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storiesofsvu · 6 months ago

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Decadent Desires Ch 6

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, sexually charged conversations, teasing/banter. Smut, sex toys, minor bondage, spanking. A guest star of Anthony DiNozzo! I didn't really want to bring in a whole THIRD fandom into this but it ended up working out really nicely and I can play around with it in future chapters too! It feels like it's been ages since I've updated this so clearly the last week was a long one lol. Remember how I said I wanted to be a chapter ahead from now on with my series? Yeah that quickly did not happen. LOL. I'm gonna try to keep up with it, and I promise y'all won't wait longer than a week between chapters, I just need to hunker down and write!

Working for Heather meant that you worked insane hours that could change at the drop of a hat, but it also meant that you could essentially make your own schedule whenever you wanted. You could do most of your job from home or a hotel, as long as you had Wi-Fi you were in the clear, you spent a lot of your time gallivanting around D.C to finish whatever tasks you needed to. Shuffling your schedule around constantly meant that you were more than given the liberty to a Thursday afternoon off and that is exactly why you were meandering down Wisconsin Avenue with Tony in tow. Some of your friends questioned why you always went shopping with him, but the truth was he knew style, understood expensive taste, always told the truth if something looked bad and the entire experience was more efficient. If you went out with your girlfriends on a shopping spree you got dragged into twelve stores you needed nothing from and had to wait while they tried on countless amounts of outfits. With Tony the most that would happen would you’d have some extra browsing time at L. Priori because he got distracted by the watches.

“You got some big White House party coming up or something?” He asked, taking a sip of the coffee you’d bought him earlier.

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder as you picked up the small bag, “no.”

“We’ve done jewels, we’ve done shoes,” he pushed the door open for you, holding it while you crossed through the entry way and back out onto the street, “you dropped off three dresses for alterations and looked through the catalogue of what’s coming in…”

“I just want to revamp my closet a little bit, make sure I’m prepared for summer, you know how many extra garden parties I end up at.”

“And your boss is okay with that amount of cleavage?” He asked with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I think you’re bullshitting me.”

“I got a little carried away doing spring cleaning and tossed half my closet.” You bluffed, “I work so much I forgot I actually wore the other shit and now need to replace it.” Veering off to the side your hand tugged open the door to Jaryam and Tony followed you inside.

“When’s your next date?” He asked with a grin.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“Then why did you just drag me into a lingerie store?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “I didn’t drag you anywhere, you love this shit. I just want some new pieces; you’ve got the right eye for colour and the masculine fetishistic imagination to tell me which ones I’ll look the best in.”

He chuckled darkly, not bothering to disagree with you as you made your way further into the shop, he was a pace behind you, fiddling with a price tag when he scoffed and you turned back to him with a raised brow, “I’ve heard you complain about the prices in Victoria’s Secret and that’s got nothing on this, a thong for a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“It’s… about the quality.” You shrugged, “thirty dollars for a scrap of fabric that falls apart in a month made in a sweatshop isn’t a good investment.” You picked up the pair that he was looking at, reading through the tag, “something hand stitched made with quality fabric that’s going to last? Worth it.”

“Hmm.” He replied, surveying you for a minute as you put the thong back on the rack, “you know, I noticed when you picked up the coffee that you used a black card…”

“You’re really working those sleuthing skills today, aren’t ya?” You teased back with a grin, moving onto a wall of lace bras.

“It’s not exactly a difficult mystery.” He smirked, following you, “fancy shoes, nice jewels, new clothes, expensive lingerie,” you turned back to face him, an unimpressed look on your face and he practically caged you into the wall, “who’s your daddy?”

“Ew, Tony, fuck off.” You groaned, shoving at his chest as he laughed, “coffee and meals can be turned into a write off. I used Heather’s card.”

“Bah! Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just run your financials when I get back to the office.”

Now it was your turn to laugh, “they call you a very Special Agent DiNozzo?”

“Why yes, yes they do.” He smiled, getting a little smug about it and you shook your head at him.

“Then explain to me how running my financials would let you in on whose card I’m using.” You asked, watching as he opened his mouth to give you some witty response but he couldn’t find one, gaping for a minute before he let out a defeated huff and you tugged him in the other direction, “now c’mon, I know you have a good eye for lingerie.”

“Now that, I will not deny.” He replied with a smile and you did roll your eyes as he followed you deeper into the shop.

You combed through practically every shelf in the place, trying to figure out what kind of styles you were going to settle on before Tony started to share his opinions. He reminded you how good blue looked on you when you picked up a soft pink set and suggested the lace florals over lace butterflies. You were narrowing it down between a handful of choices and he was quick to intervene when he noticed you were eliminating all the variation.

“Wait,” he cut in, swiping the one you were trying to put back on the shelf, “keep that one. Get rid of this one.” He plucked the peach set from your collection, tossing it into the return pile.

“It’s cute!” You protested.

“Exactly. Everything you’re keeping is ‘cute’, you’re playing it too safe and I know that’s not you. The lilac one is the nicest, little hint of lace for a bonus, so get it.” He started flicking through the rack you had your favourites on, “keep the teal one for the crystals, plus it matches that pair of heels you bought. The rest of this batch can go but add these to your buying list.” He picked up a lacy black and red set that was mostly see through and included a garter belt, handing it off to you, and a gorgeous deep green set. “That’ll look great with your skin,” his brow furrowed for a second as he examined it, “wait it’s not your size, you’re what?” His eyes were suddenly on you and you groaned,

“Stop staring at my tits.” You stated dryly as he turned around, grabbing another one of the green set from the shelf.

“Thirty four C, right?”

“I don’t know whether I should be impressed or grossed out that you were able to figure that out.”

“They don’t call me Very Special Agent DiNozzo for nothing.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to go try these on.” You scooped up the remaining sets, “not for your viewing pleasure! Occupy yourself.”

You weren’t surprised in the least when all of Tony’s recommendations were right and you were happy to be leaving with a variety of options. Returning from the dressing room you found him near the till looking through accessories and he shot you a cocky grin as you placed all of his choices down on the counter. You shuffled the shopping bags in your hand over to the other one,

“Can you hold this?” You asked, handing him your purse as you pulled Emily’s card from within it, passing it off to the cashier. Once the purchase was completed and the cashier was wrapping up the lingerie, she placed the card down on the counter and out of the corner of your eye you saw Tony making a move for it, managing to swipe it up before he could get to it.

“Hey!” You swatted the back of his head and he grimaced.

“Ow. That was worse than Gibbs.” He muttered.

“You fuck around and you’ll find out.” You returned but he was too busy on his phone to really pay attention.

You took your purse back from him, tossing it over your shoulder as you thanked the clerk and added the bag of lingerie to the others with your shopping and the two of you made your way back onto the street. You jumped when Tony’s fingers prodded at your side, digging into your ribs.

“C’mon… let me know something, please.” He batted his eyes at you, “I just helped you pick lingerie; I deserve to know something. Doctor? Artist? App developer? Congressman?”

“Nope, nope, nope and hard nope.” You replied with a huff and he groaned so you finally turned back to him, stalling in your steps, “what I will tell you, is that she most definitely outranks NCIS, so you can officially drop it.”

“Ohoho… a new lady friend…” It was his turn to slow in his tracks, eyes lingering in the window of the next shop, “you need any special accessories for that?”

“Tony you’re insane if you think I’m taking you into a sex toy store.”

“Meh, doesn’t really matter since you’ve already covered that step.” He grinned and your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Swiped your phone and went through your emails.” With a laugh he tossed the device back to you as you let out a gasp, “peach flavoured lube, nice. Nipple clamps? Kinky, didn’t realize you were into that kinda pain.” That earned him a hard punch on the arm, “but that double sided dildo with vibration? Now that sounds like a real party.”

“Anothony DiNozzo!” You scolded and he let out a small whine of a scoff, gesturing toward the sex store.

“I’m the perfect person to give sex toy recommendations, c’mon.” He protested and you sighed.

“Tony. You are a straight man. What could you possibly known about sex toys for me to use with another woman?”

“One of those wand things, Hibachi?”

“That’s Japanese barbecue, but nice try.”

“The wands!”

“You’re going for Hitachi.”

“Close enough!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands, “the big one’s better but I think they sell smaller ones too, more portable.” He waggled his eyebrows at you and you sighed.

“Think? Tony, pull your head outta your ass. Any self respecting person with a clit already owns one of those.”

“Really?” He smirked at you and you did your best not to groan.

“I’ve got three, a mini pink, a mini green and the big one, which yes, is far superior. Can we go now?”

“Fine.” He groaned, feigning annoyance, “you dragging me to a nail appointment next?”

“No, I was gonna buy you a late lunch.”

“You were? Or is your mommy dearest gonna buy lunch.” He exaggerated the word, nearly moaning as he said it and you immediately grimaced.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Yup, that one felt wrong coming out. My bad, that’s on me.”

Emily turned down dessert service, asking for the cheque instead as she gave the server a soft smile, picking up her cocktail once again as she turned back to you. In turn, you finished your drink, placing the glass down on the table as you stood, your hand coming to squeeze at Emily’s thigh softly as your lips brushed against her cheek.

“Give me a five minute head start, I’ve got a surprise for you.” You scooped up your phone, shooting Emily a wink as you sauntered away from the table in the direction of the elevator.

Her eyes followed you through the entrance of the lounge, narrowing in on your ass as you pushed the elevator button and the sparks began to fly through her body. It hadn’t been a particularly long week, but it was very safe to say that you had been on her mind more often than not. Images of your naked body strewn across the bed floating into her brain, making her cheeks flush while she was torturously bored with paperwork. A too long tedious conference call lead to her zoning out, daydreaming all the things she wanted to do to you, the noises you made echoing through her mind. It was almost a given that night that she had a rather self soothing shower when she got home, pulling her laptop out when she finally crawled into bed to take a look at what fun things she could buy to occupy your time with in the future weekends.

Emily settled the bill, slowly draining the rest of her cocktail until she was certain she’d given you enough time to do whatever it was you had planned before she finally left the restaurant. The key card beeped against the lock and she stepped inside the suite, letting the door swing shut behind her before she made sure it was locked. She stepped out of her heels, dropping her purse on the side table in the entry way before rounding the bed into the suite, catching a glimpse of you laid out on the bed and her lips twitched up into a grin.

“Well that certainly is a welcome sight.”

“Yeah?” You asked, sitting up and shifting onto your knees, “you see something you like?”

“I see plenty I like.” She walked up to the foot of the bed as you crawled on your knees to greet her, your hands settling on her hips as one of hers curled around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to hers for a kiss.

Her tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a satisfied groan, both of you relaxing into the kiss, lips dancing with grace against each other. Her hand slipped into your hair, pulling out the pins to let it fall loose around your shoulders, pulling at it lightly. When her teeth scraped against your lip you couldn’t help but moan, your hands drifting up her body as you slowly began to unbutton her shirt. She broke the kiss to help you untuck the fabric from her pants, letting it drop to the floor behind her before her fingers began to trace the lines of the teal lingerie set, floating over the gems decorating your chest.

“You like the crystals?” You asked, small grin on your lips and she nodded.

“They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re Swarovski.” You replied with a near smirk and she let out a huff of a laugh.

“You really went all in, hey?”

“Just wanted to make sure I looked nice and pretty for you.” You shrugged coyly and she chuckled, giving you a once over.

“Well you do.” She leant down, kissing you gently before her hands nudged at your shoulders, “you’re not the only one who brought something fun, lie back princess.”

“I noticed.” You replied, a gleam in your eye as you dropped into the pillows, an arm extending to the nightstand where you picked up a silk tie, “multifaceted, curious as to what your intentions are.”

“First…” Emily rounded the side of the bed, “I want to see what’s under that gorgeous bra.” She nodded at you and you sat up, hands flying behind you to unclip it, gently tossing it to the side, “good girl.” She plucked the fabric from your hands, picking up a longer one from the nightstand before kneeling on the bed. “Give me your hands.” She instructed and you held your hands out for her, wrists gently pressed together as she began to wind the fabric around them, “is this okay?”

“Absolutely.” You replied, looking up at her with darkening eyes as she tightened the silk.

“Do you have a word?”

“I’m fond of peach.”

“Perfect.” With a wicked grin she placed a gentle kiss on your wrist before guiding you to lie back with your arms over your head and she looped the shorter piece through your bonds, securing the other end to the golden bar of the headboard. “No surprises there.” She purred as she slid off the bed, letting out a satisfied hum as her eyes dragged over your body.

“Hm?” You raised a brow, watching as she moved back to a spare chair.

“Just how pretty you look tied up like that.” Emily tossed a grin over her shoulder, “but you are going to need to roll over for the second part of your treat.”

You nearly let out a whine when her hands came to her belt buckle, eager to be able to see both what was coming next and what she had under her clothes. Instead of risking it you decided to behave, rolling onto your stomach, your arms stretching over your head as you twisted it to the side, just barely able to see Emily under your arm. She had busied herself with getting rid of her clothing, a neat pile forming on the small bench next to her bag as she pulled out the strap, swiftly stepping into it and securing it around her hips. Your mouth was practically watering already and then she reached into her bag again, pulling out a crop with a cute little heart on the end and you had to hold back a moan.

Emily could see the way your body tensed, how your hips ground down into the bed as she reapproached it and a dark chuckle escaped her lips. Kneeling on the bed behind you her hand grasped your ankle, spreading your legs further apart and you did your best to arch your back, presenting yourself to her.

“Such obedience.” She murmured, letting the crop lightly trace up your inseam as you let out an airy breath.

Emily slowly trailed the crop up and down your legs, just the slightest hint of touch that she knew you were absolutely begging for in your head. She could see the way your body twitched whenever it got close to the heat between your legs and a wicked grin took over her lips. The crop finally came up over the swell of your ass, softly circling and tracing patterns on your skin and you finally let out a whine. Since this was the first time you’d actually made a louder noise, Emily figured this was the time to both give in and start to really tantalize you now. She raised the crop, swatting it down onto your ass and you let out a low moan.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm.” You eagerly nodded into the pillows and the crop trailed across to the other cheek, repeating the circles before coming down harder on that side and your breath caught in your throat.

“Ohh…” Your fingers interlaced, squeezing tightly, “harder, please.”

“My little princess likes it rough.” Emily husked from behind you, “somehow I’m not that surprised.”

The crop came down on the same spot harder than the first before she flicked it over your other cheek, swatting just as hard, watching the way your body reacted, jolting at the touch before grinding your cunt down onto the bed. She brought the head of the crop between your legs, pushing the fabric of your panties into your pussy, rubbing the leather up and down your folds as you moaned, arching into the touch.

“Fuuckk…”

Emily chuckled darkly, bringing the crop up before hitting your ass with more force, smirking at the louder moans leaving your lips, the way you were pulling against your bonds, wishing your hands were free. The sounds of the spanks echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as your moans grew louder and longer, every time the crop was brought down onto your body it grew from a tingle to a pleasurable burn. Emily continued to trail the leather across your skin, occasionally her hand gently rubbing across the spot to sooth the burn, little praises and coos leaving her lips. The tingles each time she spanked you began to build, growing together with each hit of the crop until there was a fire building right under your skin, whimpers and whines leaving your lips as you buried your face into the pillows. Every swat of the crop made your entire body shiver and you were nearly about to start begging for more when she moved it back between your legs.

“You really like this, hmm?” She asked, pressing it against your cunt again, “making such a big wet spot on these nice panties.” She rubbed it harder against you, watching the way your wetness continued to soak the fabric, “you know, I’d take them off and stuff them in your mouth if you didn’t make such pretty noises…”

You groaned softly, your hips rocking back toward the touch, a little whimper leaving your throat when the crop nearly rubbed against your clit. Emily hummed softly, lifting the crop up before bringing it back down, this time onto your pussy and you couldn’t help the noise that escaped you.

“Oh fuucck…” Your head buried deeper into the pillows, your eyes scrunching shut as you felt your pussy fluttering around nothing, your clit nearly pulsing already, juices smearing across your underwear.

Emily’s hands grasped at your hips, flipping you onto your back watching as your legs instinctively fell open for her to see the growing wet spot on your panties. She brought the crop back to your cunt, rubbing it harder against you as you started to whine, resulting in another swat that brought a gasp from your lips.

“You like this even more, don’t you princess?” She asked with a grin and you nodded, “you want your pussy spanked too?” Spank. “Think you can come from just this?” Spank.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “more, please.”

“Always such nice manners.” She praised, her fingers slipping into the waistband of your thong, tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing it behind her. Her hands soothed up your legs, spreading them even further apart from each other as her thumbs dared to brush the edges of your cunt. “Such a pretty pussy. God you’re just fucking drenched already.”

Emily picked the crop back up, rubbing it through your slick folds, pressing harder as she brought it to your clit.

“Please.” You whimpered and she chuckled softly.

The first hit was on the gentle side, her eyes tracing up your naked body, watching your face for any sign of discomfort but all she found was a look of sheer pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut, mouth falling open as breathy moans escaped them, it was all she needed to bring the crop down even harder the next time.

“Fuck.” Your body twitched off the bed, cunt pulsing as more juices dribbled out of it.

“That’s it princess.” Spank. “You’re doing so good for me.” Spank.

“Oh god…” Your hands clutched at the silk ties as your body shivered, pleasure building higher and higher with each time the crop hit your cunt.

“I know you’re close.” Spank. “Just a few more.” Spank. “Pussy’s so wet.” Spank. “Let go for me.” Spank.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your back arching off the bed, pulling against the restraints as your orgasm shot through you, pussy pulsating around nothing as your juices dripped onto the bedspread.

“That’s it.” Emily cooed, the crop gently rubbing against your cunt, smearing your wetness all around it and your thighs. “So pretty when you come for me.”

“Please…” you whimpered, “need you.”

“You want more?” She asked, gently spanking your pussy again and you whined.

“No, please! Need your cock.” You were absolutely begging, pussy fluttering, feeling so entirely empty. Despite the powerful orgasm you needed to be filled, stretched around Emily to finally feel completely satisfied.

“So needy tonight.” Emily teased, dropping the crop to the side as she climbed over you, running the tip of the toy through your folds, “this what you want?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded furiously, “please.”

“Alright.”

Emily didn’t hesitate, knowing you were absolutely drenched she sunk her cock fully into you until her hips met yours and you let out a very satisfied moan. She pulled back just enough to sneak her hand between your bodies, turning on the vibration on the base of the toy, just against her clit and a breathy sigh escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, pulling out until just the tip was left inside you and set a steady pace, fucking you thoroughly. Each thrust of her hips had your body twitching up off the bed, pulling against your restraints as you ached to touch her, pleasure shooting through your limbs.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “feels so good.”

