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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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Screaming Whispers

��the one where anakin is a musician and you’re his muse.

Warnings: rockstar anakin, modern au, smut, fluff, swearing to the max, pda, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praise kink, small corruption kink, size sink, his bands name is 'screaming whispers' which translates to 'sw' for short...like sw for star wars??? and i didn’t even plan that, it just happened, jealousy (brief), possessive anakin, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom anakin, choking kink

Word Count: 6.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The lights were blinding and his ears were ringing, but Anakin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

He couldn’t see much past the flashlights on the phones and the stage lights that flickered in time with the drums his bandmate, Vinny, was currently pounding on. Live shows were always so much better than being stuck in a recording studio all day, because at least out on stage Anakin could let out all his pent up frustration and no one would bat an eye.

Actually, the way he got so into his performance and really gave it his all had his fans absolutely losing their minds as they, too, fell under the control of the music and the lights and the lyrics.

Anakin had only been in his band, Screaming Whispers, for just over a year now, but that was apparently enough time to get his and his friends’ names out there. One low budget album later and everyone knew about them, and really, Anakin had you to thank.

You are his high school sweetheart, and have been his biggest supporter since the day he told you he wanted to do something with music and maybe try to make it his career.

After writing countless drafts of songs that were all about you and his relationship with you, Anakin asked a couple of his friends who played instruments to rent out a recording studio to record one of the drafts he had actually finished.

Anakin was the lead singer and guitarist, while his friend, Vinny, played the drums, and his other friend, Theo, played bass.

It came out sounding decent and Anakin ended up editing it himself before uploading it to his burner account on Youtube, choosing some random photo he had taken of your hand holding his as the thumbnail.

Within a few days, the video only had about thirty views, and he knew most of them were from you.

When he had first let you listen to the song with a nervous expression gracing his features, he was worried when you didn’t say anything during the whole two minutes and forty six seconds it played for.

It ended and you turned to him, an unreadable look on your face before you were throwing yourself at him. He had never seen you so needy and desperate for him (unless he counted the very first time you and he slept together), and you spent the rest of the night loving on him because he had written you a song.

Your boyfriend of over three years at that point had actually made a whole song about you. How could you not tear his clothes off right then and there?

A few more weeks had passed when Anakin randomly decided to see how the video was doing. He was bored and you were at class, and he had grown tired of walking around your shared apartment on campus by himself.

When he clicked on the video, he was sure he had accidentally clicked the wrong one when he saw that it had gone from thirty views to ninety eight thousand views. It had over forty thousand likes and just under a thousand comments, all of which were praising him and the guys for how good the song is.

You once again jumped his bones a few hours later when he showed you it, muttering something about how you knew people would like the song once it got more exposure.

A month later, it had nearly a million views and Anakin was left to assume that the song had gone viral on a different platform that resulted in people searching the song up on Youtube. He didn’t go on TikTok or Instagram as he had no desire to, but was informed by Theo that the song actually did become super popular on TikTok and that was how so many people had found the video on his Youtube.

Since it had gotten way more attention than he had ever expected it to, Anakin quickly changed the channel name from ‘Manakin 246’ to ‘Screaming Whispers’. It was the first thing he thought of and both Vinny and Theo agreed to call themselves that if they were to ever record another song together.

Well, just a few days after that, the trio was contacted by a record label and a week later, they were signed onto Dynamic Studios as an official band.

It all happened so fast. Anakin was encouraged to finish and edit his previous drafts, and that was how he found himself recording a whole album with most of the songs being about you. Vinny and Theo helped out a lot with the songs, but insisted Anakin be credited as the lead songwriter, since the whole thing was his idea.

The album was called ‘Taking Back October’, and it had been streamed over three million times over various music sites. That, of course, resulted in a tour being booked, and that was where he is now.

A full year after uploading that song and three months of being on tour, Anakin could safely say he was meant to do this.

But the best part of it all? He had you watching him from your spot backstage, the biggest smile on your lips whenever he looked over at you from his place on the center of the stage.

From where you stood, he looked to be having the time of his life. He looked so in his element, so confident and comfortable, and not to mention unbelievably attractive.

You found yourself biting your lip as you hid away from the crowd. Part of you wondered how he did it, how he was so at home in front of thousands of strangers, but you supposed some people were just meant for the spotlight, and Anakin is definitely one of those people.

You definitely were not, as just the mere thought of stepping out onto the stage would send you into a full blown panic attack. And Anakin knew that, so despite him wanting to show you off to the world and to his fans - he couldn’t believe he actually has fans - he knew better than to shove you into the limelight like that.

For now, you were comfortable backstage, two lanyards around your neck that told everyone you were a guest on the tour, and that you were allowed backstage.

As you watched your boyfriend play and sing his heart out to his song Homecoming Queen, one of the stage crew members came waltzing up to you, a kind yet flirtatious smile on his lips. “Hi,” he said over the loud live music.

“Hi,” you called back, never taking your eyes off Anakin.

The guy looked down at your tour and backstage passes, a smirk growing on his lips. “You a friend of the bands?”

That made you glance over at him, and you were immediately uncomfortable at the way he was looking at you. “Something like that,” you answer, and it was true - Vinny and Theo had also gone to high school with you, but they were closer to Anakin, obviously - but the crew member didn’t seem too convinced. “I’m dating the lead singer, this song is actually about me.” You try again and watch as his eyes grow wide before he’s looking on stage and at your boyfriend.

He meets Anakin’s blue orbs, and right away you could see a hint of possessiveness in them, similar to the look he’d give other guys when they looked at you for a little too long back in high school.

The crew guy just backs away and leaves you alone, making you grin over at your boyfriend. Anakin just smirks before he is back to singing the chorus, all while never falling out of tune with the rest of the band.

Even though you were buzzing with excitement for what’s in store for you once he’s off the stage and you’d have him all to yourself, you couldn’t deny how attractive he looks on stage.

The show had been going on for just over an hour, and they would be wrapping up soon. Anakin’s skin was coated in a light layer of sweat, and the leather jacket he had been wearing when he had first walked out on stage had long since been discarded. His muscles flexed under the flashing lights as he effortlessly played his electric guitar and sang his heart out.

You were sure his throat was raw, but he didn’t stop, and the fans were loving it. You also couldn’t take your eyes off the way the muscles in his neck strained as he reached the higher notes of the song, and you had to press your thighs together to feel some sort of relief for the pressure that had been steadily building up.

After another ten minutes or so, the band wrapped up the performance and left the stage, leaving the fans still screaming in the stands. After Anakina picked up his jacket he tossed near the drum kit, he handed his guitar to the same stage crew member who had been talking to you, before he wrapped his free arm around your waist.

Your hands were barely touching either side of his face before he was kissing you deeply, the hand that held his jacket moving to grip your waist. Anakin pulled you closer to him, his adrenaline making his body ache for yours in hopes to find some sort of relief for the energy that surged through him.

“You were amazing out there,” you praised against his mouth, wanting nothing more than to poke your tongue out and run it up the side of his damp neck. “Like always.”

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. His hands bunched up the thin fabric of your loose sundress, the flowery print making his want for you skyrocket. “You look hot.”

You laugh, glancing down at the simple dress that seemed to turn him on as if it was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “You look hot,” you say back and brush his slightly wet hair away from his forehead. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to gaze up into his blue eyes, due to the sheer size difference between the two of you. The physical evidence of just how different you two are, even down to your height, had you pressing your thighs together again.

He wore dark clothes, most of which are adorned with chains, and his left arm was showing off a steadily growing sleeve of tattoos of random things - a lightsaber, a couple quotes, more than a few vulgar images, and most importantly, an outline of a heart with the initial of your first name inside it on his bicep. His wardrobe consisted of jeans, muscle tees, leather and jean jackets, and vintage - though sometimes graphic - shirts. He wore black boots or converse to tie off every outfit, completed with a couple of wristbands, rings and his signature necklace chain with your initials on the small charm.

You wore light colors, dresses and skirts that allowed you to show off the soft skin of your legs. Your body was bare of tattoos, with the exception of an ‘A’ on the side of your left wrist. Gold and silver jewelry were always on your wrist or around your neck, and you often wore flats or sneakers that went well with the rest of your look.

It was a big difference between the two of you, one that had been there since you were both seventeen, and it was what drew you into one another to begin with.

He looked intimidating, scary, even, but you found out that he had the sweetest heart, and he had given it to you.

“I am hot,” he grinned down at you, and the double meaning had you shaking your head as he stepped away from you and placed his jacket over your shoulders. He looked you up and down, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as his hands found their home on your waist again. The black leather contrasted against your light dress in such a sinful way, Anakin almost let out a groan at the sight. “Fuck, I can’t wait to take you back to the hotel after this.”

The band was playing two shows in D.C., so their manager went out of her way to book them a hotel for the night. It saved them from sleeping on the tour bus, which was surprisingly difficult to do, and Anakin could usually fall asleep anywhere.

He once fell asleep sitting down with his back pressed up against a washing machine in the laundry room at your apartment while he was waiting for the load to dry. He probably would’ve been sleeping for at least another half hour, had another resident not woken him up because he was sleeping against the only available washing machine.

But, for some reason, Anakin found that sleeping on a tour bus was next to impossible, even though he was given the only double bed because he had you with him.

So, in an attempt to get himself tired, he would spend a good hour with you in bed once he and the band got back on the bus after a show.

He could only imagine how happy Theo and Vinny are at the fact that they won’t have to listen to the two of you going at it for at least one of the two hundred and fifty nights they spent on tour.

“Yeah? You excited to spend a night with me in an actual room instead of a bus?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when his wrapped around your waist and pulled your body right up against his.

“I’m so fucking excited,” he answered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as the stage crew walked around the two of you to begin packing up the equipment. He leaned down so his lips were brushing against your ear as he whispered, “We can be as loud as we want. I can’t wait to make you scream.”

You refrain from moaning in a public place, ignoring how dumb that sounded when you thought about how loud you got on a tour bus that had only a single, thin door that separated yours and Anakin’s room from the other guys.

This man made you crazy in all the best possible ways. “Well,” you say back, tugging him impossibly closer by the hem of his white tee shirt. “What are you waiting for? An encore?”

Anakin groaned quietly, cursing under his breath when he felt your hand slide up the heated skin of his torso. “Fuck no,” he muttered, taking your hand in his and guiding you towards the exit door that would lead the two of you out to the parking lot. “I think if everyone in that audience could see just how good you look right now, they wouldn’t blame me for not going back out there and taking you to bed.”

You smirked a bit as he pulled you onto the bus with him and towards your room to indulge in a makeout session before he would give you the real thing once you got to the hotel.

A short ten minute drive later, and Anakin was painfully aware of just how hard he’s gotten since your quick encounter backstage, followed by your intense making out that took place on the bus.

Once his manager had given him the key to his room, Anakin pulled you along with him as he made his way to the elevator, pushing the button for the twelfth floor when he was in it.

He leaned back against the wall as the numbers above the doors increased with every passing second. His lips were on yours in messy and noisy kisses, his hands sliding down to lift the bottom of your dress up as if you weren’t still in a public place, and were probably being recorded because every elevator seemed to have cameras nowadays.

Once it stopped at the twelfth floor, Anakin easily picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, his hand placed firmly on your back to prevent your dress from slipping up and exposing you to anyone who might enter the hall while he carried you to the room.

He inserted the keycard for room 1209 with his free hand, before tossing it onto the table in the entryway. Anakin’s hands grip your waist after he sets you down and he turns your body away from him, his fingers sliding up your back and pushing your hair to the side. He unclasps the gold necklace he had bought you a few nights ago from a cute store you and he stumbled upon while you were out sightseeing.

Anakin gently sets the chain down onto the table as well and places a few kisses to the back of your neck before he guides you forward and towards the king sized bed. “Look at that, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Since you had discarded his jacket back on the bus, his lips had free rein over the skin of your shoulders and neck as he sucked a few light marks onto it. “It’s bigger than our bed we have at home.”

Home. It seemed like so long ago, when in reality, Screaming Whispers had only been on tour for three months now. Anakin planned on using the money he would get from the tour and the shows to officially move in with you, in your own house, not a student apartment that was on the campus of his old college.

You were still a student there, but had opted to get all your assignments done before the tour so you could save yourself from having to give up the school year.

Humming, you lean back against his body. “We still need to get our bags from the bus,”

Anakin sucked on the skin of your jaw as his hands pulled at the thin fabric of your dress. “I’ll get our stuff later,” he promised, sliding his hands up the front of your body, making chills take over you as he gripped your chest. “You look so fucking pretty, baby.”

You hum again, closing your eyes when you feel one of his hands inch lower and lower until it disappears underneath your dress. “Just for you, Ani,” you whispered as he softly rubbed your clit through the thin lace of your panties.

He kissed your shoulder in appreciation as his hand slipped past the lace, his ring-clad middle finger dipping into your heat. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he nearly moaned, his free arm wrapping around your middle when he felt your body slump back against his. “So wet for me.”

“Ani,” you gasped quietly, moaning when he began to pump his finger in and out of you. The lace restricted him from going super hard, but he much rather preferred to work you up to that, anyway. “Fuck, it’s all for you. You looked so hot tonight.”

“You look hot, too, pretty girl,” he mumbled and removed his hand from your panties as he spun your body around so your chest was pressed to his. “I saw the way that crew guy was looking at you.”

You moaned quietly when his knee separated your legs, his thigh rubbing against your core through his jeans. “I said I was with you,” you weakly say, gripping his biceps tightly when his hands found your waist and began sliding your body up and down his thigh. “Said I’m yours.”

