear all that?"

Dicckie nodded. "Yeah, I literally just said that."

"Sorry, you know I always get worked up during an extermination." He smiled down at the book in his hands. " This book always helps, even for just a moment."

It was better than nothing...

"Don't worry, I love hearing your voice anyways, but you know you can always talk to me-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a deafening explosion echoed through the air, making them jolt in surprise and fright as they turned to the source of the noise.

Looking out the window, the men watched as an entire airship crashed into the buildings below, the group of exterminators who had taken it down cheered and high-fived one another before parting ways.

.......

Charles sighed. "They're extra ruthless this year, huh.."

It just gets worse and 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 each year.

.......

Dicckie struggled to find something to say to comfort the prince, before remembering what he was here for in the first place. " Hey, how about we go see what Alastor prepared for our commercial? That will take your mind off.. this."

Charles smiled, setting the book aside before standing up and grabbing his hand. "You're right! He should be done with it by now, let's go."

Dicckie smiled back at him, pleased to see him so enthusiastic again, it suited him better. "There you go, I'm positive he did an amazing job," he said, though he couldn't mask the slight hesitation in his tone.

At least, he hoped he did.

That radio freak better have made something 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

I wanted to continue MC's part but I don't have much free time so I decided to end the trailer here

My friend told me to name vaggie Dicckie cause

Vaggie = vagina

So automatically

Dicckie= Dick 😭😭😭

#hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel

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mimisempai · 7 months ago

Text

I'll find you at the end of the road - Chap 3/8

Chapter summary

Through the mysterious mailbox, Crowley and Aziraphale get to know each other and their bond grows stronger...

On Ao3

Rating G - 3764 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5 - Chap 6 - Chap 7 - Last chapter

April 15, 2024 - 7:00 a.m.

Crowley, his heart beating a little faster than usual, approached the mailbox from which the flag was raised.

He opened the flap and unfolded the note with slightly shaking fingers.

Thank you for this lovely gesture. I haven't stopped wearing it since I received it. But how did you know that tartan is one of my favorite things?

You tell me that this connection with me allows you to open up to others and not feel alone, and you ask me if I want to continue this correspondence?

I don't want to stop either! I feel the benefits in my life as much as you do.

I don't know if we'll ever meet, but I want to keep getting to know you and for you to get to know me.

Let me know what you like, what you don't like, what makes you tick, whatever you feel like writing.

Sincerely.

Aziraphale.

Crowley, not realizing he was holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, tucked the letter in his pocket, and left. He had to get to work before he could write. It was no longer a matter of writing a short note; he wanted to take the time to think before he could answer Aziraphale.

As he walked through the school gates a few hours later, even though he loved his job, for once he couldn't wait for the day to be over.

April 17, 2022

Aziraphale was reading Crowley's latest letter, a steaming cup of tea beside him, sitting in what had become his special Crowley corner, the armchair in front of the bay window.

As for the tartan, I was really acting on a hunch, I saw this scarf and thought you'd like it.

A little more about me:

I became an astronomy teacher because I've always loved the stars and planets. I lived in a country village as a child and was fascinated by the night sky.

My favorite color is red, although I pretty much only wear black.

My favorite spirit is Talisker and I love spicy food.

Queen is the best band! (I won't accept any arguments to the contrary).

My favorite book is Persuasion by Jane Austen.

I love to drive my old Bentley.

I'm afraid of fire.

I can't stand cruelty, condescension, and lying, especially people who lie to themselves.

And I hate people who feed bread to ducks (it's not good for them).

I love the lake house.

Aziraphale laughed slightly at the humorous tone of the letter, then finished his tea before fetching his notepad to begin writing his reply.

April 19, 2024

Crowley, sitting cross-legged on his sofa, Harry curled up in a ball on his lap, read the latest letter from Aziraphale.

I love old things, especially old books. In my antique shop, the only thing I refuse to sell are old books. I prefer to keep them for myself.

I love restoring old furniture and objects to their former glory.

I also drive an old car, an old yellow Beetle from 1941.

My favorite book is Pride and Prejudice, but Persuasion is a close second.

I listen to my favorite classical music on an old gramophone, but I also have Queen records. (Which I listen to sometimes and I won't deny that they are the best band).

I like to draw, or rather make sketches that I never finish.

My favorite drink is sherry and occasionally a good glass of French red wine from Bordeaux. I love sweets more than anything and especially French crêpes.

I also dislike lies, prejudices, and gratuitous meanness - well, just plain meanness.

I also like the lake house. A lot. A lot. (All the more, since it seems to be what made our connection possible.)

As for the ducks, what should I feed them if I see any on the lake?

How did you come to live at the lake house?

Crowley reread the letter, folded it, and placed it in the small metal box where he'd put the others before going to bed and thinking about what he'd answer the next day.

April 21, 2022

It was a day of rest, and Aziraphale was still in his bathrobe when he left the house to see if there was any mail. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Crowley had already replied, if the little flag was to be believed. He refused to think about the fact that his heartbeat had quickened for that reason, attributing it to the fact that he'd been walking a little faster than usual.

He took the letter and read it over his breakfast, Harry munching on a lettuce leaf at his feet.

Frozen peas. The ducks love them and it's good for them.

I rented the lake house after I graduated from university. I needed some space and peace.

It was the strangest place I'd ever seen.

I couldn't imagine anyone building it. In fact, I couldn't imagine anyone building it and not living in it. I liked the way it seemed to float above the water. I liked the path that led to it. I don't know why, it has a strange, timeless charm.

April 23, 2024

Crowley, during a break between classes, took Aziraphale's answer out of his pocket and read it again.

I now have a bag of frozen peas in my freezer. I'm ready for the ducks.

Regarding the lake house, I so agree with you.

The fact that you have to walk so much to get to the front door, it's like you have to earn the right to enter the house. Every time I walk up the path, it's like I'm on a quest, and the prize is the right to enter.

I'm sorry, I must sound a little eccentric.

April 24, 2022

During his lunch break and throughout the day, Aziraphale read and reread the last words from Crowley.

Please don't apologize. Not to me for being who you are.

You can be eccentric. You can be anything you want.

Aziraphale had always felt different, in both his personal and professional life choices, never accepted by his own family for who he was, so Crowley's words eased some of his inner struggles.

He couldn't ignore the warm feeling in his chest at this affirmation from someone he'd never met.

There was someone in this world who accepted him for who he was.

You can be anything you want.

A few weeks passed as Crowley and Aziraphale continued their strange correspondence.

It was late spring now, and yet the wind was blowing strongly on this early morning in London as Crowley walked briskly to the academy.

As he always did these days, he smiled at the thought of Aziraphale's latest letter, already thinking of what he would write back.

His phone began to vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he reached for it to answer the call.

Seeing the name on the screen, he said in a cold voice, "Yes?"

He held back a sigh of annoyance as he listened to his caller and then replied, "Look, this isn't easy for me either. You know... no, I'm not angry that you called. It's just that... I'm sorry, I have to go to work and I..."

He approached the school and didn't want to continue this conversation as more and more students entered.

After listening to the arguments on the other end of the line, he replied firmly, "I don't think that's a good idea. No, Furfur, I'm asking you not to come. Because we need more time... Especially if we want to stay friends. I just don't think we should... Look, I'm on my way to work, so we'll talk. Bye."

Crowley sighed again and shook his head as he walked out the large front door.

"Don't tell me you've lost your motivation already."

Crowley looked up and, meeting Mrs. Tracy's gaze, replied, the smile back on his lips, "Absolutely not."

"That's fortunate. Eric has the flu and we need someone to cover his classes while he's out. Since your resume says you majored in art, I was wondering if..."

"No problem! I'm happy to oblige. Just don't blame me for associating it with astronomy."

"I'm already happy to have someone, I'm not going to be picky. You can check Eric's schedule with the assistant and then make arrangements. Thank you, Crowley, really. If it weren't for the exams, I wouldn't have asked you."

Crowley replied kindly, his expression open to show her he meant it sincerely, "No worries, really."

On the contrary, he was pleased to see that even though he was the last to arrive, he was trusted.

However, at the end of the week, when he came home with his arms full of groceries, he thought maybe he should have thought before saying yes, because he was literally exhausted. He hadn't realized how much time and energy it would take to do the work of two people.

Luckily, Eric was back at work by Monday.

But despite his exhaustion, nothing could stop him from going looking for Aziraphale's letter, which must have been waiting for him at the lake house for days.

Less than two hours and a few speeding violations later, he parked in front of the mailbox in a cloud of dust, and a few seconds later, leaning against his car, he eagerly read the letter.

Hello, pen pal.

It's been a while since you last wrote.

I hope all is well.

Several words were crossed out before the letter continued in Aziraphale's elegant handwriting.

It's ridiculous, just a few words to write, and it makes me sound like a babbling teenager (if there's such a thing as sound when it comes to a letter).

Well, I'll write it: I MISS YOU

It was obvious that the last words had been written with determination, probably as much for the author as for the recipient.

Crowley felt a strange warmth in his chest. He, too, had missed the correspondence, more, he had missed Aziraphale's words, so he hurried to reply and put the letter in the box before heading home.

Parking the car in front of the mailbox, Aziraphale decided to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when he saw the little flag raised.

He took the letter out of the box, and once he was home and Harry was fed, the antiquarian went to his favorite spot to read it.

It's been a tough week.

I've had to take a sick colleague's classes and have only had the strength to go to bed at night (and feed Harry, of course), and I feel like it's been a century since I've looked at the sky or seen a bloody tree. That's what I miss. The nature that surrounded me at the lake house.

It's not so bad when I'm busy. It's when I have a minute to breathe, to look around, that it seems really hard.

I wonder what I'm doing here, alone, in this gray city. I miss the trees.

PS: I missed you too. A lot.

June 15, 2022 - 7:00 pm

Aziraphale left the house with a medium-sized tree and gardening tools in the trailer attached to the Beetle and headed for London.

June 15, 2022 - 8:55 p.m.

Arriving at Crowley's address, in front of the construction site he'd seen the other night with Muriel, Aziraphale parked the Beetle. He took out a shovel, put on the gardening gloves he had in his pocket, and after finding the ideal spot in front of the construction site where Crowley's future home would be, began digging a hole. With the help of a rope and a lot of sweat, he managed to get the tree into the hole and covered its roots with the soil and potting soil he'd brought.

Half an hour later, at 9:30 p.m., he stood in front of his work with his hands on his hips and said quietly, "I hope this will work."

June 15, 2024 - 9:30 pm

Halfway between the school and his apartment, Crowley saw rain gathering in the sky and began to pick up his pace as he realized he didn't have an umbrella. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance, and as he ran almost the entire distance to his apartment, the rain began to fall.

Of course, he was completely soaked as he ran the last few meters to the front door of the building. He fumbled for his keys, dropped them, and grew increasingly frustrated as the rain poured down on him, when suddenly it stopped.

Which surprised him because it seemed to be falling everywhere around him except on him.

He looked up.

Above him, the thick green branches of a young tree formed a canopy that swayed in the rain just above Crowley. That tree hadn't been there a second ago, but now it was sheltering him, and Crowley stared at it, mouth agape.

June 15, 2022 - 9:37 p.m.

Aziraphale smiles as he tosses the shovel into the Beetle's trailer before heading home.

June 15, 2024 - 9:37 pm

Crowley, overcome with emotion, smiled broadly and, knowing that only Aziraphale could be responsible for it, whispered to him, though the other man could not hear him, "Thank you, my friend."

Raindrops fell through the green branches, but Crowley didn't care as he danced with joy under the tree, his face turned skyward.

2022 - A few days later

Muriel stood on the small path in front of the lake house and exclaimed, "Wow!"

Aziraphale motioned for them to follow him inside, and Muriel entered, still stunned by the house, before asking, "So this is where you've been hiding?"

Aziraphale smiled back, "Yes. Would you like some tea or something stronger?"

Muriel replied quietly as they looked around, "Tea is perfect."

Aziraphale took two cups from the cupboard, poured the tea and they sat down in the chairs in front of the bay window.

They talked for a while about the new house, for Muriel, as usual, had a lot of questions and Aziraphale was happy to answer them.

Muriel finished their cup of tea, put it down, and with a more serious expression, they said quietly, "Aziraphale. I didn't just come here to escape my miserable existence in the city. I've come to talk to you about HH and to ask you to come back with us. We need you."

Aziraphale shook his head vigorously, "HH? Sorry, Muriel, but no."

His friend insisted, "But if you talk to her..."

"Forget it, Mother doesn't want me back. I don't want to come back. Everybody's happier now."

Muriel argued anyway, "What about your work? Your work was great. Even she admitted that. Look, I know it's hard, but if you put aside your problems with her..."

"I said forget it," Aziraphale replied, this time in a firm tone before softening, "I'm really sorry, Muriel. It's just that... I like it here. And I like my job at the shop."

Muriel replied gently with a slightly sheepish look, "At least I tried," then after a few seconds they asked with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes, "Are you seeing anyone?"

After a slight hesitation that didn't go unnoticed, Aziraphale shook his head.

"Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

Aziraphale said in a voice he knew was a little unconvincing, "I... I'm not committed to anyone, okay?"

"Okay," Muriel replied, smiling amusedly before continuing, "I'm just saying you might want to think about the future."

Aziraphale laughed.

He couldn't stop himself.

Think about the future.

For God's sake, he was communicating with someone who lived two years in the future.

Muriel looked at him as if he'd gone mad, "What?"

Aziraphale continued to laugh.

"What?"

A few days later, with Crowley's letter open in the passenger seat of his Beetle, Aziraphale drove to Waterloo East Station, near Westminster School.

He parked, picked up the letter, and got out, heading for the station entrance.

About the same time, two years ago, I lost something.

At Waterloo East station.

I was taking the train home to my parents and left it on the platform. See if you can find it for me. I won't tell you what it is.

Then drop it in the mailbox.

It's your mission if you decide to accept it.

The exact date and time is on the back of the letter.

Aziraphale couldn't resist a challenge, so he found himself searching for an object he knew nothing about. He wandered around the station, scanning the few people who were there.

He looked for a single man and saw none. Only a few families and an elderly couple.

He continued his search when suddenly, through the window overlooking the platform, he saw a man with short red hair get up and prepare to board the train.

Aziraphale's heart leapt, he wasn't sure if it was Crowley, but he had this deep intuition that it was, and if it was, oh my God, his pen pal was incredibly handsome.

Aziraphale hurried through the door to the platform where he was standing and was about to approach him when he stopped abruptly.

The red-haired man was embracing another curly-haired man who had his back to Aziraphale.

They kissed quickly and embraced again before parting.

Neither of them noticed that Crowley, for it was undoubtedly Crowley, had left a book on the bench behind them. Aziraphale had seen it, but he didn't dare come any closer and decided to wait and watch, a slight twinge in his heart that he chose to ignore.

A voice over the loudspeaker announced the train's imminent departure.

Crowley gave the other man a sad smile before boarding the train, obviously reluctantly.

The one who appeared to be Crowley's lover didn't move and watched the train pull away until it was completely out of sight. He didn't notice the book. Aziraphale watched him go, and when he was far away, he approached the bench. He looked at the book that Crowley had left behind. It was a well-worn copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion.

It had definitely been Crowley.

Crowley impatiently made his way to the mailbox, thinking that Aziraphale might already have gone to the station. He was not deterred when he saw the small flag raised.

He opened it, disappointed not to see the book, but only a note. With just one question.

What are you doing on July 1st?