Each thrust of her cock the head brushed right over your g-spot, pulling louder moans from you each time as your pussy began to clench down around her. You could feel your juices smearing across both of your bodies as she fucked deeper into you, picking up the pace as she knew you were getting close again.

“Are you going to come again for me angel?” She cooed, her hands gliding up your body to toy with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them in time with her thrusts.

“S-s’close.” You moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed to meet hers with each thrust.

Your hands tugged against the silk ties again, gasping when Emily’s lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth for her tongue to flick patterns across it. The double, nearly triple sensation if you counted the vibrations hitting your clit each time your bodies met was nearly too much, your pussy making almost more noise than the ones coming from your mouth. All you could do was whimper and whine, your head too fuzzy to get actual words to come out, the coil inside you got tighter and tighter until Emily’s teeth sunk into your chest and it burst through you.

“Fuck!”

Your body trembled, the tingles shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes as Emily continued to fuck you. Her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a low swear, now focused on chasing her own release. She sunk fully into you, pressing the vibrating part of the toy directly against her clit and it gave you the opportunity to roll your hips against hers, grinding the base harder onto her. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip as your eyes scrunched shut, another orgasm bursting through you from the sensation and Emily let out a soft cry.

“Oh god.” Her hand slipped between your bodies, switching the vibrations off before she sat up.

Emily panted slightly, attempting to catch her breath as she reached out, swiftly undoing the ties and your arms were finally free to drop to the bed. You let out a soft groan, flexing your hands before Emily caught them in hers, examining your wrists to make sure you hadn’t pulled too hard and hurt yourself. Once satisfied that you hadn’t she let them drop and shifted on her knees, slipping out of you and watching your juices dribble onto the bed.

“Mmm…” you sighed, your lips curving up into a grin.

“What?” She asked with a raised brow.

“That was hot.” You replied, “kinda wish you could come inside me though.”

“Well…” she leant over you, kissing you before nipping at your lower lip, “I’m sure that can be arranged for next time.”

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#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #decadent desires #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss series

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dancingtotuyo · 7 months ago

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Part III

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel hull the kids to the beach for a much needed vacation. Things begin to change.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: Tommy being a shitty husband & father, Father's day celebration, cursing, consumption of alcohol, emotional affair/cheating, some physical boundaries crossed. Pining

Notes: Y'all know the drill by now, thanks to my loves @janaispunk for beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading and providing me with some authentic prison information and inspiration, and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 5273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

It’s June before you’re able to escape to the shore. You make it in just over 4 hours. It’s good timing considering the multiple bathroom stops you had to make. It’s a small house that probably hasn’t been renovated since Joel was there as a kid. It sits two blocks off the shore on stilts that make you feel secluded from the people that pass on the quiet street below, and when you stand on the porch, the salty sea breeze caresses your body as you let your eyes close. You can just make out the crash of ocean waves. You can feel the breeze carrying all your cares away.

Nate and Sarah excitedly explore the inside of the house. Their muted enthusiasm floating through the walls makes you smile. You’re thankful for this, thankful for Joel.

The sliding door opens and then shuts. You don’t move. It’s Joel. You know the sound of his footsteps, the way he moves through the world by heart. He settles against the railing, arm pressed against yours.

A smile spreads across your lips as your eyes open, landing on his. He smiles back. “Hard to enjoy the view with your eyes closed, Darlin.” His deep baritone rumbles smoothly. You see it in him too, the way the breeze carries away the wear and worry of the world.

“It’s peaceful out here.”

He nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“We should probably get back in there before the kids break something.”

Joel nudges you with his shoulder. “Don’t jinx us like that.”

“Our two? Unsupervised? That’s asking for it.”

“Our two?” A playful glint glimmers in Joel’s deep brown eyes. “My daughter is perfectly well behaved. It’s your little menace that’s the bad influence.”

“Oh my four year old is the bad influence?” You cross your arms, doing your best to keep the smile at bay.

“For sure- got his dad’s streak for mischief. My Sarah is a perfect angel.” He sticks his tongue out at you.

You roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder, but you don’t have a good response. He’s not wrong. Nathaniel knows how to get into places he shouldn’t. “I seem to recall an incident involving a ten pound bag of flour that says differently.”

Joel chuckles at the memory. Nathaniel was barely a week old when Sarah shrieked in the kitchen only for you to find her and the kitchen dusted in white powder. You had cried upon seeing it, postpartum hormones raging. Joel had cleaned your entire kitchen top to bottom.

“She felt so bad for making you cry,” Joel laughs.

“I think I scared her.”

The door opens again. Sarah and Nathaniel break out, rushing for your legs and begging to go to the beach.

You spend the next several days lazing on the sand, reading more than you have in years as you soak in the sun. The kids run around chasing seagulls and other creatures. Joel helps them catch waves on boogie boards. You both take them further out to ride the waves. Sarah’s arms clutch around Joel’s neck, and Nathaniel does the same to you. They build sandcastles and Joel digs holes big enough to bury them both.

At night, the kids are out by 8 o’clock if not earlier allowing you and Joel to sit out on the deck and drink. Your skin is warm from the constant sun. Joel’s cheeks are tinged pink on your third evening, his chest rosier. The salty air works at his hair, bringing out curls. You like this version of him a lot. You like this version of yourself too.

Your feet sit in his lap as he massages your legs and feet, calves worn out from lugging your belongings across the sand and back. He stares up at the sky, twilight bringing the first few stars with it. You sip your homemade margarita, Joel’s specialty, from a red solo cup.

“I shoulda brought my guitar. Only thing that could make this moment better,” he says.

You hum softly, shifting in your chair. “Wouldn’t be able to massage my feet if you had your guitar.”

He laughs, so easy, so relaxed. You can’t remember the last time things felt this good. “Don’t worry, you’d still get your massage.”

“Why didn’t you bring it?” You cock your head to the side.

“Wouldn’t fit in the car, miss over packer.”

You roll your eyes softly kicking at him. “We’ve used everything I packed. Speaking of which, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” You take another sip of your drink. Joel finds a knot in your calf, working it out as you let out a slight hiss.

Joel shrugs, carefully watching your reactions careful to inflict as little pain as possible. “Ask the kids.”

“It’s Father’s Day.”

“Kids like pancakes.” Joel sips from his own drink before returning to the knot.

“But you don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what I like, Darlin.”

“Well, it does tomorrow.” You cross your arms.

Joel sighs rolling his eyes.

You narrow yours. “Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I will.”

He considers it a minute before deciding it’s a losing battle. “Those omelets you made for my birthday. I really liked those.”

You smile. “I can manage that.”

You sit in bed with Nathaniel the next morning to call Tommy. As early as possible is preferred, not that Tommy will care. He’s been blowing you off more, hardly talking when you call or visit, seemingly uninterested when you talk about Nate. It’s exhausting. You dread it, but you continue anyway.

It takes a while before Tommy’s voice comes through the speaker. You force an exaggerated smile to your face for Nathaniel’s sake. Daddy is an abstract being to him. “Hey babe. Happy Father’s Day!”

“Oh… that’s today?”

You push back the annoyance rising inside you. “Nate wants to say hello.” You hold the phone up to your four-year-old’s ear.

“Hello?” he says.

You can barely make Tommy’s pathetic response. He won’t even pretend for Nathaniel and that’s the unbearable part of all this.

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel says, taking hold of the receiver before he dives into updating his stranger of a father all about their beach vacation. Tommy stays quiet the whole time.

Rage begins to boil just under the surface. Before it can bubble over, Nathaniel says goodbye, shoving the phone into your chest and dashing out of the room the moment he hears Sarah moving around in the living room.

“Tommy?”

“Look, I need to go.”

You're not sure what’s worse. The hurt or the anger inside you. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

“Tommy.” It sounds like a scold. That’s exactly what it is.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for your wife and son?”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Are you actually going to call on Friday? Or am I gonna end up sitting next to the phone all evening?”

You get silence.

“Tommy?”

“I’ll call.” And then the line goes dead.

You want to scream or yell or cry or all three. You settle for throwing a pillow across the room and giving yourself 5 minutes to cry. There may only be three months of this left, but you’re not sure you’ll actually be talking to your husband at the end of it, not that the two of you do any talking now.

Wiping your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to start on Joel’s promised breakfast. Nathaniel and Sarah sit at the table comparing sea shells. “Aunt Bonnie?”

“Yes baby doll?” You smile, kissing her head.

“Which one would Daddy like on his card?” She points to a collection of about 5 shells.

“Hmmm,” you crouch down to her level, looking them over. “I think he would like any of them, but this one looks like him.” You point to a blue-grey shell.

She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. “It does look kinda grumpy like him.”

You laugh. That isn’t what you meant, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’m making omelets. What do y’all want in yours?”

The kids are digging into their breakfast when Joel walks out of his room, arms stretching above his head to reveal a little sliver of his tummy. Sarah quickly shoves her Father’s Day project under some magazines.

“Look who decided to wake up.” You smile over your shoulder. “Morning sleepy head.”

“One day of the year I get to sleep in.” He mumbles, shooting a teasing glare your way. He clocks your red eyes before you can turn away.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sarah yells, standing on her chair to give Joel a hug. He chuckles, pulling her into his arms, spinning around, and setting her back on the chair with ease. She laughs.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel grins at his uncle.

“Father’s Day.” Sarah corrects. Nathaniel simply shrugs like he’d said the correct thing to begin with.

Joel chuckles, kissing his nephew’s cheek. “Thanks, Bud.”

You track his footsteps over to your side of the kitchen as you invest your full attention on the omelet in front of you. You know he caught your tear-stained eyes. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” You say, keeping your voice even.

You feel his full body heat behind you, a hand falls to your waist as he reaches into the cabinet next to the stove for a coffee mug. Something settles in your stomach.

“What did my idiot brother do now?” He keeps his voice low so the kids don’t overhear.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Your head snaps toward him. He’s right there, face so close to yours. Always nearby.

“You sure?”

You bristle a little bit. He drops his hand but stays in your space. “Not right now. We’re celebrating you this morning.” He smiles softly at you. “And I don’t want to burn your omelet, so scram.” You cock your head to the side.

He waits a second, searching for any signs he’s missing something. When he’s sure he isn’t, he gives you a soft smile and a tender kiss on the forehead, and steps over to the coffee pot, leaving you feeling warm and hazy.

The kids help clean up after breakfast. Sarah stands on a bench at the sink to wash dishes and Nathaniel waits patiently with a dish towel to dry the lighter dishes. You and Joel sit at the table, second and third cups of coffee in hand as you oversee their efforts.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this next phase of parenting,” Joel says with a long, content sigh.

You feel the easiness thrumming in your veins. Why couldn’t life always be this way? “Yeah if my anxiety about broken dishes or wet feet doesn’t get the better of me first.”

He chuckles softly, sipping from his mug as an easy silence falls between you. You watch the kids and Joel watches you. Sun pours through the many windows of the beach house. You’re not ready to leave tomorrow.

“You wanna talk about it now?”

You sigh. “Not really. We’re supposed to be celebrating you today.”

“I’ll be able to enjoy myself more if I know what’s going on in your head.”

You keep your gaze focused on the kids, rolling the words around in your head. You feel emotionally exhausted by it all and you’re not even through the morning hours yet.

“Darlin,” Joel kicks at your foot, smile on his face. “C’mon. We can talk about it.”

You set your mug down, turning toward him. “He’s just blowing us off again. I spent more time waiting for him to come to the phone than I did talking to him. He hardly interacted with Nate this morning.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to push away the tears pressing to escape.

Joel reaches across the table, taking your hand. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. It grazes past your wedding band, almost taunting you now.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to either of you,” Joel says.

“You’d think I’d stop letting it affect me at some point.”

Joel bites his lip, eyes pinned to your ring finger. “He’s your husband. Needs to start acting like it,” Joel says gruffly. You catch the spark of something in his deep brown eyes, but you don’t have time to place it.

“We’re done!” Sarah exclaims with a proud smile, her shirt soaked through.

You pull your hand from Joel’s, wrapping it around your warm mug as you laugh. “Thank you for your help. Both of you.” Nathaniel puts the dish towel carefully over the oven handle, shooting you the biggest grin.

“Can we do presents now?” Sarah asks, curls bouncing with her.

“Presents?” Joel says. “Y’all didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Sarah says, looking to you for permission.

“I think now is a great time for gifts.”

Both kids run toward their shared room. They had been very excited at the promise of bunk beds. You ease out of your chair. “Not you too.” Joel shakes his head.

You shoot him a wink. “Suck it, Miller.”

Flashes of your delayed Mother’s Day celebration jump between you. Joel had switched up the weekends and hadn’t been prepared, but had made up for it the following weekend. You hadn’t heard from Tommy. He never even mentioned it.

You grab the small box from your suitcase, a small white bow tied around it. The four of you settle in the living room. You sit tucked into one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end, a bouncing kid on either side of him.

“Me first!” Sarah says, handing her card and hand-wrapped gift to her father.

Joel takes care, slowly reading the card out loud. His gift consists of a souvenir snow globe and a puca shell necklace. She picked them out with great care at the beach shop the two of you stopped in yesterday. He oos and awes over both.

“You should put on the necklace!” Sarah says, standing up on the cushions of the couch.

“Maybe I want to admire it more,” Joel says.

You bite back a smile. He’s already lost this battle and you both know it.

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” She grabs it from his hand, determination, and concentration painted on her face as she wraps it around his neck.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Daddy.” You tease, shooting him a wink. He pokes his tongue out at you as Sarah almost chokes him in the process of securing the necklace.

“Not so tight, baby girl.”

“Oops,” she giggles. “All done.”

She steps back to admire her handiwork, looking quite pleased. “What do you think, Aunt Bonnie?”

“Beautiful,” You smile, laughter evident in your tone of voice. “You look ready to hit the beach.”

“My turn!” Nathaniel announces, handing Joel a hand-drawn picture depicting their day at the beach yesterday. He goes into great detail describing everything he drew. Joel’s hand rests on Nate’s shoulder blades, head tucked toward him as he takes in everything the boy says with practiced patience and intentionality.

It strikes something in your heart, a deep longing. That should be Tommy. But it also sends a deep sense of gratitude toward your brother-in-law for picking up where his brother has failed. You swallow back the tears, losing track of how much you’ve had to do that today.

“Thank you, Bud. I love it.” Joel kisses Nathaniel's head.

“You’re welcome, Daddy.”

Joel freezes. Ice rushes through your bloodstream. Your eyes meet Joel’s. What do you say to that? Neither of you knows the answer.

“He’s not your daddy, Nate,” Sarah says, pulling out her older sister voice. “He’s your uncle.”

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel shrugs, unbothered by his mishap as he swings his legs back and forth, hitting the couch with his heels as he does.

“Aunt Bonnie, do you have the other gift?” Sarah asks, determined to keep the morning on schedule.

“Yeah, right here.” You fumble around, finding the box tucked between yourself and the couch. Joel keeps his eyes on you trying to figure out what’s running through your mind, but he can’t.

Sarah plucks the box from your hands before presenting it to her father. “This is from all three of us.”

She looks very proud of herself. Joel takes it with a smile, eyes flickering back to you briefly. You give him an encouraging nod.

He loosens the bow, pulling off the top. The kids lean over either side of his body, excited for the reveal even though they’ve both seen it. He pulls it out, inspecting it carefully. A black watch face with silver accents and an olive green watch band. His eyes dart to yours. You smile at him.

“You’ve been talking about it for years.” You smirk, sipping your coffee. “You were never gonna do it yourself.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted.” He shakes his head, a stunned chuckle shaking his chest. “How’d you know?”

“Found an old picture Tommy had stored away last fall.”

“Look at the back.” Sarah bounces with excitement.

Joel flips it over. His brows knit together as he catches the inscription. Happy Father’s Day. We love you. Sarah and Nathaniel. 1997.

“Do you like it?” Sarah looks up at him with sparkling excitement.

“I love it.” He kisses her cheek, thanking both the children. He wraps it around his wrist, buckling it into place.

“Now you won’t be late anymore,” Sarah says, making you and Joel laugh.

“We can only hope,” you say.

Joel looks up at you with one of the most heartfelt smiles you’ve ever seen. His lips move silently. Thank you.

You nod in response.

You spend the final day of your vacation on the beach until the sun has disappeared. Joel ends up running back to the house to grab the car so your two very tired children don’t melt down. You hurry through bath time, trying to get all the sand from hair and bodies. You’re sure you’ll be finding sand all over your and Joel’s homes for months.

You provide goodnight hugs and kisses, but Joel takes bedtime duties. You’re cleaning up the kitchen, and packing up pantry items when the first lines of You Are My Sunshine drift out of the kid’s bedroom in Joel’s soft melodies. The kids' sleepy voices talk him into another lullaby and then another before their eyelids slip closed and their breathing evens out.

The door clicks softly and you’ve already pulled the margarita pitcher and new solo cups. “See they talked you into the whole set list tonight.” You smile, filling the cups with the last of the margaritas.

“It’s the last night of vacation.” Joel chuckles. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and the half-eaten bag of pretzels. “They asked so nicely.”

“And you’re a big softy.”

You grab both cups, following Joel out to your spot on the deck. It’s cooler tonight, the breeze a bit stronger. You sit across from each other, feet propped in the seat of the other’s chair with the blanket spread across your legs. Joel sets the pretzels right at your knees.

“Did you enjoy your day?” You ask, sipping on the day-old margarita. It goes down easier tonight, and your cup is filled to the brim.

“It was a good day.” Joel smiles at you, easy and relaxed. The world and your issues feel so far away here despite the day’s earlier events. “Probably the best Father’s Day yet.”

“Oh you mean it beats the raw banana bread from last year?” You’re laughing before the sentence fully leaves your mouth. Joel’s head falls back, chest vibrating with laughter.

His hair curls more from the salty air and fits him, tanned skin, curly hair, Puca shell necklace and all. You wonder if you look like a similar version of yourself, the relaxed beach version.

“Sarah trying to choke me with the necklace beats whatever it was you tried to bake last year.”

You stick out your tongue. The pretzel bag rustles as he grabs a handful. You take another drink from your cup. Joel Miller makes a mean margarita.

“What about you? Did you have a good day then?”

You take an extra second to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. I can’t complain when it comes to well-behaved kids and the beach.”

“Nathaniel calling me dad didn’t throw you off, I hope.”

Your shoulders tense a little bit. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that.”