“You are mine,” he rasped, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before he gently shoved you away. The backs of your knees hit the end of the bed and you fall back onto it, your dress slipping up past your thighs and revealing the pastel pink lace that covered your core. “You’ve been mine since we were seventeen.”

You bite down harshly on your lip when he pulls the lace down your legs and drops it to the floor. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled when he ran his tongue up your folds, eagerly collecting your wetness.

Anakin glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing at the way you were refraining from being too loud. “No, Y/n,” he says sternly, bringing a hand up to slide his index and middle fingers into you. “We have this whole room to ourselves. I want you to be as loud as you can fucking get.”

Almost instantly a loud moan escapes you when he sucks on your clit, your back arching slightly when he began to fuck his fingers into you. Those skilled fingers, the same ones that had so effortlessly played the guitar in front of thousands of people just a half hour before. “Fuck, Ani. Fuck,” you whined.

Anakin smirked against you, curling his fingers once they are knuckle deep within you. The calloused tips brush against your walls and make you squeeze your eyes shut, finding it hard to believe that a year before all this, the skin of his fingers was smooth and gentle as he only played guitar in his free time before he made a career out of it.

Over a year of playing it non-stop had hardened his fingers and was a blessing in disguise, as they had never felt better when they were buried deep within you.

“God, it feels so good,” you whimpered as he traced the letters of his name with his tongue onto your clit. “So fucking good, Ani.”

He hummed, sending vibrations up your core and making your mind go into a frenzy. “Louder, baby,” he softly demanded, moving back up your body and hovering over you while his hand picks up the pace a bit. “I want this whole floor to complain about us tomorrow.”

You were so turned on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about the sounds your core was making as his fingers plunged into it repeatedly. Not that Anakin ever let you feel embarrassed about it, seeing as he prided himself on how wet he makes you every time he goes out on stage.

“I know you want it, too,” he continues as he stared down at your fucked out expression. “Admit it.”

“I want it,” you managed to say as his thumb began rubbing circles on your clit in time with his fingers. The coolness from his ring contrasted against your searing heat, making the knot in your abdomen steadily form.

Anakin smirked down at you, leaning in to run his tongue along the skin under your ear. “Want what?”

“God,” you groaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone on this floor to know who makes me feel so good, Anakin. I want them all to complain about how loud we are.”

Anakin was satisfied with your answer, “That’s my girl,” and he leaned down to begin sucking various marks onto the skin of your neck, the sounds you were emitting going straight to his dick that throbbed against his jeans. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of hearing all the sweet sounds you made just for him, and had been making for him since you were in high school.

“Anakin,” you moaned, lifting your hips in time with the movement of his hand. “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your lips brushed against his as you begged him to keep fucking you with his skilled fingers.

He hummed, kissing you deeply. “You gonna come for me?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt the way you clenched around his fingers every time your walls sucked him back in.

“Yes,” you nearly whispered, a crease forming in your brow as the coil in your stomach was a mere few seconds away from snapping. “Please.”

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he requested, his voice deep and sultry next to your ear. “I want it all over my hand.”

You were unable to deny him his wish as you came hard, your thighs shaking slightly and your mouth opening to let out a long and loud moan. Your head dipped back into the middle of the bed, your fingers twisting tightly in the soft comforter as he slowed down the thrusts of his hand until you were whimpering quietly.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, kissing you once before removing his fingers from inside you. He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks the digits clean as he moves back down your body. Anakin licked a single strip up your slick core before standing up, smirking at the way your whole body shook at the action.

You weakly propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him pull his belt from his jean loops. He drops it to the floor, the sound of the buckle hitting the hardwood making your head swim with thoughts of what’s in store for you next.

“Take that pretty dress off, baby,” he said under his breath, reaching behind him to pull off the white tee and leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You quickly lifted yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed, your hands fumbling to tug off your dress. Anakin gives you a soft smirk at how obedient you always are for him as you tossed the dress off the side of the bed, kicking his jeans down his legs and leaving him in his tight boxer briefs.

You gave him a look that nearly had him falling to the floor as he moved forward and kneeled on the bed in front of you, making you crane your neck to be able to stare up at him. Your hands reach up and tug on the hair on the back of his neck, pulling his head down so his mouth could meet yours.

Moaning quietly against his lips, you arch your back when you feel his hands slide up to unclasp your matching pink bra. He pulled it from your body, leaving you completely bare to his lust filled eyes. He let out a low growl as his hands slid back down to your hips. “Lay back, pretty girl,”

You oblige quickly, laying further up on the bed and resting against the soft pillows. “Please, Anakin,” you whined as he rubbed his still covered dick against your heat. “Fuck me.”

Anakin groaned as he shoved his boxers down, gripping your thighs and tugging them up until they were draped over his. “I’ll fuck you, baby,” he promised, running his tip over your wetness and coating himself in it. “I’ll fuck you so good, make sure everyone knows who made you come.”

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped just as he thrusted himself into you without warning, making you reach out to grip his forearms. Still on his knees, Anakin began fucking into you at a brutal pace, pouring all his leftover energy from the show into the way his hips hit yours. “God, yes.”

Anakin gripped your waist tightly, his eyes drifting from the way your breasts bounced with each thrust to your face as it twisted up in pleasure. “Say my name,” he demanded, burying himself to the brim and pausing there.

Your body tensed up, your stomach muscles flexing as he kept your hips pressed to his. “Anakin,”

“Louder,” he ordered, repeating the action.

“Anakin!” You shouted, and it was followed by a string of moans as he resumed rocking his body against your own. “God, Anakin, you’re so deep. So deep in me.”

He grunted at your filthy words, the faint sound of the headboard hitting the wall making the whole scene look like it was straight out of a porno. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he praised, reaching one hand up to pinch at your sensitive nipples. He felt you clench around him as he worked on hardening your peaks, his pace faltering just slightly at the tightness of your walls. “Always take me so well.”

“I love you, Anakin,” you whimpered, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his hand.

He groaned at your sweet words, placing his hands flat against the comforter on either side of your head from where he knelt above you. “I love you so much,” he said back, speeding up his pace. “I’ve loved you for four years now, baby.”

“Nearly five,” you reminded him with a cry of pleasure. “We’ve been together for almost five years, Ani.”

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, leaning further down to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, a big contrast to the way his lower body was currently destroying yours. “How could I ever forget about the day you became mine?”

“Best day of my life,” you mumbled when he leaned back again, digging his knees into the bed as he all but railed into you. “Fuck, you feel so good, Anakin.”

“You’re so tight,” he responded, making your stomach twist with a need to please him forever. You were vaguely aware of the loud smacking of the headboard now, and the way the picture that hung above the bed was tapping with each thrust of his hips. It only fueled your desire for him as your hands gripped the comforter once again.

Your previous orgasm rendered you a bit more sensitive than normal, so you weren’t all that surprised to feel that knot begin to tighten once more. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,”

“Yeah? You’re going to come all over me again?” He mocked slightly, only making your head swim with dizziness at how dirty the whole event is. “I want it. Come all over me, pretty girl, nice and messy.”

Your eyes rolled back just a bit when he reached one hand up to press his fingers against the base of your neck. A strangled moan escaped you as you clenched helplessly around him.

You didn’t think you would ever get used to how he was in bed, versus how he was out of it. He was sweet, kind and caring with you outside the bedroom, but inside it he was rough, loud and determined to get you off in any way he possibly could. The difference was almost too much to handle.

A few more deep thrusts later and your core was flooding around him, noisily sucking him in deeper and alerting him of your second orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, watching as his dick became even more coated in your wetness. It spurred him to speed up the pace so he could reach his own release. “Good fucking girl.”

“Anakin,” you struggled to say as your body shook with overstimulation. “Ani, come, baby, please.”

It wasn’t the first time he had you begging him to come in you, but it still had his head going fuzzy for a second or two, as well as made him twitch inside you. “You want it?” He asked through a clenched jaw, his neck muscles straining as he tried to hold off for a little bit longer.

“Yes,” you answered, powerless against his sharp thrusts as you took each one. “I want it so bad.”

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his pace slowing down as his own release flooded through him. With a couple slow thrusts into your greedy core, he fucked his seed deep within you.

He falls onto the bed next to you a few seconds later, his chest heaving and a light layer of sweat adorning his skin, mirroring the way he looked on stage an hour or so prior to this.

Anakin was a lot more drained now than he was before, and he knew that if he were to stay in bed for much longer he would probably pass out with you wrapped in his arms.

He lifted himself up and pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, murmuring an “I’ll be right back,” against it before he dressed himself in his shirt and jeans, grabbing the keycard on his way out to retrieve both yours and his bags from the bus.

The next day, after spending most of the morning wrapped up in the sheets together, you and Anakin finally decided to get up.

Kind of.

He was currently propped against the headboard, eating a piece of toast with you on his lap. His acoustic guitar he brought with him was placed in your lap as you softly ran your fingers against the strings, leaning back against his bare chest. You were nowhere near as talented as he is with the instrument, and you knew it would sound awful if you were to try and play it without his guidance.

“Mm,” he hummed when you plucked one of the strings at his request, tossing the crust of the toast onto the plate that was next to him on the bed. He would usually be more careful so there wouldn’t be any crumbs in the sheets, but he was checking out of the hotel before tonight’s show, so he decided to leave it to the cleaning staff as he knew they would be washing the sheets anyway. “That’s the B string, baby, not the D string.”

“And I’m supposed to know that…how?” You asked as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

“Well, I’ve only been playing guitar for the entire length of our relationship,” he teased as he placed his right hand over yours. He guided your thumb to one of the middle strings and gently brushed it against it. Of course, it sounded a lot better because he was the one who controlled how much pressure and the pace of your thumb against the string. “That’s the D string.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the cockiness in his voice as you strummed along the string again, this time sounding a bit better than before.

“There you go,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as a reward. “That was good.”

You turn your head to give him a small glare. “You’ve never been a good liar,” you mutter. “Especially when it comes to lying to me, it’s why you could never get away with cheating.”

Anakin scoffed, “I would never,”

You shake your head with a dumb grin on your lips as he guides your fingers to strum the tune he had been going over in his head for the past few days. You let him take full control over the way he moved your fingers, noting the soft humming of an unfamiliar song leaving the back of his throat. “New song, Ani?”

He shrugged from his spot behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, your tank top doing very little to cover your skin from him. “Maybe,” he answers as he begins to kiss up your neck, not even needing to look down at the strings to be able to play them perfectly.

It made you a bit lightheaded, how hot and talented he truly is. “What’s it going to be about?” You ask, eyes glued to the way he effortlessly helped you play the guitar while also holding a conversation with you. His talent always surprised you, despite knowing early on how skilled he is with the instrument.

“You, obviously,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. “What else would I write a song about?”

“You’re too much,” you say and he laughs quietly, agreeing with you as he goes back to mumbling potential lyrics in your ear.

A few hours go by and it’s nearing the time for Anakin and the band to head onto stage. He smoothes out his graphic tee and smirks at the way you cowered behind the large speaker, eyeing him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“God, Ani, you look good,”

“Me?” He asked and reached his hand out to you, pulling you into his arms once you took it. He played with the end of your pink and white skirt, eye fucking you a mere few minutes before he had to go perform in front of thousands of people. “I bet Vin and Theo are so jealous that it was me who got to take you to bed last night, in an actual room.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders, gazing up at him. “I bet all your fans are jealous that it’s going to be me who gets you all to herself after the show,”

Anakin hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “I’d be jealous, too, if the hottest girl took me home,” he rasped. “Or in our case, took me back to that stupid bus.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Since you had applied a cute pink lip to go with your skirt, a stain was left on his skin when you pulled away. “Oh, sorry,” you say and lift your hand up, but pause when his fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Don’t you dare try to wipe that off,” he ordered with a smirk. “I think it completes my look.”

And it really did. A black snapback was placed backwards on his head, a vintage shirt covered his chest and exposed his sleeve of tattoos, dark jeans with a few chains connected to the belt loops hugged his legs, and black boots gave him the daunting appearance of someone who was born to be on stage.

The pink lipstick mark only added to the whole thing.

“Okay,” you swallow harshly, stepping away once Vinny handed him his guitar. “Have a good show.”

“I love you,” he called out as he placed the strap over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he made his grand entrance, the crowd seemed even louder than normal, and you could only hope at least some of them were able to see your mark on his cheek as you hid behind the speaker and watched your boyfriend get lost in his element.

Series based off this fic

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #star wars #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #screaming whispers #screaming whispers au

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cdragons · 1 year ago

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Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter One

Prologue

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Aemond is delulu, tiny!Jace is delulu, Dark Themes, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you all so much for the amazing support for this story's prologue, I did NOT expect so many positive reviews! I'm sorry this took so long, but I had a ton of applications and finals. But since I am on winter break, hopefully I will be able to upload more fics! Happy Holidays and big shoutout to @valeskafics, who continues to be the HOTD fanfic writing ICON that we all know and love! If you liked reading this work, reblog and comment if you want to be tagged in future installments of this work! Also I apologize for any grammatical errors, I wanted to post this as soon as possible.

You have known your entire life that you were going to be one of the many seamstresses that serviced the Royal Family.

By the age of three, your mother would teach you how to begin your very first stitches, which soon shifted to learning the most complicated patterns of embroidery. You still remember the tears in her eyes as you presented the silk-woven handkerchief that had lovely little purple and blue flowers embroidered on the borders for her birthday. Your face flushed to an almost too bright red when she insisted on showing all the other royal seamstresses and tailors your first handkerchief. But it made you smile in remembering how big her smile was that week, as she was so pleased by how much you’ve progressed at such a young age.