Crowley replied immediately on the same piece of paper, and just as he was about to leave, he heard the characteristic sound of a small flag being raised and returned to the mailbox and opened it. He grabbed the note and unfolded it.

C: I have no plans. Why do you ask?

A: If you remember, the village celebrates summer with fireworks on the lake.

Would you like to watch them together?

From the lake house. The fireworks on the lake are wonderful.

C: I know, I used to watch them from the house when I lived there. You're not asking me out, are you?

A: No, no. I just thought it would be nice to do the same thing, that's all.

C: The same, but two years apart.

A: It's better than staying home.

C: Okay. Let's go see the fireworks.

A: See you in 10 days.

July 1st at 10 p.m. in front of the mailbox.

Aziraphale didn't wait for an answer and walked happily back into the house. Even though he'd denied it, it still felt like a date of sorts. Perhaps Crowley would agree to tell him more about his mysterious companion.

July 1, 2022/2024 - 10 p.m.

Two years apart, in the same spot, Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to the mailbox. Aziraphale brought one of the chairs from the garden and Crowley brought an old folding camping seat from his car.

They were both armed with notepads and pencils.

The strange, timeless conversation resumed, still punctuated by the little flag going up and down.

C: Did you go to the train station? I never got my book. You're not going to keep it like all your old books, are you?

A: Let me keep it for a while. I want to read it. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you.

Who was the other man at the train station? Was he your boyfriend?

Why didn't you tell me about him?

The way the questions were asked gave Crowley the impression that Aziraphale was jealous, but he didn't want to get the wrong idea.

C: You don't talk to me about your love life either.

A: Because I don't have one. God, I can't believe you didn't tell me you were married.

C: I'm not married, you idiot. We split up when I moved to London.

I'm single now.

The fireworks have just started.

A: They've started here too.

I'm sure yours are better because they're supposed to get better every year.

C: Probably. Let's enjoy the show.

Then, during the fireworks, the flag didn't move for a while. But the noise did not drown out the sound of their hearts beating in their ears.

Then, as the last bouquet ended and silence fell, the flag suddenly rose, startling Crowley.

A: At the station, when I saw you... I didn't expect... I mean, you didn't tell me you were gorgeous...

Crowley gasped, then blushed at the compliment. He looked around, embarrassed, even though he knew no one was there.

C: That's not fair.

You've seen me, but I still don't know what you look like.

Aziraphale ran his hand over his face and figured that since it was the night of truth, he might as well go for it.

A: You're right.

I would like to know what I'll look like in two years. Why don't we meet in the future and you can tell me what you think?

Crowley thought, then looked at his watch; it was 10:43 p.m. He took a deep breath, suddenly excited and nervous, then wrote quickly.

C: Why don't you call me on July 1, 2024 at 10:45 p.m.?

Just as Crowley was about to raise the flag after dropping the note in the mailbox, the phone in his pocket began to vibrate, nearly knocking him out of his chair.

Heart pounding, without looking at it, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and picked it up, "Hello?"

_________

A damaged author can't write the next chapter... so don't hit me for this cliffhanger...

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #human au #alternate universe

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bloodibambiidoll · 1 year ago

Text

Sugar and Spice: Part 2

(E.M. x Fem!Reader x S.H.) Part 1 Series Masterlist.

Summary: You come to terms with your feelings for both boys, movie night with the gang brings out some jealousy, and Steve finally gets the courage to ask you out. 18+MNDI

Warnings: Eventual smut, Angst(Minor..For now.), Reader Steve and Eddie all having thoughts of self doubt, hurt/comfort, No upside down, mutual pining, eventual Steddie x Reader, No use of Y/N so a ton of pet names (Eddie calls reader “Bunny” and she calls him “Teddy” there’s a cute little backstory behind this that I’ll explain in a later part). I will update each chapter but I think that’s it for this one, lmk if I missed any! WK: 6.3k

A/N: thank you for all the love on part 1 of this fic!! I know it took me a lil longer than I intended to get this part out, I had it all mapped out in my head but I was having a hard time actually writing it down. It definitely took a different direction than I intended but they should be coming out faster now! At least once a week. Next part will have some ✨spice✨ divider by: @firefly-graphics

“You like Steve, right?” Robin reiterated

“W-why would you say that? Like what brought that on? I thought we were talking about Eddie.” You tried to keep your voice even but they could hear just the tiniest shake in it when you spoke.

“Well… you know how I asked what you would do if you met someone you really liked? It’s kinda because I figured you liked Steve. There’s just a vibe there.” She shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘there’s just a vibe there’ I feel like he and I are pretty neutral with each other. I don’t know where you got this idea in your head that I LIKE him, I can barely tolerate the guy.”

“Suuuure, is that why you’re always making goo goo eyes at each other? Or what about when you sit on his lap? Or when he’s all ‘I got you honey’” she said that last part in an attempt to sound like Steve which made you snort. “And you’re all ‘oh Stevieeee thank you soooo much’ kinda seems like a little more than neutral if you ask me.”

“Okay so say I did like Steve? Which I fucking don’t, but if I did it wouldn’t matter anyways. He would never go for a girl like me.” You made sure to let out a laugh that you hoped was convincing enough to hide your slight disappointment at your own words.

“Pft! That’s a joke right?” Nancy said.

“No? Why would I be joking? He literally thought my entire friend group were a bunch of satanist freaks in highschool and I’ve seen the kinds of girls he dates. I mean, look at YOU, I’m nothing like you. But it doesn’t matter either way because I. Don’t. Like him.” You were trying your best to keep up your facade but they could tell you were cracking.

“Well, then you’re just blind. Steve ALWAYS liked you. Even when we were together I’d catch him gazing at you sometimes, and when all of his friends would shit talk you? He would stand up for you. JUST you. ‘She’s really not that bad guys seriously, she just doesn’t surround herself with the right people’” she did the same terrible baritone impression of Steve that Robin did, making you laugh this time.

“Whatever, there’s no fucking way. I don’t understand why we are even still talking about thi-”

“STEVE LIKES YOU! HE TOLD ME!” Robin blurted out before covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide. She was fully in meddling territory now and there’s no going back.

You looked back at her with a similar expression, your jaw dropping. “What…?”

“Oh my god ROBIN! Why would you SAY that!?” Nancy snapped at her and you know Robin was responding to her but all you could hear was the blood rushing through your ears. There was no way you heard her right. Steve couldn’t like you?… could he?

A hand waving in front of your face snapped you from your thoughts “HELLLOOOO? Anybody in there? I know I definitely shouldn’t have said that… but you were so sure Steve could never like you that you weren’t even entertaining the idea and you said your thing with Eddie wasn’t official and isn’t going to be so even though I definitely told Steve I wouldn’t meddle I wanted you to know that he does like you because you were so insistent that he didn’t and it just kind of came out and-“

“ROBIN!” You grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly to get her to look at you. “Can we just calm down for a second? I can’t even compute what’s happening right now. Just take a deep breath.” You started taking a breath in and she took the hint and inhaled along with you. Once you had both taken a few deep breaths you dropped your hands from her shoulders and looked at her.

“You good?”

She nodded in response.

“Okay, so, Steve likes me?..”

“Yes! He does! And Nancy was right, he has always liked you. He’s got this like total schoolgirl crush on you dude. It’s honestly pretty cute how he talks about you.”

Steve talks about you? Steve actually likes you? That can’t be true. But why would Robin lie? She’s his best friend she would know more than anybody..

“Hey! I can see you spiraling, don’t. I’m not lying or whatever reason you’re trying to come up with to convince yourself it’s not true, he actually likes you.”

“That’s… fucking horrible news, FUCK!” You dropped your face into your hands and groaned.

“What!? From how you were talking I thought you were finally going to admit you liked him too!!”

“Robin…” Nancy said before turning to you with a sympathetic look on her face. “I think I get it. You like Steve right? But you never thought he would like you back so you figured it didn’t really matter, you could push it to the back of your mind. But now that you know he does like you, you can’t do that. Which in a normal situation would be a good thing. But this isn’t normal, is it? Because you love Eddie?”

“What, are you a mind reader or something? UGH! This is so fucking stupid. This is exactly why I didn’t entertain this! THIS right here! I don’t want to think about this, I don’t want to think about if Steve likes me or not because then I have to think about what would happen with me and Eddie and that’s the last thing I want to think about EVER! So can we just please watch the fucking movie now!?”

You threw your head back against the couch cushion and sighed. “Fuck, I’m sorry for snapping. I just… can we not talk about this anymore right now or preferably ever please?”

Robin came and sat right next to you, resting her head on your shoulder. “Don’t be sorry babes, I’m sorry for pushing. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, but just know if you do want to, I’m here okay?”

Nancy patted your leg on the opposite side of you “Exactly, you can talk to us any time. We aren’t just Eddie’s friends, we are yours too. Maybe even more so now. We love you. Now let’s look at Patrick Swazye’s ass in those tight jeans…”

You haven’t seen Steve or Eddie since your conversation with the girls but tonight was movie night at Steve’s house so it was pretty much inevitable unless you decided to veto going all together. Which you knew wouldn’t go over well because if you faked being sick Eddie would come check on you and see that you were in fact, not sick. Then he would ask you a million questions about what’s wrong and know if you were lying, you wanted to avoid that. If Eddie noticed you were acting weird he would get it out of you one way or another and you absolutely did not want him to find out about your feelings for Steve.

So as you got ready, you mentally prepared to be around them both at the same time. It was already almost unbearable before but now that you have spoken your feelings out loud you had no idea how to act. Eddie was picking you up and would be at your apartment any minute so you checked your outfit in the mirror a final time before taking a deep breath and going to the porch to wait for him.

You only sat there for a few minutes before you heard him speeding down the street, metal music blasting through his old vans speakers. He pulled into your driveway with a screech before hopping out to greet you.

“Hey Bunny!” He said as he bounded over to you, extending his hand to help you up off the porch steps and pulling you into his arms. “I missed you.” He mumbled into the hair at the crown of your head, placing a small kiss there.

“Hi Teddy, I missed you too. Even though I saw you two days ago.” You chuckled, nuzzling your face into the soft material of his worn out Black Sabbath tee. A wave of calm washed over you as his familiar scent filled your nostrils. You could do this, it was just like any other movie night you’ve had with the gang since you’ve been home.

“Two days too long!! I always miss you the second I’m away from you.” He looked down at you smiling, placing his hands on either side of your face before nuzzling his nose against your own.

“Can I take you home tonight?” Fuck. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

“Y-yeah of course, I always want to go home with you.” You smiled sweetly at him, it was the truth after all.

The drive to Steve’s was like every other time in the car with Eddie. Both of you singing along to and yelling over his music to talk, giggling at each other's dumb jokes. When you pulled into the driveway you didn’t bother getting out, letting Eddie come around to open your door. “Princesses don’t open their own doors.” He would always say.

“After you, your highness” he bowed dramatically as you exited the car, making you laugh.

“Why thank you, muh lord!” You both giggled at each other as you walked up to Steve’s door.

Eddie made sure to grab your hand and place a kiss on it, he wasn’t planning on letting you out of his grasp or sight tonight. Not after that conversation he had with Steve. It’s been eating away at him for days. Was he seriously going to ask you out? Would you say yes? He doesn’t think he could handle it if you said yes. You don’t know it but Eddie has been trying to think of a way to bring up being official to you for weeks now. What Steve said only lit a fire under his ass. Why the fuck did he tell Steve he was scared to be with you? He should’ve just been honest, he probably would’ve backed off. It’s not too late to tell him he was full of shit. Maybe he would let you out of his sight tonight just once, so he could talk with Steve.

The door opened before you could knock, revealing Steve, looking as fine as fucking ever with his hair perfect as always, his stupid fucking red crew neck and jeans fit him perfectly and you wanted to scream. Why did he have to be so goddamn pretty all the time? If he could just be ugly, or even maybe if he would be an asshole like he used to be you wouldn’t have to feel so torn looking at him. You wouldn’t feel like Eddie’s hand suddenly felt heavy in yours.

“Hey guys! You’re the first ones here, I saw you drive up.” He smiled at you as he walked over and when you reached him he grabbed your hand and pulled you by it causing your opposite hand to fall from Eddie’s, wrapping his arms around you in a welcoming embrace.

“Hi Stevie, it’s nice to see you.” You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, his scent invading your nostrils. It was comforting, not in the same familiar way as the smell of Eddie, but still comforting nonetheless. Eddie noticed the way you leaned into Steve, how the hug lingered just a little too long and he felt like someone poured acid on his insides.

“It’s nice to see you too honey. You look really pretty today.” He smiled down at you, still holding you in his embrace.

“Oh, thank you Steve.” You felt your face warm at his compliment, ducking your head into his chest in embarrassment.

“Hi Harrington.” Eddie sounded anything but pleased and your stomach whirled with a combination of anxiety and excitement. Was he jealous?

“You gonna stand there and flirt with my girl all night or are you gonna let us in?” His girl, it wasn’t the first time you heard him say that, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last, but god did it make your heart skip a beat. This time for more reason than one, you felt Steve tense at Eddie’s words and something in you wanted to comfort him, tell him you weren’t Eddie’s girl. But at the same time, you couldn’t, because it was kind of true, wasn’t it? You were his girl, in a sense.

“Your girl huh?” Steve snorted, but didn’t elaborate. Instead he released you from his hold and stepped to the side to make room for you to come in. The minute Steve let you go Eddie grabbed onto your hand again, dragging you inside behind him.

Steve was nervous to see you, he'd been rehearsing how he was going to ask you out for days. Robin told him a little bit about her conversation with you (yeah, she totally abandoned the prospect of not meddling in this situation at this point) at first he wanted to freak the fuck out on her for telling you that he liked you but when she further explained he was almost thankful. She didn’t tell him everything, but she told him enough. Enough to give him hope he had some semblance of a chance with you. When she told him that you thought he would never like a girl like you he felt like shit, because who wouldn’t love you? But of course you felt that way based on his track record. He wanted nothing more than to prove you wrong. He wanted to show you how amazing he thought you were, how amazing he always thought you were.

When he heard Eddie’s van drive up he peaked out the window and instantly almost wished he didn’t. Eddie was opening the door for you, bowing dramatically and making you giggle in that cute way that Steve had committed to memory at this point. He grabbed your hand and kissed it, you smiled up at him with a look of love in your eyes. God he wanted you to look at him like that. He decided not to waste anymore time stewing and walked over to the door to open it before you could knock. When he did, he suddenly forgot who Eddie Munson even was. You looked beautiful, you always did, but he had never seen that skirt before. It was the cutest baby pink mini skirt that had little bows on the sides. You were wearing a little white tank top that had a pink bow that matched the color of your skirt, the cutest white and pink thigh high socks, and of course your big chunky boots and studded choker that made the whole look uniquely you.

He couldn’t help but pull you away from Eddie and into his arms. He couldn’t help but tell you how pretty you looked. He had to at least say that instead of dropping down to his knees and worshiping you like he really wanted to. He also wanted to tell you how fucking good you smelled but he stopped himself, not wanting sound like a creep. He probably hugged you for a little too long, but you didn’t seem to mind. He was so lost in you he totally forgot Eddie was even there for a second before he shattered his illusion with those two simple words “my girl”.

“You got any beer Harrington?” Eddie held your hand tight as you trailed behind him towards Steve’s kitchen.

“Yeah dude, in the fridge.”