“Kinda surprised it hasn’t happened sooner if I’m being honest.” Joel’s pointer finger slides along the lip of his cup before he brings it to his lips.

You bite your lips, staring at the house across the street. “Same.”

“Sorry, that was kinda a mood killer.” Joel’s hand rests on your calf.

“It’s fine. You’re more of a father to him than his real dad.” You try to wave it off, but the facts are reeling in your mind like a movie. “Fuck, you were in the delivery room, and coached his T-ball team, and you’ve tucked him into bed more times than Tommy ever has.” You swipe away the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, chasing them with another gulp of your drink.

“Hey… maybe you should slow down there.” Joel leans forward, his feet dropping from your chair as he grabs the solo cup from you and the pretzels tumble to the deck.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You reach for the cup, but Joel keeps it out of reach, setting it on the ground next to his.

“I do.” He’s firm with you, grabbing your hands and tucking them between his. You can’t meet his eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. “What's going on in your mind right now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin,” He tugs gently on your arms. Your feet greet the warm deck as you're forced to sit up straighter. The side of your knee bumps against his. “You can talk to me.”

“I just want to enjoy our last night, Joel.”

“Can’t do that if I’m worried about you.” He tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The street lights flicker off his warm eyes. You feel his touch linger under your chin. Extra warmth gathers in each place he touches. The words bubbling up in you, helpless to stop the thoughts circling in your head for months.

“I’m not sure my marriage is salvageable. I don’t know if I’ll recognize my husband when he gets out. I don’t think he’s the same person-“ You can’t finish through the choked-out sobs.

Joel lets out a soft sigh and before you know it, he’s tugging your pliant body into his lap, rubbing your back. He kisses your head. Your head finds the crook of his neck, fingers digging into the back of it. He’s the steady rock he’s always been. It does little to soothe your racing mind.

You have so many questions and no answers. Tommy’s release from prison always felt like a distant finish line. Now, three months away, it feels like just the start.

“No matter what, I’ve got you,” Joel says, hand cupping your cheek. “I’m here for you.”

How much longer can you continue to find solace in your brother-in-law's arms? How much longer will Joel play the part Tommy is supposed to? Supporter, parent, partner…

You pull back, fingers still wrapped around his neck. The metal of your wedding ring presses against his skin, but he’s used to feeling it. He doesn’t even think about it anymore. Your forehead nearly touches his. The pools of his deep eyes are endless. They’re different than Tommy’s. You don’t mean to compare, but you like it, soft and inviting after sleeping on rocks for years. You think you catch the hints of desire in them. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be desired.

There’s a fight, a push and pull between you. Who’s going to do it. His hot breath fans across your lips. Who’s going to be the one to finally cross the line you’ve been toeing for so long and drag the other one into exile with them? It’s a lush oasis in the middle of the desert you’ve been traveling. One move and you can dip your toe in.

Joel gives in first, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut with anticipation, another touch of his breath. His nose nudges against yours. You catch a whiff of the salt on his skin, and then, nothing, a mirage all in your head leaving you stranded in the desert.

Confusion knits your brow before your eyes are open. Joel is still close, closer than a man that’s not your husband should be, but he feels further away than ever.

His thumb nudges your bottom lip. He gives a weak smile in an attempt to cover his true emotions. “We can’t…”

He’s right. You hate yourself for getting so carried away. “I know.”

Your hand drops from his neck. You might be sitting on his lap but he’s never felt farther from you.

“You should go to bed.”

You think to fight him on it, but you decide not to. You stand up. Joel doesn’t move, thumb playing with the lip of his solo cup. He can’t meet your eyes and it feels like you might be losing him too.

Before you can think better of it, you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers rake through his hair twice over. His eyes close and he lilts into you just the slightest.

“Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as you pull away. He keeps his eyes pinned ahead, fingers curling around the red plastic. He’s barely holding on to control.

“Good night,” he says, voice gruff, never looking away from his fixed point.

“Goodnight.”

Joel finishes off yours and his margarita before he falls into bed. It’s just enough to keep him buzzed as he runs toward rest. He can’t get the feel of you out of his mind, how close he was to ripping apart his whole family.

He’s in and out of sleep when the door pops open. He assumes it’s Sarah. She probably had a bad dream, and tosses the corner of the comforter back. Except, the full size mattress dips lower than it should. He reaches out but instead of Sarah’s small frame, he gets a handful of your waist as the smell of you fills his nostrils. In the haze of sleep, Joel opens his eyes just enough to find you facing away from him.

The bed isn’t big enough for his legs not to tangle with yours, not if he wants restful sleep. Your body doesn’t tense under his touch. You don’t say anything. Neither does he, but your body melts into him until he finds his arm fully around your middle, back flush against his front.

Joel Miller considers himself a good man, but a good man doesn’t yearn for his brother’s wife. A good man doesn’t give into the temptation to have her so close, to be with her so intimately. Tonight, Joel Miller doesn’t worry about being a good man. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but tonight, Joel Miller falls asleep with you in his arms and bed. Tonight, Joel Miller’s deepest desires come true. Just for tonight, he gets to pretend you’re his.

You wake up to an empty bed like you have since Tommy went to prison, but something feels off about it. A familiar smell lingers under your nose, and unfamiliar warmth fills you even though the sheets are cold.

You let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at the ceiling, convinced once again that something feels off. You turn to look at the clock on the bed stand but there’s not one there. The walls are a different color and you shoot up as it all comes flooding back.

You almost kissed Joel last night. The way you tossed and turned before giving into temptation and crawling in beside him. He hadn’t fought you, hadn’t said a word but pulled you flush against him in the bed that was just a bit too small. You’d slept like a baby for the first time in years.

Joel sits at the table with the kids as they shovel the last of the extra sugary cereal into their mouths. A special vacation treat. You expect Joel to ignore you or at least be standoffish, but he hands you a cup of steaming coffee with the same smile he always does, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as if nothing happened.

You offer a smile in response. A silent agreement to never speak on it again.

You’ve been home for a week when it comes, a plain white envelope stuffed with something soft labeled with a return address you’re all too familiar with written in Tommy’s chicken scratch handwriting.

You wait until Nathaniel is down for the night, but it throws you the whole evening. Letters from Tommy are more rare than phone calls. You’ve received one, maybe two since he was incarcerated. Considering he’d promised to call on after Father’s day and hadn’t, the mysterious letter makes you feel unsettled. What shoes are left to drop?

You run the envelope through your hands, thumb picking at the corner of the seal, uncommitted to actually tearing it open. You’re worried whatever lies within will only hurt you more. You can’t sustain more hurt.

Finally, you dig into the corner, tearing it open. Your eyebrows knit together. White fabric is neatly folded and tucked within. You pull it out, revealing a square of white fabric, like a bandana unfurls and a note falls to the floor. As you take in the black and white drawing on the fabric, you gasp. It’s a drawing of the picture you keep on your nightstand. The moment Tommy met Nathaniel for the first time. Tommy’s arm is wrapped around you, Nathaniel in his arms with the biggest grin on his face. It’s a moment that’s seared into your memory. Seeing it portrayed like this brings tears to your eyes, the emotions from that day and the last 696 flooding your body.

Before the tear completely blur your vision, you pick up the note. You can barely make out Tommy’s handwriting when your eyes are clear, but you manage.

Baby,

You and I both know I didn’t draw this. My cellmate did based on the photo. You probably know that. They call them paños. I’ve seen a lot of the ones guys in here have sent to their girls. They’re pretty cool.

I’m sorry. I wish I could be better for you and Nathaniel. I love you, Bonnie.

Tommy.

Tears stream down your face. Just like that your heart seems to forget the heartache of the last couple years. This proves that your Tommy is still inside him somewhere, fighting to come back to you. You’ll do anything to have your Tommy back.

It doesn’t matter if you're grasping at threads. Your heart overpowers your mind. You’re determined that you can pull him back by those threads, maybe not now, but once he’s out. Once he’s out, you can bring him back. You’re his Bonnie. He’s your Clyde. You’re tied together. Your heart beats for him, but you don’t catch a piece of your heart breaking off from the rest. That part can't beat for Tommy. It’s attached to someone else.

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75 @millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #high infidelity (joel miller)#ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

Text

episode two: the weirdo on maple street

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp. “Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your review sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

summary: you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

rating: general, but there's cursing as usual and steve being... well, steve - but hes still season 1 steve so give him some time

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, use of y/n, and there's more angst in this chapter with some fighting between reader and jonathan, so fair warning.

words: 10.1k (the longest thing ive ever written)

before you swing in: i'm almost done with chapter 4, so here's a sweet treat as i cram for exams lmao. some housekeeping: should i do a tag list ? i got a few questions about it, so pls let me know soldiers. also, i feel the need to clarify that i adore nancy but for plot reasons - reader and her don't really get along (but they def will later, trust me). season 1 nancy and steve are just so silly. anyways, i hope y'all enjoy this loooong chapter. the rest definitely aren't as lengthy due to plot, but wow. i amazed myself. carry on !

Your jeans drip onto the Wheeler’s carpet, and you’ve definitely left a wet imprint on the couch cushion beneath you. The other boys are dripping as well, but all their attention is on the girl in front of them.

After finding her in the woods, your motherly instincts kicked in, immediately removing your coat to place on her and gently ushering her to your bike and demanding that the boys go back to Mike’s. Your mom is home, so your house was out of the question, and it’s always been easy sneaking into the Wheeler’s, anyways.

Once you all had made it back, you guided the girl onto the couch and sat next to her. You refuse to let her go too far from you, having no idea where she came from or why, but regardless you know she’s too young for any of it to have been good.

Which leads you to now: wearily watching the boys stare at the girl as if she’s some science experiment, asking her a million questions a second.

Bless them and their little prepubescent minds.

Lucas reaches out to touch her, and before you can nudge him away, Mike slaps at his hand. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!” Lucas retaliates, which honestly? That’s fair. The girl hasn’t said anything yet, even after your multiple attempts to get her to do so. No matter how much you try, you can’t coax a response out of her.

“I bet she’s deaf.” Your brother offers, suddenly clapping his hands to scare her, making both you and her flinch. “Not deaf…”

You roll your eyes at him. “Guys, she’s probably just really scared right now. We should give her some space,” you look at both Lucas and Dustin, “and time,” now you look at Mike. The three boys deflate a bit.

“She’s probably cold,” Mike says after a moment of silence, and you nod at his suggestion. Seeing your agreement, he walks over to a basket of clothes and takes out some pajamas.

While Mike is away, thunder rumbles and the girl jumps, unconsciously getting closer to you. You wrap an arm around her reassuringly, making note that she doesn’t like loud noises. If anything, she’s showing more and more signs of trauma response, which makes you uneasy. You remember Hopper saying something about Will being in danger. What are the odds that this little girl was running from something as well?

“Here, these are clean.” Mike’s return breaks you from your thoughts, and you take the clothes from him and stand up. You thank him, then offer your hand to the girl. She looks at you uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go get you dressed in some warm clothes. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“She’s super nice.” Dustin says, trying to help.

Lucas adds, “Yeah, you can trust her.”

“She’s alright.” Is all Mike offers.

You give them all an appreciative smile, even if Mike is being a bit of an ass, and then you feel a small, cold hand wrap around yours. The girl stands up, looking around shyly, and you lead her to the bathroom. When you go to close the door, she stops you.

Mike has followed, seeing the interaction. “You don’t want it closed?”

Her voice is quiet, solemn. “No,”

You and Mike look at each other, and he voices what you’re thinking. “So you can speak.”

He looks excited about this new information, and you shove his head out of the doorway. She needs to get dressed. “We’ll leave the door cracked, okay?”

She nods at you, and you stand guard outside the door. It’s not that you don’t trust the boys, but Mike has only known her for ten minutes and he’s already been nicer to her than you’ve ever seen him with anyone else. The only other person he’s this soft spoken to is Will, so you’re protective of her.

You can hear the boys discussing tonight’s events from the living area while the girl gets dressed. They sound scared, and a part of you can’t blame them. While you’re fairly certain that the girl isn’t dangerous, it’s still a creepy situation. Once again, Hopper’s new theory surrounding Will floats through your mind. This all can’t be some coincidence.

Sighing, you approach the boys and catch a bit of the conversation.

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” You hear Lucas saying, and you figure they’ve finally pieced together that there’s no way any of you can tell anyone about the girl. None of you were supposed to be out tonight. As much as you know you should tell an adult, you also need to be able to help Jonathan with finding Will. If your mom locks the house down, you’re doomed.

“Lucas is right,” the boys turn to you. “We can’t go to anyone about this just yet, but I also don’t think it’s a good idea to hide her. She’s been through something terrible, it’s obvious. Tonight, I say she gets some rest. We can figure out what to do later.”

Mike nods, for once agreeing wholeheartedly with you. “She’ll sleep here tonight-”

Dustin’s eyes widen in horror, “You’re letting a girl-”

You clamp your hand over his mouth, motioning for Mike to continue.

“Thanks, Y/N. In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst,”

They think she’s from Pennhurst? You think, but don’t verbalize it.

“Or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear! And tomorrow night, we go back out, and this time we find Will.”

You gotta hand it to Mike Wheeler, he may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a smart pain in the ass. The plan is pretty sound, so long as he follows through with it. However, it’s him following through with it that leaves you a bit unsure.

He looks at you for approval, and you hesitantly nod. “It’s a pretty good plan, Wheeler. So long as you stick to it.”

Lucas and Dustin nod along with you, there’s an unspoken sense of doubt that Mike will actually be able to turn the girl over to his mom. Then she walks out, dressed now in some of Nancy’s old clothes. She draws into herself when you all turn to her, shy. You walk over and offer your hand again, which she accepts.

“Mike, go find her something to sleep on. Dustin, we gotta go soon before mom notices we’re gone.”

Both boys comply, with Mike searching for a sleeping bag and Dustin packing up his stuff. You crouch down next to the girl, so that you’re face to face, and give her a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you. My name is Y/N, I hope Mike over there doesn’t give you a hard time tonight.”

Mike flips you off, having heard you. “If he’s annoying,” you lean in close to her now, whispering in her ear. “You have my permission to pinch him.”

The girl giggles, finally relaxing a bit, and you warm with pride. She’ll be okay, she seems like a very resilient girl and you’ll oddly miss her.

The two other boys are waiting for you upstairs. You all wish Mrs. Wheeler a good night and head out. Thankfully the rain has now stopped, so the bike ride home isn’t bad. You stop at Lucas’ turn to make sure he gets home safely before finally arriving at your place. As Dustin begins pedaling into your driveway, you don’t follow.

“I’m going to go see Jonathan, he didn’t answer my calls earlier and I just…”

Dustin waves at you, not even bothering to turn around. “Yeah yeah, go see your boyfriend. If mom asks, you’re asleep.”

“He’s not my boyfriend-”

“Are you seriously going to argue with me after I offered to cover for you?”

Your brother gives you a pointed look, and you know he’s right. “Touche.”

Dustin goes to leave, but you quickly grab at his jacket. “Before I forget, swear to me that you’ll keep me updated if anything weird happens, okay?”

He nods at you, knowing better than to argue, and gives you a mock salute as he heads inside.

The living room light is on when you arrive at the Byers home, despite the late hour, but you aren’t surprised. You knock on the door and wait. When no one comes, you knock again, a bit louder this time. After another few moments, the door swings open.

Jonathan has a finger over his lips in a shushing manner, motioning to Joyce who is passed out on the couch. You nod, letting him know you understand. The two of you go to his room and when he closes the door, you finally get a good look at him. He looks worse than he did earlier, the bags under his eyes have somehow gotten darker. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot.

“You’re soaked.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t want to talk about it yet, so you play along. “Got caught in the rain. Are some of my spare clothes still in your bottom drawer?”

He nods at you, going over and grabbing a t-shirt and pajama pants for you. You accept them gratefully and excuse yourself to the bathroom to change. Your bones are cold, the rain seemingly having penetrated the layers of your skin. In the mirror you see that your own eyes are bloodshot; you don’t look much better than Jonathan, really.

When you return Jonathan is sitting on his bed, so you join him. It’s silent between you, all you can hear is his breathing. You stare straight ahead, so does he, and you wait. You’ve only seen Jonathan like this a handful of times, where the stress and anxiety becomes too much for him. He shuts down, draws into himself, and all you can do is wait for him to return to you; he always does.

“Mom got a call tonight.” Jonathan’s voice is hoarse, and he looks frail. You wonder if he ever did end up making the spaghetti you prepared for him.

“Who was it?”

He swallows heavily, taking a moment to respond. “She said it was Will.”

“Will?” You look at him now, searching for any signs on his face, his voice lacks emotion. By the way he stares blankly ahead, as if he’s not really present with you right now, you know that it hadn’t been Will on the other end.

“She started freaking out, going ballistic,” his voice cracks a bit, so you take a chance and reach for his hand. He lets you take it, giving you a squeeze, before continuing. “She was screaming, begging whoever it was to give Will back.”

Jonathan pauses again. You don’t say anything, because no words will help. He’s never been the type for comforting words, anyways. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “It wasn’t him. Lightning struck and our phone got charred. It wasn’t Will.”

Now it’s your turn to squeeze Jonathan’s hand. He doesn’t deserve any of this. None of the Byers do. Out of the entire town, they’re the family who deserves the most that life can give. Will, too good. Jonathan, too selfless. Joyce, too loving. They’re the best damn people you know.

“I tried calming her down, but she was hysterical. She’s only asleep right now because she worked herself up too much and passed out. I’m worried she-'' Jonathan shakes his head, as if ashamed by his own words. “I’m worried she’s going crazy, Y/N.”

He’s quiet again, but you can tell he’s about to break. His knee is now bouncing up and down and his breathing has become slightly ragged. Everything from today has been building up, it was only a matter of time before he snapped. You’re also worried about Joyce, a part of you skeptical to believe her, but the little girl you found tonight in the rain? Something was definitely weird about Will’s disappearance, but you’re hesitant to tell Jonathan just yet. For all you know, she could’ve simply been a girl who got lost and will be returned to her family tomorrow.

You don’t want to worry Jonathan any more than you need to.

“I should’ve been there for him. I shouldn’t have taken that shift.” He gasps out, and like a dam the tears begin to fall. You’re quick to pull him into a hug and he crumbles into you. His body shakes with violent sobs and he clutches at you as if afraid you’ll leave.

“You can’t blame yourself.” You whisper, stroking a hand through his hair. He cries even harder, the force of it almost enough to knock you over, so you situate yourself so that you’re fully on the bed, laying against his pillows, with Jonathan crying into your chest beside you.