When you were only six, your mother had begun to teach you how to properly extract the dye from beautiful flowers and the scales of brightly-colored insects. So skilled and nimble were your fingers that you even gave your childhood playmate, Aemond Targaryen, a thick green wool cloak with green and silver dragon embroidery. The cloak’s wool had been dyed by your hand with copious amounts of goldenrod and indigo flowers. You then carefully stitched silk to line the inside of the cloak to prevent him from overheating, as even the harshest winters in the Crownlands were hardly anything compared to the summers in the North. It had caught you off-guard in the almost too-tight embrace he locked you in, but you eagerly reciprocated as you could tell he appreciated the gift more than words could describe.

It was not just a gift for is name-day from a childhood companion, but also a way to reassure him that he will one day have a dragon. And even if the gods do not grant him worthy in their eyes, he would always be considered a prince worthy of the Targaryen name in yours. After all, there were not many princes that would willingly spend all their free time with a lowly seamstress’ daughter – even if the supposed seamstress that was your mother was so heavily favored by the Queen.

“Pearl,” came a voice with a tone far too serious despite its youth, “what are you doing in the Godswood?”

You lifted your head from old tome you were studying, only to see a young boy of only nine name-days, that stood as straight as one of the stone pillars that stood in the Sept of Baelor. His white locks nearly blinded you with how the sunshine seemed to reflect on them.

“Well my prince, as you can clearly see, I have decided to take advantage of this fine day to do a bit of studying of my own.” You lifted the near ancient tome on your lap to show him the title, Myths and Legends of the Jade Seas.

Whatever outwardly beauty the book possessed had long diminished, the spine was bent from the hundreds of hours spent looking through its contents and the letters were near faded to a dull grey as the pages yellowed from age. But the colors of the ink remained as vibrant as when they were first painted on the frail sheets, accompanied by beautiful imagery of magical dragons and elusive mermaids. The details were so fine and intricate that it felt as if you only needed to touch the ink in order to be transported into the stories. You remembered how you begged either your mother or father to read it to you every night, as utterly transfixed by the colors back then as you remained so now.

“You are more than welcome to join me, but if – and only if – you share one of those apples hiding in your knapsack.”

Finally showing an expression appropriate for his age, the young prince reached in his pouch to show two gorgeous apples – the skin was practically gleaming in the sun as your mouth watered for its taste. Aemond handed one to you as he sat by your side underneath the plentiful shade of the heart tree. Scooting over to make room on the overgrown root you sat on, you eagerly showed him strange text.

“Look Aemond!” you exclaimed as you shoved the book to his nose. “This book says that there were dragons in Yi Ti! Isn’t that amazing?”

Aemond looked at you as if you had suddenly grown two heads and five eyes. “How can there be dragons in Yi Ti? All the dragons save the ones in the dragonpit and the rocky shores of Dragonstone had perished in The Doom that sunk Valyria. Everyone knows that pearl.”

“These dragons are different! According to my kepa, Yi Ti dragons don’t even need wings to fly!”

The young prince rolled his eyes at that. “How could they fly if they don’t have wings? Even Carraxes the Blood Wrym has wings, and he looks like an overgrown red snake.” Honestly, his pearl could be so silly. “Besides, what would your father know? He’s a bastard from the Iron Islands, that’s nowhere near the Jade Seas.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “He heard so on his travels with Lord Velaryon and Prince Laenor! Apparently, these dragons use magic and live in the ocean. And they don’t even breathe fire! They make it rain and control the oceans!”

“…Pearl, I think you’ve been spending too much time making those dyes. The fumes must have gotten to your head.”

You openly gaped at your friend’s comment, completely in shock for how blatantly he dismissed you. It made you want to pound your fists on his person until he took it back. So naturally, you did just that.

“Aemond Targaryen, you take that back right now!” you shrieked. Although your actions told otherwise, the smile on your face showed that you took no true offense to his words. If anything, it pleased you to know that you could still make the stone-faced prince giggle as a boy should at his age.

“Never!”

As the two of you giggled and played, several pairs of wandering eyes spied and grimaced at the distasteful display. Although your friendship with the next generation of the royal family was no secret, much of the court disapproved of how highly the royal family thought of you and Prince Aemond’s friendship. After all, he was the second born prince of House Targaryen, born of King Viserys and Queen Alicent. By the time the Targaryen prince could toddle, great things were expected from him. From a very early age, he immersed himself in his studies befitting of a prince of Westeros. You, on the other hand, were only the daughter of a seamstress and a bastard knight who became a lord of a holding so minor that it had no name. You only skills were that you could make pretty dye, and stitch pretty pictures with a needle and thread.

But he always treated you kindly and defended you whenever his eldest brother decided to use you as his latest target for mockery. You were a precious pearl – his precious pearl – Aegon may be his brother, but he could never love Aegon as much as he loved you. True, your father being a bastard did you no favors in the Red Keep’s court, but Aemond would never tell you that himself. Instead, he openly acknowledged his bravery and commended his loyalty to the Crown. After all, how many bastards can boast that they saved the Lord Corlys Velaryon, holder of the Driftwood Throne, from a siege of pirates during one of the lord’s many voyages to Essos?

In turn, you always made sure to provide comfort and support whenever his brother and nephews decided to pick on him. Without fail, he would seek out your company – his eyes red and puffy, while his cheeks were wet from hastily wiped tears. You would take his hands and the two of you would venture out to the library’s more secluded sections. You made sure to pack whatever you have been working on with you. While you were glad that he came to you for comfort, it would do little good for either of you if you were to be punished for not completing whatever tasks your mother assigned you.

“Who cares if you don’t have a dragon?” you once asked him as the two of you laid next to each other, surrounded by books. “There are plenty members of the Targaryen line that did not have dragons, but they still lived out important lives in serving their family however they could. King Jaehaerys was considered a great ruler for how he served the realm�� not for riding Vermithor. And even if you had a dragon, is that all you wish to be known for? Your grandfather, Baelon the Brave, was wise and beloved by the small folk for how he tried to make their lives easier. But all he is known for in history books is how he burned down Dorne with Vhagar.”

“Better to be known for a dragon than to disappear, not being known for anything – not even a dragon worthy of the Targaryen name.”

Sitting up against a bookshelf, you repositioned Aemond to lie his head on your thighs. Luckily the candlelight made the area dark enough so that you wouldn’t see his ears turning red. Instead, he buried his face in the soft cotton of your blue tunic as you stroked his soft silver white locks. Although his heart was beating erratically, your sweet scent along with your body’s suppleness was enough to take away any ire left in him.

“Stop that,” you ordered, “you will not be forgotten, don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes softening at his tense shoulders, you eased on the sternness of your tone. “Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.”

You pretended not to notice how tightly he clenched your dress as you ignored the how warm the spot where his hot tears grew.

As you continued to stroke his hair, Aemond made a silent vow that when he finally claimed a dragon, you would be the first person he would ride it with. He thought about how his bastard nephews would always try to take you from him, especially Jace, how he despised that boy. No, your touches would belong to him, and only him. Your sweet words and kind demeanor were his to cherish. You were his pearl – his pearl – and no one else’s, especially not the pretend Targaryen that was Jacaerys Strong.

Yes, it pleased Aemond to know that he was your best friend. But sometimes it frustrated him in how you refused to take him seriously as a man. For example, he once announced that when he claimed his dragon, he would finally be a noble dragon knight who would protect you from the most vicious of beasts. No matter how he insisted on his sincerity, you only rolled your eyes at the proclamation. You told him that you had no need for a knight, let alone a dragon knight. You had your dearest kepa for protection, and there was no finer knight in all the Seven Kingdoms in your eyes. So silly was his pearl indeed.

“Ashi’!” a new voice called out, interrupting the comfortable silence between him and his pearl. It belonged to the king’s eldest grandson, Prince Jacaerys Strong Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne after his mother, Princess Rhaenyra. “Your mother is looking for you! She said that she needs your help with Mother’s clothes!”

“Alright!” When you stood from you spot, you made sure to brush away any dirt or debris left on your skirts. You gathered your mother’s book in both arms when you made your way to the prince. “But why did my muña not send one of her attendants instead? It would not have been difficult to find me. Everyone knows that I enjoy reading under the Hearts Tree in the Godswood during my spare time. Are you not busy with your own duties, my prince?”

Straightening his posture to appear taller, Jace did his best to sound as authoritative as his father had taught him. “I just finished my lessons for the morning, and I volunteered to escort you. Besides, I figured that it would do me some good in practicing escorting you. I’ll need to do it in the future when I am king after my mother.” His round freckled cheeks reddened to a rosy hue at that last part.

Not at all catching the terribly obvious implication, you shrugged off his words as you figured that he meant that he was using you as practice for whichever future noble lady he would court in the future. However, the suggestion was not at all lost on your friend, who was still sitting on the overgrown root, glaring at his eldest nephew with a fury that rivaled the Great Doom that sunk Valyria.

“Well, we should be on our way then. Come on Aemond, we should get going!” You held out your held for your friend to hold on to, but were quickly interrupted by the brown-haired Targaryen at the side.

“He can’t! I mean-” stammered Jace as did his best in thinking of an excuse, “-I’m afraid my uncle cannot join us. You see, um – his mother, the Queen, requested his presence in her solar.”

“I’m sure my mother won’t mind waiting for a few moments while I join you in escorting my pearl to her favorite friend, nephew.” This wasn’t a lie on Aemond’s part. While he didn’t like the idea in keeping his mother waiting for him, he despised the thought of you being alone with the Strong Knight’s eldest bastard even more. Besides, his mother adored you as if you were her own daughter. It would have gone without saying that she would be happy with her son spending time with her best friend’s daughter.

“But why would you want to risk it, uncle?” Jacaerys wasn’t going to let his selfish uncle hog all of your attention. You were his friend too! It wasn’t fair that he had find crumbs of your time and affections, while his uncle got to feast on your smiles and laughter. He had spent hours with the dragon keepers of the dragonpit to help him train Vermax, all so that he could finally show you how close he was in riding him! But you were always too busy comforting his stupid dragonless uncle!

Enough was enough. Jacaerys may have been a Velaryon like his father, but he was also a Targaryen like his mother. It was he who carried the dragon’s blood, and dragons took what they desired or felt what they deserved. And he desrved to be with you more than Aemond.

“It’s alright Aemond, we’ll talk more later! Let’s go Jace, we shouldn’t keep our mothers waiting any more than we have.” Grabbing his hand before walking out of the gardens, you weren’t able to see the younger prince throw a triumphant smirk to his uncle before once more facing you with the story of how Luke accidentally got egg in his hair.

Watching his literal bastard of a nephew walk hand-in-hand away with his pearl, Aemond Targaryen felt his fury grow more potent with each step. He hated that you called his nephew by his nickname, all while he had none. What’s worse was the fact that you allowed him to refer to you as “Ashi.” What a ridiculous name, only a lowborn such as his nephew would refer to someone as precious as you as something as study and simple like “Ashi.” You were a pearl – his pearl, in fact. A fact that he felt was important to emphasize as he watched your head being thrown back in laughter. His anger grew to an all-time high when he watched you ruffle Jacaery’s hair with abundant affection.

Not wanting to make a scene, he walked to his mother’s chambers in fuming silence. While her presence wasn’t yours, maybe he could think of a plan to get you away from his whore of a sister and her illegitimate offspring.

If worse comes to worst, he might need to recruit his sister to his cause. He knew that Helaena would especially be thrilled in receiving your presence. You were the only one besides your parents that did not treat his beloved sister like an oddity. If you were not with Aemond, you were often found stitching with the young princess. It seemed that you were the only person in the entire world that could get her to smile.

Such a sweet girl, his pearl. Someone so kind was not meant to endure the presence of lowly bastards – even if they did technically carry royal blood.

He needed to come up with something fast.

Translations:

“Nyke pendagon iksā brilliant. Eman dōrī rhēdan anyone else qilōni kostagon ȳdragon Valyrio Eglie hae sȳrī hae ao. Kostā solve problems bona aegon ēza trouble lēda during aōha lessons lēda se Giēñatī. Aemond, iksā ñuha sȳrje raqiros. Gaomagon daor ivestragon kesā sagon daor rūnas.” - “You’re brilliant. I’ve never met anyone else who can speak such fluent High Valyrian, especially at your age. You can solve problems that Aegon has trouble with during your lessons with the Maester. Aemond, you are my best friend. Don’t say that you will be forgotten.”

Tagging:

@valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd au #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x oc #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #reader insert

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sinningforrory · 2 years ago

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stupid // stan uris smut

a/n: hey everyone! it's been so long since i've posted and a lot of people have been sending me requests but since my first and only fic i've uploaded on here has gained 1,000 notes i thought i'd gift you guys this fic as a thank you. i'm gonna try and upload a lot more now because i appreciate so much the love my writing gets fr thank you guys so much. hope you enjoy and as always, reblogging really helps me out so if u enjoy, pls don't hesitate!

WARNINGS: dom!stan, submissive!bratty!reader, slight choking, mention of drugs (if you squint) SMUT, majorly NSFW minors please dni, thank you!

WORD COUNT: OVER 6K

SUMMARY: Your parents best friends' son. The picture perfect grade A student of the perfect suburban family. And a cocky douchebag. You hated him. But, since you both got into the same college, Stan has been making it clear that he definitely does not hate you...

Stanley. Even his name irked you. I mean, who in their right mind births a beautiful baby boy and names him Stanley. What a stupid name. It fits him though, that’s for sure. Stupid Stan with his stupid family and his stupid friends and his stupid studying. He was just so stupid that you wanted to bash his brains in any time he so much as breathed around your presence.