You went to release his hand so he could get his drink but he held on tighter as he used one hand to open the fridge, grab a beer, and open it. When he was done he released your hand and you started to walk towards the living area to set your bag down and check out what movies Steve got for tonight but he laced his arm around your shoulder before you could even move and tucked you into his side.

“Eddie, I’m trying to go put my stuff down, why are you being weird?” You laughed and tried to walk off again but he didn’t answer, just held you tighter. “Oh my god Eddie, seriously what’s going on??”

You looked up at him and his jaw was clenched, brows furrowed, eyes set into sluts, glaring. You followed his gaze and saw Steve looking back at him with a very similar expression.

“You guys? What the hell is going on-“ you were cut off by the sound of the doorbell and a chorus of knocks. Steve didn’t say anything, just turned around to open the door.

“UGH! What took you so long!?” Robin groaned when Steve swung the door open, she walked in followed by Nancy, Jonathon, and the kids.

“You were knocking for like two seconds and you rang the doorbell once.” Steve rolled his eyes at his ever dramatic friend before turning to greet everyone else.

Snacks were handed out, drinks poured, and pizza ordered. Everyone was cozied up around Steve’s living room on various couches and bean bangs. You of course ended up on the three person couch between Steve and Eddie and you couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse to have them both this close. All that was left to do was decide on what movie to watch, which was always a battle on nights like this.

“DUDE! You made us watch freakin Pretty In Pink last week and we’ve all seen it a million times, I’m NOT watching Ghost.” Eddie rolled his eyes at Nancy and shot daggers at Steve. He was not going to sit in a room with you and him and watch another fucking romance movie. Pretty in Pink was bad enough, he’s always hated that movie because he disagreed with the ending but now that he felt like he could end up just like Ducky he despised it even more.

“Okay well it’s not up to you MUNSON. If everyone else wants to watch it then you don’t get to bitch about it.” Steve scoffed. “You literally only ever pick horror movies and don’t give any of the other ones a chance because of your pretentious bullshit.”

“Okay well if you didn’t want to watch a horror movie why the hell did you even rent any!?” His voice raised a bit at the end, a little more than it would with their usual banter and everyone felt the tension immediately.

“Umm because she likes them, dumb ass.” Dustin butted in, pointing at you. Steve’s face went red and Eddie’s jaw clenched, the veins on his neck protruding. You felt an outburst coming on and you were not about to let him ruin movie night with his dramatics and what has become apparent to you now, jealousy.

“Okay okay how about this…Steve, you want to watch Ghost, right? And Eddie, you want to watch Child’s Play 2 since it just came out and you’re excited?” They both just nodded, like puppies listening to their owner tell them what to do. “So how about we compromise, since Steve wants romance and Eddie wants horror… How about we watch Edward Scissorhands? It’s got a little of both and I missed it in the theater so maybe we could watch that one?” You and everyone else in the room looked between them expectantly, just wanting to choose a movie at this point.

“Fuckin fine.” Eddie grumbled, crossing his arms and borrowing deeper into the leather of the couch cushions.

“Okay honey, if that’s what you want to watch I’m sure we will all enjoy it.” Steve smiled over at you, placing a hand on your knee before getting up to put the movie in.

“‘Okay honey if that’s what you want’ mehmemehe shut the fuck up.” Eddie mumbles loud enough for only you to hear.

“Oh my god, are you seriously mad right now because he agreed to stop arguing with you? I was literally about to tell you we should ask him if we can take child’s play and watch it back at your place later but if you’re gonna be a dramaaaa queeeen about it then I don’t knowwww” you said playfully rolling your eyes, trying to lighten his mood.

“Okay, fine, but only because I’m the one that gets to take you home and devour you later…” he said the last part in a hushed voice, breath tickling your ear causing a shiver to run down your spine and straight between your legs. Fuck.

Steve came and sat back down and you swear they were both sitting as close to you as possible. Steve’s Jean clad thigh is pressed up against one of your bare ones, Eddie’s on the other. Eddie has his arm around your shoulder and he’s absentmindedly playing with hair at the nape of your neck and the tips of the fingers of the hand on Steve’s thigh keep grazing along your skin. You felt dizzy, and maybe a little sweaty. You couldn’t even focus on the movie you’ve been dying to see, hyper aware of every move they made. Eddie’s hand trailed down your shoulder to caress your collarbone and he accidentally bumped Steve’s arm, noticing his hand touching your thigh. His nostrils flared and he held back the possessive growl that was building in this throat. He brought his hand under your butt and scooped you into his lap between his thighs causing you to let out a little yelp in surprise and look at him wide eyed.

“Mmm much better, just where you belong my lil bunny.” He wrapped an arm around you and possessively gripped onto the thigh Steve had been touching. You look up at Steve and he looks pissed. His breath is ragged as his eyes stare daggers into Eddie’s. Eddie just looked back at him smugly, like he was daring him to say something.

Okay something is definitely up with them and you didn’t know how to feel. Your fight or flight activated and in that moment you chose flight.

“I need to go to the bathroom, don’t worry about pausing it, I can just watch it again later.” You said abruptly getting off Eddie’s lap and dashing out of the room.

“Nice job, idiots” Nancy rolled her eyes at them.

“Yeeeahhh dude… kinda not cool.” Jonathan agreed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Pause the fuckin movie Steve.” Max scoffed.

“WHOAAAA LANGUAGE!!” Steve shouted.

“Well? You guys are idiots, she really wanted to watch this movie and you’re both silently fighting over her like we don’t all see exactly what’s going on!!” Max was not only the most upfront of the kids (aside from Dustin), but she was your kid. You and her had bounded instantly and felt very protective of one another.

“Fighting over her? What do you mean? She’s mine, there’s nothing to fight about.” Eddie said matter of factly.

“Dude!! No she fucking isn’t!! You don’t get to just-“

“Annnd there you guys go AGAIN, Max is right, we all see it and it’s getting in the way of movie night now so you guys need to figure it the fuck out! And stop fucking messing with her!!” Dustin snapped at his two older friends. The ones he’s supposed to be taking girl advice from, and here he is, giving it to them instead.

“Steve, you should go talk to her.” Robin hinted, wiggling her brows at him.

“No the fuck he should not! I’M going to talk to her because she’s MY bestfriend!!” Eddie started to get up but Steve was faster, pushing him back down by his shoulders and running down the hall after you.

“Eddie… you are always always there for her, and you introduced us to her so she would have some other people in her life that would be there for her too. Maybe just let Steve take this one, yeah?” Nancy tried to reason with him as he stood up to follow after Steve.

“That’s not what he’s doing though! He isn’t there for her as a friend, he wants more than that! She needs me right now. Her best friend, I always make her feel better.” The way he said it was like a child who got their favorite toy taken during recess.

“Now maybe it’s time to share that burden, don’t you think? Steve’s got this, just let them talk.” Robin smiled at him with what he thought was supposed to be reassurance but he felt anything but. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid all night, Steve getting you alone. Would he be better at making you feel better than he is? Was he going to ask you out? Were you going to say yes? If you did, what did that mean for you and him? He was spiraling fast.

“Whatever. I’m going to smoke.” He snapped before going out the front door and slamming it behind him.

Steve knew you didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, he’s spent enough time observing you at this point that he knows you were just overwhelmed and needed to get away. He walked past the downstairs bathroom just to be sure, but just as he thought the door was cracked and the lights were off. This had happened once before when everyone was over, it was a bit bigger of a get together, some coworkers and friends of friends so you didn’t know everyone. He could tell you were nervous from the beginning of the night so he kept an eye on you and at one point it had been a while since he’d seen you so he went looking.

He found you that night just like you are right now, sitting on the back deck on the ground, back leaning against one of his moms over expensive lounge chairs. Your legs tucked up under your arms, chin resting on your hands. You were staring off in the direction of the pool but he could tell your mind was elsewhere. He stood there for a moment, allowing himself to just admire you.

“I can feel you staring at me Steve.” You chuckled but didn’t look over at him.

“I- how did you know it was me?” He asked as he walked towards you, sitting down next to you with his legs crossed.

“I could just sense you with my super secret Steve detector, obviously.” You snorted out a laugh.

“Really? I thought I was the one who had a device to detect you, didn’t know the feeling was mutual, babe.” “Oh my GOD Steve, that was so fucking cheesy shut up.” You playfully smacked his arm. “I saw your reflection in the pool, nerd.” You pointed toward the pool, the glare of the back door shining on top of it.

“Oh, well I meant it. I feel like I can just feel your presence. Even if that’s cheesy.” He shrugged and gave you a nervous smile. “But I came out here to see if you were okay?”

It took you a second to process what he just said, did he really feel that way? You’re starting to notice how perceptive he is of you, maybe Robin and Nancy were right. “Oh uh- yeah… I’m all good. I was just getting kind of warm and overwhelmed, needed a second to myself.” You smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes and of course he notices.

“If there’s something else bothering you, you can tell me, you know that right? I know we weren’t always… friends. But I’d like to think we are now, and I like to be there for my… friends.” You don’t miss the way he chokes on that last word.

“I guess I’m just… confused? You and Eddie are being really weird, that’s not just me right?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I guess we kind of are being weird. I’m sorry.”

“What’s going on? Did something happen with you guys? Did I do something?” The look on your face broke him, you looked so confused and honestly a little bit hurt by their actions.

“No honey, you didn’t do anything. Maybe I did? I think maybe it’s my fault. I… I told Eddie I liked you, and I don’t think he’s very happy about it.” He didn’t look you in the eyes when he said it, he couldn’t, he didn’t want to see your face when you inevitably rejected him.

“I kind of figured it was something like that. Fuck.” You put your face in your hands and sighed.

“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t like me back, I totally don’t blame you if you don’t. Plus Eddie told me you guys kind of have a thing going on and I’m not going to get in the way of that. But I do like you. A lot actually.”

“God fucking damn it Steve, you just had to say it didn’t you?” At first he thought you were about to go off on him but before he could apologize you continued talking “Of course I fucking like you! It’s just- it’s complicated, okay? I’m so afraid to like you, first of all. I know you aren’t who you used to be, I know that person was never even the real you and I know you’re a good kind hearted man. But I’m still scared, I still have the memories of the things you said to my friends, and I’m just like them. How could I not think you think that way of me? Even still? It terrifies me. And then there’s Eddie… I don’t think I even know where to begin with that.”

“You like me?” He was smiling like a kid on Christmas, did he not hear anything you just said?

“Is that all you got from that? Because I said several other things after that.” You huffed.

“No I heard you, but I don’t care about any of the other stuff. All I care about is that you like me back, that means I have a chance.” He smiled at you sweetly, eyes full of hope.

“Why are you making this so much harder? With your stupid pretty face and your dumb sweet words, always checking on me and shit. UGH!” You threw your head back against the lounge chair with closed eyes.

Steve honestly loved it when you got irritated like this, even at him, he wanted to kiss your grouchy lips until you smiled.

“Listen… I know this is a complicated situation. I know Eddie like loves you or whatever and I know he’s going to get pissed off at me for telling you I like you but I don’t really care. If he isn’t going to make you his girlfriend I’ll do everything in my power to make you mine.”

Your eyes widened at his statement. I’ll do everything in my power to make you mine. And Eddie loves you? You know he does, but does he mean that he loves you for real? Did he tell him that? Fuck.

Steve noticed the way you were picking at your already chipped sparkly black nail polish, while you chewed your lip so hard it looked like you were going to break the skin, the moon reflecting off the pretty little rings that adorned your fingers. Some silver, some starting to bronze from how long you’ve been wearing them without taking them off.

“I can see you thinking from here.” He grabbed both your hands in one of his, stopping your movements and running his thumb over the back of your hand, soothing you. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go to the bookstore at the mall with me this weekend? I know that new Anne Rice book you wanted to read just came out and we could get some trashy food in the food court. Maybe even catch a movie if there’s anything good. Whatever you want.” He continued rubbing your hand, grounding you.

“Like a… date?” You looked at him with raised eyebrows, was he seriously asking you out after all of that? And he remembers the book you mentioned weeks ago in passing? Fuck. You were so fucked.

“Yeah honey, like a date.” You opened your mouth to respond but he brought his finger to your lips gently silencing you. “Let me finish before you answer, please?”

You just nodded at him.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious if you don’t want, it doesn’t even have to be a date, would I like it if it was? Yes. But ultimately I’d like to get to know you, for you to get to know me, just us. We can figure out all of the other stuff later. Just give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me. Please?”

Well how were you supposed to say no to that?

“Okay.” You grabbed his hand and smiled at him, this one reaching your eyes. “Let’s give it a try, one date, and we go from there.”

“Okay sweetie, whatever makes you comfortable, I’ll do it.” He smiled back at you, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment and you were sure he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to, so you started to lean in and just as you felt his breath against your lips you heard it. Eddie’s voice.

“Are you guys going to come watch the movie or what!? We paused it for you!!!!” He did not sound very happy. Steve stood and offered you help up, walking towards the house with you following behind him. Eddie stopped you before you could walk into the living room, grabbing you by the hips.

“You okay bunny? What was that about? I was worried.”

“Yeah Teddy, I’m okay, just got a bit overwhelmed.” You decided to wait to tell him about your date with Steve until after you left, the night was already drama filled enough. He studied your face like he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t say anything. For now at least.

“Let’s go finish this movie so I can take you home and we can ‘watch child’s play 2.’”He rolled his eyes. “Yeah riiiight, you know the only thing you’re going to be watching is my head between your thighs.”

Your breath hitched as he placed a gentle kiss on your jaw, cheek, and then finally your lips. He deepened it and you immediately fell into him, letting out a little moan. You let yourself get lost in it for a second, not wanting to think about anything other than kissing Eddie. But he broke away before you felt ready, and your face fell.

“Don’t worry bun bun, there’s plenty more where that came from when we get back to my place later.” He winked at you and placed a final kiss on your lips before gesturing you back toward the living room. Now all you had to do was sit between him and Steve for the next hour without acting like you were about to spontaneously combust and then go home with Eddie and tell him about your date with Steve.

When you walked back into the living room Steve patted the middle seat on the couch and smiled up at you, his caramel eyes twinkling like you hung the moon.

“All good honey bee?” He set his hand on your thigh and ran his thumb over the skin there and smiled at you sweetly. Honey bee? Jesus Christ, that was new.. he was officially trying to kill you.

“All good.” You smiled back and patted his hand before letting it drop at your side. But his hand didn’t budge, resting right on your thigh like it belonged there. It kind of felt like it did, if you were being honest.

Eddie walked in the room seconds behind you and sat down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders with a huff. His eyes shot daggers at Steve’s hand on your thigh before he brought his that wasn’t around you to your opposite thigh, but much higher up. His pinky played with the hem of your skirt while he squeezed the meat of your thigh. You looked down at your lap with wide eyes and your mouth agape. Two large veiny hands rested on each of your legs, one adorned with the rings you loved so much, the other decorated with an over expensive wrist watch and the weird thing was that it felt so right. You felt like your whole body was on fire, subconsciously clenching your thighs together while you let out a shaky breath. Praying neither of them noticed.

But they definitely did, you felt both their hands tense in that exact moment. Steve let out a shaky breath through his nostrils and Eddie groaned slightly in the back of his throat. You refused to make eye contact with either of them, eyes glued to their hands on your thighs, entranced. Eddie ducked his head into your neck so he could whisper in your ear.

“You like this don’t you princess? Both of us touching you like this? I can tell. You’re clenching your thighs and breathing in that way you do when you’re turned on.” Oh fuck. You don’t know what you were expecting him to say but it most certainly was not that.