“He’s g-gone.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Your own tears threaten to come out, but you force them down. You have to be here for him, he needs you. The only other time Jonathan has so openly cried was when Lonnie left years ago. He’s been holding everything in since then, all those years of looking after his family, taking care of his brother, getting harassed by assholes like Tommy Hagan.

Neither of you say anything else, and you know that Jonathan needs to let it all out. You soothe him as best as you can, running a hand through his hair, stroking his back, reassuring him over and over again that none of this is his fault until your own voice becomes hoarse. You don’t know how long you stay like this, but sometime during the night Jonathan finally falls asleep, and you follow shortly after him.

—

Sunlight streams through Jonathan’s spare bed sheet that he’s pinned over his window, serving as a makeshift curtain, waking you up. You stretch, careful not to wake the boy beside you, and crawl out of the bed. You’re antsy, already knowing that today will be another long day. After grabbing some clothes from your designated drawer and getting dressed, you head into the kitchen and start making a quick breakfast. Just as you’re finishing up, Jonathan comes out of his room, dressed and ready for the day.

Neither of you say anything about the night prior, instead silently working around each other in the kitchen with years of practiced ease. He hands you the salt shaker right when you need it, you grab the pieces of toast that he popped into the toaster, the two of you never once get in each other’s way. You get deja vu, remembering all the times you’ve slept over with Dustin, you and Jonathan making the boys breakfast while they slept in.

The only indication that last night really happened is a forehead kiss from Jonathan, his lips soft against your head. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the touchy one, so it’s always a nice surprise when he initiates the touch, and his forehead kisses were a welcome rarity.

When the plates have been made, Joyce gets up from the couch and stumbles over to the table. You quickly help her sit down, and for the first time since Will’s disappearance you’re able to really look at her. She looks like Jonathan, only worse. The bags under her eyes are darker, her hair is more matted, and you believe she’s still wearing the same shirt you saw her in the night that Will went missing.

“All right, mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan tries to place her plate on the table, but Joyce stops him, worried about the poster of Will.

Jonathan gives you a look and you run over to the table, grabbing the poster so that he can set the plate down.

Joyce gives you a tired smile, “Thank you, Y/N, but I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, mom.”

“Jonathan’s right, Mrs. Byers. You need to eat, we gotta keep your strength up.” You feel like you’re talking to a child, but in a way, you suppose you are.

The woman lights a cigarette instead, and faintly you wonder how many she’s had within the last 48 hours; you’ll need to wash your clothes when you get home. She begins to ask Jonathan to go to Xerox to make as many copies of Will’s poster as possible. You sit down in front of her, silently eating, knowing there’s no place for you in this conversation.

It’s not that the Byers are ashamed that they have little money, but you know it’s rude to listen in. They make do with what they have, and Jonathan has never felt embarrassed with you knowing it.

“I don’t want you to go alone,” Joyce says, causing you to speak up.

“I’ll go with him and help hang them up, it’s no problem.”

Jonathan turns to you. “You have that chem test, remember? I’m not letting you miss that.”

“Shit…” you bury your face into your hands. You completely forgot about that after finding the little girl last night and dealing with Jonathan. You’ve heard about how impossible the chem exams were, and science has never been your best subject. That was Dustin’s thing, your thing was more humanities.

“You’re the smartest person I know, you’ll ace the exam,” Jonathan reassures you before turning to his mom. “And I’ll handle the posters, it’s okay.”

Joyce has been lost in thought during your conversation with her son, only beginning to speak again when she’s asked how many copies will be efficient. Once she starts speaking again, it’s almost like she’s physically unable to stop. She begins to ramble, finally exposing the crumbling woman that you’ve only heard about, now understanding Jonathan’s fears for her.

“Mom-”

“If we… ten cents-”

“Mom!” Jonathan raises his voice a bit, now grabbing at his mother’s hand. “You can’t get like this, okay?”

The look on Joyce’s face kills you. She looks so lost, ashamed of her behavior, and you cast your head down; this is a private matter. Joyce profusely apologizes to him and all Jonathan can do is gently reassure her that it’s okay. All of this is okay.

Their tender moment is interrupted by knocking on the front door, revealing Hopper on the other side. His presence makes you uneasy, so you stay in the kitchen and begin to clean up with Jonathan while Joyce attacks him with questions.

“A little bit of trust here, alright? We’ve been searching all night.” You hear the cop say. Your hand clenches the sponge, rubbing a bit harder at the plate you’re cleaning. If they’ve been searching all night, why are they here now?

“Went all the way to Cartersville.” Ever since Will disappeared, you’ve been building a wall of hope within you that he’ll be found safe and sound. However, with every passing day, with every new situation that occurs, you can feel a piece of the wall collapse. You can feel it now; the search party went all the way to Cartersville.

“And?” Joyce asks.

“Nothing.” The cry that Joyce lets out causes you to drop the plate you’ve been cleaning, shattering on the floor. You curse, immediately bending down to pick up the pieces. Luckily it didn’t shatter into a million bits, but you still feel horrible for breaking one of their dishes.

Jonathan bends down as well to help, and the commotion catches Hopper’s attention. He sees you scrambling to clean up the mess and sighs with annoyance. “Does she live here or something?”

You and Jonathan look at each other, a slight smile on your faces, and only respond to Hopper with a synchronized shrug. You basically do live at the Byers’ at this point, you have been for years now. It was the same for Jonathan: if you weren’t at his house, he was at yours.

Joyce wipes some of her tears away. “Y/N is family, she’s here to help.”

Hopper ignores this, instead bringing up the phone call from the night before. Joyce leads him over to the phone, and you join them once you’ve collected the remaining pieces of broken glass. When you see the phone, you can’t help but gasp. Jonathan’s words from last night are accurate, the phone is charred.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper says.

Joyce waves her arms out, disbelieving. “The storm? You’re saying that that’s not… weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper begins, but you cut him off.

“It’s really weird.”

He glares at you. You mumble a quick sorry and back away a bit while Jonathan asks if the call can be traced. Hopper focuses back on the situation at hand, informing him that it isn’t possible and then questions if Joyce even heard Will in the first place. The question makes you cringe, knowing it’ll only make Joyce more agitated and hurt.

“Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

It’s the way he phrases the question, the way he emphasizes the word “just”, that bothers you. This woman has just lost her kid, what kind of mother wouldn’t know her own child’s breathing?

“Even if it was ‘just’ some breathing, I’d know it was my brother. Will is her son, she’d know better than anyone.” You find yourself saying. The words weren’t meant to leave your mouth, but the appreciative look Joyce casts your way outweighs the fear from Hopper’s glare.

“It was him. It was Will, and he was scared. Then something-”

“It was probably just a prank call,” Hopper tries to reason with her, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You respect the guy, you do, but could he at least attempt to listen to Joyce?

You excuse yourself before you say anything else, heading back into the kitchen to collect the two posters you and Jonathan made. While the others talk, you grab his things and pack his bag for him. You know he’ll probably skip school today to get the copies done in time, maybe keep an eye on his mom, so you make a mental note to inform him later that you’ll help with putting the fliers up the second you’re done with the exam. He needs someone there for him.

When you’ve grabbed the last of Jonathan’s things, Lonnie’s name is mentioned. You freeze, standing right outside the hall from them, only a wall between you. If Lonnie is somehow involved in this, you’ll kill him yourself. He was always cruel to Will, even when you were around to witness it. You hate him more than anything in this damn world.

“It’s been long enough, I’m having him checked out.” Hopper declares, storming out of the house.

You count to three in your head, and the second you get to three, Jonathan is following after Hopper. You knew he would, hating his father the most out of everyone who has had the displeasure of meeting him. You follow behind him, heading outside to talk to the Chief.

“Hey, Hopper. Let me go.”

Hopper takes a drag from his cigarette, facing the two of you. “I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s,” Jonathan says, looking at you for backup.

You do your best to try. “If Will’s there, that means he probably ran away. Cops will scare the poor boy, he’ll think he’s in trouble.”

“And he’ll hide. He’s good at hiding.” Jonathan finishes for you.

Hopper stares at you both, inhaling more smoke from his cigarette and blowing it in your direction with a curious look in his eyes. “You two are sickening to be near, you know that?”

You and Jonathan share an annoyed look. A kid is missing, and you still have to clarify that you aren’t together? “It’s not like that,” Jonathan says.

“Sure, you know cops are good at detecting lies,” Hopper approaches him now, grabbing his shoulders. For a brief second you’re afraid he’ll hurt him. “And we’re also good at finding, okay? Stay here with your mom. She needs you.”

Hopper punches at Jonathan’s shoulder before facing you. “And you,” you brace for whatever he’s about to say, knowing you probably aren’t his favorite person at the moment. He points at Jonathan, “He needs you.”

His words hang in the air several minutes after he’s gone. You glance at Jonathan, but he doesn’t meet your eye and instead he goes back inside. You sigh, following after him because it’s what you do. Hopper’s right, he needs you.

Jonathan’s in the living room, speaking softly to his mom when you enter. You don’t disturb them but rather snatch Jonathan’s keys from the counter and wait for him by the door. Like Joyce said, Xerox opens in about thirty minutes and you have a chem exam to take. If you leave now, you’ll be able to make the copies with him and be back in time before school.

The ride to Xerox is tense, you know Jonathan is upset that he’s been sidelined by Hopper. You also know that he’s torn between wanting to help his mom and staying out of his house as much as possible. If it weren’t for your god damn chem test you’d offer to skip and hide out at your place, but you can’t. Jonathan wouldn’t let you risk your future for him (even though you would, in a heartbeat, a million times over).

The man at Xerox gives Jonathan a look of pity, clearly recognizing Will’s picture on the poster. It’s your favorite photo of him, smiling with all his teeth and happy as can be. From what you’ve heard, the whole town has been conducting search parties for him. Jonathan ignores the look and asks for the 200 copies to be made.

It’s just you and him in the store as you wait for the prints to be done. The guy said it’d be about a ten minute wait so you wander around the store. Jonathan clearly is in a no talking mood, so you occupy yourself with whatever you find. You wish you’d brought your backpack to Jonathan’s last night so you could at least study a bit while waiting, but you didn’t. It’d be a miracle if you pass this exam.

Jonathan wanders around as well, so you give a quick look around and find the employee. He’s standing over the printer when you approach. “I’d like to pay for the copies, please.”

“You can pay after they’re done-”

“No, I can’t let him see,” you point over to Jonathan, who is now looking at some stationary. “Please, just let me pay now so he can yell at me later.”

The guy gives you a shrug, clearly not getting paid enough to care. “Okay, it’ll be $20. Just leave the money on the counter over there, the prints should be done soon.”

You nod and do as you’re told, leaving the $20 bill on the counter while Jonathan isn’t looking. He can kill you later, right now you want to make up for not being able to help with hanging them up. There’s literally hundreds to get through, he can’t do that all alone.

When the posters are done and Jonathan collects them, you wish the worker a good day and then wrap your arms around him and use all your strength to drag your friend into the car. He doesn't fight back at first, too confused by your actions, and you’re almost out the door before he sees the man pocket the money and wave at you. The dots connect in his head and Jonathan begins to fight against you.

“Y/N, let me pay-”

“Nope. Not happening!”

“We both know I’m stronger-”

“Debatable, honestly, seeing as how we’re almost to your car.”

“Let go!” He tugs harshly as his arm, which you’ve got a secure hold on, causing you to stumble a bit.

You plant your feet more firmly against the ground and use all your weight to pull the boy forward. You’re a few feet away from the car, just one more solid pull should do the trick. “Stop fighting this, Byers. I’ve already paid-”

“Which you shouldn’t have!”

“Keep fighting and drop all the posters, I dare you.”

Jonathan looks down at the posters in his spare hand, realizing that you’re right. If he doesn’t give in soon, they’ll topple over. He lets out an agitated groan, throwing his head back, and then marches over to the car to unlock it and fling himself into the driver’s seat. “Just get in.”

You do a small victory dance and hop in the car.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He hesitates only for a moment. “God, I hate that I do.”

You smile, buckling your seatbelt. Jonathan pulls out of the parking lot and begins the drive to school. He’s less tense this time, at least. The small little wrestling match between the two of you seemingly did some good, then.

When you pull up to school, you once again apologize to Jonathan for being unable to help. He waves you off, understanding.

“It’s okay, I promise. I can’t have you failing out of high school because of me.”

You roll your eyes. “One test won’t make me become a high school dropout, Jonathan.”

He ruffles your hair, which you slap him for. “You can join me after, okay? Good luck, bug.”

“Fine, but I’m taking some posters with me so I can hang up on my way to my locker.”

“Deal.”

You run to your locker, flinging it open and letting out a sigh of relief when you spot your chem cards. Honestly, you really should’ve prepared better for your little sleepover at the Byers. You glance at the watch on your wrist, noting that you have roughly fifteen minutes to memorize all the elements in the periodic table as well as some chemistry definitions.

Just peachy.

You tie your hair up so you can focus better and grab the note cards. If you review the cards as you walk to class, you can save at least three minutes of studying time. You tuck the few remaining posters of Will under your arm and begin to head to your class, getting absorbed in all the elements and words. As you’re skimming a card about protein being K, you run into Nancy and Barb, who also seem to have the same idea as you.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” Nancy greets you, Barb waving to you as well.

They’re being nice, so you try to make conversation. “Studying for Kaminsky’s test?”

They nod at you and Nancy sighs, “Yeah, his exams are the worst.”

You laugh a bit, for once on the same page as her. “I know. I spent last night at Jonathan’s, I completely forgot about the test until this morning. I’m screwed.”

Barb raises her eyebrows at you while Nancy suddenly looks sad. “Oh, I’m sorry about Will. I know you and him are close.”

“Yeah, it must be hard taking care of Jonathan right now.” Barb voices.

You give them both an awkward smile. “Thanks, I guess? It’s just, there’s still hope, so…”

The three of you stand there as your voice trails off. It’s painfully awkward. While you’ve known Nancy since you were 12, and at some point you even called her a close friend of yours, the second you entered high school she became distant. You never blamed her for it, people simply grow up and grow apart. Now you only ever interact with her if it concerns the boys.

Trying to ease the awkwardness, you hold up a poster and offer it to them, but Steve snatches it from your grasp.

“Henderson, didn’t know you were also a little know-it-all. Why don’t you share your cheat sheet with the rest of us?” He says, casting a teasing look your way. It isn’t until he inspects the piece of paper that he finally notices that it’s a missing poster for a child, not a review sheet. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

You snatch the poster back from him. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

His friends laugh, but Steve has a bit of heart to look guilty, so you count that as something. His shame doesn’t last long though and the goofy and sweet boy who made sure you were okay after almost hitting you with his car is gone.

Steve plays off the situation as if it were nothing. “Let me make it up to you, Henderson. I know you’re probably stressed out of your mind dealing with boyfriend troubles because of Bill-”

“His name is Will,” you grit out, remembering now why you dislike Steve so much. Everything was about impressing his friends, and while you can sympathize with him, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole.

“Right, Will. Anyways, I was just about to inform Nance over here that my dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause, ya know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call,” Tommy says, and you glare at him.

Steve carries on. “So, are you guys in?”

“In for what?” Nancy asks.

“No parents, a big house?” Carol says, as if Nancy is a giant idiot.

You feel bad for her being treated so poorly by her boyfriend’s friends, so you lean in and whisper, “A party, Nancy.” Then you look at Steve. “And no, I’ll pass.”

Steve pouts. “Can’t leave loverboy alone for a couple hours?”

You scoff, shoving the poster against his chest, using more force than probably necessary, but the satisfying grunt he lets out pleases you. “If I didn’t know you I’d say you sound jealous. Unfortunately, I do know you, and that’s exactly why I’m not interested.”

“Meow,” says Carol as she and Tommy laugh.

You ignore her and push past the group to get to class. You’ve wasted enough time, you have to study. Steve lets you, hurt by your words, but tries to play it off, instead focusing his attention on Jonathan up ahead hanging up some posters. You both see him at the same time and as you start to approach him, you hear Steve and his group mock him.

“God, that’s depressing.” Steve says, and you’ve never wanted to hit a man more than you do right now.

You glance at Nancy, trying to convey your disappointment in her. She’s a nice girl, she shouldn’t be with an idiot like Harrington. Who the hell makes fun of a guy with a missing brother? Nancy doesn’t meet your eye, which pleases you. She should feel guilty.

As you near Jonathan, Nancy calls after you to wait up. You listen, mostly because you’re surprised she even followed, and together you walk up to him. “Hey, bee. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”

Jonathan looks up at your voice, surprised when he sees Nancy next to you. He gives you a look that you conclude is a what is she doing here? look and you can only shrug as if to say I have no clue how I ended up in this situation.

Nancy doesn’t see this exchange. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Jonathan responds, still confused.

Nancy looks at you uncertainly, but you refuse to leave. Screw your exam, if she even considers voicing her boyfriend’s opinions to Jonathan then you’ll personally see that she fails alongside you. “I just… I wanted to say, you know… I’m sorry, about everything.”

Oh, she’s being nice. You’re still unimpressed, but Jonathan motions to you to stop staring her down, so you reluctantly listen.

“Everyone’s thinking about you.”

You all turn towards Steve and his group, who are clearly listening in, and you snort at her words. “Right, obviously.”

“Y/N.” Jonathan warns.

“Sorry.”

“It sucks.” Nancy continues, and you have to give her some credit. You’re being a blatant bitch, but she’s still trying. You feel a bit bad now, which honestly makes you dislike her a bit more. Damn morals. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid.”

The bell rings, ending Nancy’s little monologue. “I have to go, chemistry test. Y/N, want to walk together?”

She really makes it impossible to be a bitch to her. “Sure, just give me a second.”

You lean close to Jonathan and lower your voice. “Good luck with your dad, bee.”

“How did you know I’d go-”

“Because of course you would. Now go, give him hell for me, will ya?”

Jonathan nods, relieved you aren’t pushing the topic. You know that Lonnie is a sore topic for him, for the entire Byers family, really. You only knew Lonnie for a year or so before Joyce left him, but you’ll never forget his spiteful words and the bruises that Jonathan tried to hide from you. He needs to do this alone, father and son.

You see Nancy watching, and just to spite her you kiss Jonathan’s cheek, relishing in the fact that she looks away, and you wish him luck once again before following her to class.

The test isn’t as bad as you’d feared, and the rest of the day goes by with relative ease. You don’t see much of Steve and his group and you’re thankful for that. Nancy also keeps her distance, no longer attempting to be all buddy buddy with you. A part of you feels bad about that, because honestly the thought of someone thinking you hate them makes you feel physically ill, but as long as Nancy is with someone like Steve, there’s not much you can do about that.