Of course, he hadn’t necessarily done anything to warrant your intense hatred towards him. He just irritated you. You were Jewish too so you’d always see each other at the Synagogue and your parents were enamoured by Stan’s stupidness. They saw it as ‘perfection’ instead though. They were always bothering you about how you should ‘aim to be more like Stan’ or ‘Stan’s parents told me he got an A in this class. So why are you getting a D?’ He drove you insane. You weren’t Stan, you weren’t stupid like Stan so why couldn’t your parents just love you for you instead of comparing you to that stupid, stupid boy.

Due to your parents being very good friends with Stan’s family, you saw each other a lot more than you’d like. And every time you were there you took every opportunity to be nasty to Stan just to wear off some steam. But that made it even worse. It wouldn’t matter if he was a dick to you too. But no. He’s NICE to you. And you know he’s doing it on purpose to get on your nerves because every time he compliments your hair and sees you glaring knives into his eyes, he does a subtle smirk to himself as if he’s fucking won this silly little game you play. He knows he’s driving you insane and he’s proud of himself for it. What a fucking douche.

It had always been this way. Stan irritates you, you’re a bitch to Stan, Stan eats it up, Stan irritates you, blah, blah, blah. It was an endless cycle of hate.

However, something had flipped in Stan the summer before you both left for college. Luckily enough, you’d both managed to get into the exact same ivy league as each other so you would be stuck with Stan for the next four years. When you found out you immediately wanted to bash your head into a wall repeatedly until you woke up from this absolute nightmare that was Stanley Uris.

The news that you had both gotten into an ivy league warranted a celebratory party for the both of you. The idea from your lovely mother, of course, and at said party, Stan was acting a lot stranger than normal. So strange to the point where you were currently hiding in the bathroom with your back against the door breathing heavily as if he was chasing after you and about to knock the door down with an axe.

It started in the garden. You wore a white summer dress with tiny yellow flowers scattered among it. Stan was looking very punchable in cream khakis and a navy polo. Unbuttoned, of course, because he could never look TOO tidy. You stood by the refreshments, sipping a virgin pina colada when Stan strutted his way over with a teasing grin on his face, ready to ruin your relaxed mood.

‘So, I guess we’re going to college together. It seems you really can’t escape me, can you, y/n?’ He leaned against the table next to you, taking a sip from his beer. You glared up at him, already infuriated by the fact that he was leaning down with you stood up straight next to him and he was still taller than you.

‘Oh please, Stanley, don’t pretend to be so happy about this when we both know you are just as excited about this as me.’

He gasped in mock surprise before laughing softly at the frown on your face, ‘Oh, come on, princess, you know you love me. I guarantee that you would miss this adorable face as soon as you knew you couldn’t see me anymore.’

He smiled at you gently before moving his sunglasses up to rest on his curls and taking a sip of beer.

You moved to stand in front of him, making a move to leave the refreshments and flee to your room (or anywhere away from Stan). ‘Bite me, Uris.’

‘If you insist, princess.’ He smirked at you and folded his arms over his chest, his muscles straining under his polo.

Your eyes widened slightly, shock evident on your face at his words. He had always been overly saccharine with you but he had never flirted with you so boldly. Shaking yourself out of your daze, you scoffed before walking off with your pina colada into your kitchen for some snacks.

5 minutes later, you were still stood in front of your fridge, supposedly searching for food but instead, you found yourself staring off into space. You could not scratch that smug image of Stan out of your brain, his words engraving themselves into your memory, messing with your mind.

Worst of all, you found yourself repeatedly wondering why you liked what he had said to you. Pulling yourself together, you closed the fridge door but immediately jumped as you saw Stan standing right where the fridge door had been resting.

‘You look a little lost, princess, is everything okay?’ He was stood so close to you that your chests were half an inch away from touching. You gazed into his eyes for half a second before realising what you were doing and coughed before putting some distance between the two of you.

‘Uh-uhm, I’m fine thank you, Stanley. Just couldn’t find what I was craving.’

He nodded his head understandingly before taking a step forward so you were nearly chest to chest once again. ‘What exactly are you craving, y/n?’

He hadn’t meant to sound so enticing, or maybe he had, but the way he said that with his gravelly voice and his tiny smirk made your thighs involuntarily clench together.

‘E-erm, just some guacamole dip. My mom always hides it from me though because she knows I’ll eat it all before the other guests can have any.’ You fiddled with the hem of your dress, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front of you. What had gotten into you, why was he making your confidence dissipate so easily and why were you suddenly acting like a nervous school-girl?

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed before an evil look took over his features. He was planning something, you could tell. And you didn’t like it.

‘Oh, you mean.. this guacamole? The one on top of the fridge? That I can reach? But you can’t?’

Your eyes trailed along his veiny, muscular forearm before they met his slender, mocking hand where you found it gesturing towards... of course: the dip.

Frustration filled you head to toe as you realised that Stan, once again, had the upper hand. Your jaw ticked as your eyes finally met Stan’s cocky, patronising eyes and you had to resist the urge to make those smug, brown orbs black and blue.

‘It seems that you have something you need to ask me, darling. Because, let’s face it, we’re not gonna have a stare-off all day in front of this fridge. So, let’s hear it: “Oh, please, Stanley. I need you to get me that dip off the top of the fridge because I was born with incompetent height and I can’t do it without you, Stanley.”’

You crossed your arms over your chest as you listened, painfully, to Stan mock you with such arrogance you found it hard to resist whacking him with a frying pan. However, to Stan’s surprise, before he had the chance to continue making fun of you, there was no one standing in front of him anymore.

Where had you gone? he thought. That’s unlike you, to admit defeat so easily. Where was your usual snarky bite back, attacking him on his ‘unusually long legs’?

But before he could get too worried, there you were. Returning into the kitchen to fight back to Stan.... with a chair.

Wordless and emotionless, you put the chair down in front of the fridge, stood on its seat and grabbed the dip, finally retreating from the kitchen, not before throwing Stan a victorious wink before you disappeared around the corner.

Truth be told, you had no idea how to respond to Stan’s unusual behaviour so instead of arguing back like you would normally do, your mind blanked of insults completely and you did the next best thing that you could think of: beat him at his own game.

It was obvious that something about Stan had changed since the last time you had spoken and Stan seemed to think he was one step ahead of you. What stupid Stan didn’t know was that you were nowhere near as Stupid as him and knew that the only way to irritate him like you used to was to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Sure, you weren’t exactly completely against the idea of flirting with Stan for fun. He was obviously a good-looking guy; you knew because he would never let you forget it. And you would never pass up the opportunity to get a hot guy flustered.

This was how Stan wanted to play? Fine. He’d better prepare to lose.

It had been two weeks since this little game you and Stan were playing had begun and you couldn’t hold out much longer. The tension between the two of you had sky-rocketed and even the slightest twitch of a smirk in the corner of Stan’s mouth had your panties pooling with desire.

You had an inkling that Stan was in the same boat as you were as your lingering caresses on his arm or leg when laughing with him and his family seemed to make him blush much easier than before.

The point of why you were doing all of this was still vaguely swimming around in the back of your mind: do not be the first to give into your temptations. Don’t sleep with Stan.

However, with Stan so perfectly positioned behind you so your butt met his bulge as he leaned over your petite frame to reach for a glass, you had to take deep breaths to remind yourself once again: don’t sleep with Stan.

You gulped and took a deep breath of relief once he removed himself from his position behind you to lean on the counter next to you. His gaze burned into the side of your face and you met his eyes briefly just to find him with a cocky smirk plastered on him.

Your blood boiled (with rage or desire, you didn’t know) but you looked away without giving even the slightest of a reaction. You could never let him know how much his actions affected you.

It was that dreaded time of the week when you go over to the Uris family’s house for dinner and after eating a delicious meal cooked by Mrs Uris you did the routine of standing in the kitchen and drinking an iced tea with Stan whilst the adults got drunk in the living room.

Usually, you and Stan would bicker pointlessly during this time of the evening, but tonight it was completely silent between the two of you with only lingering gazes and glares thrown from one to the other. The tension could be cut with a butter knife.

However, your torment was put on pause as, suddenly, Mrs Uris appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Hello sweeties,’ she hiccoughed slightly, clearly tipsy. ‘I know that the kitchen is very beautiful but you are welcome to go up to Stan’s room if you want. Stan certainly won’t mind a beautiful girl like you to be up in his room, y/n.’ She winked as you blushed and Stan coughed out an embarrassed ‘Mom!’.

She then made her departure, giggling to herself softly as she went. Stan then coughed to get your attention and gestured with a jerk of his head to the direction of his room, indirectly asking if you wanted to take up his mother on her offer. You shrugged before making your way up the stairs to Stan’s room.

Stan’s room. What a place to behold. You hadn’t been up there since you were about 12 and had to work with Stan on a class project. It had changed a lot since then. Posters of bands that Stan listened to were plastered all over the walls and clothes were scattered all over the floor, and let’s not forget to mention the faint aroma of marijuana.

Stan manoeuvred you out of the doorway, his fingers gracing your waist ever so slightly with his bulge pressed against your lower back as he shimmied past you.

He jumped on his bed, his arms and legs in a starfish position on either side of him, and closed his eyes with a big sigh.

You carefully sat yourself down next to him on the bed, feeling too hesitant to lie yourself down next to him. He leaned up against the bed frame with his hands behind his head as he studied your appearance precariously as ever.

‘Why do you hate me?’.

The question took you by surprise. It was so out of the blue and even more so out of character for Stan to be so straight-forward. You blinked delicately before shrugging your shoulders at him.

‘Do you want the honest answer or the answer that you want to hear from me?’ You pressed, speaking so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

He glanced swiftly over you for a second before responding, ‘Honest.’

It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting Stan to want that answer but the fact that you had to admit it to yourself now, let alone to Stan, was enough to make you faint from nerves.

You looked away from Stan and fiddled with your fingers as you spoke in hushed tones. ‘I envy you. You have better grades, better looks, better charisma, better music taste, better style... a better life. You are better than me in every way. And I despise you for it.’

A masked look of shock ghosted over Stan’s face before it was replaced once again with a stony expression. He sat up straight so that your knees were touching and he placed a hand on the centre of your thigh.

You looked up at him and connected with his gorgeous hazel eyes. He ran his tongue quickly over his lips before his eyes locked onto yours. ‘Now, we both know that’s not true.’

It was as if your body was moving with a mind of its own. Slowly, you were leaning in towards Stan as if you were magnetised to him and to be too far would hurt you in unimaginable ways. ‘How do you mean?’ You breathily responded, your heart pulsing rapidly.

He was so close to you now that you felt his breath against your lips. ‘Because I envy you ten times more.’ And with that closing sentence you felt his lips crash immediately into yours.

All the tension from the last few days swarmed around you both like a storm of arousal and need. His kiss was passionate and rough as he pressed his lips into yours with so much want but his hand on your leg was gentle and sweet as he caressed your inner thigh gently with his thumb.

The constant nagging of your brain screaming at you ‘Don’t sleep with Stan’ was shoved into the back of your mind falling to deaf ears as Stan moved his hand ever so slightly higher up your leg, falling to play with the hem of your dress as he detached his lips from yours to suck on your collarbone with the obvious attempt of planting a hickey.

Stan skillfully moved you both up to the headboard so that he could deepen the passion of your kiss and you quickly maneuvered yourself so that you were now straddling his lap.

His growing erection pressed into your centre as he trailed his smooth hands down to the flesh of your hips, his lips dragging down your jaw to find solace in the crook of your neck.

You felt like you were on fire, Stan’s touch was magnetic and no matter how you’d been trying to resist him, it was impossible. You were addicted to how he made you feel.

Neediness began to bubble through your tummy and you could tell Stan was feeling the same way as his hands were digging into your hips harder than before. Then, his hands began to carefully drag your hips across his hardness, slowly at first.

You could feel every bump of his length through his thin sweatpants and your hands moved down his toned body to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt.

His hands began to move faster, dragging your thin panties over his hard, clothed dick. He detatched his lips from your neck when you began to let out tiny, little moans of pleasure, thankful for the little bits of stimulation Stan was feeding you.

His eyes trailed down your body, admiring every single bump and curve: the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, your soaking panties rubbing against him as his hands moulded perfectly with the fat of your hips. They then fell on your face, growing darker at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows, messy hair and plump, red lips from you biting down too hard on them.

Likewise, you were admiring Stan, his sharp jawline clenching and unclenching every time you dragged yourself over his most sensitive spots, his hair uncharacteristically messy from your hands tugging on his curls. He noticed your movements speeding up and he flashed you a dangerous grin; a grin that would make even the biggest prude on the planet drop her panties to her knees.

Acknowledging your shaky hands still fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, he slowed the movement of your hips with his strong hands and dragged you painfully slow now, refusing to let you continue with the rapid pace you’d set before.

“You want this off, baby?” referring to his t-shirt. You nodded shyly, hands still fiddling with the hem.

“Want me to take it off for you? Are you too dumb to do it yourself?” He stared up at you with a patronising look on his face. You groaned annoyedly, but deep down your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

“Just take it off Stan, don’t be a dick.” You glared down at him but your glare immediately switched to a look of shock as Stan’s hands had stopped your hips moving completely now, denying you any release that you were desperately craving.

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he tutted at your lack of control. “Now, that’s no way to ask for what we want is it, sweetheart?” The corner of his lips tugged up satisfactorily as he took in your menacing glare, but also your glossed over eyes indicating your desperation for his cock.

‘Oh, how cute,’ Stan thought pityingly. ‘The poor, little slut’s already gone dumb and I haven’t even fucked her yet.’