“I think you do, you like the thought of us both touching you, huh?” Steve must’ve heard him because he’s whispering in your other ear and you can’t even comprehend what’s happening right now.

They’ve been at each other's throats all night and now they’re ganging up on you? You honestly don't know which is worse. Now all you can think about is both of them all over you, not that you haven’t thought about it before but in this moment you had never wanted anything more than for them to just take you. A few minutes ago your head was swimming with thoughts of anxiety and now the only two thoughts you can form in your head are their names. Eddie and Steve.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson angst #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington x Eddie munson x reader #steddie x pastel!goth reader #steddie x oc #sugar and spice #WIP #my writing #dollys fics

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cloudlessly-light · 6 months ago

Note

Hello! I love your fic where Aaron is obsessed with Ems breasts. Maybe you could write more but also Em has nipple piercing??? And Aarons obsession with it? Thank you 🫶

A/N: Thank you so much for the feedback on this story, you guys don't even know how motivating it is and it definitely made me write the next couple of chapters a lot faster!

Title: Love like mine (2/11) Chapter title: I’ll leave you hypnotized Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,2k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, dirty talk, nipple play, nipple piercings, breast fucking, Aaron loves her breasts, but who wouldn’t? cheating

It seemed like once they started, they couldn’t seem to stop. She had walked into work the following day and they lasted until the end of it before she sneaked into his office and sucked him off as he stood against the door, hiding from view as her lips wrapped around him until he was spilling down her throat with his teeth dug into his fist to keep from being heard.

And that’s the beginning of their affair, something that’s filthy, hidden behind closed doors. It was something that was theirs, that no one else knew about and they were both happy to keep it that way. Emily thought that she’d feel worse, thought she’d have some kind of regret about what she was doing. But at the end of the day she wasn’t the one who was married. Although she could see it on him sometimes, flashes of it, a split second of worry, of guilt, but then he was looking at her with nothing short of want and the guilt was gone as quickly as it came.

Behind the locked door of her apartment, nothing really existed but them, and the pleasure they chased in each other’s skin. That’s all it was, an itch that needed scratching, that still hadn’t changed. Aaron used her just like she used him, pleasures and desires shared between her soft sheets, and sometimes on other surfaces of her apartment.

He was sure he’d never be able to be inside her home without thinking about her naked. He’d be in the kitchen and remember when he bent her over the counter, both of them mostly dressed as he fucked her until the front of her thighs was bruised from the power of his thrusts and he was coming with a low groan. Or he’d walk down the stairs and think about how she hadn’t been able to wait and rode him right there on the stairs, ignoring the way the hard edges dug into his back as she mewled his name in pleasure. Then it was the couch, the shower, hell even against the large window in the living room looking out over DC, basically every surface of her home was painted with them. And he found himself loving it.

It was memories he thought of almost fondly, even as he shared a bed with his wife. Sometimes he wondered what he was doing, would look at Haley’s relaxed face as she slept beside him and it hurt knowing that he was doing something that was hurting her. But he couldn’t seem to stop, whatever it was he had found within the walls of Emily’s apartment was something he didn’t want to give up. And he was selfish enough not to.

“Do you have plans tonight?” He asks as he leans back against the counter in the kitchenette in the office. To a bystander it looked like a normal relationship between coworkers, but Emily caught the slight arch of his eyebrow right before he took a sip of his coffee and she bit back a smirk.

“No I don’t.” She took a drink out of her own mug. “What about you? Got anything fun planned with the family this weekend?” The way her eyes gleam with something dark makes him want to wrap his hand around her throat.

“No, Haley is taking Jack to visit her parents until Sunday, they should be on their way right now actually.” He can see the way her smirk turns bigger but she hides it behind the cup in her hand.

“Would you want to go with me to see a play?” Spencer interrupts them, his voice excited as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “They’re showing Oedipus Rex. It’s a Greek tragedy about a man who fulfills a prophecy by killing his father and marries his mother. It’s actually fascinating, the point of it being fate versus free will-” He starts to ramble but is quickly cut off by Emily’s amused stare as Aaron clears his throat.

“I was actually going to take it easy, maybe see an old friend.” He gives the younger man a blank stare.

“Oh, well if you change your mind it’s only about two hours.” Spencer looks to Emily who simply shakes her head.

“I’m sorry Reid, maybe another time.” She smiles at him and tries not to feel bad about lying to him. Their relationship was still strained, his behavior toward her shifting often even after she had confronted him about it.

“It’s okay.” He shrugs and picks up his mug from the counter where he had put it. “I should finish some paperwork though.” He excuses himself and heads back towards his desk.

Once he’s gone and they’re alone, her eyes find his and any thought of Spencer Reid was gone.

“Want to have a sleepover with me, Mr. Hotchner?” She grins at the way his eyes narrow slightly at her.

“A sleepover huh?” The way his voice has dropped in that familiar way sends a tingle down her spine.

“A naked sleepover.” She says it quietly, just a second of standing too close to whisper the words against his ear before she stands back and walks back to her desk.

When she turns to look at him she can see the subtle nod of agreement. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for their weekend to start.

He shows up late, later than necessary, stuck somewhere between rushing through work to get to her place and knowing that this was new, even dangerous. Their time together had so far consisted of quick trysts and goodbyes mumbled in the dead of night. They didn’t do this, didn’t spend time together, except the few minutes before and after inevitably falling into bed.

But he couldn’t deny the need he felt for her, the way his body almost shook with the all-consuming want that only got worse the closer he was to knocking on her door.

She opens it dressed in nothing but a black, sheer negligee and he peaks the small metal bars in her nipples that he loves so much shine under the lights. Ever since they started sleeping together he had loved them, had spent time playing with them and watching as Emily arched further into his touch, always wanting more.

It had been close to two weeks since he’d seen them, work and not having an excuse to sneak off to see her to Haley enough for them to not having had time together. And when they did, it was hurried, frenzied, flies zipped down and pants pulled down just enough for them to find the kind of release they’d gotten used to by now.

“Hey.” She greets him, always collected, always hard to read, still somehow a mystery to him.

“Sorry I’m late.” Any doubt he had was gone the second he laid eyes on her, the usual fog of arousal he now associated with her quickly overcoming him. He pushed her back into her apartment, hands stroking over the material of her slip.

“I was beginning to think you had changed your mind.” She sighs into a kiss, the taste of him familiar to her by now. They stumble backwards as she starts to work on the buttons of his shirt, silently curses him for not wearing something that’s easier to get off.

“I almost did.” He swallows up whatever words on her tongue by kissing her again while he strips her of the only article of clothing she’s wearing. Her back connects with the wall and he pushes her against it easily, hand quickly finding its way between her legs.

“Why?” She whispers as he teasingly trails the pad of his fingers along the seam of her, collecting her slick on every run through.

“Because of this.” He holds his other hand up, the gold ring on his finger shining as he pushes that same finger into her mouth and watches with dark eyes as she sucks it. He watches in fascination as she sucks his finger deeper, down to his wedding band where her tongue licks over it, making his hard cock ache inside his slacks.

“Like that’s stopped you before.” She says once he’s pulled his finger from her lips to gently trace her nipple.

“I tried, but you have a knack for getting what you want.” He pulls gently on her nipple and then tugs the piercing while he buries two fingers inside of her and her head falls back against the wall with a soft moan. “Besides, you like it. We both know that one of the reasons why you want me is because I’m married.”

“That’s not true.” She argues but she knew that there really wasn’t any point. He could read her better than most, had figured that out even before their first night together and he proves it as he arches an eyebrow and looks at her with eyes that seems to set her ablaze.

“Isn’t it?” He asks as his fingers curl and she can’t keep the deep groan down. “There’s my girl.” He muses as he enjoys the way her center clenches at the praise. Then his eyes wander down to her chest and he ducks his head enough to lick over one of her nipples. When he bites it just hard enough for it to sting she whimpers and he hums against her skin.

“Bedroom.” She mutters as her fingers find their way to his hair to grip the short strands, wanting him messy, to not be as put together as he always was.

“Lead the way.” His voice is thick with arousal as he steps back enough for her to take his hand and head up to the bedroom. His other hand moves over her body, can’t seem to stop touching her. Once they’re upstairs he helps her with the rest of his clothes, not caring where they land on her floor just as long as he gets some relief from the close to painful ache between his legs.

“I’ve missed these.” He mumbles against her sternum as he kisses over her chest, fingers tweaking her nipples as she arches into his touch. “There’s something about these piercings that drives me insane.” He licks over a nipple before sucking on it and he feels her fingers back in his hair, tugging hard.

“I know.” She smirks down at him from where he’s kneeling between her legs, too focused on her chest to notice the slight teasing tone of voice. “I can see how you try to see them through my shirts at work. Sometimes I’m tempted to not wear a bra.”

He groans at the thought, of Emily walking into his office in one of those damn shirts that are just bordering on being too tight and the piercings showing through the fabric and he grinds his hips against the bed.

“I’d keep you under my desk, have my cock between your tits until I’m staining them with my cum.” He hears the hitch in her breath at his words before moving up to kiss her.

“Is that what you want?” She mumbles against his lips. “To have me as your toy? To use as you see fit?” When he ruts against her and stains her thigh with precum she grins knowingly. “Dirty boy.”

He’s so lost in the feel of her soft body against his and her silky voice in his ear that he’s caught off guard when she flips them around, a low groan rumbling in his chest when she settles above him. Immediately he sits up, his large hands grabbing at her hips to pull her against him as he buries his face in her chest again, sucking and biting hard enough to leave bruises on her skin.

Emily lets him, even when her nipples start to ache from the constant stimulation from his lips and tongue, knows that he could spend hours just concentrating on her breasts if she’d allow it. Secretly, she loves how much he enjoyed her body, felt a sense of satisfaction knowing that he would worship her for hours if he could. When she sinks down on him it’s slow, her body always needing to adjust to him and as he grunts around her nipple, she grinds her hips against his.

“How do you always feel so good?” She gasps as she starts to move. Her fingers are gripping his shoulders tightly, less careful now that she knows that he’s not going straight home. He had left numerous marks on her body since they started sleeping together, it was only fair that she’d leave hers just this once.

She rides him unlike how anybody ever had, she used his body for her own pleasure and as much as Aaron loved to be the one in control, there was something about knowing how much she got off on him letting her use him this way that always made his mind hazy with arousal. He knew that his insistent mouth on her chest must be starting to hurt, her skin red, almost raw and flushed, but she only pushed her chest against his face, offering her body to him willingly and his hips pushed up in response.

His hand banded over her back, helped her move above him even as he kept her close to him. It wasn’t long until her body was starting to tense, her moans coming out louder and breathier. When her hips buckled and her fingers tugged on his hair to pull him away from her chest, he knew she was getting close.

“You look so good like this.” He mumbled quietly, knew that she needed the slight nudge of his words to fall off the edge. “Gorgeous thing, fucking my cock so well.”

“Aaron, fuck-” Her words were cut off by a sharp thrust from him and she heard the satisfaction in his voice when he spoke.

“That’s it, so pretty like this, come for me Em, let me see you.” He moved one hand from her hip to instead grab the back of her neck, his large hand easily gripping it so he could watch her face. Only moments later he felt her tense as her eyes rolled back and mouth fell open in pleasure.

Her entire body felt like it exploded as her hips moved desperately against his, a guttural groan leaving her as she came. The pleasure was close to blinding, her eyesight going blurry and the only sound she heard was the thumping of her heart. She’s still coming down when he flips them back around and starts thrusting, his hips strong against hers.

“Fucking perfect.” He mutters against her neck as he chases his own release. “So good, my filthy perfect girl.” When her lips curled into a smile he looked down at her with heated eyes.

“Fuck my tits.” She gasped and she swore he forces himself keep his release at bay. “Fuck my tits and cum like you fantasize about.”

The sound that leaves him when he crawls up her body to straddle her waist was nothing short of a growl. Graveled and low and loud as he watched his swollen shaft land between her breasts. She pushed them together and he immediately started to thrust, eyes locked on the way his head peaked out through the top each time.

“Pain my skin with it.” She encouraged him, her dark eyes locked on the wild look on his face. His jaw clenched, sweat was slowly rolling down his neck, his body tensing more with every push of his hips. “Come for me, Aaron.”

“Jesus Christ, Em.” He hissed through clenched teeth and then she ducked her head enough to swipe her tongue over the tip of him and he was coming. His fist hit the wall as he groaned, his hips twitching as his release hit her skin everywhere from between her breasts to the hollow of her throat and her chin. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight and when Emily swiped her finger through some of his cum and then licked the pad of her finger, he knew she might be the death of him.

He forcefully pulled her up to kiss him, tasting himself on her tongue with a growl and she kissed him back just as forcefully. When he pulled back her dark eyes were gleaming, his reaction to her always deeply satisfying.

“I’m going to eat you out until I’ve had my fill, and then I’m fucking you again.” He whispered against her face before moving down the bed.

She smiles and spreads her legs wider, because in what world would she say no to that?

They spend the night together, for the first time a whole night, lost in pleasure and each other and the next morning Emily wakes up to the smell of coffee coming from her kitchen. Her body aches in the most delicious way as she stretches on the bed. She grabs his shirt from the floor and puts it on, only buttoning one button in the middle of her chest before walking downstairs.

She finds him in the kitchen, pouring the coffee as eggs are cooking in a frying pan.

“Good morning.” Her voice is rough from moaning and sleep and she can tell that Aaron enjoys the way it sounds.

“Good morning.” He smiles and pushes the mug across the counter for her to take. “Did you sleep well?” His eyes rake over her frame and tries to ignore the way he finds himself liking how she looks in his clothes.

“Like a log.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “How long have you been up?” She peaks past him to see groceries she knew she most certainly didn’t have the night before on the counter.

“Not too long. I did get us some food through, you know since your fridge was empty except for wine and milk.” He teases and she arches an eyebrow in faux hurt.

“I’m sure I had something in the freezer!”

“You did not.” He laughs when she rolls her eyes at him. It was surprisingly easy, being with her this way, he thought.

“I’ll have you know you’ve just robbed my kitchen of its virginity.” It’s her turn to laugh when his eyes get big in surprise.

“Are you telling me that you’ve never cooked in here?” He puts the fried eggs on the plates along with the toast and some berries.

“I’m never home! And when I am I usually get takeout.” She defends but he only shakes his head at her. “I’ll have you know, wine, coffee and milk are all the essentials I need.”

“Emily!” He chastises, but his tone is teasing and soft as he carries the plates to the table. “I’m cooking dinner, you’re doing the dishes.” He smiles when she nods and sits down next to him happily.

It shouldn’t have been so easy, deciding to spend the day together. But neither of them wanted to worry about that. At least not now.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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hochsleep · 2 months ago

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Chapter 1: Just survive somehow

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: profanity, typical TWD violence.

• Summary: You and your little sister Lottie have to escape from the walkers in the forest. You both almost become lunch for the living dead, but suddenly you are rescued by a stranger, and thanks to persuasion you manage to get to his camp in the quarry. But it seems that the relationship between you does not work out. You will have to find an approach to him, because otherwise you will not survive.

• Word count: 4k

• A/N: Well, I've written...something. I actually have no idea how I'm going to combine this fanfic and the Daryl Dixon x OC fanfic on ao3 (there's a link in the pinned post on my profile page if you're interested), but I'm going to try. Yeah, I literally wrote in an introductory post a couple weeks ago that I wouldn't be writing big works on Tumblr and where are we now? I haven't been very consistent in what I've said. Anyways, posting the first chapter now.