After school you stop by all of Jonathan’s classes and collect the work he’s missed over the last few days; he has enough to worry about, so you figured you could help do some assignments for him. It’s nothing unusual, truth to be told. There was a time you were out for two weeks straight due to the flu one year and Jonathan did every one of your assignments, so it’s about time you returned the favor.

Once you have what you need, you hang up the remaining flyers in your bag and begin your journey to work. You’ve used up all of your sick days helping the Byers, and while Mrs. Waters has insisted on letting you have more time off, you figured the distraction would be good for you. Jonathan will want some space after confronting his dad, and as much as you hated Lonnie, something told you he had nothing to do with Will.

Just when your shift is almost done, your coworker, this young kid named Alex who you’re honestly surprised can legally work, informs you that your mom is on the phone and wants to speak with you. You stack the remaining books in your hands and thank him, walking over to pick up the call.

“Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, sweetie! I was just calling to tell ya that Dusty is at the Wheeler’s tonight for dinner, so my plan for ribs won’t work without him. I was wondering if darling Johnny could feed you tonight? I know the two of you have that little sneaky food game.”

Your posture, once slumped over and uninterested, now straightens out. Why the hell is Dustin having dinner at the Wheeler’s? They never do that. “Uh, sure mom that won’t be an issue.”

Your mom lets out a sigh of relief. “Bless that Jonathan! I’ve always liked him…”

Your mom may be the biggest Jonathan supporter you’ve ever met. “Yeah, he’s your favorite. I know,” you shift a bit to catch Alex’s attention, mouthing to him that you need to leave work early. “Hey, did Dustin by chance say how long he’ll be at the Wheeler’s? I can swing by and pick him up after my shift.”

“Oh, I think he’s staying the night there. He mentioned something about Mike not finishing his part of their little science project?”

They’re calling the little girl a science project now? Boys are so typical. “Oh, I see. Well, I gotta get back to work, mom. I’ll be home late tonight.”

Your mom wishes you goodbye and warns you not to be out too late. You hum, already trying to figure out the quickest route to the Wheeler’s house. You can’t say you’re surprised that Mike didn’t follow the plan, but you also can’t say you were prepared for this either.

Alex comes back with your boss and you quickly make up a lie about not feeling well. Mrs. Waters gives you a pitying look and tells you to go. You’re incredibly grateful for her, she’s like a grandmother to you and has always been so kind.

You quickly bike to Mike’s house, going over a grand speech in your head for the boys. Logistically speaking, you’re not sure if they can even harbor the little girl in his basement. Would it be kidnapping? Could kids even kidnap other kids? You aren’t sure and you definitely aren’t willing to find out.

You arrive at the house just as Nancy and Barb are pulling out of the driveway, presumably to Steve’s grand house party. They wave at you awkwardly and you don’t have it in you to wave back. You park your bike next to their doorstep and knock on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Wheeler asks after opening the door.

“Oh, I was just wondering if I could hang out with the boys tonight? Jonathan’s busy and I promised Dustin I’d help with their campaign.”

Mrs. Wheeler cocks her head at you. “But I thought there was a special assembly at the school for Will? Nancy and Barb just left for it.”

You feel your blood boil a bit. There was no assembly for Will at your school, and it was really damn low of Nancy to use his disappearance as a cover story for her stupid party. She’s known Will since he was practically a baby. You have no idea how someone could be so unaffected by a missing child, let alone one who has been at your house every damn weekend for years now.

“Oh, that!” You force yourself to remain calm; there isn’t time to snitch on Nancy, Mrs. Wheeler would only have more questions for you. “Yeah, I’m, uh, skipping it. Jonathan doesn’t want to go, so after he’s back from his errands I’m heading over to his place to, you know, comfort him?”

The woman stares at you for a second, trying to determine if there are any lies to your words. You’ve never been the best liar, but being the oldest Henderson child has unfortunately prepared you for being quick on your feet when needed.

“Well, come on then. They boys just went downstairs, and if you can please remind them to bring the plate of food back up here I’d really appreciate it.”

You thank Mrs. Wheeler and let yourself in. Her words have all but solidified your suspicions: Mike kept the girl.

When you descend the basement steps, it’s almost comical how the kids scramble to hide the girl like little cockroaches. They run around and Dustin screams something about covering her before the poor girl is being manhandled into a sheet as Mike screams at Lucas and Dustin to calm down.

“Guys! It’s just me! Jesus!” You shout, shoving past Mike to rush over to the girl and free her from the sheets. She looks more frightened than usual, but at least she’s alive.

“God, why am I always the one you push?”

You shush Mike, smoothing back the girl’s hair and offering her a reassuring smile. “Remember me, sweetheart?”

The girl nods and softly says, “Y/N.”

“Very good. I’m going to scream at my brother real quick, so why don’t you cover your ears for me so you don’t get too frightened?”

“Wait, what-”

The minute her ears are covered, you turn to Dustin and begin screaming. “Are you brain dead and not understand the words ‘tell me if anything weird happens’ or do you simply lack the appropriate empathy needed for a concerned sister?”

Dustin ducks his head in shame. “Y/N, look-”

“No! I’m all for helping you guys with your adventures and whatever, but Will went missing and then she appears and Mike,” you turn to him and he hides behind a frightened Lucas. “You said you’d stick to your plan. Now tell me, did you?”

Mike shakes his head, his eyes wide. Dustin looks no better as he cowers behind the others. Lucas simply shrugs, knowing that this would happen. You never, ever, yell at the boys; the few times you have in the past, all hell had broken loose.

“Y/N-”

“Zip it, Henderson. I’m so pissed off at you right now and if you want to make it to thirteen I suggest you keep quiet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you guys catch me up on what you’ve so sweetly kept hidden from me.” It’s worded as a question, but the boys know better than to deny you.

You sit on the ground so that you’re next to the girl and then motion for the three boys in front of you to start speaking. They look at Mike, giving him a nudge, and he hesitantly steps forward to begin speaking. “Her name is El.”

The girl, El, looks up at you and smiles. You return the smile and knock your shoulder against hers in a playful manner. “Nice to meet you, can I ask what El is short for?”

“Eleven,” she says, and you want to question the name further but the look on Mike’s face stops you. Now is not the time, you guess.

“El, she’s… different.” Mike continues, looking around nervously. He’s acting as if someone could break in any second and snipe you guys, and a part of you doesn’t doubt it can happen. “She has these powers, like, mind control powers.”

You snort, unable to stop yourself. El looks at you, looking unoffended, seemingly expecting this reaction. However, Mike groans at you. “Y/N, this is serious. She-she knows about Will.”

At this, your smile fades and you feel an overwhelming sense of hope take over you. You find your arms wrapping around El before you can control yourself and you give her a tight hug. She stiffens in your arms and you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I just… sorry.”

She laughs a bit, softly saying that it’s okay.

“Do you really know Will? Where he is?” You ask, almost too scared to say the words out loud. If she’s telling the truth… you shake your head in an attempt to dispel any false hope. You don’t know this girl, she could be lying.

Before El can say anything else, Mike speaks for her. “She does, but there’s bad men out there who want to hurt her. I think they’re after Will, too.”

You freeze. “Bad men?”

“Yes, this is why we didn’t want to tell you!”

“I wanted to tell her,” Lucas says, which causes Mike to glare at him.

You wave your arms at the two boys, breaking up their fight. “Mike, what do you mean by bad men? Honey,” you look at El, “did someone hurt you? Are you in danger? Should I call the police?”

“No!” All three boys shout at once.

You look at them, at the genuine fear in their eyes, and sigh, “Okay, if you can give me a good reason not to call the cops, I won’t.”

“Did you not hear the part about El having powers?” Dustin asks.

“Gee, Dustin. You’re right! It’s like her having powers is totally believable and reassuring to the situation at hand!”

“I can show you,” El speaks up.

You all face her now. “You can?”

She nods at you, getting up and grabbing your backpack that you threw on the ground when you walked in. She rustles through it while you and the boys look at one another. After a few seconds, El grabs one of your comic books and places it on the table. She looks at you and tilts her head, indicating for you to sit down next to her; you do as you’re told.

El straightens out your comic and then closes her eyes, going completely still. The air around you shifts and you can practically feel the static electricity encasing you; the hair on your arms stand up. The pages of the comic begin to flick up, fluttering as if someone is thumbing through them in rapid succession. You watch as the Spidey panels flash before your eyes, the pages flying faster and faster until it becomes almost frightening to be near. Then, once it gets to its last page, the comic flies up into the air and hovers for a few seconds, right in front of your face.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, your eyes wide.

Just as quickly as it began, the comic drops back onto the table. You look up at El and see that her nose is now bleeding, which rips you back to reality. The chair scrapes against the ground as you get up to help her, dabbing at the blood with a tissue that had been laying on the table.

“Do you believe us now?” Mike asks, a smug look on his face.

You gently wipe away the remaining blood from El’s face, looking her in the eye and directing your words to her. “I’m listening, sweetheart. What can you do to help us find Will?”

El smiles, pleased to have earned your trust, and you get the feeling that this little girl is the most powerful thing in all of Hawkins, maybe even the world. At her request, Mike places his DnD board on the table and arranges the pieces for El to use. She sits down and closes her eyes once more.

Lucas gives you a doubtful look. “What’s the weirdo doing?”

You flick his head, not enjoying the name calling. Honestly, you thought you raised these boys better than that.

El seems to accomplish whatever she was doing and picks up the wizard piece, murmuring, “Will.”

You feel your heart stop. Will always insisted on being the wizard whenever they played the game. He was Will the Wise, forever and always. El couldn’t have simply guessed that, and you know it’s her-

“Superpowers,” Dustin finishes your thought for you. The two of you exchange a glance and you notice the slight glee in his eyes. Under different circumstances, you’d also find this all pretty cool.

Mike sits next to El and begins to ask some questions about where she last saw Will. She gives him a look that you can’t quite decipher before swiping her arm across the table and spilling the pieces onto the floor. She then flips the board over, having it now face upside down, and places Will’s piece back down.

You knit your brows together, trying to follow along. El’s movements are methodical and carefully planned, being unable to find the right words due to her poor speech, and you try to piece together the information you’ve been given.

“I don’t understand,” Mike says, being extra gentle with El. You’ve never seen him so soft spoken before and you’re grateful at least one of the boys doesn’t view her as some monster. Which reminds you that you need to have a conversation with Dustin about respecting women, but for now you’ll hold off.

“Hiding.” says El.

He’s good at hiding, Jonathan’s words echo in your head.

“Will is hiding?”

El nods, now looking more nervous. You can tell that Mike is getting closer to information that she doesn’t want him near, which finally causes you to ask the question that’s been heavily on your mind. “From the bad men?”

Now El gives a slight shake of the head, and Mike presses on. “Then from who?”

Without saying anything, El places a second piece onto the board right in front of Will’s. It’s a piece you’re unfamiliar with, with two snake-like heads that loom over the small wizard piece. Whatever it is, you know it isn’t good judging the way Mike, Dustin, and Lucas look at each other in fear.

You turn to Dustin and whisper, “What’s that piece?”

Your brother puts his hands behind his head and sighs deeply, a new resigned look on his face. He looks as if he’s just aged thirty years, which you find a bit dramatic. “It’s the Demogorgon.”

“The Demo-what?” The name sounds familiar, but you can’t remember anything about it.

Mike looks at you and for once his voice holds no annoyance when he says, “There’s a lot we still have to catch you up on.”

–

Your head is spinning as you bike to Jonathan’s with all the new information you’ve just received. Demogorgons, magical vortexes, kids with damn superpowers. It’s all a lot for you to take in, and while you fully believe that El is something entirely different from a normal little girl, how can you be sure that it’s connected to Will? While his disappearance still confuses you, it’s illogical to jump to supernatural conclusions.

Dustin had begged you to let him spend the night at Mikes in order to keep talking to El, and you only agreed because you figured you’d be at Jonathan’s again tonight anyways. He’s been MIA all day and you’re worried as usual, but you made him and Mike swear to you that they’d stay put in the house. At least this way they’re in one place, so if they screw around they’ll be easier to find.

When you arrive at the Byers home you notice that Jonathan’s car isn’t in the driveway, which only confuses you further. Where the hell is he? You gave him all day to deal with Lonnie and cool off, trusting that he wouldn’t do anything stupid for twelve hours, and yet…

You fear he’s done something stupid.

You don’t have time to think too much about Jonathan’s absence because a frantic Joyce runs out the door screaming. She runs straight past you and into her car, and the house begins to light up like a christmas tree. You can hear The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go, a song that Will once had on repeat for three weeks straight, and you can feel the same static electricity in the air that you felt when El used her powers in front of you.

Joyce suddenly gets out of the car and spots you, pointing towards her house. “You see that too?”

You swallow. “Yeah,”

She nods, as if your confirmation is all she needs to determine her sanity, and then marches inside. You stand in the yard, motionless. You’re terrified, and after learning about El tonight, you don’t have it in you to discover any other supernatural beings in Hawkins at the moment. Sighing, you follow after the woman because Jonathan isn’t home and someone needs to talk her down from whatever panic attack the flashing lights have inevitably caused.

“Mrs. Byers-”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me there isn’t something,” Joyce waves her hands in front of her face, almost grasping at the air, “weird about all of this. That was Will’s song, the lights were flashing in Will’s room, something came out of Will’s wall-”

“Something came out of his wall?”

“Yes! I’m not… I promise I’m not crazy, okay? You saw it, please tell me you saw it.”

You bite your lip, now thinking about El. You swore to Mike you wouldn’t tell anyone about her, and honestly you’re not sure that you should tell Joyce about her right now. You’re still unsure if El is being honest with you, and you can’t just give the woman false hope for her son. It’d kill you if you were wrong about El. But seeing the lights, hearing the music, the thing in the wall… There’s something that she’s not telling you.

“Mrs. Byers… I’m not quite sure what I saw, but we just had a bad storm and it could be faulty wiring.”

Joyce slumps her shoulders, frustrated that you aren’t conspiring with her. You just… you can’t. Not yet. Not before you figure out what the hell El is doing in Hawkins. You refuse to worsen Joyce’s already chronic anxiety and paranoia; Jonathan would never forgive you if you fed into her delusions, but it kills you to lie to her.

“Look, I do think that something is weird about this entire situation, “ Joyce’s face lights up, but you’re quick to add, “however, there’s no proof. You, I mean-Mrs. Byers, you’ve seen things in the past. You’re stressed, and anxious, and all the other synonyms.”

The woman lets a few tears drop from her eyes, now embarrassed. “Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry, honey. I just-”

You grab her hand. “I know,”

Her smile is brittle, a ghost of the once beautiful smile she’d give you, and your heart breaks for her.

After your conversation, Joyce excuses herself to her room. She looks even more exhausted than before, so you leave her alone and hole yourself up in Jonthan’s room.

You glance at your watch and note the late hour; you’re starting to worry now. Jonathan didn’t mention anything besides Lonnie and the posters, so you don’t know what else he could be doing so late. He wouldn’t go searching for Will without you.

You wake up to Jonathan returning an hour or so later, apparently having fallen asleep while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” His voice is gruff and surprised.

You groan and rub your eyes. “Turn the light off, bee.”

He doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

The tone of his voice wakes you up a bit, making you sit up and look at him more clearly. His shoulders are tense, his eyes are hiding something, and his overall demeanor is hard to read. “I had something to tell you, but is everything okay?”

“You couldn't have waited until tomorrow? Y/N, this is my house, just… just get out.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re confused by his behavior, now starting to become a bit defensive and hurt by his dismissal.

“You can’t just let yourself in whenever you please.” Jonathan puts his camera on his desk, still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Jonathan, we literally have always let ourselves into each other’s houses whenever we please.”

He rolls his eyes at you and rips off his jacket, throwing it at you. “Get out!”

You catch the jacket before it hits you in the face. “What the hell, Jonathan!”

“Listen, I get that you think you’re a part of the family, but you’re not. You’ve been here for days now, it’s getting old.”

His words cut through you and leave vicious wounds against your skin. He doesn’t mean that, he can’t mean that. You and him were family. He’s never, ever insinuated anything less. He wouldn’t dare. Your Jonathan would never act like this to you, and the only time he’s ever been this cruel to you was when he accidentally dropped Lonnie’s last beer in the fridge and was too embarrassed and ashamed to ask for help; he’d shown up with bruises later that night.

Then it hits you. He did something, something that makes him feel guilty; he keeps glancing at his camera. You soften your voice, “Bee, what did you do?”

He whips around, now yelling. “Nothing! Just get the hell out of my house! It’s getting pathetic!”

You swallow back the angry tears that build in your throat. Fine. Whatever. Let him be a raging bitch after everything you’ve done for him these last few days.

“Fine, I will.” Grabbing your backpack you snatch the assignments you were supposed to give Jonathan and slam them against his chest. “Here’s all your fucking assignments, by the way.”

He seems to come back to himself, blinking away the anger and shame. “Bug…”

“You don’t get to call me that.” And with that, you don’t spare Jonathan another glance.

–

When you get home, the house is eerily quiet. Dustin is at Mike’s and your mom leaves you a note saying that she’s spending the night at your aunt’s. Great. Looks like it’s just you and Mews tonight then.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you never found time to eat dinner, and your stomach is loudly growling. You drop your stuff in your room and then reheat some leftovers, feeling like a pathetic child. You know that Jonathan didn’t mean what he said, but the words had come too easily to him to have just been a way to dodge his guilt. There had been some truth to them. Maybe you were pathetic for always fretting over him.

Dinner is quiet tonight.

You wait for the phone to ring, for Jonathan to call you and apologize, but the call never comes.

You’ve never felt so alone before.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #the thought of steve just taking will's missing poster and then being like oh shit was so funny to me i had to add it #also sad ending #sorry #but also not

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joaniscruzing · 20 days ago

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sailor song - part 1 - e.w.

I am so glad to be writing a series again you guys! Heads up though, I am in school now, so I do need to focus on my studies, which means I can't crank out chapters once a day like I used to!

Y'all. I love Jackson Ellie. I legit have a Halloween costume of this on standby.

Summary: Mostly exposition, reader meets Ellie after a lot of staring from afar.

Warnings: Talks of religion

A/N: I'm trying to set this on after the events of TLOU II. In my head, I always feel like Ellie went back to Jackson and tried to start over and forget everything. I feel like she'd try to better herself, especially after literally losing everything. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

In Jackson, you normally went on about your day. You would wake up, pray, have the occasional outing, go on patrol, and then go back to your abode, where you would sleep. You always noticed Ellie though. Her presence, full of light, darkening as time passed, always penetrated your carelessness towards any outside happenings–or people.