You breathed through your nostrils fiercely before succumbing to the begging of your aching clit and gave Stan your best doe eyes before tugging pathetically at the hem of Stan’s crumpled shirt. ‘Please take it off Stan, I’ll do anything, please..’ You pressed down on his length for extra measure just to make sure he would give you what you needed.

A low hum of appreciation mixed with a strangled groan of pleasure escaped Stan’s throat and he mulled it over for a few seconds with that irritating smirk plastered on his face before nodding, clearly satisfied with your begging before he lifted his slender fingers to his collar and removed his shirt - finally.

You took a moment to appreciate the art that was Stanley Uris' abs and sighed contentedly. It seemed your hands had a mind of their own as you wasted no time in rubbing your hands up and down his beautiful torso, gliding over the valleys and hills of his defined muscles.

"Enjoying yourself there, princess?" Stan chimed, clearly cocky that you'd spent about 30 seconds just groping him absentmindedly.

Tearing your eyes away, you glanced up at Stanley's face, adorned with a shit-eating smirk, one of his hands resting behind his head, the other still gripping the fat of your hip, rubbing gentle circles into your flesh.

Slightly embarrassed but, nevertheless, growing quite needy now, you rolled your eyes.

Eyes narrowing at the evil spawn, you thought 'The ego of this man is absolutely atrocious. How dare he try and make fun of me for admiring his physique when if I decided to strip naked right now, his reaction would probably beat mine.'

And then it clicked.

Focusing back on Stanley's disgustingly smug face, you did something you'd never done for Stanley Uris in your entire life.

You gave him a real genuine smile.

The apples of your cheeks beamed down at him and your eyes sparkled lovingly at the boy who was now slightly confused and, albeit, a little bit scared.

Slowly, you leaned down over Stan so your breath tickled his nose and your lips brushed gently against his, just in time to see his cheeks tinge red and his eyes flutter closed, like a naïve teenage girl who was experiencing her first kiss.

Aw, how cute.

Finally, you pressed your lips to Stanley's, so softly Stan thought he might've been kissing a cloud, and just left them there, in a gentle peck, before sitting up again to admire the look of bliss on Stan's face.

His eyes were fluttering open again and his breathing was shallow but fast.

This was the real face of Stan; he had finally taken off his mask for you.

He was so pretty, obviously you knew that already, but you couldn't get lost in his beauty again or your plan wouldn't work.

Then, when he dazedly smiled up at you and made to pull your head down so he could kiss you again, you teasingly began to lift up the hem of your dress until it had been lifted over your head and discarded somewhere on Stan's bedroom floor.

There you sat, on Stanley's clothed, throbbing cock, in just your white silk panties, the little bow just oh so enticing, and your bare, perky breasts on display for Stanley's greedy eyes.

His lips parted ever so slightly as he not-so-discreetly took in a sharp intake of breath. His eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed chest, and you knew you had him when his needy little hands reached up to thumb your erect nipples.

Arrogantly, you smirked down at him, your sweet, loving smile erased. However, Stan failed to notice, too enamoured by your naked body, like a toddler in a candy store.

"Aw, you're like a needy, little puppy, aren't you Stanny?" Your heart beat fast as you finally dropped the sentence you'd been waiting to release since Stan's cocky demeanour had surfaced.

Stan froze as he realised what you had done and his jaw clenched automatically, clearly embarrassed that he had let you entice him just how he had you not even a few minutes ago.

Narrowed eyes were glaring into yours and your confident façade faltered slightly as you realised how deep in shit you were now.

He was gonna ruin you.

However, Stan didn't flip you over dominantly so he was on top of you, or rip your panties off in anger like you had expected him to.

Gradually, he eased himself up his headboard so his back was resting comfortably against it and so the two of you were eye-level, 'innocent' doe-eyes levelled with furious, narrowed eyes.

His hands gently gripped you hips and moved you a little further up his chest, so he could remove his sweatpants, so slow and so patient you were so confused.

He looked deadly, that's for sure. But you'd expected him to be rough with you, teach you a lesson for being so naughty. All in all, other than being clearly vexed, he was treating you like you were a china doll.

As soon as his sweatpants and boxers were discarded, he moved you back to your old spot on his lap and carefully caressed your hips, his thumbs hooking under the straps of your thong and pulling at the sides, fiddling with them gently while intently drilling into your eyes with his own.

"You wanna be in control, huh, sweetheart?" He muttered so quiet you could barely hear but so full of malice your heart immediately sped up.

You had no idea what to say. No, you didn't wanna be in control. You wanted Stan to bend and contort you into any position he wanted, you wanted him to fuck your cunt until you couldn't even form a coherent word, you wanted him to paint the canvas of your body purple, pink and black, in the form of hickeys, bruises and mascara stains.

And you knew he knew that.

You knew by the look on his face, the restraint in his jaw, the rage in his eyes that he definitely did not want that either.

So why was he doing this?

Just as your brows started to furrow in confusion, Stan's thumb had started to rub harsh but deliberate circles over your clothed clit and you let out a gasp.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, furrowing his brows in faux confusion. "Is that... not what you want, baby? You see, I'm just a needy little puppy, right?" He spat at you, evidently fuming but clearly enjoying seeing you in such a state.

You shook your head and dropped your it onto Stan's shoulder, moaning softly as he used one hand to hook your panties to the side while the other found your soaking wet hole and gently inserted two very long fingers.

But, immediately he removed them.

Your head shot up in irritation but you relaxed and hummed contentedly as you realised that Stan was finally lining himself up with your entrance.

You lifted yourself up slightly to make room for his 'oh my god that's scarily big why am i only just noticing this' cock, fluttered your eyelashes closed, and waited for the stretch of him pushing up into you... but it never came.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Stan's eyes, still level with yours, looking bored and his hands, once again, behind his head, biceps flexed and causing a big distraction for you.

He looked at you pointedly, but, realising you still didn't get it, rolled his eyes and motioned for you to sit on his cock.

At this point, you would've jumped off a cliff if Stan asked you to if it meant he would grant you some form of release, so you carefully began to lower yourself down onto his tree-trunk of a dick, the stretch of it stinging slightly but the depth of it stimulating you in all the right ways.

You let out a guttural moan as you sat on the base, his cock bottomed out inside of you. You gripped Stan's toned shoulders with force and wiggled about slightly, trying to adjust to this new, amazing feeling and, as you wiggled, you noticed a slight tremor in his mask as his jaw clenched and his eyebrows briefly furrowed in pleasure.

But, as quickly as it faltered, it reappeared and Stan's stoic, unimpressed gaze fell on you once again.

"Well?" He rasped, as if what he wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're in control, right, babe? I'm not moving a muscle."

You knew immediately that he was not kidding, so you bottled up the impatience you had for this stupid, stubborn man and put your game face on.

You could get off without help from Stan, of course you could. You didn't need his touch when you could do a perfectly good job with your hips and your hands.

'Fine.' You thought, glaring at Stan with pure hatred in your eyes. 'Suit yourself.'

So you began to move up and down on Stanley's cock, feeling every vein and twitch as you dragged your walls all over his length, coating it in your slick.

You gripped Stan's flexed biceps, his arms unmoving from behind his head as his eyes flickered between watching your face slowly morph into a dreamy, fucked-out expression, soft, pretty moans escaping from your parted lips every time the tip of his cock would prod at your g-spot, and watching your glistening, stretched out cunt swallow up his length, each time producing more and more slick so every time you slammed back down on his base, you could hear a squelching noise.

The only sign Stan was giving away of him holding any emotion was the twitch of his jaw and brow growing more frequent as the speed of your bounces grew quicker and harsher.

Soon, your bounces grew erratic as you craved your release, the only noises in his room being your desperate whimpers of pleasure, the sound of your wetness, and skin slapping on skin, along with the occasional grunt of approval from Stan.

However, you started to grow tired and out of breath as it had been nearly 5 minutes of you bouncing up and down on Stan's length, with no help from him and your determination to beat Stan at his own game was overwhelmed by your desperation to cum, and you knew you had to admit defeat because you were never gonna cum if you carried on like this.

Reluctantly, you sank down onto Stan and stilled with him deep inside you as you breathed heavily and whimpered with the desperation to cum deep in your tummy, your clit throbbing, begging for release.

Stan's furrowed face quickly changed to that of faux sympathy as he moved his hands to rest on your waist, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. "Oh baby, are you tired? Do you need my help?" He asked, patronising you just a little bit further by stretching out 'need' just to annoy you.

You had no time to be annoyed, however, because you could feel your release creeping just that little bit further away from the loss of stimulation, so you nodded your head frantically, practically begging Stanley to help you with your pathetic little doe eyes, glossy and desperate.

"Please, Stanny, please I need it, I need you, just please make me cum." You whined, your lips ghosting his ear, and gently kissing his cheek just for good measure.

That was all Stan needed to hear as he grabbed your neck, squeezing gently as he brought your face back to his and kissed you harshly, bruising your lips with his teeth as he dragged your lip with him, pulling away, and then releasing it.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it!" He smiled gently at you, pecking your plump, red lips and squeezing your neck in approval, before he moved his hands back to your waist, his grip turning nasty and he lifted you up right to his tip, then plunging his hips upwards into yours.

You choked on your moan from the sheer force of his thrust but soon gained your voice back as he continued his rough, rapid thrusting up into your eager pussy, practically dripping, begging for a long overdue orgasm.

You collapsed your tired aching body on top of Stan, your head buried in his neck, muffling your high-pitched moans from the ears of your drunk parents downstairs.

Stan moved his hands down to your ass and gripped the flesh harshly and his thrusts were slamming repeatedly into a spot that made you clench fiercely down on him and shriek with overwhelming pleasure.

Stan groaned into your ear as you continually clenched around him, whispering filthy praises into your ear making your legs tremble and your stomach flip as your impending orgasm was getting closer and closer.

"Can you hear yourself, princess? Can you hear the noises your pretty pussy is making?" The squelching of your wetness was embarrassing to say the least and you could feel Stan smirking without even having to look at him.

As he kept hitting that same spot, you could feel yourself so close to the edge as your legs trembled and your moans grew louder and higher.

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna come, Stanny." You managed to babble out through your whimpers as you felt that overwhelming rush of pleasure build up deep inside you.

Stan lifted your head up and grabbed it with both of his hands whilst still thrusting repeatedly in and out of your sopping cunt, forcing you to look into his eyes.

He had a look of pure concentration adorning his face, brows furrowed, jaw clenched and hair messy, letting out little breathy moans of his own every now and then.

"That's it princess, I wanna see that pretty face when you come all over my cock." And the coil snapped.

You let out a scream of pleasure as your entire body jolted, your orgasm washing over you, your toes clenching and your pussy spasming around Stan's length.

You collapsed onto Stan once again, letting out tiny moans, clearly exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm Stanley had given you, and the spasming of your cunt had clearly not been lost on him as his relentless thrusting had begun to grow sloppy.

Stan was moaning quite loudly in your ear now, a death-grip on your ass cheeks as he fucked up into you, chasing his own high.

You knew he needed a little push so you sat up slightly so you could whisper in his ear breathy and raspy like someone who was recovering from one of the best orgasms they'd ever had in their life, "I want you to come inside me."

The words that make every man orgasm on the spot did not lose their effect on Stan as he let out a loud groan of ecstasy and his thrusts slowed until they came to a stop, clearly having done what you asked.

He dropped his forehead to yours and grabbed your hands, fiddling with them as you both caught your breath.

Holy shit.

You didn't know what to do as you both just lay there gathering your thoughts, attempting to comprehend what just happened.

However, you knew you couldn't stay in this post-orgasmic bubble forever so you gently lifted yourself off of Stan's softening dick and got up to look for your dress.

You were halted, however by a hand closing around your wrist.

Turning around, Stan was lazily grinning up at you with a look of victory on his face as he was dragging you to lie back down on the bed with him and you couldn't help but smile back at him, full of a mysterious feeling for the boy who was just so beautiful.

How could you say no?

Climbing back into bed with him, you both turned to face each other, him still grinning at you, and you studying each and every freckle and blemish on his skin, realising that you loved each and every one of them.

You loved them.

Oh my god.

You loved Stan.

Suddenly, you burst out laughing and Stan jumped slightly before a grin erupted back onto his face as he asked what was so funny.

You managed to get through your laughter, barely, the words that you never thought you'd say in your life. "I- I'm in love - with - with you." Before you immediately started giggling again uncontrollably.

Stan joined in on your laughter, his shoulders moving up and down from the force of his laughs as he breathed out "I'm in love with you too."

You both laid there giggling uncontrollably like a pair of middle schoolers, laughing at your own stupidity.

Once the laughter died down you smiled up at Stan and nuzzled yourself into his chest, planting a few soft kisses there as he pulled you in closer and buried his nose into your hair.

You were drawing shapes on his arms, daydreaming in the comfortable silence when you heard Stan mutter into your hair something inaudible.

You sat up gently looking at him quizzically for a second until you noticed the look of pure adoration on his face that was directed to you before he said gravelly and clearly exhausted, "I hate you so much." before he buries his face into your neck and peppered you with kisses.

You giggled and whispered, "I love you too, stupid."

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minamartin · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 4 - Will He Be Okay?

Thank you guys for all the likes and reblogs! I also would appreciate your comments below. It would be nice to know, what you guys think about the story, the characters. As always, i appreciate everyone who is interested in this little story. I try upload a chapter every week, but sometimes it takes a little longer.

Rating : Mature, NSFW

Warnings : Mentions of smut - not the complete thing though just yet, Mentions of physical abuse, Mentions of psychological abuse, Trigger warning for people who feel sensitive about cancer.