I know it might be a bit boring in the beginning now, I'm not a big fan of the first episodes or chapters in series and books myself, but you have to start somewhere. I'm still just getting into the subject of Y/N fanfics, so I'll be learning as I write the work. What I can say now.

Please correct me in the comments if you find mistakes! Of course, I double-check my work before publishing, but something could still slip through. Especially since you, as an English-speaking audience, will be more attentive to turns of speech, slang and so on. Let me remind you that English is not my native language and I use a translator (you can read more about it in the attached post in my profile). So feel free to make corrections, I am always open to help and constructive criticism!

Oh, and also, congrats to everyone on the release of TWD: Daryl Dixons season 2!

Enjoy reading!

Then.

"Come on, Lottie, hurry up!" - you shouted to your little ten-year-old sister, who ran after you between the trees in the forest.

“Y/N!” a little girl shouted, following you but lagging behind every now and then.

A few walkers was getting closer, and it was like Lottie could barely move her legs. She had to run faster. She should have saved herself. But could you blame a ten-year-old girl? She’d had to lose her family and friends in the last few days, and there were the living dead walking the earth. The world has changed at the snap of a finger. Lottie probably still hoped it was just a bad dream.

You too.

You had to watch your neighbor across the street, Mrs. Faulkner, pounce on your mother and start biting chunks of skin off her neck without much effort. That's hardly realistic. But that's life now. All those radio warnings about a virus spreading in Europe turned out to be true. That it was incurable. That the dead will rise up and walk the earth again. That their bite would kill you and make you come back to life after a while. It all seemed so distant and unrealistic that you, like most Americans, just changed the channel on the TV or radio when you heard the news of the virus again. After all, there's been a lot of crap and "incurable" diseases throughout human history. If a plague in the Middle Ages couldn't kill the entire world's population, why would some disease do it in 2010 when medicine is booming almost everywhere in the world? Bullshit.

Where are you now? Running with your little sister through the woods while at least four walking corpses are chasing you? This whole thing really does feel like a cheap horror movie. Or a scary dream. A scary dream in a cheap horror movie.

“Lottie! You can’t stop!” you screamed while your little sister looked back and slowed down at every opportunity.

You had a hard time running yourself. Not that you’ve been a fanatic about physical activity in all the years of your life. Yoga and Pilates were your max and only on feel-good days. But the adrenaline in your blood was doing its thing and it allowed you to run faster and longer. Which was not the case with your sister. The girl was tired and breathing hard. She kept looking back to see how close the walkers were to the two of you, even though you had forbidden her to look back.

“Y/N, they’re close! They’re going to catch up with us!” shouted Lottie panting.

You started frantically looking around for a place to take cover. Apparently Lottie wouldn’t be able to run for much longer. You were breathing hard, too, and your legs were sore from the exertion. You had to hide. But where the hell could you hide in the middle of the woods? In the long run, you could hide behind a large tree, but the walkers had already spotted you and were following you, so that option was no longer viable. Climb a tree? You could if you knew how to climb trees. But even so, how long can you and Lottie stay in a tree? You’d have to come down sooner or later, and walkers don’t feel tired or weak, so you couldn’t expect them to give up and fall asleep at some point. No, they’re going to wait until the food comes down from the tree. And again, you can’t climb trees. But Lottie can. What are the chances she’ll agree to climb a tree while you distract the walkers? What’s the chance you’ll survive? How’s she gonna get back down and survive in the woods alone? She’s barely ten years old, for goodness sake, and she didn’t get out into the wild until the last few days! You're all she's got. She's all you have. So it’s just the two of you hiding and surviving together.

“Come on, sweetie, just a little more!” you grabbed your sister’s hand and dragged her forward.

Now.

“Carl! That’s not fair!” shouted Lottie as the boy stuffed the last five hazelnuts into his mouth and grinned cockily.

“It’s all fair, whoever got there first takes it all,” Carl said with his mouth full.

“I’ve just turned my back and you’ve already eaten it all! We’re out of nuts!” frowned Lottie.

“Daryl will find more when he goes hunting,” Carl only shrugged innocently.

“Then you’ll have to ask him yourself,” Lottie snorted and got up from the plaid she and Carl were sitting on.

Lottie approached Carol and Sophia, who were ironing clothes. Sophia’s father was a cruel man as far as Lottie could tell. He had forbidden his daughter from playing with the other two children at camp simply because he had decided to. And now the creepy man sat on a folding chair with a bottle of beer in his hand and strictly made sure Sophia stayed close to her mother and helped her with her “women's responsibilities” as he called it. It sucked.

“Hi, Sophia,” Lottie smiled at the girl, “and Mrs. Pelletier,” she nodded to Carol.

“Hello, honey,” Carol smiled gently at the girl. Sophia looked at her father warily and not noticing the vehement objection on his face, she smiled and nodded to Lottie.

“Carl ate all the nuts, but I brought you what I managed to salvage,” Lottie pulled a few hazelnuts out of the pocket of her jean shorts and held them out to her friend.

“Thank you,” Sophia said quietly and quickly tucked the nuts into her pocket while her father turned away.

“When can you play with me and Carl? Maybe tonight?” asked Lottie hopefully.

“Maybe tomorrow?” answered Carol for Sophia when she saw her head lowered frustratedly. “I’ll talk to Daddy, honey,” said the woman to her daughter, stroking her back.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Lottie sighed and went on to find something else to do besides playing with Carl. She was still mad at him a little about the nuts.

You were on duty on the roof of Dale’s motorhome, a kindly older man who tried to change you every twenty minutes and told you to go get some rest. But the duty was actually a rest. You just sat on a folding chair on the roof of the car and watched the surroundings. Dale and Glenn were basically doing the same duties, only with a shotgun in hand. Just in case. You weren’t trusted with a shotgun. It didn’t make much sense since you couldn’t shoot. And you weren’t very good at close combat. So you just had to keep an eye on the area around the camp and warn them of possible danger. It’s no big deal. Except that the merciless Georgia sun was as hot as anywhere in Africa. It seemed that way to you, anyway. You were sweating in every part of your body, your hair sticking to the damp skin on your back, your clothes wet with sweat, and you were as tanned as if you’d gone to a tanning salon. The only thing that kept you warm was the powdered lemonade Dale had made, some old nature magazine from the glove compartment of Shane’s jeep, and the cowboy hat Andrea had lent you. Even though you've spent the last ten years of your life in Georgia, you've managed to hide from the heat until this day. Whether at home in your stepdad's garage under a fan while he blames his barely living car. Or at work in the supermarket by the house. There were old air conditioners that you thought were your age, but you didn't complain as long as they worked. Especially hot days you spent in a cozy old cafe from the 50's, where your mother worked as a waitress and let you lounge for hours in the coziest booth close to the fan. In general you had no need to sit under the sun in such hellish heat without a hint of shade. How could there be any shade on the roof of an old mobile home? You have to melt like a piece of butter on toast.

You heard someone climbing up the ladder to the roof. It definitely wasn't Dale, you'd have realized from his static grunts. It was Lottie. Her old pink cap appeared before you saw your sister.

“Hey,” you smiled at your little sister, “I thought you were hanging out with Carl and Sophia.”

“Carl’s a jerk today, and Sofia can’t play with us, her dad won’t let her,” the girl snorted and sat on your lap, because sitting on the sun-hot roof of the car wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Hey, I’d take a swear jar from you right now,” you tried to look at Lottie with a stern big sister look, but it never really worked. It looked ridiculous and hardly got any respect from the kid.

“Sorry,” the girl sighed, “but Carl is really behaving badly today. He ate the last of the nuts while I was distracted and didn’t even have a chance to protect them…”

“Are you really upset about the nuts?” you chuckled.

“No, more of an injustice…I was hoping we’d split the nuts fairly between the three of us, but Carl ruined it,” Lottie rested her head on your shoulder sitting on your lap.

It was so damn sweet. The way Lottie loves you. There’s often tension between sisters, but not in your family. Charlotte was born when you were 13 and that’s a really big difference, but you always wanted a brother or sister. And even though sometimes you had to miss seeing your friends to take care of Lottie when Mom and your stepfather, your little sister’s father, were working late, you still loved Charlotte with all your heart. Although it’s hard not to love her. She had a mild-mannered personality, rarely acted cranky, and sometimes acted like a little adult. At least you were a more rambunctious child at her age, according to your mother and other relatives. Only as you got older did you become a calm and peaceful person, and as a child you could afford to kick the asses of the boys who hurt you in junior high school. Charlotte, on the contrary, preferred to solve conflicts peacefully and disliked violence already at the age of ten. The age when children can be really violent, but your sister was not. Now, however, she seems to be really angry with Carl. But it’s probably because of all the stress you’ve both been under for the past three weeks. Everyone’s been on edge right now. That’s the way the world is now.

“I’ll find you some new nuts in the woods,” you said, stroking your sister’s soft hair.

“You’re afraid to go into the woods,” sighed Lottie.

“I’ll ask Glenn or Amy to come with me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask Daryl? “Lottie looked at you in anticipation.

Oh, that’s right. Daryl. Well, that was a bit of a problem.

Then.

You tugged at Lottie’s arm, who was stumbling at almost every step. The walkers were coming faster and faster. Your courage and confidence were running away from you just as fast. But you did not let go of your sister’s hand and kept moving forward.

“Y/N!” the little girl’s shrill cry echoed throughout the forest.

You turned around and saw one of the walkers grab the hood of Lottie’s sweatshirt. A tall man with a rotten open wound near his collarbone, with gray cadaverous skin, white eyes, and rotten teeth and nails. Death itself came closer than ever to you and your sister. And you had no idea what to do.

“No! Let her go!” you screamed in panic at the walker as if he could understand you.

“Y/N!” large tears flowed down the little girl’s cheeks.

You closed your eyes, preparing for the worst. You knew it would happen sooner or later. From the moment your neighbor ate your mother. From the moment your stepfather John set himself up to feed the walkers two days ago so you and Lottie could escape. Since the world died. You knew you were going to die, too. And your ten-year-old sister, who didn’t have time to live. It has to happen, whether you’re ready or not. But you are ready. Death has taken over the world now, and who are you to fight it? You just hoped that you and Lottie wouldn’t have to suffer and…

With a dull thud, the arrow pierced the forehead of the walker that had grabbed Lottie and he finally fell to the ground dead. Lottie threw herself into your arms without thinking, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist and sobbing into your chest. You looked around in incomprehension until you saw a man with a crossbow. He put down the remaining three walkers with the remaining arrows. Clearly and without missing. Like he’d done it every day before the outbreak.

Man paused, looking at you and Lottie sobbing in your arms, and then without a word walked over to the corpses to pull his arrows from their skulls. Right now, however, you didn’t have the strength to say a few words. You didn’t have the strength to say a barely audible “thank you” for saving your life. The man looked at you, chewing his lower lip and without saying anything, lowered his head and walked away as if nothing had happened now. It would have been nice to stop him. But you were still standing still.

Now.

Daryl was sitting on a log outside his and Merle’s tent on the outskirts of the rest of the camp. He was cleaning squirrel blood off his arrows and hunting knife. Well, thanks to him, the camp wasn’t starving. Lottie and Sophia didn’t like eating something cute like squirrels, but there’s no choice. And while you weren’t thrilled about it either, better squirrels than the inedible berries you and Lottie had been poisoned with before you got to camp at the quarry. It was… unpleasant. You almost silently approached his “Dixon den,” as Shane called the tent of the brothers who preferred to stay away from the main group. But for an experienced hunter and tracker like Daryl, it wasn't hard to hear the branches crunching under your feet. Of course he noticed. Daryl turned toward you, where you froze for a moment between the bushes and snorted.

“What do you want, girl?” he asked, staring again at the dirty arrow in his hand..

“Hey,” you smiled shyly and moved a little closer, not noticing the vehement protest on his part. “Am I interrupting you?”

“If I tell you what you’re doing, will you leave?” Daryl didn’t look away from his work, still not looking at you.

“I don’t know…I guess?” you shrugged uncertainly. You didn’t want to annoy him, but you had promised something to your little sister. And yourself too.

“So what do you want? A chat? That’s not for me,” Daryl shook his head.

“I wanted to ask you for help to be honest,” you pursed your lips as you always did when you felt uncomfortable.

“Try it,?” Daryl finally lifted the piercing gaze of his gray-blue eyes to you and you felt even more uncomfortable.

“Take me with you on your next hunt,” you blurted out, deciding it wasn’t worth beating around the bush. Not with Daryl Dixon.

“No,” he answered immediately and went back to cleaning his weapon.

“Daryl, please,” you insisted. Not that you expected him to answer any differently. “I need to learn at least the basics of wilderness survival. You probably remember the state you found me and Lottie in in the woods…I can’t let that happen again.”

“Why? You’ve warmed up to a camp with people who can handle weapons. Just stay close to them,” Daryl snorted.

“I’m not stupid, Daryl, I realize this isn’t forever and sooner or later we’re all going to have to separate. When that happens, there’s no one to protect Lottie but me,” you sounded more determined than usual. Of course, it took a few days to pull myself together. “So I’m asking you to help me. Teach me how to track prey and how to tell poisonous plants from edible ones. Please.”

“Look, you’re sure of yourself, huh? Coming in here and making demands like I owe you,” Daryl was starting to get annoyed, it was obvious. He didn’t like the way you were being pushy, asking him for something like you had a right.

“I’m not making demands, I’m asking for help,” your confidence began to wane after his words. Daryl didn’t know you well. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have had the nerve to call you cocky. Or just at least a little bit of confidence.

“I’ve already helped you out on my own head…I won’t do it again, you’re not a goddamn charity case here,” Daryl chuckled.

“Okay, then what do you want in return?” you asked firmly.

The question wasn’t about your curiosity about wildlife, your life and your little sister’s life depended on you. Your only family. This is not a case where you can afford to back down and give up.

“As if you have anything to offer,” snorted Daryl dismissively.

"What would you want?" you asked, hugging yourself tighter around your shoulders in a protective gesture.

Daryl's right. What the hell could you offer him? In this current world, money has no value. Not that you had a lot of it, but it was the first thing you thought of out of habit. Then what? Daryl is an excellent hunter who has all the necessary survival skills and is good with a gun. That's why you asked him for help and not anyone else. Shane could teach you how to shoot, which would undoubtedly be very useful in the current circumstances, but it's not enough to survive in the woods without a group. Not without someone like Daryl, who is as well adapted to life in the wilderness as you could tell from a week of knowing him.

Back to the question, what could you offer him? What would Daryl Dixon want?

"I want you to talk less and get back on your own," Daryl squinted looking at you for a few seconds and then lowered his head again. The conversation wasn't going well.

"Why did you save me and my sister in the forest? Why did you bring me here? We might live a little longer being in a group, but when this is all over, we're both going to be eaten, so why did you have to build up to this moment?"

Daryl was silent. Like that day a week ago before he brought you to camp. Really, why did he do that? He felt sorry for Lottie. A dirty little girl, messed up to death. You didn't look like you really tried to save her during the walker attack and Daryl wondered why. How scared were you? Didn't believe in your own strength? Did you want to die? He didn't know. But he knew for sure he wasn't going to let a child be eaten alive by a rotting reanimated corpse. Not in this world. Would Daryl have helped you if you were alone in the woods? He wasn't sure. You seemed resigned to your situation and didn't try to escape, so why would he rescue you?