You liked how Ellie carried herself, confident, and taking no shit from nobody. However, you also knew of Ellie’s sexuality, which, in your books, was a sin. While you would typically disregard sinners, there was just something about Ellie that drew you in. You didn’t know if it was the two pools of green mystery that were her eyes, or her low, but enchanting voice. Sometimes you would look from afar, watching her laugh as she smoked her joint and coughed, wondering if you and her would ever cross paths in the future. You presumed that she was too cool for you, too rebellious. In fact, you thought that in a normal world, she’d be a celebrity, as famous as Anne Hathaway, an actress from a movie you had loved watching during the movie nights in Jackson as a little kid, The Princess Diaries.

You didn’t know why you were religious, you supposed that it was a way for you to make some sense of the situation around you. After all, you could sum up this apocalypse as just part of God’s plan; and you wouldn’t have to overthink about the issues that came from it and the harshness of the situation. That aside, you wore the cross necklace you found one day while exploring some abandoned building out of boredom proudly and constantly. You read your bible every night, in hopes that maybe it would help you understand your circumstances, and in hopes that there would be a heaven for you to go to in the future.

One day though, after a rather sleepless night, you found yourself heading into town for coffee, looking rather disheveled. You were so tired, in fact, that you didn’t realize that your coffee was sloshing all around in its cup, and getting all over you.

“Hey!” Ellie called, running behind you.

“Huh?” you replied wearily, snapping out of it immediately when you realized who it was. Crap. It’s Ellie Williams.

“Hey, uh, you seem like you shouldn’t be running back to your house with burning hot coffee. Why don’t you come over here for a bit and drink it?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that the coffee had gotten all over me. Please excuse my appearance,” you reply embarrassedly, “I’m fine though, thank you for the offer.”

“Then I’ll go with you to your house then.”

“Okay, didn’t realize you’re into stalking.”

“I’m into a lot more than just stalking”

Your cheeks burn like hot coals. “I suppose I can drink some coffee with you.”

“Alright then. Should we go back to your house?”

“No, no, we can drink some coffee at that table over there.”

“Are you hiding something?” You look her in the eyes. You sense a twinge of skeptical energy coming from her, which, per the rumors you heard, was never a good sign.

“No! My house just isn’t clean right now.”

With that, you and Ellie sit down and you drink your coffee.

“Do you want me to get you some?”

“Oh fuck no, I’ve always hated coffee.”

#wlw #lesbian #fanfic #fluff #pride #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #angst #sailor song #gigi perez

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lazypanartist · 2 months ago

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Having some more Stobotnik + child thoughts. Thanks, fandom!!

Also how should I tag this stuff? X child reader feels a bit wrong, but is technically correct? I've seen x platonic. Idk. Currently tagging with x child reader & simply "Stobotnik child", so follow that for more thoughts ig. Anyways.

Robotnik *can* cook, but he's a busy man. And Stone likes having you in the kitchen as a helper + taste tester.

Very experimental; even tho Ivo's very particular, he wants you to have a broad pallet.

Sometimes, Robotnik bakes. Pastries, even, because it's about precision. And he likes showing off. Also likes having you taste test, even if it's just for his ego. (And maybe he likes knowing he can make you happy idk)

Stone would 100% be a house husband if he wasn't contracted as a personal assistant. Man is 100% DEVOTED to Robotnik, and you by proxy. He doesn't mind cleaning, cooking, taking care of y'all, as long as he can stay close.

Meanwhile, Robotnik would be a house husband just so he could stay in the garage and invent. IF he wasn't already so devoted to fieldwork.

Neither is great with bedtime stories, but they both try. Stone wants you to have a normal-ish childhood, and Robotnik wants what's best for you. They review anything before they buy it, so it ends up being, like

Stone - "This one looks cute! Talking animals, life lessons."

Robotnik, flipping through it - "Childhood language development comes from hearing a wide, complex vocabulary. This is.. quite lacking."

Stone - "It says 'for beginner readers."

Robotnik - "Fine. We'll need something more complex just to read to them."

They can spend legit HOURS looking for something they both approve of. Not because anything's inappropriate, or because they disagree.

Robotnik's taking those parenting books and mommy blogs to HEART when it comes to your education.

Stone is there to ensure everything is still fun.

All I have for now. If y'all have requests lmk!!

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baronessvonglitter · 4 months ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 9 🍒

"First Time for Everything"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,251

Summary: a continuance from Chapter 8 - pizza, movies, and.. dessert

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, adult language, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), takes place in summer 2003, fluff, idiots in love, secret relationship, underage drinking (reader drinks a beer), horny!Joel, bit of an innocence kink, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), reader has some experience w/oral), open conversation about sex & experience, daddy kink, use of nicknames (daddy, babygirl, cumslut), come eating, softDom!Joel, reader's race not mentioned but described as tomboyish, reader has hair long enough for Joel to grab, no use of y/n (if I missed any tags lemme know!)

Author's Note: more smut. but, like, romantic smut. I know there's been a few mentions of underage drinking, I'm just going by my own experiences at that age. If you want to drink, wait until you're 21!

Series Masterlist

It's late when the rain stops and even then you and Joel are oblivious to it, lost in each other, sweaty, satiated though all you've done is touch and kiss. You could do more, but the park is closing and so you clean up as best you can and get dressed to head back to your car.

On the drive back, you hold hands. Your skin is warm, your heart is singing. You're in love for the first time in your life. No longer shy, you can't help admiring Joel, watching him as he drives, your body humming pleasantly each time he looks at you and gives you that damn smirk. You love him and he loves you. It's too wondrous a possibility to wrap your mind around.

Your car is the only one in the Starbucks parking lot. "You oughta start parkin' underneath the light poles, you'll be safer that way," Joel tells you, his finger stroking your bare thigh.

"But I like parking near the front," you tell him, even as you delight in this little intimate gesture of his.

"Don't be stubborn." His voice holds a hint of authority. You playfully grumble and kiss his cheek. He walks you to your car, holding your hand, ever your knight in t-shirt and jeans. "Is that a Toyota Tercel? You know they stopped makin' these five years ago," he teases you.

"It was my dad's," you say with more solemnity than you realize. He puts his arm around you and you lean into him where it's warm and safe. "I'm surprised no one's broken into it yet. It doesn't lock."

Joel laughs, a deep grumble that always brings a smile to your face. "Jesus, girl. You are a mess."

"Yeah, but you love me."

He kisses you softly on the mouth. "Bet your ass I do. We still on for tonight?"

"Absolutely. And thanks for the ride."

"Which one?"

You give him a confused look until you see him break into a playful grin. Laughing, you hit his arm. "I'll see you at the house in a bit. I'm sure we both need to shower after that ride."

He nods a little sheepishly. "I'll follow you home to make sure you get there safe."

And even though you only live ten minutes away from the cafe, you are moved by his protectiveness.

You and Joel have agreed to keep your feelings for each other private from Sarah, at least for now, while it's still new for both of you. You have to act normal around him and it feels unnatural because what is natural is wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his neck where you can feel his pulse beneath your kiss.

After pizza, the three of you settle down to watch a movie. You like the feeling of being with family, even if it's not necessarily your own. "What did y'all decide on?"

"I want to watch a horror movie," Sarah answers you with confidence.

"You'll get nightmares," Joel warns her. "Why don't we let our guest choose?"

"I'm a huge horror fan, so I'm sure I'll love whatever you have in mind," you tell Sarah.

"'Nightmare on Elm Street,'" she replies right away and you can see Joel rolling his eyes behind her.

You stifle a smirk. "A classic. Let's get started."

On the sofa, you and Sarah sit on either side of Joel. Sarah leans her head on her dad's shoulder and you take hold of his hand, hiding it between your laps. With the lights down and the movie playing on the TV you have the urge to cuddle up with him, hoping for a moment soon when you can do exactly that.

A particularly scary jump scene startles you and you hide your face in Joel's shoulder before you even realize what you're doing. "Sorry," you whisper, straightening up. Joel give you a soft smile and Sarah giggles at you from the other side of him. Every now and then she takes a glimpse at you and at Joel, unbeknownst to you.

"Well, I'm not going to sleep anytime soon," you announce when the credits start rolling. "Wanna take a stretch and then watch another?"

Sarah's half-asleep on Joel's shoulder. "I'm ready for a break, Dad.." she mumbles.

You smile. "I can't blame her. We did get a late start on the evening. You think maybe we should call it a night?" But the truth is you're not ready to go home.

Joel laughs. "I swear, this girl loves to try to keep me awake till 2 in the mornin' watchin' movies most of the time. I think I better get her to bed."

You smile. "Of course. I'll be here." With a pang of jealousy you watch as Joel carries Sarah upstairs to her room. When was the last time your father did that for you? You open a couple bottles of beer and hand one to Joel when he comes back downstairs. "You're so good to her.. you're a good dad."

He sits back on the couch with you, taking a swig of beer. "Yeah.. I try my best for her. She's my whole world and I would do anything for her."

"That's how it should be. I wish my own dad had stuck around." You rest your head on Joel's shoulder, which you wish you'd done earlier.

He frowns. "I'm sorry your dad didn't stick around. But I'm here, sweetheart, and I'm not goin' anywhere."

You return his gaze, absorbing the significance of his words. "I know," you tell him, and lean in to kiss him. He holds you close and you taste the beer on his tongue as he explores your mouth. His fingers run through your hair and you moan as quietly as possible, wrapping your arms around him.

Softly breaking the kiss you ask, "What do you think? Should we start another movie?"

He smirks and sets you on his lap crosswise. "Not if it means I have to keep my hands off ya. Let's just.. get comfortable."

"Mm. How comfortable?" You nuzzle his neck, taking in his scent, wanting to extend this pure moment for as long as you can.

He answers you with a kiss, sweeping your hair away from your face before his hand drops down to trace across the top of your breast. You bring his hand beneath your top. "No bra? You naughty thing," he murmurs against your lips.

"You should see what else I'm missing.."

He practically salivates as he delicately reaches past the waistband of your bottoms. "No panties either." His voice is guttural, utterly primal. "Girl, what are you doin' to me?"

You press his hand further down and watch the change of expression on his face: his eyes close and his jaw tightens. The next moment he's tugging off your bottoms for better access to you.

"Wait!" you whisper, halting his progress. "Not with Sarah in the house!"

"She's a deep sleeper," he says quickly, eager to continue, licking his lips.

"Joel" you scold.

"Third step from the top has a creak. We'll hear her if she comes down."

"I mean it!" you insist. "Let's go to my place. It's empty tonight."

The speed with which you both race next door is impressive. In your room, the lights dim, Joel asks you, "Are we doin' this?"

You hesitate. In truth you were just going on pure impulse. "I just want to explore you. And I want you to explore me."

Your admission makes him growl. "Little girl, you have no idea how much I want that. I've been thinkin' about our moment in the truck all night. I barely paid attention to the movie. I was wonderin' what else you would allow me to do to you."

"Joel," you moan, and pull him on top of you on your bed. "I want your hands on me. I want you to make me come again."

It's all he can do to not rip your clothes right off you. He forces himself to go slow, starting with your shirt, pulling it off to reveal those breasts he loves to lavish attention on. He palms each one in his large hands, nibbling and swirling his tongue around your nipples, sending ripples of pleasure straight to your cunt. You're already wet for him, which he discovers when he pulls down your bottoms, revealing yourself to him once more. "Such a pretty little virgin pussy, and it's all for me," he rumbles.

There's something intimidating about being laid bare this way. The hungry look in his eyes is reminiscent of a lion stalking its prey. It's the gentle touch of his fingers at your entrance that snap you out of your apprehension. Crazy to think this man would ever hurt you. One finger presses in, testing your resistance. You give a sharp intake of breath and close your eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You nod. "More."

He grins. "Patience." He strokes that one finger inside you, exploring. You make a little sighing sound and the look on Joel's face is obvious that he's trying like hell to hold back.

Slowly he inserts another finger. It's slightly uncomfortable but you're growing more wet with each pump of his hand. He swipes the pad of his thumb across your clit and you clench around his digits, eliciting a small gasp and praise from Joel. "Atta girl. Just like that. No need to rush. Oh you're so fuckin' tight.." He dips down to kiss you, his tongue invading your mouth once more as he fingers you. "Do you want to try three?" he rasps into your ear, lightly kissing your neck.

"Yes," you say as your heart jumps and once again you clench around his fingers. You feel that third digit stretching you out. He pumps his hand slowly, treating you with the utmost care. "See? You can take it. And soon you'll be able to take all of me." He presses a kiss to your neck, your collarbone, your chest, both breasts, and down to your stomach. Anticipation surges in your veins. You've had so little experience and Joel keeps surprising you. Each kiss upon your skin is like a lick of fire.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs as his lips move lower. You timidly part your legs and he raises your knees. "You're glistening like ripe fuckin' fruit, baby. And I wanna taste ya." He takes your impatient moan as a green light and dips his head to your cunt using his broad tongue to lick a slow stripe upwards, smiling when your legs shake. His tongue laps across your folds, teasing each little crevice before finally delving inside you. Your fingers find their way through his hair, your senses consumed with desire. "Joel.. yes!" And all other thoughts vacate your brain. Joel gives a muffled groan that vibrates against your cunt. "Oh, sweetheart, you taste so good."

You pick up your head, resting back on your elbows, and your eyes lock with his for a few sweet, burning moments. "Damn, Joel.." This image is going to be something you'll think about years from now, the sight of Joel Miller feasting on your pussy like it's his last fucking meal. His arms are wrapped around your thighs, his biceps protruding as he keeps you where he wants you. His tongue makes small circles against your clit. You whimper something completely unintelligible, grabbing his hair as you lift your hips to give him access to every part of you. Your back arches and you give a deep groan, followed by several staccato, high-pitched gasps. "Joel.. I'm gonna come!" Your nails dig into his shoulders.

"Yes, babygirl, come for me," he growls and suctions his lips around your clit. You cry out as your orgasm uncoils in the pit of your stomach. It grows and grows, radiating outward to your limbs and claims you as you give a long low moan and you press yourself to his eager mouth.

"Jesus, baby, you're makin' a mess on me," he chuckles, and you feel him lick up every last drop. "You're so fuckin' delicious. I want more."

Your mind is a sweet blank nothingness, your body completely satisfied. "I've never ever felt like that before," you whisper, meeting his gaze again. The lovingly playful look in his eyes is like an arrow to your heart. "More? I think if I have any more I'll have a heart attack." But his tongue is back, carefully avoiding your sensitive clit, lapping at each fold and planting kisses on your inner thighs until you beg for release again. Then he's sucking your clit with three fingers inside you, less gentle this time. Joel wrenches another, stronger, sweeter release from you and it's a good thing you're alone because you've never been so loud in your life.

"Damn, babygirl.. I could do this all night.."

You lose track of how long he eats you out and how many times you come, but eventually you need a respite from the onslaught of pleasure he gives you. Trying to catch your breath, Joel rests his head on your belly as you stroke his hair. The glow of the fairy lights on your headboard adds to the dreaminess of your post-orgasm tranquility. "I think I love you even more now," you whisper, and excitement builds up when he moves over you to kiss you. You taste yourself on his mouth, sharing your essence. And you can feel him through his jeans, hard against your thigh. You've been the only one receiving pleasure and you find that unfair. "I want to go down on you," you tell him.

His brows raise and you feel him grow even harder at your thigh. "Really?" He's holding back his excitement. "Only if you want to."

"I do. I like it.. that's as far as I ever went with my ex, Trevor. He wouldn't do me but I'd do him. I'm confident in my ability," you give a saucy grin.

He doesn't even blink when you mention your ex. "What an idiot to pass up on this sweet little pussy," he rumbles. His hand wanders down to the V of your legs and you smirk and remove his hand.

"I said, it's your turn. I want to make you come, and this will suffice until I'm ready for the real thing." You move onto your side, comfortable now with your nakedness because from his eyes you see you have him in thrall. "You're wearing too many clothes."

You laugh when you see just how quickly he sheds his shirt and jeans, as eager as a boy your own age. His erection juts out, tenting his boxers. Biting your lip you pull down the waistband. You commit this moment to memory, as if seeing it in slow motion. You watch in awe as his cock springs to life. "Oh my god," you whisper.

Joel smiles at your reaction. His arms are crossed behind his head. "Let me guess: I'm givin' you more to work with than he ever did?" You wordlessly nod and he puts a hand on your thigh. "Do you want it, babygirl?"

Thick. Long. Your brain can only construct basic descriptions. The base of his cock springs up from a neat nest of short, curly brown hair. A vein bulges out alongside the top, and you follow with your eyes then your hands the slight curve towards the end, the way the top half is almost a rosy pink color, and the large head that is already moist with precum. You swipe your thumb over the top and Joel hisses in pleasure. It's heavy in your hand. You give his cock a few trial pumps, feeling him flex beneath your touch. Fuck, I'm lucky. Mouth watering, you dip your head to taste him. You swirl your tongue around his very sensitive head, holding the base with your hand. Joel gives another intake of breath and you smile. Relaxing your throat you breathe through your nose as you take in the first few inches in your mouth, using your hand on his base to stroke. There's no way you'd be able to take the entirety of him down your throat, but you love the thought of trying. You bring as much of him as you can until you begin to gag, then stroke him with your saliva. As Joel watches you you can see the darkness of his gaze, the expression changing from one of powerfulness to longing to submission. And it's because of you. "I love the way you look, all laid out comfortable for me.. it's so hot." He groans again and gathers your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, gently guiding you up and down as you suck.

Your hair is tousled, eyes shining bright, lips swollen and wet. "I think you're so close, Joel.. let me help you."

"You look so fuckin' beautiful like that. Just tell me where you want it, babygirl. I might not last much longer."

You pause only a moment, wondering what he means. In the past, your ex would typically finish in a Kleenex, so you've never had a guy come in your mouth before. But where else would it go?

"Come wherever you want, daddy.." you tell him.

He stops you mid-suck. His eyes have a look you've never seen before. "What.. what did you call me?"

You realize it too late. "Daddy," you say, caught up in the moment. "Where does daddy want his babygirl to have his cum?"

It's as if you've released the Devil himself. "Down your fuckin' throat. I want to watch my babygirl swallow every drop like a good little cumslut."

You've never talked dirty to someone before, but this first time has you worked up like never before. "Cum in my mouth, daddy, give me my little reward.."