Stella, who long minutes before was still in a panicked state, started feeling simply anxious as she drove onto the familiar street. She had no idea what she was doing here instead of the police station. That's where she should've gone. They should handle this! But she just couldn't escape her meeting with Vince or her own thoughts. Because ever since Robert mentioned him going to jail, she couldn't answer a simple question: – Who called the police?!

She stopped before the all too familiar house and pulled the handbrakes in front of the closed garage door. She didn't turn off the engine. She glanced at the garage door and dark windows. Maybe he is not even home!

She started banging on the door ferociously in the hopes that he would open the door and she wouldn't have to start thinking about turning to the police. She continued her efforts, until she saw light behind one of the windows. The lock on the door clanked, and there was Benny. With a little bit of messed up hair, shirtless in his black boxer briefs, but with an awake and way too alert gaze. Stella felt windswept for a few seconds when she caught sight of the abs she haven't seen on him before. She gave herself a second as she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her mouth started moving as well.

"This was your idea? Hiding that shit on the farm?!"

Benny's face showed his confusion. "You know i'm not good at trivia!"

"Drugs, Benny!" Stella yelled.

Benny didn't exactly have many neighbors, but he was a little concerned about the volume of Stella's voice. He grabbed her upper arm, and with a peaceful intent but firm grip, yanked her close to his chest and stepped inside his house, dragging her in as well. He flicked the light on the wall, and the foyer lit up. "What are you talking about?"

Stella violently pulled out her arm from Benny's grasp and started walking up and down in the small foyer. Benny listened to her panting and watched as she put her palm on her forehead as she tried to calm herself down in front of his confused gaze.

"I was at the farm. The new owners wanted to know something about some water pipes. I remembered something, and i walked off the road towards the tree line, all the way to the fence. And then, at the foot of a fucking tree, there is a giant spot of wet dirt. I started to look, maybe a water pipe broke...whatever, im thinking if i showed them where it was, they would leave me alone." Stella rambled on in a firm, categorical tone. "And what i've found, is a pack of carefully wrapped something, that has this card on it!" Stella pulled out the card from her jeans back pocket.

Benny took the card between his long fingers, and one look was enough. It was the Ghoul's symbol. A hooded monster figure with a cane in its hand. Benny's bare foot thumped through the silence of the house. Stella leaned back against the first wall she found. Panic and anxiety started to attack her again. She had no clue why she was even here. She should've gone to the police! It was their job to deal with this!

In the dimly lit hallway, Stella saw Benny's tall frame approaching. In one hand he was holding his boots, and with the other, he was dragging a black t-shirt onto his muscular torso. Stella's stressed out, dry mouth started to water, and she nervously watched as he stepped into his boots, and grabbed his keys, and led her out of the house. "Show me where you've found this!" He opened the garage and grabbed a shovel, then closed the garage just like the house.

Benny stopped beside the open door of the passenger seat in her car. She stood frozen beside the garage, staring in front of herself. "Stella!" Benny's voice got through the fog in her brain. "Get in!" He reminded her that she was still standing in front of the garage, staring into the void. She hesitantly walked back to her car and got into the driver seat. She drove without a word throughout the entire way.

Stella slowly stopped the car and glanced towards the glove compartment, but she would not dare reach towards it. Benny's lap and arms were too close to it. She swallowed hard and said "There is a flashlight in...in the glove box!" She stuttered and opened the door and got out of the car, running her eyes through the thick tree line. She saw Benny getting out as well and grabbing the shovel from under the back seat.

Stella grew more nervous than when she was here alone. Benny turned on the flashlight and waited for Stella to lead the way. She heard Benny's steps behind her, but she also felt his presence. When she stopped in her tracks, Benny lightly bumped into her back. Her breath hitched as she felt his hips bump into her lower back and behind. She moved instinctively. Her right arm reached back and sideways. Gently grabbing his wrist and lifting it. Her fingers couldn't even form a complete hold on his whole wrist.

Benny shivered at her touch. Goosebumps covered his arm, and the pleasant, electric feeling quickly traveled down to his groin area. He wanted to stay like this forever. He wanted to toss away the shovel and the light and wrap both of his hands around her instead.

Stella had to concentrate and put significant willpower into moving away from his body. She felt like a magnet, trying and managing to break the laws of physics. Her body felt like it belonged to Benny's, and it was unnatural to try to get away from him. Her body was resisting it, but her mind was still relatively clear from his influence.

Benny realized the spot that Stella's was directing the light toward. He gave the flashlight to her. Their fingers brushed together, and their gazes found each other's. They both felt that unexplainable feeling that caused them to stir under their skin.

Stella glanced away.

Benny forced himself to focus on digging.

"Careful!" Stella warned him. "The one i've found, i didn't bury deep!"

Benny quickly found the first one. More precisely, the shovel did. It cut it in half. White powder was mixed into the dirt. He continued digging and sweeping the dirt away. Stella nervously held the flashlight as Benny dug and dug. In the poor light, she was still able to see the muscles in his arms working. Her mouth started to water again, and a familiar throbbing and pulsating feeling started to make itself obvious at the center of her groin.

Her sane mind mocked her body. She was standing on someone else's property in the middle of the night while Benny was digging up illegal drugs that she had found earlier, and she was turned on by the sight of his muscular arms. She clenched her jaws and swallowed nervously. She kept the flashlight on the spot, but she forced her eyes away. She contemplated returning to her therapist. It seemed like her money was thrown out, because she is officially and without a doubt insane!

"Twelve packs. Counting the ripped one too." Benny broke the silence.

Stella noticed he hadn't even broken a sweat. His breath wasn't even hitching or becoming ragged, despite the obviously hard labor he was doing continuously without stopping.

"This at least worth a million!" Benny said it firmly, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Can we just get out of here? I mean...if this worth that much, someone must be nearby to keep an eye on it!" Stella asked, tip-toeing nervously and running the flashlight through the trees, keeping an ear out for suspicious noises around them.

"Whoever buried this thought that no one would find it. You left five years ago, the farm was abandoned, so he used it to stash this. Now that it is sold, soon he will be looking for this." Said Benny, grabbing as many packs as he could with his hands and glanced at her. "Bring the shovel, would ya'?!"

Stella grabbed up the tool and followed Benny, directing the light in front of their feet. Stella turned off the flashlight when they reached the car and watched wordlessly as Benny shoved the packs under her front seats. Stella's mind was attacked by doubt. "It wasn't you...was it?!" Stella felt ashamed asking this out loud, but she also felt distrustful. Towards everyone. Even him.

Benny felt like acid was flung onto his skin and soul.

"Are you serious?" Benny's back straightened up, standing beside the car.

"Do i look like i'm joking?!" Stella scoffed.

Benny flunged the car door in and with a few long strides, closed the distance between themselves. His tall and broad frame towered over her, and his angry gaze was burning her eyes, but she held her ground and did not back down an inch.

"No, Stella! I did not hide drugs on your farm!"

Stella glanced down.

"Is this what you thought of me? Someone who would do something like this?"

Benny's tone was clearly saddened.

"I don't know what to think anymore. About anyone." Stella's voice was weak and sad, her gaze was distant. She felt lost. Lost in her life, lost in her thoughts, lost in her feelings, lost in her decisions.

Benny softly grabbed her face, directing her eyes onto his face.

"You can trust me!" He said.

Stella was barely able to look at him, let alone find her voice.

But eventually she did.

"I trusted you." She said it in a matter of fact way. "And then what happened?!"

Benny felt like a knife had slashed through his heart.

"I-im..." He started stuttering. "I'm sorry about your father."

Stella glanced aside.

"I'm not talking about my fucking father!" She said it with weak anger.

Stella gently removed his hands from her face, and with tired movements, walked back to the car. She had a hard time not starting to cry. She never loved her father because she was never even close to him. The closest she got to him were his hands and feet. When she pretended like he wasn't even there, she wished he would fucking die already before he killed her. She had a hard time admitting it even to herself, but she felt relief when she heard he died, and it made her feel like she was a bad person. Yet, she couldn't lie to herself.

When Robert told her the truth that Carly tried to hide from her, that relief was gone in an instant. Because when she thought about the price of her father's death, was not simply the insignificant price of an incineration, but Benny's freedom. The men's, who's name would have been written beside the definition of freedom in a dictionary. The men who meant more to her than that miserable excuse of a father ever did. And that made her feel like fuming with anger, because the price of her freedom from her father's abuse was never Benny's to pay, it was hers. She should have been able to rescue herself like Carly did. Simply just give up and leave. Cut ties, forget, and move on completely alone in the world.

Stella's tired eyes glanced aside at Benny, who sat back in the passenger seat.

His eyes darted downward in defeat.

Stella started the engine and drove themselves, and the heavy silence that swept between them as a ghost, back to Benny's house.

She stopped before the garage.

"I never asked you to kill him! I never would have asked that!"

Stella felt if she doesn't say this out loud, it would poison her from inside.

"You never should've and i would have done it anyway!" Benny said quietly.

"His life never worth as much as your freedom!" Stella said it in a trembling voice.

"No, but yours did!" Benny's voice was stern.

Stella kept her thoughts to herself, and they quickly got rerouted.

"Vince stopped me yesterday." She said.

"Yeah, he told me." Benny said, and he felt nervous in his stomach. He wanted a smoke, but if he got out to get them from his bedroom, he was sure Stella would be gone by the time he came back with them.

"And you figured out yet who called the police on you?" Stella asked.

"No." Benny felt shame because of his own inadequacy.

Stella looked at him, and her eyes continued to study his face.

Benny felt as if the sun had come up this very night and warmed his face.

"You might want to give a call to your big boobed blonde friend!" Stella's voice was serious, but her gaze was a little bit sarcastic.

Benny rolled his eyes and slightly shook his head as he looked out the window. He didn't want to hear about it anymore. He had Vince to remind him about that, now he had Stella to rub salt into the still rotting wound, and he had his own fucking memories of that event.

"However it sounds, Benny, i'm serious!" Stella pressed on this opinion of hers.

Benny's brows raised upwards as he fully turned his torso in the seat towards Stella. "What do you mean?" He asked with curious eyes.

"Well...i have less to go on than you. I didn't see anyone around the farm, but i wasn't exactly in the mood to notice any fucking thing if it had not jumped in front of my car that night...so it is possible that someone was there in the dark, only i didn't noticed him...or her." She entertained and voiced her own thoughts on this matter, except some of her feelings of anger seeped through. "And we never had anyone in that house, so it was just my father, me when i arrived, and apparently you when you arrived. The only person who wasn't in the house but had awareness or guesses where you might be going after you left your own house, would be your blonde friend!"

Benny remained quiet while looking at and away from Stella's face as the gears of his mind worked hard. "She could've called someone." Benny's voice was barely audible as he looked out the window.

"Exactly. It doesn't matter if someone was at the farm or not, all it took was the knowledge...of who i was and where you might be going! She saw me there, i don't think she was working at NASA, but i'm pretty sure she was able to put two and two together and make a call when you left her in your house or made her leave, whatever!"

Stella saw a muscle strain in Benny's jaw. She glanced out her side of the window. Benny in an angered state was not a nice or safe environment for anyone, especially the one person who angered him. Yet, she didn't grow nervous or fearful while sitting in her seat. "You took her home from the bar?"

"Yeah." He said shamefully.

"I've never seen her around there. I mean the bar." She said.

"You remember every single one of them who walked in?" Benny scoffed with a smile.

"Yes, Benny. I remember most of them." Stella said it with a sad tone. She started to count and recognize each one that walked into the Pit and she especially took notice of the ones that shamelessly eyed Benny, either from a distance or up close, despite her sometimes standing right next to him. They could not care. They thought they would be better, or he could do better. And despite Benny sometimes throwing a few flirty lines towards them, he always returned home with her behind him on his bike and holding her close to him in his bed. But that didn't make Stella less anxious. Benny was free as a bird. If he wanted to fly off, there was nothing she could do about it.

Stella saw a few that made her a little bit jealous and insecure, but given it was a small town, the selection of those was not overwhelming, thankfully. But in the end, it didn't even matter.

Stella's buzzing phone grabbed both of their attention.

Benny saw a picture on her phone as her caller's background. A brown haired, smiling man held her in front of him with his hands on her stomach. The name on the screen was Sebastian. Stella grabbed the phone quickly and answered it. "Yes?!"

Benny concentrated heavily, but he could not hear the man she was talking to.

Stella was aware of Benny's presence, but she listened to Sebastian so she could put the phone down as quickly as she could. "I will have a long night. If i should sleep in, could you pick up my dry cleaning tomorrow morning?" Sebastian asked.

"Of course."

"Thank you. Also, you had a big package this early afternoon." He added.

"Probably the fabrics." Stella said quietly.

"Okay. I made a hotel reservation in San Francisco for the weekend, if you don't have any plans, we could go together. There are a few new restaurants that could be interesting." He added.

"I don't know. I probably don't have anything."

"Okay. We should talk about it tomorrow." He said.

"Okay, we will."

"Okay. Bye." Sebastian put down the phone, and so did Stella.

A sigh erupted from Stella as she glanced at the clock on the dash.

"Boyfriend?" Benny asked with a hint of fury and poison in his voice.

"Yes." Stella said it quietly, like she just insulted him on some level.

Benny's right hand clenched up into a fist between his seat and the door, invisible to Stella's eyes. He felt his jaw tense up so bad, as if he were getting ready to tank a punch. He wanted to throw punches at this very moment. His mind went to wild places with unwanted pictures. Someone else touching and kissing Stella. Her naked breasts touching someone else's chest, not his. He needed a cigarette, or better yet, someone to punch to relieve his anger and frustration. Instead, he just took a deep breath through his nose.