He already did anyway. And dragged you both to the camp. And then that same night he had a fight with Shane, who wasn't sure about the idea of leaving you here. And he got a good laugh from Merle, who thought he was being too kind to someone in the Dixon family. But you don't need to know that. You're lucky it was Daryl and not Merle who came across you in the woods. You'd be wandering around the woods now, rotting from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to eat anything alive. Just like your sister.

"Your sister needed a place and I helped you, that's the whole story," Daryl only nodded his shoulder.

"Why?" you persisted.

"Damn it, girl, what are you babbling about! I helped you, who cares why?" Daryl frowned and abruptly stood up from his seat in a flash of anger.

"I just..." you cringed at his loud tone and backed away slightly.

"Stop bugging me with this, okay? I saved you and your little girl, that's it! That's all you're gonna get from me, you understand? I don't want to teach you anything, I don't need you, save yourself!" Daryl waved his hand, yelling at you and you didn't even realize why you pissed him off so easily.

You looked at him frowning in incomprehension. Why the hell is he yelling at you for no good reason? And looking so angry, like you'd done something terrible to him. You didn't understand Daryl Dixon and his mood swings. That's why you tried to stay away from him, especially the first couple days. You were grateful to him for saving you, but he didn't seem like someone you'd easily connect with. And Daryl had just proven that to you again. You only came to him with the request because no one else could handle it but him. But apparently he's really not interested in this at all. You didn't want to and couldn't force him. You just hoped that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as rude and aloof as he seemed at first glance. After all, he wouldn't have saved you if he was the way he showed himself to others. You'd just have to find a way to approach him and then maybe something would work. But now you weren't so sure.

"Well?! Don't look at me like that, get out of here!" he shouted one last time, turning away from you.

You snorted disappointedly, and after staring at his back for a few seconds, you turned around and hurried back to camp. You were mad at Daryl, that was for sure. Just like Lottie was mad at Carl, but you had a better reason than a handful of nuts. And you might have wanted to yell back at him, but not that it made sense. You'd learned to control your negative emotions a long time ago, and you weren't about to let years of self-discipline go down the drain because of Daryl Dixon. That's on him. Maybe you'll try again later when you've both cooled down, but definitely not in the next few days.

Daryl was difficult, but you have to find an approach to him. Not for your own sake. Certainly not for him. For Lottie. For the chance to prolong her life as long as you could.

Then.

“Hey!” you followed the stranger after a few moments of daze.

You almost lost sight of him, but he wasn’t trying to be quiet, and you could still hear the sound of his footsteps on the leaves on the ground. So as soon as your body began to obey you again, you followed him, holding Lottie’s hand tightly in yours. The man didn’t stop no matter how many times you called out to him. How rude. But in the present world, one didn’t think much of it. And you didn’t know him, but he wasn’t exactly friendly before the end of the world. And yet, you stopped the man from grabbing his wrist when you caught up with him. He turned around and looked at you with a frown, immediately pulling his hand from your barely perceptible grip with force. You seemed to have hit something wrong.

“Thank you,” was the first thing you said when he finally paid attention to you.

“Forget it,” wheezed the man with the familiar Southern accent you never got in the ten years you’d lived in Georgia.

“What’s your name?” you persisted.

“Go where you’re going,” the man snorted and turned away again to walk away.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” you said before he could get a few steps away from you and Lottie, “I…I mean we have nowhere else to go.”

The man stopped for a moment without turning around, as if thinking about something.

“Do you live somewhere? Somewhere with people? You’re the first person I’ve seen in a week…I mean of living people,” you stared at his back without stopping to speak.

Hope flared in you. If there are still people alive, then you and Lottie have a chance.

But the man didn’t answer, only turned to glance at you. Your tangled hair, tied back in a low ponytail, your dirty knit sweatshirt over your once-white T-shirt, your mid-thigh jean shorts that were also dirty and torn on the side of your left leg, your broken knees with blood on them, your worn and dirty yellow sneakers. He looked at the little girl next to you. She had big eyes like yours. And while yours looked at him with weariness and a mute request you still hadn’t spoken aloud, hers were full of fear. Her long hair, braided into two pigtails, was also disheveled, and twigs and dry leaves were sticking out of it from the fact that she had been on the ground under the walker that had tried to eat her. Her denim overalls were stained with the rotting blood of the living dead, and the hood of the sweatshirt she wore over the rest of her clothes was now torn off. There was only one rubber boot on the girl’s feet, the other having come off in the process of escaping from the walkers. The man thought it must be very uncomfortable to run around in rubber boots. The girl held your hand and appeared behind your back, gingerly looking at her savior.

“Y/N, I’m scared…” said Lottie quietly, pressing her cheek against your hand.

Y/N. The man mistook you for this girl’s mom. A very young mom. But it seems that wasn’t the case. Although the two of you had enough outward similarities to think you were related to each other.

“Do you have a place to stay? Please…we’ve been walking through the woods for three days without food or water,” you asked quietly.

The man looked at you with a piercing stare and was still silent. But he didn’t stay silent for long.

“Please,” Lottie said even more quietly, looking out at him from behind you. And then he gave up.

How could he refuse to help a little hungry girl in one rubber boot.

“Follow me,” he said, looking into your eyes for a second, and then turned and walked on, expecting the two of you to follow him.

Of course you both did. Now the hope in your heart is much brighter.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd fanfiction

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security-chief-odo · 11 months ago

Text

To Love and Be Loved in Return - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 & 2 & 3

Roy Kent x Reader

Description: Between you, Roy, and Keeley, who will spill the beans first?

Note: Hope you’re ready for fluff because oh boy is that all I felt like writing tonight.

Word Count: 2.3k

• • •

Chapter 4 - Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

Roy’s knuckles go white as he grips the wheel, trying to find his composure along the journey. He knew he would obviously see you again and have to reckon with his feelings now that he couldn’t just throw a pity party for himself over a rejection he hadn’t even gotten. One that he may not even get.

That little spark of hope that has only just crept into his heart might be the thing that breaks him. It’s that hope that has him imagining what it would be like if you were his actual date to the gala. It’s that hope that has him picturing you in his arms after a hard day at work. It’s that hope that has him imagining your lips on his after the team wins a game. It’s that goddamned hope that has his palms sweaty and heart racing faster than he knew it could as he pulls up to the club.

He pulls up outside the bar and sees the three of you standing together. Keeley is the first to notice his car and corrals you all in his direction. The excited smile that crosses your face as you notice his arrival is enough to make his heart melt. He can’t let himself read into that though, you’d probably be just as excited for an Uber driver considering how fucking late it is.

Of course, he’s lying to himself though, because he does read into it just a little. He does get his hopes up that even a fraction of that excitement was specific to him.

Keeley and Rebecca guide you to the car, perhaps using your drunkenness to expedite their matchmaking as they guide you to the passenger seat. It’s only when you get buckled and they’ve already settled into the backseat that you realize what they’ve done. You couldn’t complain too much at getting to be close to the man you had so clearly fallen for, but Keeley was about to give you reason to complain.

She is sitting behind Roy, so you can see the smile on her face as she begins what could best be described as a transparent attempt to make Roy jealous. “So, y/n, who was that tall guy you gave your number to earlier?”

Bummed at hearing this and completely oblivious to the mischievous smirk adorning Keeley’s face, Roy feigns casual interest, “Oh?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You whip your head around to reply to Keeley, not wanting Roy to think you’re unavailable, “It’s not like that and you know it.”

This piques Roy’s interest and he begins to steer the conversation, “Then do you give your number out to just any strange man?”

“No, not my number,” you clarify, “Beard’s.”

“What?” he asks, now more confused than he was jealous.

“So one time I was at the Crown and Anchor with Beard and some creep just wouldn’t back off. Eventually I relented and gave him my number just to make him go away. Beard told me to start giving out his number instead of my own to creeps. He gets to enjoy scaring shitty men and I get to enjoy a peaceful night with my friends with no creepy texts in the morning. It’s a win-win situation”

“That’s fucking brilliant” Rebecca chimes in, “I’ve got to start doing that shit.”

“So you didn’t find a date tonight?” Roy asks, trying too hard to be nonchalant about it.

“Wasn’t looking.” you reply more to the window than to him as a faint blush crosses your features.

He pulls up to Rebecca’s house first, and when she gets out Keeley adjusts to the middle, using the opportunity to finally see Roy’s face, and try to figure out if he feels the same for you. It doesn’t take long for her to see the softness that he looks at you with, but it will certainly take longer for her to get him to admit it.

“Since I’m taking her shopping tomorrow, you should probably tell me what color you’re wearing.”

Knowing your friend too well, you brace yourself for this conversation. Her lack of subtlety only worsened when alcohol was in the mix. “Don’t worry about it Keeley. He’s not bringing me as an actual date anyways. We don’t have to match.”

Roy is kicking himself for being so obvious with his feelings. Keeley could read him like a book and this was her idea of either teasing or being helpful. He hasn’t quite figured out which. “I don’t know yet. I try not to think much about that stupid event. If it wasn’t for a good cause I wouldn’t even go to the fucking thing.”

“But Cheryl would miss you if you stopped going.” She has definitely settled on teasing then.

“Fuck Cheryl.” he rolls his eyes. He is not looking forward to another year with her as the highest bidder. She may not be as bad as he made Jamie think, but the idea of going on a date with anyone other than you makes him feel sick.

“You would if she got her way.” you chime in.

At your teasing Roy can feel that heat in his face, “She won’t. I’m not interested in her.”

“But you are interested in someone?” she adds barely letting him finish his own sentence.

He growls, “I didn’t say that.”

“But you still aren’t denying it.” Keeley says with a smirk evident in her sing-songy voice. Though she is clearly taking this as confirmation he likes you, you sink into your seat hoping it swallows you whole. Him liking somebody doesn’t mean he likes you. Then she asks the question you’ve both been dreading, “So who is she?”

“She’s none of your business.” Roy lets out a huff. If he wasn’t certain Keeley knew he liked you before, he definitely knows now.

“Come on!” Keeley whines, knowing she won’t get her way but enjoying watching him squirm all the same. “Tell me who’s captured the attention of the Roy Kent.”

He has taken to ignoring her prodding in hopes that she’ll get bored or at least give it up for the minute or two left in the drive to her flat.

His hopes are quickly shattered by her adding “Is it someone we know?”

Now that’s a question he can’t answer. If he does, he’ll give everything away, and if he can’t have you, he’d at least like to not lose you.

Lucky for Roy though, you seem to have gotten tired of this subject too. “Knock it off Keeley.” you roll your eyes at her, trying your best to play at being casual.

The car ride continues in relative silence until you arrive at Keeley’s. She gets out and cheerfully yells bye at both of you. Winking at you both, though each of you assume it is directed at only yourselves.

Once the car is finally moving again, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. Even in your inebriated state, you can still feel the full force of the embarrassment Keeley brought on in her attempt to play wingman. You sigh, “Sorry about her. All of that really. It was pretty invasive.”

He smiles ever so slightly and glances at you before looking back at the road and replying, “No worries. Not your fault. I know she’s just drunk. She’s always a little nosy, but never more so than when she’s drunk.”

You both chuckle at how true that was. You can’t help recalling all of the strangers Keeley has practically interrogated on past nights out. “Yeah, she gets that way, but it is kind of my fault. She was just trying to help me out and she overstepped.”

You don’t quite register how revealing your words are until he parks just outside your flat. “What do you mean?” Roy has turned entirely to face you.

In this moment, you have half a mind to run out of the car and straight into your flat and bury yourself in pillows hoping sleep will make you forget this night ever happened. Though it must be true what they say about alcohol being liquid courage because you don’t move towards the door, but instead you turn to face Roy.

“Fuck it.” you let out a sharp breath and begin. “It’s stupid and kinda embarrassing, but I have feelings for you. She found out today and has been pestering me about it all night. I’m sorry, I didn’t think she’d bother you with it or –”

He cuts you off with a groan of “Fuck” but you continue, reading his reaction as confirmation of your every fear.

“That I’d be telling you for that matter. I didn’t really want you to find out, certainly not like this. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll text Rebecca and have her move me to work under a different department if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Wait” he cuts in again.

“I can even look for a new job. I like it at Richmond but I know this probably ruins our friendship and I don’t want to make things weird for you at work too. It’s really no big deal.”

Finally frustrated with your flat refusal to listen to him he yells your name. This gets your attention and for the first time since you started rambling, you make eye contact with him. “Stop talking for a second, y/n”

“Ok” you reply. You immediately failing at the request makes him roll his eyes at you.

“Please don’t quit. I have been freaking out all week because I’ve been head over heels for you for months now and I was finally trying to ask you out.”

“What?” you look at him in sheer confusion. Just minutes ago the man groaned in frustration at your confession. You never would have guessed it was because he returned your feelings.

“I asked you to be my date to the gala.”

“But then you told me it wasn’t a date”

Stumbling over himself he continues “Well – I – You’re the one who replied to me asking you on a date by telling me I’m the best boss. That one’s kind of your fault too.” He drops the defensiveness and continues on. “Then I asked you to lunch today, but you had plans already. Fuck. You don’t make it easy to ask you out.”

“I can tell because you still haven’t actually done it.” you tease.

He grumbles in response. “You’re right. Y/n, I am madly in love with you. Would you please do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“Hm. Let me think about it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare start that shit,” he scowls and points at you accusatorily. Although he won’t say it right now because the last thing he needs is more smugness from you, that playful smile has his stomach doing flips. It is probably his favorite expression of yours. You look so unburdened when you’re having fun like this, even if it is at his expense.

“Absolutely. I’d love nothing more than to be your girlfriend Roy.”

Over the moon at your response, he finally realizes the late hour. “Let me walk you up to your flat. Wait there.”

He turns off the car and walks around to your side. He opens the door for you and steadies you as you step down. When you get up to your flat you’re barely not stumbling. Between the exhaustion, the heels, and the alcohol in your system, it feels like a miracle when you reach your door. You hand Roy the keys and he gets the door for you, his left hand still on your back to guide you. He walks you to your bedroom, finds you pajamas to change into, and closes the door as he leaves the room to give you privacy.

You call out from the other side, “Scared you’ll like what you see too much?”

“Shut up and get dressed,” he responds, his tone clearly light. He moves to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and some ibuprofen, both of which you will definitely need come morning. He knocks gently on the bedroom door, “You decent?”

“Sadly, yes.” you reply. He opens the door and seeing your sleepy eyes light up leaves him in awe of you.

He swiftly crosses the room to place the pills on your bedside and the water on a coaster next to it. He pulls back the blanket on your bed and gestures to the space below it. “Come on, y/n. You need some rest.”

You settle into your bed and look up at him. “Can I get a goodnight kiss from my boyfriend?”

“Not tonight.” he replies as he tucks you in.

You pout at this response and ask, “Please?”

“Nope”

“Why not?” you whine.

“You’re drunk”

“And? It’s just a kiss. Why should that matter?”

He leans in and you think he’s going to give you your way, but he stops just shy of your lips and whispers gruffly, “When I kiss you for the first time, I want to be sure it’s fucking memorable.”

With that he pulls away and you're a little more turned on than you’d like to admit. The anticipation for something as simple as a kiss, has turned you into a sleepy pile of mush. Okay, maybe it was the alcohol that did most of that, but It sure didn’t help.

He turns to leave and you call out, “Roy?”

He turns to you and cocks his head slightly in confusion.

“Can you stay the night?”

“Of course. I’ll be on the couch. If you need me, don’t hesitate to wake me up. Goodnight y/n”

“Goodnight.” you doze off into a far more pleasant sleep than you expected.