With a groan Joel tenses up, hips bucking up to thrust into your mouth. You feel his cock begin to swell and then it twitches as several jets of his warm jizz hit the back of your throat and tongue. It's thick and salty, but not unpleasant. The hottest thing about it is the way he looks at you as you take in every last drop.

You're laying side by side, breathing hard, both riding a euphoric high. The intensity of your intimacy has brought you closer together, and if you're honest, your love for him has deepened.

"You were amazing, sweetheart.. guess I didn't mean to sound so harsh to you in those last few moments. I apologize," he says.

"Not at all.. I thought it was pretty hot. It made everything more intense between us. I kinda felt like.. I don't know, like a porn star or something."

"Careful, you're gonna get me going again," he warned in a semi-playful manner. "That might've been the best I ever had." He scoffs and rubs his hands over his eyes. "Did I just say that out loud?"

"You did," you snuggle against him, your nakedness against his. "Isn't that a cliche? Don't you tell that to all your women?" you tease him.

"It's never been like this with anyone else," he says, looking into your eyes and kissing your forehead.

You touch his cheek. The roughness of his beard tickles your hand and you're pink between your thighs where his beard scratched you just moments ago. "I guess there's a first time for everything.."

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dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

#pedro pascal #joel miller #ao3 fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller au #joel miller age gap #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro boys #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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svndaysaweek · 2 years ago

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Aftermath — {Feat. Kazuha}

1.8k words

A/N: After math is science. Hope y'all like this one too,, Also thanks to everyone for 200 followers and big big support on e^(iπ)+1=0!! I hope I've improved a little. Inclined words are scientific terms so google it if look unfamiliar!!(Certainly will help you understand this)

Tag: Science (?), Loving sex, creampie

******

The ride's finally over. Even before you turn the car off she eagerly hops off. Kazuha opens the door for you.

"Zuha–Owff!"

Now she hops on your arms.

You are suddenly burdened with her body, but not the weight. As if she is violating the law of universal gravitation. Although you weigh her much more than the Earth you two are stepping on—in fact Kazuha isn't—this time Earth just lets her go.

"Carry me inside,"

That famous position—arms around your neck, both legs on your arms, face right in front of yours—and that cliché progress, which is to carry the girl inside and then make love. You follow just that, but with a kiss it's clicheic no more.

You were wrong then, to allege that Kazuha violates the law of universal gravity. You are now pulled into an absorbing kiss, like the light and a black hole, like an apple and the Earth. A kiss that does nothing less than force your eyes shut.

Almost blindly you open the main door to enter her house.

"Which one?"

You detach from the kiss and gaspingly ask her.

"First,"

Inertia—Newton's first law. There's no turning back from here. Even if there's extrinsic force it's from Kazuha, and it only adds positive acceleration to you.

You open the first door you see as told, carry Kazuha to the bed and toss her onto it. Accelerated, you hastily take your shirt off. Kazuha successfully gets rid of your pants and boxers while you take your bare torso out.

A supernova itself—a breathtaking explosion to leave the core only. Kazuha takes her own clothes off, to leave the cruelty of her body only. As she brings her hands behind her back to unclasp her bra, you stop it.

"Let me,"

Chest unlocked.

Without anything to hinder the observation, you now get an immaculate visual on the pulsar. Heat beaming in tandem with her heartbeat is the clue notifying you of her anticipation.

Then the formation of a black hole—your hands are driven wildly toward those breasts. This close to her beautiful mounds, time doesn't make sense. You touch eternity, immortality, permanency, to tip yourself over the event horizon, into oblivion.

Her hot breath steams your face up, and you feel the ultimate need to devour her tits. The inclination to Kazuha's breasts is far above scientific explanation.

It's a lunar globe, you would say, faced with how her spit-glistening tits reflect the dim moonlight. Not so big, not too small. One in your mouth, another grabbed firmly by your hand. You thoroughly clean them both by dirtying them with your saliva, which is flooding with your instinctive intention full of filth.

"Baby, I need you down here."

Kazuha takes your hand softly down to her hot crotch. Her both pairs of lips have their energy right on you. You kneel on the floor to find her gushing core. Kazuha eyes you approval with her lower lip tucked in by her teeth.

Newton's third law—action and reaction. Your tongue presses on her third nub to draw such a raw response. An agonizingly addictive taste blesses your nerves, as Kazuha makes a wild reaction to the electric action you take. She pulls you in and she is definitely being pulled in, too.

Even the slightest actions of your tongue make her reactions go crazy. Her squirming even almost feels like struggle not to reach the wanted high—or the opposite.

"Fuck, baby just like that…It's so good,"

Like the Moon orbiting around the Earth. Like the Earth rotating around the Sun. Your tongue draws an imperfect circle around the very centre of her system. Not too far, not too close—you've found the Goldilocks Zone on her clit.

And as you remember, Goldilocks Zone is where liquid water can exist–

"Haa, I-I'm cumming…!"

Kazuha herself proves it, as she proudly waters your face with her cum. Ironically it tastes fatal. You lap up the remnant of her godly liquid, readying to truly fuck her.

You detach your mouth from her pussy and raise your hand to wipe your mouth but, no.

"Give me a taste,"

She holds your arm from going further and calls you in for a kiss, a wet one. Kazuha needily licks over your mouth with a long, low, satisfied moan, which turns you on too much to let her continue.

So you challenge her.

"Mmm…"

During the kiss you bring your dick to her waiting pussy and rub it on her entrance, collecting the wetness needed. Kazuha's arms slowly lock behind your neck, simultaneously with her legs around your hips.

She bites your lower lip, pleading you to push inside her.

"Mmm–!"

As you smoothly push in your cock, her animalistic response hits back.

Kazuha's entire body is becoming an undeniable proof that Earth is round: Her tongue curls inside your mouth, around yours. Her back arcs upward to form a sexy curve you can't unsee. Just like what Magellan did, you could wrap your arms around her body.

There's only space for you to fill up, but you are pulling back—same reason why Mars retrograde occurs, how heliocentrism was invented. Nothing in the universe works straight, not even light. Things curl, get absorbed, go back, and those are the most basic, the most natural things to happen, even when written rules carry straightness only.

(Besides, to such a perfection of a body, who wouldn't dare to break the rules?)

You gradually up the pace of your pistoning, in the second time of asking—Newton's second law: F=ma. With your accelerated, massive cock making love inside Kazuha, she is forced to cum.

And you've experienced it so, so many times. Tachyon flies slower than you, as you travel back to every night you shared with Kazuha. You are fucking her until time runs backwards, not giving even the slightest bit of fuck to the theory of relativity—actually, you are giving all the fuck to Kazuha right now.

Oh, Be A Fine Girl, Kiss Me. Kazuha's lips always remind you of this phrase. You can't just let them stay idle. She already came once so the main sequence starts now. Like protons undergoing nuclear fission, you two in bed are tangled, synthesized, fused into one—into a totally new individual.

"Come on, baby. You need to cum, too."

Your body that once was over Kazuha's is now reversed and under hers, but again, you feel no weight at all. Like she is the light itself.

With almost no mass, she feels light—maybe that's why it was named that. That however, is not the only reason you compare Kazuha to the light.

The horny side of Kazuha, sexy, hot, wet and curvy. That's a wave. The lovely side of Kazuha, on the other hand, cozy, comfy, cheerful and straight. That's a particle, a photon. The duality you love, you adore. Whenever you notice the deviant changes in her eyes in bed it enlightens you, makes you wonder what her real nature is—that's what even Einstein wouldn't be able to discover, of course.

"God, Zuha… You–"

You bring your hands to her ass to start your thrusts, but then Kazuha stops you by pressing your arms down on the bed.

"Let me."

Hypnotized, you let your arms down in compliance with her direction. She then puts her hands on your heaving chest, readying herself to start riding you.

"I can feel your heart,"

You too. Your head is thumping loudly at your heartbeat, as if your brains are now working as another blood pump. And Kazuha raises its rate so easily.

"How does it feel?"

You ask, putting your hands softly on hers, on your chest.

"I don't know,"

The last thing you see is Kazuha's divine smile, before your eyes are forced shut by her sudden tightness descending to the base of your cock.

You feel her fingers dig into your chest as she gradually accelerates the speed of her ride.

"You, maybe."

You smile and look at her. What a cheesy girl, you think to yourself. And at the same time the lust-filled look on her face is so cute—opposed to what's going on down there.

"Baby…"

Kazuha breathes out her word then halts.

"Go ahead,"

You give her the knowing smile.

"I love you."

Yes. Love. Love is the only correct word to be spoken right now.

Because, as always, you feel how wonderful, how powerful it is. Within just a night you've witnessed so many examples of how easily love ignores laws of physics like they're nothing.

After saying that she never loses eye contact with you as she almost hazardously rides you out. Her tightness is fatal, fatal enough to vitalize your throbbing dick inside.

"I'm close, Zuha… Keep going,"

She knows you are. You try to sit up to kiss her but her arms sternly deny it.

Let me make you cum, her eyes tell you.

You can just stay there, let me serve you, her lips whisper.

Let me pay your love back, Kazuha's love speaks for itself.

You can even hear it, as your ears go numb. You see the ecstasy itself, as your eyes slam shut. You breathe loving words out, as you stop breathing.

"Zuha, I'm cumming…!"

You grab on her ass and begin to pour your seed into her.

"Go on, baby. You deserve it."

Kazuha doesn't stop grinding on you for a little more until you ease down completely. She then climbs down and lies beside you.

That is when you again admire her presence. Her black hair, dark enough to absorb any light except herself. Her blushed face and even redder lips perfecting the angelic façade of hers. Her perky breasts heaving up and down to indicate the intensity of the love between you two. Her toned, tight abs, wet crotch and both silky legs that are on yours.

How did I even end up next to this girl?

She deserves much more love than I can possibly give her.

"Zuha, I–"

Lack of strength out of the aftermath haze blocks you.

"Go ahead,"

This time she throws a knowing smile back to you.

You can only laugh at this moment. Kazuha being such a perfect partner, you can't help but say–

"I love you, Zuha."

Beside her is the best place on the planet, you could proudly announce.

You look at her in awe, and she turns her head to you with a grin.

"What, wanna go for another round?"

#kpop male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop smut #kazuha smut #le sserafim smut

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watermelonlovershigh · 1 year ago

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Can you write something where Reader had taken care of Harry all night because he was sick and then she has to wake up to care for their child and maybe the child wants to give Harry cuddles to make him feel better.

Sick Daddy /concept/

AN: had this in my inbox for a while but am trying to clear some of my requests out so here you finally go. its very short because this ask just felt like it didn't need to be crazy long. hope you enjoy still. send you feedback. xoxo

This story contains: mentions of throw up, the rest is fluff

{ husbandrry - dad!harry - any harry era }

word count- 566

You and your son Oliver make Harry a breakfast to hopefully feel better because he'd been sick the previous night. Then after Harry's better, you and Ollie catch the same bug and Harry takes care of you both as you did for him.

You'd been up off and on with Harry all night. He seemed to have caught some type of stomach bug and nearly every hour of the night woke up to be sick. Though Harry insisted you just stay in bed, of course you were gonna be right by his side. Placing a little clip in his hair to hold his bangs out of his face and rub his back as he heaved over the toilet.

Now it's eight in the morning and your little one, Oliver, who's five, is awake. Though you're dead tired from you lack of sleep, you go into Ollies bedroom and help him get dressed and brush his teeth. Once that's all done, Oliver asks, "Where's daddy? Wanna go see him."

Kneeling down to his level, you reply, "Daddy's feeling a bit ill today, loves. He'll probably be in bed for a while. But, how about you help mummy make daddy some tea and toast to hopefully feel better."

With a concerned look on his small face, Oliver nods, "Alright, mummy. Then can I cuddle daddy? Daddy cuddles me when I don't feel very well so it might make him feel better."

Thinking for a moment, you answer, "Maybe. We'll have to see. I don't want you catching whatever bug he has though."

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

Oliver helped you prepare an easy breakfast for Harry. One that will hopefully not bother his stomach. Once it's ready, you carry it on a tray and Ollie walks up the stairs beside you, excited to finally see his daddy today.

When you walk in the bedroom, Harry is curled up under the covers sleeping, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin. You set the tray down and nudge his shoulder, "Harry babe, wake up for me. Got you something to drink and eat that you'll hopefully be able to keep down."

Harry slowly turns over and sits up. With his very messy bed-head, he croaks out, "Awe, thank you, m'love. I'll try to eat some of it. Not really that hungry though."

Oliver steps to the side of the bed and asks, "Daddy sick?"

Harry looks down and answers, "Yeah baby, daddy's tummy hasn't been well. But mummy is the best doctor around so I'm sure I'll be good to go in no time."

Harry sat in bed and munched on his plain toast and sipped his tea while you and Oliver sat at the foot of the bed to keep him company. After some persuasion, you finally let Oliver cuddle Harry. You knew it was a risk of him getting sick too but you were also at risk from just being in the same house as him.

Luckily Harry was able to keep that food down and with some more rest, got to feeling better within twelve hours. Unluckily to you and Ollie though, two days later you both woke up to sick tummies and it was Harry's turn to play doctor. With the amount of vomit he had to clean up he should become a professional cleaner.

It got so bad that he had to migrate everyone to the living room where he could watch you both at the same time. One moment holding up the barf bucket for Oliver and the next moment holding it up for you. He gave y'all tons of cuddles and extra love and within a day everyone was well again.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

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#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles concept #harry styles short story #harry x reader #dadrry #dad!harry #husbandrry #husband!harry #softrry #soft!harry #harry styles sick fic #sick fic #harry styles fluff #requested

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anincompletelist · 10 months ago

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[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | fic rec fridays ]

hi all! :D I have slowly but steadily been knocking things off of my tbr list, a few classics and a few newer fics, and they've been AMAZING! as per usual I wanted to share before the list gets too long for next time!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

happy new year and happy reading y'all! <3

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? | @hgejfmw-hgejhsf | T+ | 5k

When the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party is interrupted by a security threat, Henry, Pez, Nora, June, and Alex find themselves locked in the White House library for their own protection with nothing but time, a few bottles of champagne, and some lighthearted conversation, until a single question threatens to change everything for Henry.

(+ read their first au fic here ahh!)

muscle memory | @dumbpeachjuice | E | 30k

It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen. But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 12k

That should be it. Henry is doing his job; the pool is getting cleaned, and Alex shouldn’t think anything more of it. Then why does he feel the slightest bit of disappointment when he walks back to the pool house and Henry isn’t there? Or, the pool boy Henry AU that I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it.

if evil, why so cute? | @everwitch-magiks | E | 5k

Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat. Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Just like that | @myheartalivewrites | E | 10k

When Henry comes home from a date frustrated by the guy’s lack of expertise, Alex starts having thoughts. And then, because he’s Alex, he sticks his big foot in his even bigger mouth.

(@myheartalivewrites listen I fell down a rabbit hole ok and if I could rec your entire ao3 here I would -- OH WAIT I CAN)

In His Wildest Dreams | @myheartalivewrites | E | 11k

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process

Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come | @sparklepocalypse | E | 30k

"For Christmas this year, all I would like is a best friend who doesn’t mind too much that I’m a prince. Most of my classmates poke fun because of who I am, or treat me like I’m too special to be their friend. I want a best friend who knows me as much as my family does and still likes me. I know that you can’t wrap a best friend up in a box and put it under the tree, but you’re magic so you know the best way to bring one." (Movieverse canon divergence; Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one.)

A Picture on Your Corkboard | bleedingballroomfloor | M | 23k

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

I want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) | @violetbaudelaire-quagmire | M | 10k

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox [OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!]

(Dil)Do It Yourself | @happiness-of-the-pursuit | E | 16k

“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

just a figure of speech | @congee4lunch | E | 17k

“Like I said: Alphas really don’t know how to fuck.” “And like I said,” Alex sets down his mug and steps closer to Henry. “I can fuck and I know how to fuck you so well, you’ll see stars, baby.” [henry, an omega, hasn’t had good sex in a long time. as his alpha roommate and friend, alex can help with that. in a totally platonic bro way, of course]

saving some for next rec, I'll see you all then! enjoy, and remember to show support if you did! <3

#my fic recs #fic recs #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #Alex x henry #RWRB fic #red white and royal blue fanfic #firstprince fic

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i-arch-my-backula · 2 years ago

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What slashers do on their s/o's birthday

So today is my birthday. I'm officially 17 and I wanted to celebrate with a fic for myself and any other April babies. I hope y'all enjoy this.

Includes: Carrie White, Michael Myers, Leslie Vernon, Candyman, Norman Bates and Jesse Cromeans

Warnings: Implied stalking in Leslie's part

Carrie White

She's going to bake you whatever cake you want her to make. She's going to go all out for you on your birthday. Like she's putting effort into making this for you.

A gift from her is going to be a special birthday outfit that she made. She had you pick out the pattern and the fabric beforehand and gives it to you to wear on your birthday.

Also probably makes you a card. That or she writes a very heart felt note in a card she bought in her cursive hand writing.

She's also cooking you your favorite dinner. Whatever it is you want she'll make it for you. She's never had a special birthday that she got to celebrate so she wants to make it special for you.

I also feel like she'd be more open to physical affection on your birthday. She's a more reserved person so her holding you hand or giving you a kiss on the cheek is a big deal to her, but she's doing it because you mean so much to her.

Michael Myers

Might not remember that it's your birthday. He's a kind of busy guy who's already doing a lot by not killing you and being your boyfriend so he doesn't think it's a big deal if he forgets.

He in general doesn't understand why people celebrate birthdays. He thinks it's a little dumb but he's not going to say that, or really anything, to you.

When you remind him, he goes out and steals a gift for you. Something he's heard you mention before. Most likely from someones house. But if he's feeling like it he might steal it from a store.

If you're really close to him he'll put a tag with his name on it. It's going to be horrible hand writing that you could barely read but him writing "from Michael" is something really special.

If you have a cake on your birthday he'll happily eat some with you. Depending on how close you are, he might lift up his mask and eat it in the same room as you but it really depends on how long he's known you.

Leslie Vernon

He's been planning this since he first laid his eyes on you. At first you were going to be a victim but he ended up catching feelings for you and now you're dating. But that hasn't stopped him from learning everything about you.

He's going to be a bit of an asshole and act like he doesn't know that it's your birthday. He's going to act like it's a normal day and ask you to go out and get something so he can set up a surprise for you.

That surprise being something that you've wanted for a very long time. Whatever it is he finds a way to get it for you and sets it up while you're out of the house.