"What is he doing? I mean, what's his job?" Benny couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"I don't want to talk about it. Him." Stella said quietly. "And you shouldn't be asking questions about him. You should be asking questions to Johnny, so you might get out of this alive!" Stella added and took a deep breath through her nose. It was a mistake. Her car's air refreshener was weaker than Benny's scent. Her naked, dirt covered toes curled in her sandals.

"How the fuck do i know if it wasn't him?" Benny asked in an angered tone.

"Johnny?!" It was Stella's turn to get louder and frustrated at him. "Benny, the only person from that club, besides Vince, that i'm sure hasn't had any hand in what happened to you, is Johnny! He is a proud, egotistic, violent asshole, but you always were like a son to him, and i don't think that type of thing changes so easily, if ever!" Stella said it with firm conviction.

"I haven't realized you paid so much attention." Benny said, scoffing.

Stella felt furious.

"I did, Benny! I always did! I couldn't give a shit about that club, and if the majority of those dudes were to catch fire, i wouldn't as much as spit on them, but it was important to you! They were important to you, so i paid attention! And i think it's safe to say that at this point you probably arrived to the conclusion, that you always cared more about them than they ever did about you! Save Vince, again. And Johnny, probably." Stella's voice softened when she mentioned Vince, but it had a sour sting and a hint of unsureness in it when she added Johnny.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, princess, but not all of us grew up in a nice home with parents who took care of our needs! Some of us, you know...had to find our own family where we could belong. So yeah, they were important to me!" Benny said it in an accusatory tone.

A loud and painful sound escaped Stella's throat.

"You, out of all people should know that my home was nothing sort of nice, so keep your taunts for someone else, who you think had such a nice life! And if that's the way you think of them, nice fucking family you have found! Setting you up and sending you to jail for whatever reason you were inconvenient to them!"

"Says the girl who's own father used her as his fucking punching bag!"

Both of them started to feel as if the car was a sardine box around them.

"You know what...i felt like i owed you for what you did for me, so i figured i'd give you advice, but if you don't want it, you might as well get out! Or better yet! I'll drive you to the Pit myself if you are so eager to defend those who stabbed you in the back! This time, they'll probably be content with just stabbing you up front. Literally!"

Benny couldn't listen to this anymore, and with a sarcastic and mean laugh he got out and taking a glance around the street, making sure no one was around, started to get the packs out from under the seats and load them into his garage until he figured out where to actually hide them or what to do with them.

Stella got out of the car because she felt like she will burn up inside. She started pacing up and down beside the car with crossed arms at her chest. She moved her top away and back to her skin, using it as a fan. Her skin was burning, her lips were trembling and she still had Benny's scent up in her nose.

Benny had thrown away his self control and the shovel in his hand with it. It loudly clanked and thumped on the dark garage floor as he angrily stomped over to Stella, who realized she got stuck between her car and Benny. "Why did you even tell me about this? Hm? Why didn't you just go to the fucking police if you loathe me this much?!" His voice was frustrated, his eyes were glassy, and his face looked more vulnerable than ever. Even just hearing the word loathe me broke Stella's soul to pieces, but all this together...she couldn't hold all of her emotions anymore. She had to let out some before they made her explode.

Her hand flung and she slapped Benny in the face. The sound had echoed between them for a long second as Benny's head turned in the direction of the weak hit he got. His surprise wasn't visible because he felt like it was a long time coming and he deserved it. She couldn't believe this was her first reaction, nor the fact that he was this stupid!

"I don't loathe you, Benny!" Her voice was brittle. "I care about you! I don't want you to waste your life in prison or to...i don't...i don't want you to die!" Her face contorted, and her voice trembled and became high pitched for a second, holding herself back from crying.

Benny's newly found self control broke down. He forcefully grabbed Stella's face, and his mouth found her's like a magnet. Stella felt all her strength leave her in a second. Relief found them both, and their strained, quiet moans mixed up in the air before their next kiss. Stella's finger found the fabric of Benny's t-shirt and grabbed ahold of it for leverage. She was afraid that her legs will give out. Her whole body felt so hot, like it was burning, when Benny grabbed her ass to hold her closer. The desperation and need behind his kiss was overwhelming.

Stella felt all her thoughts go out the window with Benny's finger digging into her flesh. As his jeans clothed erection brushed against her, a helpless moan erupted from her mouth, going straight into his. Benny's kiss instinctively deepened, wanting more. His hand pulled her even closer. Stella pushed her weight a bit to her toes to reach a little bit higher to his face. Their noses bumped together, and his hot breath leaving his nose was radiating onto Stella's face, and the short beard around his lips was prickling her skin. His tongue was wandering in and out of her mouth, and she couldn't get enough of him!

"I'm not gonna die!" He whispered into her mouth, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. "I'm not gonna die, i promise!" He said it with a tense jaw and continued to kiss her in a much more tender, but not less passionate way. Stella felt her whole body go weak. Oxygen was rushing back into her brains as Benny's kisses started to become slower and more intimate. Her resolution was wearing thin as she felt his erection grow stonger and bigger.

Stella broke away by pulling her whole head backwards and then sideways.

"I need to go!" She breathed hard, and her voice was still weak with desire.

Benny extended his arms beside her head, holding onto the top of the car.

"Back to your boyfriend?!" He asked half accusatory, half heartbroken.

"Yes. Back to my boyfriend." Stella felt these words as a lie.

"Do you love him?" Benny asked moving his head along with hers, continuously looking for Stella's gaze as she was trying to avert it so she didn't have to look into his eyes. All it took was one long look into his eyes and another kiss, and she was lost.

"I'm with him, Benny." She said and she ducked down under his arm, but he was faster. His hand hooked onto her waist and pulled her back against himself, and kept her there. Stella had trouble breathing again, now, when she thought she just catched her breath.

"Do you love him?!" Benny's tone was more direct and right in her ear.

Stella felt weak in her bones from his voice alone. His palm was flat and gentle against her belly but still, he was the stronger one. As always. Stella felt as if the price to her freedom was a lie, so she was ready to say it.

"I loved you!" She wrestled off Benny's arm off herself. She received no resistance as she got into her car and drove off.

Many hours have passed since Stella arrived back at the apartment. She took a long shower, she washed her hair, she did her long skincare routine, and then she tried to sleep, but she couldn't. This is how she found herself above her sketchbook. She tried to add new pieces to her designs both on her computer and in her sketchbook. But her mind wasn't even near where it should have been. She was still thinking about Benny. And his kiss. And his touch. And his scent. And his scruff scratching against her skin.

She sat in her chair with a pencil in hand and tried to push her curiosity towards the dress she was intent on designing and making, but her memories kept vomiting up distracting images and sensory driven micro hallucinations.

She received Benny's touch in the past, she received his kisses. His cock was in her more times than she would be able to admit without feeling shame. At one point in that summer, she kept thinking both of them should get help, because they couldn't remain fully clothed for more than a few hours. There wasn't a minute when his hands weren't on her body somewhere. It could have been her back, waist, hips, face or just her shoulder or hair. He never let her go further than his arms could reach her and she didn't want to be far away from him either.

Stella's frustrated huff was the only noise in her spacious closet room, which she used as an office as well. Her own clothes, her dressing table, and her tools and fabrics for designs were here as well. But no matter how many small things were laying around, serving as a reminder of what she came here to do, she could not think clearly or remain focused. The only thing she was able to consciously do was rubbing her thighs together and hope that the arousal will go away on its own, like it did many times before.

She glanced down at the box of fabrics. Sebastian receiving the huge package made her think of him. She could not make sense of it all. She couldn't even fathom how it started and had gone as long as it did. Two years. Sometimes she wondered and tried to remember the exact moment she decided that whatever Sebastian was able or willing to provide would be enough for her.

She met him for the very first time she ever went to a farmers market. It was an entirely new experience for her. Sebastian was selecting vegetables at the same seller she was standing in front of. She was taking a closer look at the weird shaped tomatoes, which she had never seen before. Sebastian said only one word – heirloom tomatoes. He started telling her about them and offered to tell her more if she was curious. And she was. But more so about the handsome man, who knew more than her.

They went to have lunch on their first date. And then they went to many dates in restaurants, cafes, bakeries, museums, and Sebastian's apartment. The very first time she was about to have sex with him, she was just as nervous as when she was before her first time with Benny, only for an entirely different reason.

This time, her body had way more scars than before. Even though the plastic surgeon and her dermatologist did the best they could, she was still really insecure about her scars. She would prefer all of them to be gone and not simply minimized. The biggest and deepest one was on her right side, where the surgeon made the incision to save her from internal bleeding. It has whitened and thinned out, but was visible from a close distance and also a little bit noticeable by touch. The older and more uglier ones were on her back. These were the ones from her father's belt, and they also whitened and thinned out, but were clearly touchable. One on the outer side of her left breast was simply visible up close but not touchable. This was from a cut, that she got when she tried to run from her father, and she had fallen onto some broken glass and porcelain, without having a bra on. Her breast grew along with it into adulthood, stretching it longer than it was before.

The first few times Sebastian didn't even notice her scars because they only had sex with the lights off. They only had sex in broad daylight once, when Sebastian saw her scars and didn't seem to be enthusiastic to have sex with her in visible conditions again. Then after a while, he didn't seem interested in having sex with her at all. Stella grew to accept it as time passed. She didn't try to initiate it and so far the two years into their relationship, she could count on one hand, how many times she was able to reach an orgasm or was simply shown a little affection through physical touch.

She tried to look back to find the reason he lost interest in her, or when did she lost the courage to try to reach out to him. Or maybe they simply both lost interest in each other. Or they never had it in the first place. They were just two people who didn't know how to connect to people, and gaining knowledge of this fact about each other, they made a wordless agreement to simply keep each other company, so neither of them have to be completely alone nor will they have to feel awkward about not feeling the need or not having the ability to go deeper into this relationship.

Stella knew that Sebastian entertained himself with other women with whom he could find common ground with regards to sex, but nothing else. He was subtle and tried to remain respectful towards her about it – never bringing a woman to their shared bed or apartment, never taking such a woman's calls in front of her, never appearing in public with another woman other than her. On the other hand, he kept Stella as a dutiful actress who played the part of an intelligent, well read, well behaved, beautiful prop that could appear on his side in certain public events, but he expected nothing else from her.

She tried to reach out to him many times in the first few months of their relationship, but she kept hitting brick walls. On rare occasions when they sat on the couch at the same time, Stella would sit very close to him, trying to go in for a cuddle or just waiting for an extended arm or a hand on her thigh, but never got anything. A hug from behind at the kitchen counter or a kiss on the cheek never happened.

On the other hand, he was very generous and affectionate in public places. Kisses on the cheek, holding her close while standing in line at a bakery, walking the streets of foreign cities while holding hands, hugging each other for a photo. These were the only occassions on which Stella would get any physical affection from Sebastian.

Stella felt like her whole relationship was a big theater, and she was playing a role in her own life, instead of living it. Playing the pretty girlfriend in pretty clothes, with impeccable manners and a gentle, polite personality who Sebastian could introduce to his colleagues and acquaintances and receive compliments. She never complained about anything, at least not out loud. She never had a problem when Sebastian planned their vacations without her having a word on where they are going, where they would be sleeping, or what sights they saw, what restaurants they visited. She just went along, paid her part, and pretended to be happy in a different place.

She lived more in the month she spent with Benny that summer than she ever did in her whole life, and not a single second was spent pretending. She couldn't wait to wake up in the morning and spend the entire day with him. She had seen some stuff from the scarier side of life, but never for a second did she feel unsafe with Benny, nor did she ever want to be with anyone else.

After she recovered from that night, she started to look at it as a lesson she was forced to learn, yet she never had any idea what the subject of that lesson was. She felt as if she was forced to change by outer circumstances. She took her bad experiences, which she barely lived through, as a warning. A warning to look for a decent, calm, and predictable guy if she wants to be with someone at all. When she started dating Sebastian, she wasn't even looking to be with someone. She just didn't want to be alone with her thoughts and her feelings, but that's exactly what happened in the end.

Stella glanced down at her sketches. The longing ache between her legs was still apparent and unshakeable. All it took was one kiss from Benny. A little bit more than five years have passed, and Benny was still able to drive her insane with just one of his kisses. Sensory and sex deprivation probably took part in the state she was currently in as well. Stella couldn't ignore the irony of someone as calculated, centered and self controlled as Sebastian didn't have a quarter of passion in his whole body that Benny had in a single finger.

In the very first few days of knowing Benny, she had her suspicions about him. She thought someone as rebellious and angry as him would probably treat her with the same notions, but she couldn't be further from the truth. Benny's rebellious nature was intrinsically his, that was for sure, but that anger he had...it stemmed from the purest and deepest type of love, and the fear of losing it and never having it in the first place at the same time. Stella couldn't get enough of discovering new layers of him every single day. And all of a sudden, she ran out of days to do that.

She missed him wildly.

Every day.

In every single way.

She finished her drawings and worked on her computer when she heard Sebastian close and lock the door a little after two a.m. She closed her eyes and reminded herself of how she felt the very last time she tried to have sex with Sebastian. Sweaty and insecure hands tried to mimic interest in her body. Like an amateur who barely ever touched a piano tried to play a concerto. His lips were always too weak and indecisive. As soon as he got what he needed or wanted, he left her behind at the base of the mountain she hadn't even begun to climb to fend for herself. She always gave up these losing battles.