• • •

Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten @taytaylala12 @siriuslyreads @ashy-kit @isla-finke-blog @laukora1030 @tamberjo @queen-of-the-downtown-scene @harry-bowie-mercury

#reader insert #roy kent x reader #roy kent/reader #roy kent #roy Kent Ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #Ted lasso #brett goldstein #idiots in love #love confessions #fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff #roy kent fluff #Roy Kent’s foul mouth #to love and be loved in return #keeley jones #rebecca welton

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qwimblenorrisstan · 3 months ago

Text

Stitching Us Together

Chapter 2: The Puzzle

Summary: Following the previous night’s bizarre events, and the consequences it had brought, the group of four is back at it again, this time with one more puzzle piece than before.

Word Count: ~ 3.9k

Warnings: allusions to death, violence, military things, bri getting policed and parented, sassy teenagers, awful school food, nothing terrible

A/N: help I love writing for this story so much I wrote 2k words in my study block, I think I’m finally getting the hang of accents + writing for multiple characters at the same time, so now I’m just going to try and slowly flesh things out and make sub-conflicts, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

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Junior was just praying to whatever gods that would listen that his dad didn’t find out.

And that Bri wouldn’t snitch.

He’d already had enough talks of “responsibility” and showing a “good example” for Josie and some of his younger relatives, even if they were worse behaved than him, and he hadn’t done anything that bad at their age.

“That oatmeal done something to you?”

His father’s ruddy voice, raspy from his previous years of smoking, interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up, finding his father wearing a black beanie, beard combed out, but he could still see the bits of sleep clinging to the corners of his eyes. Junior’s bowl of oatmeal for breakfast lay in front of him, almost untouched, other than a few little cat bites he’d taken.

“No, just…tired.”

His dad raised a brow, knowing it wasn’t like his son to be so distracted. He must’ve known the anxiety he saw in his brown eyes, because he let out a breath, sitting down in an old wooden chair that creaked under his weight. The bus would be coming by soon.

He really should finish the oatmeal.

“Doesn’t have anything to do with what Brianna was doin’ last night, does it?”

He tried not to look too guilty. Brianna wouldn’t have snitched on the rest of them being out there, but she hadn’t gotten into contact with anyone since being taken home by the police. Hadn’t responded to any of their calls or anything. Hadn’t even read all of the texts Isla had sent.

“What’d she do?”

Keep your head down.

Don’t avert your eyes.

He tried not to focus on how his hands were sweating around the spoon he held, digging into the oatmeal and shoving a bite into his mouth just to keep from saying something stupid or outright admitting it, which was hard under his father’s piercingly blue stare.

Junior didn’t think a minute had ever been longer, when eventually his father let out a little humph, adjusting his beanie, when his mum walked in just in time to save him from whatever his dad had been about to say.

“Now what’s going on in here, boys?”

Her eyes went to him, a brow expectantly raised, expecting an answer.

“Nothin’, mum.”

The sound of a heavy vehicle sighing outside reached his ears, and he got up, scraping what was left of his oatmeal out into the trash, pulling his backpack over his shoulder.

“Bye.”

He mumbled, his father giving him a firm look when he glanced back, only for Junior to board the bus faster than ever before, sitting down on one of the blue leathery seats.

The school was right up the street, but his parents always insisted he take the bus, for whatever reason, as if he’d get mugged while walking a mile or two down the road. Bri and Isla took the bus too, while Charlotte was usually at her dad’s restaurant in the mornings, being driven by her dad when she was in his custody. Her mom had her take the bus when she was over at her house.

However, Brianna wasn’t here today, and only Isla was, right across from Junior to his left. She quickly noticed him, shifting over to the right to lean in and whisper to him.

“Have you heard from her?”

He shook his head, not missing the anxiety in Isa’s tone.

“It’ll be fine, maybe she just overslept, you don’t know.”

He suggested, at this point just trying to keep the girl’s nervousness down. It was pretty obvious, from the way her leg was bouncing.

“But we still don’t know who that person was, and if she’s walking to school, what if they’re waiting or something? And she hasn’t answered any texts either or called me back. I mean, I know she’s dry, but she always-“

“Isla.”

She must’ve realized she was rambling, because she slumped into her seat with a sigh, and Junior put a hand on her shoulder. He made her look like an ant, and he just now realized that.

“Her dad probably took her phone, and jumping to conclusions about last night isn’t going to help anyone. We can talk to her once we get to school. You have second and third block with her, right?”

“Yeah..”

“Exactly, and Charlie’s with you almost the entire day, so am I, we’ll manage.”

She breathed out a sigh as the bus stopped, wheels beginning to slow as the large, old vehicle also sighed as if to match her, the small doors on the side opening as everyone began filing out.

Predictable as ever, Charlie was standing with a hand on her hip by the entrance of the school, scanning through the crowd for them, finding the two of them, and cocking her head to the side in silent question.

He shook his head once.

She pursed her lips but didn’t question it further as the three of them grouped up.

“About time.”

She said, giving both Junior and Isla a look.

“For the millionth time, we can’t control when the bus gets to our houses and drops us off, Garrick.”

Isla said, shooting Charlie a venomous look, before walking off into the crowd. Charlotte raised a brow, glancing over at Junior who stood there like a big lumbering oaf, everyone having to move around him.

“Who pissed in her cereal?”

She mumbled, grabbing Jr by the arm and dragging him off to their first block. He chuckled lightly.

“Language, Garrick.”

He said, imitating the manner that Isa had said ‘Garrick’, before shaking his head and muscle memory kicking in as he began walking through the school without Charlie dragging him.

“She’s just worried about Bri. You know how they are.”

“Thick as thieves, I know.”

She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Jr shrugged, strolling into their classroom as he set his bag down by his seat, which happened to be right to the left of Charlotte’s seat.

She took her bags out in an organized pile from biggest to smallest, laying out her pencil and highlighters for the day, as well as a color-coded notebook with stickers neatly placed on it. Junior simply grabbed a notebook out of his bag, hoping it was the right one, and snatched a pencil from Charlie’s pencil pouch.

She gasped, trying to grab it back, but too slowly.

“Don’t you dare. That’s one of my nice mechanicals.”

“It’s a pencil.”

“Give. It. Back.”

He grinned, dangling the pencil in front of her between his fingers, and snatching it away right when she tried to grab it.

This happened about three times, before she huffed, and snapped.

“John Price Jr, give it to me.”

His full name being said made him drop the pencil he’d claimed from shock, and he grumbled about something under his breath while Charlie picked it up, placed it back into her pencil pouch, and fished out a normal orange wooden pencil before placing it down onto his desk with a light ‘clack’.

“Thanks.”

He said dryly, and she gave a snake’s smile.

“You're welcome.”

She replied a shade too sweetly.

The first bell rang, meaning everyone had to get to their class within five minutes, and Junior watched as Isla walked in, still sulking, and promptly sat down next to Charlie.

“Where were you?”

Jr asked, brows raised as he saw her pull out her things from her cluttered bag, and push them onto her desk, not bothering to organize it at all. Messy and uncoordinated, but somehow making sense for her. That was definitely Isla.

“Getting the stick out of her ass, hopefully.”

Charlie muttered, casting a look at her, and Isa shot her a glare in return.

“I was emptying my bladder, Johnny-boy.”

Isla responded, slowly fading out of her bad mood as Jr cringed at the nickname. Johnny-boy was not something he wanted to be called. Anything other than junior or ‘little johN’ that some of his relatives affectionately called him. It always made him a bit irritated, now was no different.

”That’s lovely.”

He said dryly, and the bell rang not a moment later their first block beginning. Junior tried not to worry himself, but he hadn’t seen Brianna yet, not through his glances to the halls, trying to catch her walking by, or through his frequent checks to his phone when the teacher wasn’t looking. No word of her.

That was until the second block.

He walked in, backpack over his shoulder, glancing around the hallways, entering his classroom. The teacher wasn’t there, probably in the bathroom or getting some water, and most of the students in this class were clustered in small groups, talking about god knows what. He recognized some of them from brief conversations, but others were from different grade levels and whatnot.

Someone he did recognize, though, was the human version of an angry, wet cat sulking, when he saw a familiar blond braid, walking over and finding none other than Brianna Riley in all her scowling glory.

”Where have you been? We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for-”

”This can wait until lunch.”

She said, and Jr sighed, walking back to his seat. This particular teacher had caught onto the little friend group quickly and promptly separated all of you for her peace of mind. He didn’t blame her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed by it.

Fine.

It could wait until lunch.

After listening to her Spanish teacher drone on for nearly an hour, Charlotte decided that she wanted to never hear his somehow monotonous voice ever again in her life.

Something must’ve heard her mental prayers because her worries and thoughts were quickly interrupted by the bell ringing through the classroom. Girls started packing up, picking up their bags, while the boys shoved their things in their messy backpacks and began shoving people out of the way to get to lunch. Per usual.

She could put up with their overly strong colognes, their strong-smelling deodorant, and even the disgusting smells of sweat they would leave behind in classrooms or on the bus, but the thing she couldn’t stand was all the shoving and idiotic hyena laughing she heard in the hallways.

Slipping her notebook and pencil pouch neatly into her bag, she waited at the door of the classroom for when she could find a spot to slip through and leave, interweaving between the crowds and masses of people, the metallic clanging sound of the small lockers some chose to use filling the hallways.

She strode down the hallway, turning to the side so as not to bump into two girls standing around and blocking everyone for no reason, spraying their perfumes so many times that her nose burned when she smelled it and went to one of the side stairwells that led to the lunchroom.

The main stairwells were always clogged, so she’d learned to use the side ones in her freshman year after nearly being trampled.

It meant that she usually got there before everyone else, which she did today, getting in line and walking over to the table that the group of four usually took up, and sliding her lunchbox onto it. A perk of having a family that ran a restaurant was that she always got good lunch food, never having to eat whatever sloppy mess of barely-qualifiable food the cafeteria served for lunch.

The rest of her friends, however, were not so lucky.

Isla arrived first, waving from the lunch line, and going through it before sitting down and watching Charlotte unpack her daily sandwich with nothing short of pure jealousy.

Bri was next, Isa noticing her in the line, per usual (She always had an uncanny ability to spot people in crowds, probably because of her obsession with the Where’s Waldo games) and pointing her out. Junior was right behind her, the both of them arriving at the table at relatively the same time.

Had today been an A-Day and not a B-Day, they would’ve had nearly identical schedules, and been here at the same time. But it wasn’t.

”You wanna explain why ya haven’t been answering none o’ us?”

Isa asked, the frustration in her tone obvious despite the food shoved into her mouth. Charlie cringed at it. Junior’s big, brown eyes didn’t hide his worry at all, but he remained silent for now.

”’M dad took my phone and the walkie, said I’m on house arrest for a month.”

They let out a collective breath at that, and most definitely not in relief. Junior and Charlotte opened their mouths to speak at the same time, before catching each other’s eyes, and Jr gesturing for her to go first.

”What did the police do, I mean, do you have a fine or anything?”

She questioned, and Bri’s scowl deepened.

”Detention for a week straight, is all.”

Charlie heard Isla mumbling, and doing what she assumed to be cursing under her breath, but her accent was so thick when she was worked up that she could hardly even decipher it.

”I’m assuming that means you won’t be coming by for a while?”

She asked with a raised brow, feigning sarcasm despite the worry that tugged at her. They all usually met up after school at her grandparent’s restaurant, then Bri would walk them all home, other than Charlie, since she stayed with her dad until he was done working. Some nights she would take the bus to her mom’s house, though, sometimes only on weekends, sometimes only on weekdays. It depended on how the custody was worked out every month.

But the fact of the matter was, it would be strange not having her there for a week.

”Not for a month. That’s par’ of the house arrest, can’t go out at all.”

Even stranger not to have her there for a month.

”I know your dad can be strict, but a month? Seems a bit overkill.”

Junior said, shaking his head lightly, before taking a spoonful of cafeteria tray beans into his mouth. Isla remained oddly silent, but eventually spoke, her hand going to dig into her backpack.

”Well, on the bright side, look wha’ I brought.”

She said, pulling out the manila file folder that Isla had told both Charlie and Junior about last night, after the entire arrest. Charlotte didn’t remember every detail from her Scottish friend’s rambling but knew the gist of it. At least she hoped.

A deep sigh from Bri.

”Let’s see if it was worth it,”

She said, and Isla opened the file up, placing her open backpack on the table to hide the folder from anyone in view. After what had happened last night, she didn’t know who to trust anymore. Who could’ve been in that office with the folder, who could’ve led them out to the school and called the police?

”I was lookin’ through it last night, and it’s weird, just our dad’s name’s with little nicknames in the middle. Sort o’ like a dog tag.”

She said, opening it up, and surely enough there were different things on each page. The key part of it was the names listed on one of the pages, as well as other things that had been crossed through with a thick black marker, covered up. Charlie could’ve sworn she could still smell the Sharpie ink from it. Twisting the page to a proper angle for her to see, she took a good, long look at the page.

Cap. John Price

Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley

Sarg. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Sarg. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Everything else was either redacted or blotted out. All of them paused for a moment before Bri spoke.

”Your dad’s first name is actually Johnny?”

Isla looked confused for a moment, before taking one look at Brianna’s slightly judgmental and flabbergasted expression, and busted out laughing.

The tension in the air deflated quickly, as Jr joined in, and Charlie let out a few giggles herself. Brianna still looked quite confused by the time they were done, glaring at the piece of paper like it was the root of all evil.

”No, seriously, I thought it was John, and Johnny was just a nickname. You’re telling me that…”

She muttered, before sighing and shaking her head as if to shake off whatever had possessed her for a moment.

”Never mind.”

Jr picked up on the blonde’s subtle cues of embarrassment, and allowing himself a final little chuckle, he then refocused on the file at hand.

”Back on task, guys.”

”Right,”

Isla said, glancing back down at the piece of paper, skimming over it again, and lifting it to one of the buzzing cafeteria lights as if to try and see through the ink covering more than half of the words.

”So, what does this even mean?”

Isa asked, and Charlie took the paper from her hands, putting it back on the gray table.

”It means our dads have been keeping secrets from us.”

Brianna’s eyes narrowed, glancing at the paper again, then at the rest of them, eyes drifting over each of them quickly.

”Why go through all that effort? Never met a vet’ tha’ hides their background, unless they were on tha’ wrong side of a war.”

Junior and Charlie’s eyes met, briefly remembering the conversation they’d had in that alley before. It was risky to reveal it now, especially when Isla could hardly keep a secret from any of her family, but she felt odd hiding it.

“They were Special Forces,”

She said in a hushed tone, leaning in, her eyes glancing around for any eavesdroppers. Both Bri and Isa looked mildly surprised, Bri more angrily confused than anything.

“Wha’s that?”

Isla asked with a furrowed brow, and Charlie answered back.

“Dealin’ with terrorists, missing bombs, all that deal.”

“How do you know wha’ they were?”

Bri asked with narrowed eyes, all the while Jr silently watched, keeping his mouth conveniently full of food so he couldn’t be questioned like Charlotte.

“I..went through my dad’s computer a while back, got into some old locked files. There wasn’t a lot that wasn’t redacted, but it gave some of their mission reports.”

Bri and Isa shared a glance, the scot of the group’s nostrils flaring.

“And ya dinnae think te tell any o’ us, nay?”