Also buys you a cake. He tried to make one himself but he was so bad at it that he had to throw it away and clean up half the kitchen.

He also does try to scare you a little bit. He just likes scaring people and you're one of them. He's sorry about it afterwards if you didn't like it but he thought it would be funny.

Candy man

He doesn't know his birthday, even if he did when he was alive he'd probably forget it by now. But he always remembers your birthday, for as long as you're with him he'll remember it.

I feel like he didn't know how to write when he was alive but in the afterlife he learned how to, meaning he's going to write you a lengthy love poem. He's going to be detailing everything he loves about you in this poem and more.

He's also getting you flowers, partly because of his bees, partly because he's a classic romantic. He's not getting you just any flowers either. He's stealing you your favorite flowers.

He's also taking you out on a date. A non-traditional one because, well he's an undead man who has supernatural powers. But it's still nice. Probably a walk around at night somewhere romantic.

I feel like he doesn't eat food because he doesn't need to but if you have cake for your birthday he's happy to sit with you and enjoy it together.

Norman Bates

He has your birthday marked on his calendar the moment he realizes that he loves you. He double checks before writing it down on his calendar and having a countdown.

He's going to make you breakfast in bed. Whatever your favorite breakfast foods are he's going to make them for you and serve you in bed, but he's going to stress not to get crumbs on the bed.

Like Leslie he's getting you a special gift that you've been talking a lot about. Anything that you really want he's going to get for you one way or another.

He's probably going to buy you a cake. He might make one and if he does it turns out pretty good because it was his mothers recipe. But he might get too anxious to actually do that so he's going to most likely buy a cake for you.

Like Carrie he's going to be more physically affectionate too. He'll be pretty nervous the first time he holds your hand for an extended period of time but he ends up craving more physical affection.

Jesse Cromeans

He's going to spoil you the entire day, no matter if you want him to or not. This man has money to burn he's not going to let you act like you don't deserve to be treated.

He either buys you gifts you've wanted or just gives you a ton of money to go shopping with him. He'll probably find some subtle way to ask you before your birthday and plan according to that.

He also takes you out to whatever fancy restaurant you want to go to. He's a rich and powerful man so he can get his assistant to get you two a table at whatever restaurant you want to go to.

If you want a cake for your birthday he gets the best bakery nearby to make you one according to your exact desires. He writes down exactly what you want and has his assistant help with getting it done.

You know how people put cash in cards for your birthday? Jesse stuffs way too much cash in your card. As if all of what he's doing today isn't enough, you're getting at least 3,000 dollars in your birthday card.

#carrie white x y/n #carrie white x reader #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #leslie vernon x reader #leslie vernon x y/n #candyman x reader #daniel robitaille x reader #norman bates x reader #norman bates x you #norman bates x y/n #jesse cromeans x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader

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pedroshotwifey · 8 months ago

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To The Flame chapter 6.5

Takes place between chapter six and seven

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter word count: 650

Chapter tags/warnings: not much, fluff, Javier being a gorgeous SOB, mentions of sex, kissing, sexually suggestive content

A/N: Hey, sorry I'm backtracking, but I had to get this out of my head 😅 Perhaps our reader’s description sounds familiar? 👀 Hope y'all like it!

****

“I’m sorry it’s not much.”

You’re laying on the couch, both of you cooling off though you’re still tangled together, when Javi breaks the silence. You look up at him from where you have your head propped on your overlapped hands on his chest, confused about what he’s talking about.

“What do you mean?”

He meets your eyes and you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks right now. The orang-y afternoon sunlight peaks in through the window, illuminating his tan skin, still tacky with sweat. His hair is damp and ruffled after your love-making, making it appear darker than it is. His swollen lips pull up into a sly smirk when he notices you admiring him.

“The house, I wish I could have more for you,” he clarifies. Frankly, you’re taken aback from why he would think such a thing.

“No, Javi, it’s perfect; I love it. Why would you say that?”

He takes a deep breath, jostling you slightly with the movement.

“I don’t know, I just know it’s pretty outdated. You deserve the best and I want to be able to provide that for you.”

You beam at him, leaning up to kiss him gently.

“Javi, you’ve already done so much. Besides, I really do like the house.”

He smiles fondly at you, and then furrows his brows as if in thought. “What does your dream house look like?”

Now you furrow your brows. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.” You stop for a moment, trying to create an image in your head. “I suppose I’d like to have a farmhouse. A white one with a nice porch and lots of land.”

Javi plays idly with your hair as he listens intently, prompting you to continue.

“I think I’d like a few big trees outside, that way we could have shade when it’s really sunny out. And a tin roof; I love the sound of rain on a tin roof. It would be nice to fall asleep to.”

Javi huffs a laugh out of his nose, watching you like you’re something precious. You blush but continue on.

“I’d like to have nice hardwood floors, no carpet except for maybe in the bedrooms. Oh, and a big kitchen, that way I’d have lots of room for cooking. Counterspace is always a must-have.”

He shakes his head at your technicalities.

‘What?” you laugh. “I don’t like to clean as I go, so I take up every inch every time I cook.”

“And what do you like to cook?”

You hum to yourself, thinking through your options. You know how to make a lot of dishes, so you narrow it down to your favorites.

“I really like pastas. Eating it and making it. And soups.” Your mouth waters just thinking about it, and you don’t realize you’d unfocused your gaze from Javi until you hear him chuckle lightly. You smile and turn your attention back at him.

“What’s your favorite dish?” You ask. Maybe I can make it for you.”

You lay your head back down on your hands as you wait for his answer.

“I’m actually a sucker for some good chicken enchiladas,” he says, slightly bashful at his basic answer. “My dad used to make some of the best.”

You grin at him.

“I can do that. Though probably not as good as your dad.”

He laughs at that.

“Yeah, probably not. I don’t think anyone could top his if I’m being honest. Though I have a feeling you’d be a close contender.”

“Alright, you get me the ingredients and I’ll see what I can do. Sound good, Peña?”

He leans up to kiss you again. “Deal.” And then you’re being tugged beneath him, giggling as he switches your positions and lays sloppy kisses along your neck and face. You can feel his cock hard again against your thigh, and you smile, preparing yourself for another round.

****

See? Javi pays attention ;)

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #fluff #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction #ttf #to the flame #javier pena fic #dark javier pena

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year ago

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Slenderman x SlendermansionMaid!Reader || Oneshot

Plots: You’re shocked to see your boss and sometimes fuck buddy, when things are stressful in the Mansion (nothing more!! he’s still a frustrating ass!!) completely sloshed. *This one is entirely inspired by a Quotev Book I wrote years ago with the same plot- ‘Diary of a Slender Mansion Maid’.

Warnings: Drunkenness (Not that you can really tell 😅 He's just kindof a little looser then usual) and sexual references.

Tagging: @microwavemadness , @miss-understood (Hey there are sexual references but no smut. I hope its okay!! Please tell me if in the future you would like to be tagged in strictly fluff and/or angst ^^), and I hope y'all like this!

“Wh- Slender!??”

You cannot believe this. You cannot believe what you are seeing right now. It’s not that you rely on the man in any way, he’s frustrating and dickish 100 percent of the time and a royal pain in your ass- but generally he is the only other person (Being?) in this damn woods who’s on the same page as you!! That’s why you do your *stress relieving* together!- as the Head and the Maid of the mansion, you both get stressed and pissed off over the same things! It certainly isn’t because you like eachother. The master of this household is a complete asshole.

… But he’s usually a stone-cold sober asshole. One of the few few few things you appreciate about him. Usually the rest of the house is acting insane, even his brothers (Even his brothers who are actually lovely and mean well), you and Slender are the only still ones. Sure, he rarely does the heavy lifting in dealing with the messes his Pastas leave behind, that’s all you, but at least you have a still-spot to look for in the chaos.

You two usually release your own insanity on eachother, alone, away from hearing ears.

… and yet here is your oh-so-sensible leader, sitting at the kitchen table with Offender and Zalgo half slouched over (Well, more than usual. Which is not saying much by regular standards considering his spine is usually akin to an iron rod but still… it’s saying something. For sure.), a full-size bottle of jack between them and 28 empty ones on the ground around them. His and Offender’s tentacles are out and laying lazily on the ground between the bottles, Slender’s shirt is wrinkled and loosened at the collar, and his jacket is placed over the back of his chair. Its almost going to fall off and onto the ground!

Offender chuckles, seeing your face. “Oh Slender… you’re in trouble.”

“She is my maid… she does not do the getting mad. I do.” When Slender turns to you, enflaming your frustrations with his words, you just want to reach over and choke the jerk with his own tie. “Y/N. What are all these bottles doing on the ground? Clean this up.”

… oh that old bastard better be drunk off his ass, saying that to you. “Offender, Zalgo… “Your eyes, hard and angry, flicker over the other two. “Time to go.”

“Haha, oh- yes ma’am.” Offender gets up first, actually pushing out of his chair and turning on his foot as if to walk out when he could just teleport so much easier. Zalgo seems a little more together, grinning mischievously at you for a few moments (Wondering what you’re going to do to Slender), before Offender grabs his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go find some real trouble to get into. Let’s let Slender play house.”

“Oh I do love trouble. Indeed, let’s go.”

Then they’re both gone, and Slender and you are stuck in a showdown. You’re staring at his smooth face, the worst greasy you have ever mustered in your eyes, and he’s not moving an inch. He almost looks bored in his body language. Languid.

You know it’s just a tactic to piss you off more, but damn does it work. “… okay just- what in the world are you doing??” You finally ask, shoulders dropping. Honestly, you’re just surprised. Slender?? Drunk?? Slender drinking with his brother who he calls a moron on the regular and a demon he hates?

Who blackmailed him? Who held a burning rod to his asshole and forced him?

“I am fully entitled to have a drink of this… “Picking it up, he looks to be reading the label- before putting it back down faced away from him. “vile moron juice, any time that I please Y/N.” He explains, destroying the validity in his own statement with his own basic inability to keep his true views to himself. “Tastes disgusting,… makes people into monkeys,... but it has its virtues.”

Sighing, you drop down to a crouch and start collecting bottles. “… so I have permission to call you an ape?” You mutter, knowing he heard you.

“Try it.”

You flash him a look, like ‘I just did’, before getting up to your feet again and setting the bottles in your arms on the bench. While he ignores you and sits there quietly for a good few moments, thinking whatever drunk-thoughts Slender has, you manage to wonder about - careful not to step on his tentacles or trip over his impossibly long legs stretched out under the table so far they stick out the other end, - and collect the rest of the bottles; putting them all up on the bench together. Then you turn to Slender and decide that has to be your next job.

Sighing, you wipe your hands together and approach him. “… coffee or a shower first?”

“… I want to stew, some more.” He says defiantly, and you immediately roll your eyes.

“I’m making you coffee.”

A couple of hours later and Slender is no more sober then when you found him. When you were on the opposite side of the kitchen, your arms full of bottles and on your way out to throw them away, Slender pointedly poured the rest of the Jack Daniels into the brewing pot of coffee. Then while you gradually cleaned up the rest of the wrecked kitchen, he sat at the table and drank it all out of a mug that says ‘World’s Best Tallest Dad’ which Jeff got him for Christmas one year.

For that bullshit you cursed him and told him you would never make him coffee again- and he ‘pfft’ at you. Pfft.

That is not the problem now, though. Now the problem is that not only is he smashed-- but he’s energetically smashed.

And you’re the only other one home right now. So, great.

You almost pray for Offender and Zalgo to come back here.

You’re just organising the trash (Compost, recycling and dump, plus Good Will which is a you-suggestion), trying to ignore Slender’s presence entirely, still stretched out at the kitchen table across from you- watching you- when he breaks the pleasant silence and make you groan. “You know a more efficient way to do that would be to utilise the organisational bins I had Jeff steal from a- what was it? Wall-Mart? Yes. And, also- listen to me- this is very important- that shirt is not your colour.”

Instead of truly dignifying Slender’s unnecessary nit-picking, you just turn with a terrible greasy and stick him with it. “Do you know that you’re insufferable?”

“I’ve heard- but even so, I’m rarely wrong.” Looking away momentarily, Slender releases a disturbing sound that you hear very very rarely that you can only describe as his version of a chuckle. Full of joy, and static. “And better yet, you know it~… “Dear lord. How can it be possible that this man can get even more frustrating and annoying. You are never letting this man touch a bottle ever again.

Rolling your eyes though, you turn back to what you’re doing. He returns to his staring, silently criticising you most definitely. You just sigh, and finish sorting. It gets done pretty fast, considering its just you two at home. No chaos, no insane teenagers creating new messes for you making you feel like you’re trying to empty a self-filling fountain with a bucket- just Slender and his occasional energetic-drunk commentary constantly in the room with you, whatever room you move to (The bastard follows you). You then finish the vacuuming, a good portion of the laundry and even get dinner started; it becomes a very productive day and you’re happy about it!

At least, you figure, when he’s not talking, then Slender’s presence can almost be construed as companionable. Which is probably why today was a relatively peaceful one. After all at least he’s not trying to touch you like Offender, or breaking things like Jeff, or making irritating noise with a videogame like BEN, or even asking you for things like sweet Sally. So once you’re all done with your to-do list, and the stew is on the stove slow-cooking- you go ahead and put on another pot of coffee.

Slender leans over your back, and he’s so tall he doesn’t touch you at all there but you can still feel his presence and you hang your head back on your neck; eyes closed and brows furrowed in frustration, knowing just what he’s going to start on now. “… I don’t want that.”

“Well you’re going to drink it.”

“No, no I don’t think I will, nope.”

“I swear to god you giant cranky turd you will drink this coffee or you’re not getting dinner.”

“Then I have some more bad news to break to you- that man does not exist. The only god here is me, and you aren’t allowed to swear at me.”

Here you just flash him a dangerous smile over your shoulder, so heavily venomous that you don’t need to swear at him. “I don’t know how you drink without a mouth, but I am gonna chuck this burning hot coffee at you and just hope for the best~ “

For a moment, Slender just watches the coffee boiling, over the top of your head. You crane your neck once again to look at him this time, wondering what drunk-Slender-thoughts he’s thinking now. When you’re just about to give up waiting for him to say something else and further the conversation (Or argument. Potato-potahto though with the two of you) you turn around to lean back into the edge of the bench and look at him straight-on for a moment instead, because your neck was hurting. Just then, the bottom of Slender’s mouth tears away from the top before your eyes and the jagged rip curls up at one corner- like a terrifying smirk. Albeit, an awkward and unsure one.

Your eyes bug out of your skull. “You can do that!?”

“I can~ “ Even if his 'facial expression' is awkward, the confidence of a thousand years and also 29 full size bottles of tennesee whiskey, give or take, is still stuck stubbornly in his voice.

No way. You're genuinely surprised and intrigued. "This whole time??"

"Since birth- err, or creation. Our beginning is rather unclear." Mhm.

Thoughtfully, curiously, you raise up onto your tip toes in order to take a better look. It's not the weirdest thing you've seen in this house, but it's new and intriguing even so. Especially since you regularly fuck this man. "... Do you have a- hm." You stop. Maybe you shouldn't ask that, you think, pressing your lips into a firm line.

"A tongue?" Slender finishes for you, never one to let something be when he knows he can use it to make someone else feel smaller. You just sigh, and nod. Yep, that is what you were thinking. When a thick, slimy, dexterous, terrifying-looking black creature-tongue makes a short appearance out the abyss inside his mouth and licks his bottom lip very quickly, your eyes fly open wide again. "I do." He tells you matter-o'-factly; no flirty or vulgar tone in his voice, but a definite pridefulness. A smugness. A teasing intrigue, in your line of questioning.

God you're truly starting to dislike drunk Slender. He's borderline creeping you out. This isn't him.

... Even so though- "Does it hurt?" You ask, reaching up (extending your arm almost as far as it'll go, he's so tall) to ghost your fingers over the tear in his usually-smooth face. There isn't any blood or anything, its just like if you ripped a piece of paper, but- surely- that cannot be comfortable!

"Its perfectly comfortable," He responds, having been listening to your thoughts which makes you sigh. Has he been doing that this whole time?? You hate when he does that- "Its a natural function of mine. And yes- I know you hate it. That's a bonus, thank you."

Now you give his chest a wack with the back of your hand. "So you're saying could've been using that on me this whole time??"

...

-He just sighs. "Such a vulgar human."

"Says the one that insists I wear no underwear when your brothers all come over so you have easier access- "

"That's just practical, Y/N." And dangerous, considering one his brothers is Offender. "You and I both know the mansion is at its most ridiculous when they dare to visit. You benefit just as much as I do."

"... pfft."

"Pfft? Did you just 'pfft' me??"

"You fuck me before they even arrive."

"I anticipate the chaos."

You open your mouth immediately to go 'ha' at him, but no sound comes out. Because... right. He's right. He's completely correct. You two don't do this because you like each other, or out of any actual desire for each other... you do it to relieve stress. You should stop this line of conversation now, before one of you says something silly and incorrect suggesting any different. "Oh yeah." For a moment theirs a silence between you, you retracting your hand from him while you both stop to just think for a second. Because that sure was close. You could have ruined what you have! And that would be a shame- because it works. "Well-- I'm still not the only vulgar one." You shrug, slipping out from where he still hangs over you and collecting the now-brewed coffee with you.

"... right." For a split second Slender seems too caught up in own thinking that he almost lets you win- before flicking immediately back to his senses, insulting you as easily as he breathes (However it is that he does that); heading to the table with a mug for the coffee he 'didn't want', anyhow. "Uh- I mean- you're mistaken, but that's okay. You're only, pathetically human. Its to be expected."

Instead of responding, you pour the coffee for him then step back against a bench and you both sit in silence for a few more painfully awkward moments. He's just sipping and you're just wondering if you can just leave-

when a horrid crash noise sounds from the living room as well as the smell of pot wafting in as well; BEN's high chuckling following shortly after, and your eyes slip slowly to Slender at the same time that his head turns your way. Neither of you move for a second but you can feel a gentle, heated throbbing beginning to rise in your underwear, thinking about the mess that you'll inevitably have to clean up when you go in there and find out the TV is smashed, and the yelling Slender's going to do because a new TV has to be stolen for the mansion now. Which means-

"Laundry room."

"I'll meet you there."

#its so hard to weave all the same emotions in a oneshot as i did in the chapter fic version 😅#i hope it reads right #like they are in love and perfect for eachother but they dont know it XD 😅😅😅#Slenderman x Reader Oneshot #Slenderman x Reader #Slenderman #Creepypasta #Creepypasta x Reader

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