Per usual, her accent got thicker the more worked up she was, leading to some mostly non-legible sentences that took Charlotte a few minutes to even mentally translate.

“I thought it would be better to let them come to us about it first, and I don’t want my dad to know I snooped through his computer and broke into some of his files.”

“Righ’, because the Garrick family name can’t be tarnished, can it?”

Bri said in a rough tone, Isa opened her mouth again, but one of the blonde’s hands lying on her arm that was on the table stopped her, making her settle down. Looking upset, rightfully so Charlie would admit, Isla then turned her attention to Jr.

“An’ what about you? You’re not mad?”

She questioned as if the obvious answer was yes. Charlotte knew the obvious answer was yes, she’d kept something important from them, even if only trying to keep things good, and if they’d known beforehand then things could’ve been different.

Junior looked like a deer in headlights.

He swallowed a spoonful of beans, glancing between the pair at one end of the table, and back at Charlie on his side, clearly weighing his options here.

“I think it was wrong to keep it from us,”

Isla opened her mouth to speak again, her fiery temper stoked higher, but Jr cut her off before she had the chance.

“But, I think she had the right intentions, and the only thing we can do is move forward.”

He finished. A sigh of relief from Charlotte, one of probable resignation from Isla, and a final sigh of reluctant agreement from Brianna.

“He’s right. Whoever set us up last night, they knew this,”

One of her fingers went to tap against the names on the file.

“And for wha’ever reason, they wanted us, or at least Isa, to know it too.”

Junior nodded, the gears in his head coming back to life, working out a plan, a solution to a problem.

“Do you think it’s possible they only meant for Isla to follow? I don’t see how they could’ve known she would walkie all of us.”

He suggested, his forearm now propped against the table, the back of his hand holding his chin up, utensils now discarded on the lunch tray that he’d forgotten about by now.

“Unless they’ve been watching for a while.”

Charlie suggested, and a collective shiver went through the group at that. The thought of someone watching them, stalking them for days, weeks, even months on end was nothing short of terrifying.

“I’m wonderin’ if our shadow-man called the cops, or someone outside all o’ this did.”

Isa said, stabbing at her food with renewed vigor, Bru nodding as if to support her point.

“Who would be up that late other than someone purposefully watching, anyway?”

Charlie asked, and Jr shrugged.

“Some people go out for a midnight cig, or stay up late watchin’ the game, you never know. We can’t just write off any civilians because we’re suspicious and paranoid.”

Jr offered to the conversation, another nod from everyone involved. Bri glanced over at Isa, then at Charlie.

“You said they were special forces?”

She asked, and Charlie nodded. A slight pause.

“Any other details you remember from those files?”

Charlie wracked her brain, thinking if anything she remembered from the lines of text she’d gotten out of breaking into her father’s locked computer files. It had been gibberish, mostly, just military lingo that she didn’t understand and a lot of numbers.

“Not really. Numbers, a few maps near Western Asia, military lingo. Nothing I understood.”

She said, and Bri nodded.

“Why? What’re you thinkin’?”

Jr then asked, and Isla watched carefully.

“You’re saying our dads killed terrorists and I’m assumin’ a whole lotta other crazy shit, so even if they’re retired, doesn’t mean any of their relatives are safe. Anyone lookin’ for some payback…”

Her voice trailed off at that, shaking her head. Junior’s first thoughts were of his little sister and mother, and the countless nieces and nephews he had, Charlotte’s mind going to her grandparents and family, and Isla’s mind shooting to her giant Scottish family.

“They wouldn’t. I’m sure you’re just overthinking’ it.”

Isa said, swallowing thickly. A shadow passed over Bri’s eyes as she spoke next, her eyes focusing on the paper, on her father’s name, more on the thick letters before her father’s name.

‘Lt.’

“You ever met my uncle, nephew, or my grandparents?”

She asked, and they exchanged glances before Junior dared to speak.

“No, I’ve…never heard of them before.”

Charlotte watched Bri’s knuckles go near white with her death grip around the cafeteria fork she held which looked all too close to snapping.

“Exactly.”

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@valscodblog

@seconds-over-first

#writers on tumblr #cod fanfic #soap cod #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #Kyle garrick #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #Simon riley #cod fandom

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anemonelovesfiction · 3 months ago

Text

Summoning A Succubus 2

Succubus Tsireya x Fem! Human Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Teasing, Begging, Fingering, Tribbing

Came to me while I was working and I figured why not write a part two? Maybe people will enjoy this as well?

Middle picture is from @waiting4avatar

Not proofread

<< Previous Chapter

Translation Station

Rutxe: Please

Tewng: Loincloth

Srane: Yes

Ngaytxoa: Sorry; My Apologies

Yawne: Beloved

Txotsafya: If that’s the case; If that’s so

Sevin’eve: Pretty Girl

Yawntu: Loved one

Word Count: 2.5 k

“Come on, you can do it, go faster.” Her words are demanding and all I can do it try, but the wobble in my legs was starting to catch up to me and I could feel myself struggling to ride her fingers any faster than I currently was, if I did I’d probably topple over.

“I-I can’t,” I finally muttered after thinking long and hard about the correct words to speak in her native tongue.

“Awe, that’s too bad.” She murmurs as she leans down to kiss my forehead and withdraws her fingers from my sopping cunt.

“No no, please put them back in, I was close!” I ramble, not having realized that although I was standing, my legs were shaking bad, I held my dress in the palms of my hand exposing myself to her.

“Mhm,” She hums absentmindedly as she shoves the fingers she’d had inside me, into her own mouth, sucking on my essence while maintaining eye contact.

“Please,” I whine, her eyes rake down my body before bringing them back up to make direct eye contact with me, a small smirk playing at her lips as she takes her fingers out of her mouth, sticking her tongue out to sensually lick between her fingers.

“Why should I?” She asks as the crystalline beads of her top capture the rays of sunlight and sparkles flow into my room.

I groaned aloud, watching as her pointed ears flicker at the sound, sticking straight up toward me so she can hear me better, I could only bite my lip as a wince rips through my lips, scrunching up my dress in my palms while waiting for her future instructions.

She had been visiting me for months on end, I had clearly become some kind of stress relief for her, but the feeling was mutual. But we didn’t always have sex when she visited, she would teach me about her culture, her life, and even her language, the one we were currently speaking at the moment.

“Because I’ve been good-“

“Not from what I saw.” She cuts me off and the skin if her brows relaxes, almost resting-bitch but not quite.

“I’ve been good up until that point.” I admit, feeling how warm my center was, just aching to have her fingers or her tongue shoved inside, begging for release.

I had grown impatient with her sporadic visitation the past couple of weeks and was feeling rather horny this morning. I was unsure if she was even able to visit today given her busy life, but was surprised to see her sitting on my office chair and watching me shove my fingers inside myself. I’d only opened my eyes because I’d felt as though I was being watched, my fingers sliding out as a scream ripped through my throat to find her sitting there and smiling, attempting to shove my dress down to cover myself and a heat spreading on my face, embarrassment washing over me.

“Then you have not been good.” She states sensually, leaning down close to me and placing the tips of her fingers under my chin, the sensation bringing me to stiffen my body as I stared into her eyes.

“Rutxe ‘Reya,” I begged and see her eyes soften as she coo’s at me.

“Lay down,” She instructs in English, accent rich, I could only focus on how her words did so much to me, heart rate quickening as she spoke, my mind going fuzzy as I attempted to focus, but being giddy at the same time as I lied down on the bed, spreading my legs without her having to tell me.

I just laid there watching her walk around the bed until she stood at the end, she turns around slowly and I can feel myself clench around nothing, she seductively slides her tewng off, sliding it off her body smoothly, leaving me to wonder how she’d managed such a great body. I could see her nipples had hardened underneath her crystalline and shelled top she had worked so hard to make the very first day she came here.

She sensually picks her leg up and places her knee right next to my hip, using her hand to steady herself, placing it next to my head and repeating the process with her other leg, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on my lips, tongue darting out to gently caress my bottom lip, silently asking for permission, something she knew she didn’t have to do.

I opened my mouth for her to shove her to guess deep in my mouth, swirling it around my own, not having to fight for dominance, I knew where I stood with her. I could only gasp as one of her hands had come into contact with my clothed breast, thumb flicking the hardened nub underneath my dress.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Tsireya mutters as her lips attack my neck, tongue sticking out to lick across the sensitive flesh and causing me to moan aloud.

I attempt to close my legs together to gain any sense of friction I can to apply to my clit, but am met with a slap to the thigh from the hand that once held my breast, her face backing up as the skin of her brow is furrowed together making her appear angry, I could only bite my bottom lip as an answer but understood what she had been conveying, feeling her hand pry my thighs apart before speedily placing one of her fingers into my core.

“Tsireya!” I stated in a shocked moan as I feel her slip inside so nicely, one of her fingers felt like two of my own, and she’s made me see stars on more than one occasion with one finger alone.

“Srane?” She teases as she slowly slides her finger back out, ensuring to run the tip across my G-spot as she did so, her sweet face breaking out to a smirk.

“Please don’t tease-“ I gasp as she rams her finger back in, not having expected her to have been so rough, I could barely pick up that I’d spoken English before she brings her finger out and shoves it back in.

“Ngaytxoa,” I apologize quickly, catching my mistake before she could correct me, I had to learn Na’Vi in order to understand the rest of the spell book I’s bought and she had been gracious enough to teach me, but it came with a small price, and every time I spoke in English I’d get a slight punishment out of it.

It hadn’t occurred to me that it had been a while since I last felt her tongue on me, until a squeak had left my lips as she licks my clit with her textured tongue, my body reacting in two ways.

First jumping up and wanting to get away from the foreign feeling of her the texture, sending my clit into overdrive with sensitivity. And Secondly, regretting having pulled away from her as I loved the way her tongue could stroke my bundle of nerves and bring me closer to an orgasm. I could only whine once I realized she wasn’t licking me like I’d wanted her to.

“Look at you, yawne.” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she coos, my face tilting downwards to capture her eyes above my pussy, I could tell she had been smirking, but before I could comment on it she had decided that now was the time to send another shock through my nervous system as she licked my clit once more.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, unsure if she had caught it but glad she had decided to continue licking her prized possession, feeling jolts of electricity shoot their way up and down my spine as she continues without ceasing.

“Reya!” I toss my head back as my hand sneaks up toward her beautifully braided hair, grasping onto it like my life depended on it and started grinding my hips up against the flat of her nose, feeling more pleasure than before, until she places her hands on my hips to stop them from moving, no longer fingering me, her mouth coming off of me as well and a whine building in the back of my throat but I don’t dare release it.

“I’d like to try something on you,” she states rather simply as her hands leave my body, my whine coming out at this point as I didn’t want her to stop touching me, her smirk returning on her lips as she stares down at me.

“I think it will be worth your time,” She smiles and hums at the same time, leaving my imagination to run wild as to what it was we could possibly be doing, but my mind draws a blank as soon as I see her shuffle herself near the edge of the bed, seeing as she readjusts herself so her legs tangle with mine.

She can see my confused face and only smiles, reaching between our bodies with her long hand and tilting my chin up.

“Do you trust me?” She asks and all I could do was nod immediately, I didn’t have to second guess if I could trust her, she has given me every reason to trust from the moment I met her- even if it wasn’t under traditional circumstances.

“Good girl,” She smiles at me before adjusting my hips and adjusting hers, I could feel the lips of our pussies spreading one another's open as she ground her hips softly. I raised a brow to try and understand where this was leading to until I felt the friction of her hardened bud slide up against mine.

Her moan breaks through my thought process before I realize I’m copying her with my own, my hips desperate to feel that sensation again quickly humping against her before she grabs a hold of then, almost bending herself in half.

“Rutxe-“ I begged and continued to fight her hands as I attempted to move my hips, ending in a pathetic attempt of a rut against her hips and feeling nothing from it.

“We have to go slow, yawne.” She speaks softly and it gets me to stop my movements.

“Like this,” She demonstrates as she pushes her hips against mine, her clit once again finding mine and rubbing deliciously against it, my legs starting to shake from the lack of continuous pleasure only to slowly move my hips against hers, feeling as our hardened buds pass by each other.

“Txotsafya,” I mutter as I refrain from moving my hips too quickly, desperate for release but understanding that it’ll take time if we’re in this position.

“Slow and steady,” She mumbles and I nod as our hips move in unison and I cry out once more.

“Are you close already?” She teases as I begin to pant, feeling close to my orgasm but not close enough, wanting to feel her rubbing up against my body non-stop.

“How’s this pace?” She asks sweetly as she picks up her pace, managing to move her hips at the perfect rhythm for me to enjoy, throwing my head back with a long moan as I grasp the sheets to give me a sense of grounding myself.

“Sevin’eve,” Tsireya speaks and causes my face to heat up at her comment, feeling like the prettiest of girls every time I had been with her due to her constant reminders.

“I’m close-“ I gasp in a breath of air as I feel my hips starting to rut with a mind of their own, feeling my eyes closed tightly as she continues thrusting her own hips against mine, I felt my dress slipping and rapidly reached for it, grasping it in the palms of my hand, not caring if the fabric of the dress had wrinkled, even after having spent the night before ironing it.

“I want you to look at me, yawntu.” She speaks and its as if my body lived to serve her, feeling my eyes being pried open my the sheer force of wanting to please her, seeing her turquoise eyes as a raging ocean at this moment, wanting nothing more than for both of us to come.

“Come for me,” She speaks and I bite my lip to muffle my moan, a sharp cry coming as her hips continue to move against my own during my orgasm, a sense of bliss running through me and feeling my eyes closing themselves once more.

_________

I rushed my feet down the pavement as I finally reach for the door of the building I worked at, being thankful I lived a walking distance from it and didn’t have to worry about finding parking on such a busy street, and knowing there was nothing in the parking garage. I rushed toward the time-clock area and punch my employee number in, glad to see I had come back on time, a deep sigh leaving my body as I relax a bit.

“Where did you go for lunch today?” My coworker asks nicely, although I hadn’t heard her coming up from behind me and jump a little upon having heard her voice.

“Oh, uh,” I thought rather quickly, wondering if it was worth mentioning, but figured it would be better to tell some of the truth, it wouldn’t hurt, right?

“I went home, didn’t feel like waiting for my food during lunch rush-“ I shrug sheepishly and see my coworker nod their head in agreement, stepping out of the way to see as they reach toward the time clock and punch their own employee number in.

“You wouldn’t want to go to barnes and noble after work, would you? Theres a book I want to pick up but I kind of want to read the first couple chapters to see if its worth buying.” They admit to me and I could feel my body begin to relax. I’d assumed they’d probably ask more invasive questions as to what I had eaten or if my lunch went well but felt rather relieved to have them switch the subject.

“Oh, sure, I’ve got another book I want to pick up from Lauder’s and it’s next door.” I admit as I had been wanting to search if there were any other spell books similar to the one I’d bought a couple months ago.

“Lauder’s has been closed for a long time, Y/n…” They trail off as they rub the back of their neck awkwardly.

“Oh, bummer, how long? I just bought a book there a couple of months ago.” I admit and see their eyebrows upturned.

“They’ve been closed for a little over a year now, my aunt used to own the store,” They admit and I could feel confusion filling me up. If Lauder’s had been closed that long, how was I able to go into the store and grab the book I’d gotten? I could only look up at my coworker and the only thing I could think to do was shrug my shoulders.

“Maybe I have the name confused.”

#avatar #avatar smut #afab reader #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water smut #human reader #tsireya x y/n #tsireya x you #tsireya

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