She grew nervous looking at the closed wardrobe room door. She knew Sebastian would never barge in through that door. She could never even recall an occassion when he knocked on that door when it was closed. And if she was completely honest with herself, she probably should do the same. She will not start to knock on a door that will never open for her.

She clenched her thighs together and focused on her work.

Benny finished his cigarette, sitting with his back against the wall. He watched as his drunk friends stumbled out of the bar. Some of them left their bikes here because, in the state they were in, they barely found the door of the bar. Benny couldn't remember the last time he was this wasted. His bet would probably be never. He never had problems controlling himself with booze. He had a little bit harder time with cigarettes, and a little while ago, it seemed like a nearly impossible effort to get a grip on his anger, but it seemed that the impossible was the new normal for him.

He stumped his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up from the chair. He finished his warmed up beer and with his box of cigarettes and the empty bottle in hand, started to walk towards Gail, who helped the bartender collect the empty bottles and glasses, trying to make the bar as close to clean and orderly as they could.

"Hey, Gail. Do you have a minute?" Benny asked nicely.

"Sure. What's up?!" She said, touching his upper arm, while with her other hand she stacked empty beer bottles onto a tray.

"I was wondering if you remember the blonde girl from a few years ago. I went home with her the night the cops took me." Benny didn't have to look around. Johnny, Wahoo, Cockroach, and Mel, all of them went home. Two guys in the far corner were sweeping up the broken glasses, cigarette buds, and peanut shells, and Brucie was finishing his glass of bourbon at the bar while he waited for Gail.

Gail stopped in her tracks, reaching for new bottles.

"Boy, you have to be more specific! You had many blondes and then more!"

"Blonde, big boobs. If i remember well..." And he did. Every detail of that mistake burned in his mind. "She had a butterfly tattoo on her ankle. But i can't remember which one." Benny added.

Gail straightened up. She put her hand on her hip. Her eyes were moving all around while she was thinking quietly. "I think she wasn't from town. But she came with a few girls from town. I can ask around, maybe they know where she is nowadays." Gail said nodding, and then flung the kitchen towel in her hand towards Benny's head. "You are a moron! You ruined that perfect thing you had with Stella!" Gail said angrily collecting the empty bottles.

"Im aware." Benny murmured under his breath as he left the bar.

Vince parked his car in front of Johnny's house. His body was shaking from an overwhelming cough. The pain kept echoing between his ribcages and traveling down his left side as well. He wiped his mouth. The blood on the handkerchief was nothing new to him. He failed to remember when it started, but the fatigue that kept floating above him like a raincloud, was harder to bear and fight, despite having only appeared in the last few weeks. For the pain, there were painkillers. A lot of them have gone down these days.

He slowly got out of his car and with slow steps, approached the door. He fastly repeated the notions in his head, that he wanted to get through in this upcoming conversation, before ringing the bell. He saw that the lights were on downstairs and upstairs as well. It wasn't so late that his visit would be deemed outraegous, but late enough for Johnny to surely be at home.

Vince never visited anybody at their home. He respected the guys who had managed to build a normal and stable life around themselves, and he had no heart to disturb it. Whatever he wanted to talk about, could have waited until they showed up at the Pit the next day. But not this!

He wasn't surprised by the expression on Johnny's face when he opened the door.

"Sorry for coming here. I hoped you would show up at the Pit today, but you didn't."

"No worries. What's up?" Johnny stepped out and closed the door.

"I wanted to talk to you about the kid!" Vince said, fighting back a cough.

"What about him? He seems to be doing fine." Johnnny said it nonchalantly.

"Yeah. He certainly looks the part." Vince mumbled quietly. "I wanted to talk about something he mentioned happening while he was inside. It was so interesting, i thought i share it with you."

Johnny stepped closer with a curious gaze.

"He said that a few months after he was in, a couple of guys ganged up on him, and tried to off him. One of them had the Ghoul's brand on him. He said they beat him up pretty bad. They were ready to slit his throat when the guard's shift change took place and the new guards heard them going at it."

Johnny studied Vince's face patiently. His brows furrowed slightly.

"It happens a lot. A lot of Ghoul's did time for either drugs or murder. I would imagine a lot of them would be jizzing their pants to get their hands on one of us. The fact that they can't go through town to sell their shit and have to store it further away...they probably lost a lot of money. They were pissed off, that's what it is." Johnny said, scratching his eyebrow out of frustration.

"Yes." Vince nodded glancing aside to the street. "Money makes some people go insane. But the main thing that concerns me, is that the Ghoul told Benny, that our club wanted to get rid of him."

Johnny stiffened and his gaze hardened right onto Vince's face.

"So that's why you're here!" Johnny murmured with tensed up jaws. "To ask if i was the one who wanted to get rid of the kid?!"

Vince sensed the thin ice he dared upon, but he did not care.

"Thought has crossed my mind." Vince said it with a passive tone.

A thin, threatening smile slid up onto Johnny's lips.

"You got some fucking nerve, mate!" Johnny nodded with an angry expression on his face. "That kid is like a son to me! Do you think i would try to hustle some half-assed scheme to try to kill him...and for what exactly?!" Johnny leaned closer to weigh his words right down on Vince's conscience.

"Well...that's exactly what led me to you. The fact that you had no reason to try to get rid of him, since you yourself asked him to take over when you're done. That makes you the only person i'm sure of not being in on it. But it also makes you the person, who someone actually tried to get rid of, by removing Benny. Which makes me think...that someone was worried about Benny taking over instead of him once you're stepping down or...you are removed. And if and when you are removed, he still has to deal with the kid. I think someone saw an opportunity and took it."

Vince's saw the visible proof of his words registering in Johnny, as he started to slowly pace up and down. He watched as his club leader tried to digest the situation that, up until now, was nonexistent to him.

"So...we have a snake." Johnny said, surveying the dark street.

"It seems so." Vince said peacefully. "And that snake probably has a few people helping him." Vince said, sniffling and trying to ignore the pain in his chest and back.

"What do you mean?" Johnny turned towards him.

"I keep asking myself the same question...ever since the kid went inside. Who called the cops on him?! Chamberlain surely didn't, unless he was ready to out himself as the piece of shit he always was." Vince's brows furrowed as he watched the left side of Johnny's face twitch. "The kid surely didn't, and the girl...i mean she could have when she sensed that things were going really badly for her...but when did she ever call the cops on him before, you know?!"

Vince only saw a side profile of Johnny's face.

Regret and sadness swept up on it as he listened to Vince's ongoing thoughts.

"So someone had to be out there...watching the house that night. Or followed Benny from home. So...i went out to have a walk around the farm...which really took a lot out of me. But eventually, i found something. Pretty much a million worth of cocaine, buried under a tree, with the Ghoul's branding on it."

Vince was aware that he was lying and what could be the consequence of that, but at this point he stopped giving a shit. Rather be his, who's door they kick down if his instincts were wrong, trusting Johnny, than Benny's. He will not spend his last months on this earth, mourning the kid he raised and could have saved, if he had made the right decision. And this was the right decision. The only decision.

Stella drove past the gas station that seemed to be an unlucky place for her, seeing as she kept bumping into Vandal's there. This time she filled up her car in the city before she left it and hoped that she wouldn't meet any other leather clad biker this time. Although, it would be weird if she did, as she was intending to visit the town hall and its archives.

The only reason she ventured here again, was the advice of her lawyer, who currently worked on looking up all documents, regarding the farm and its surrounding area. According to him, certain documents should be found at the town hall, considering the size of their farm, the surrounding neighbors, and the closeness of the forest, that was in the possession of the town. There used to be constant bickering about the ending of the forest and the beginning of the farm.

She walked into the building, and in her usual polite manner, asked for some guidance, but she quickly met disinterested, passive aggressive rudeness, as the old lady informed her that out of the only three people who worked there, two had already left for lunch and she would not stay either, so she had to leave and come back in an hour.

"It's a joke!" She murmured as she walked back to her car and sat back in it, debating what she should do, and where she should spend this hour. Because spending an hour sitting in her car, in a parking spot that had no trees or any shade above it, surely wasn't a good idea.

She decided to go to a place, where she hadn't been in a while. The diner in town was a popular place among all age groups. High schoolers liked to hang out in or around there for their cheap milkshakes and for the curly fries they did back then. Stella wasn't really surprised that the place haven't changed at all. Everything was the same red and white color. The tables and chairs outside were freshly painted, judging by the thick, vibrant red color of the wood. She left the outer seats to the families, those who had plenty of little kids running around them. She walked in and sat in the last box at the far end of the diner. The inside of it was much quieter than the terrace anyway.

She took her time reading through the menu card, and when the really young waitress arrived, she asked for a grilled cheese sandwich with fries and a Cheerwine for old time's sake. She pulled the sketchbook and the pencil out of her purse and decided to be productive. She continued her sketches about the cruise collection she was designing for her store. Lydia was already neck deep in designing and planning the accessories, so Stella decided to follow the lead of her friend and follow the vibes of the already half ready accessories with the clothes she was designing.

"Quite the picture!"

Stella's whole body shook. Her head shot up towards the person who appeared next to her table, as quietly as a ghost. Vince was standing there with a polite smile on his thin lips.

"Oh...hello." Stella's sigh was full of relief.

Stella closed the sketchbook.

"Do you...mind if i sit with you until my order is ready to go?" Vince asked.

"Be my guest!" Stella smiled kindly and watched as Vince sat down.

The last time she met Vince, she didn't really look at him. She was too stressed to pay attention to anything besides the foreboding thoughts in her head. Now that she was looking at him, he seemed off. Old and tired. And also like someone who lost a lot of weight and his muscles went along with it. And yet, he still had the bone structure and build of a smaller tank.

"How are you doing?" Stella didn't even notice, but she already asked.

"I am well." Vince's brows stretched upward in a short grimace.

Stella knew he lied, but she took the hint and didn't inquire further.

"I just...came to pick up lunch for Benny at the garage." He added.

Vince noticed the glint in her eyes when he mentioned Benny. His thin lips twitched. He couldn't ignore the fact that Benny reacted the same way each time her name was mentioned. Part of him was amused by the obvious and deep love that was still going on between them, but another part of him was confused as to why they haven't even tried to mend things between themselves, if they were obviously still in love with one another. But a really small part of him understood Stella.

She was a beautiful, young college girl who was always kept on tight leash by the man who raised her. She was told and met a lot of no's. It wasn't really surprising for Vince that she was instantly attracted to Benny, and it didn't take long for her to fall in love with him either. He probably represented the freedom for her, that she never got to experience.

Vince knew Stella's mother when he was younger and also was she. She had an on and off fling with Johnny throughout the years. Except Rebecca always knew what she wanted out of her life. To keep her farm, her horses. To have a family, a husband, a quiet life. Except a part of her also wanted excitement, freedom, passion. That attracted her to Johnny and kept her interested in him for quite a while, even after she got the life she had wanted. It seemed like a curse was hereditary amongst the Hawkins women.

"He works at your garage?" Stella asked, clearing her throat.

"Of course he is. I'm not letting a good mechanic sleep until noon."

Stella's smile was light and barely visible. She herself was aware of Benny's tendency to sleep in, but she also had knowledge of the why. And also the fact that he could be up all night and dawn, going into the next day without any sleep at all. Or be asleep at eight p.m already on a Saturday night. His mind would not let him sleep a lot of times. He had various ways to deal with it. Stella witnessed quite a few of those. Just as she witnessed his mechanical skills. He was always good with his hands. In many ways.

"How is he?" Stella asked quietly and she almost felt haunted by him, even though she was just talking about him with someone else. Benny's influence on her known no distance, limits or boundaries.

"He is doing good." Vince cleared his throat as much as he could. "He changed quite a bit. I'm proud of him! He shows up every day and he is the last one out of all of us to go home. He drinks even less than he used to." Vince added.

Stella never knew Benny as someone who heavily drinks. But she saw the rest of the club members getting so low, that they couldn't even find the door. Benny never had more than a beer or a glass of whiskey, either bourbon or scotch. When she asked how come he doesn't drink as much as his friends, he said – if he drinks too much, his mind is not clear enough to ride his bike whenever he feels like. Alcohol was never his choice to deal with whatever he had to deal with at any given moment.

Stella has silently succumbed to her own fear and anxiety.

"Will he be...okay?" Her voice was thick with worry.

Vince felt the same as she did.

"I think...he will be. He is a strong boy!"

Vince's voice was harsh and croaky from the pain in his chest and back.

Stella noticed a thin layer of sweat on Vince's forehead, but he wiped it away.

They sat quietly for a minute.

Stella's fingers tapped lightly on her closed sketchbook.

"Do you...mind if i look at it?" Vince asked, gently looking at the notebook.

Stella was nervous, but she didn't know how to say no.

"Sure." She slid the sketchbook through the table toward him.

Vince slowly and carefully flipped through the pages. Taking note of every little shape, color, and detail. He saw clothing pieces drawn in a very detailed manner, colored and here and there were texts explaining certain details in words he had no understanding of. Wonderful dresses were created on paper and then colored. Some pages had magazine cutouts or a photo pinned to them.

"It is...these are really pretty." Vince cleared his throat and fought with all of his willpower to keep the cough where it was born. Ever since he woke up today, he felt the chest pain make itself apparent in his back and shoulders as well. "You always had a keen eye for pretty things...an ability to see beauty." Vince took a long, last look at the last filled page.

Stella hasn't reacted. She never learned how to receive compliments. And it was her father's way to give her a compliment, right before going in with a jugular, in the best-case scenario with a humiliating insult, in worst cases with an actual hit.

"And this is just a hobby or you do something with these?" Vince asked in a rough voice and cleared his throat, which was followed by a rather ugly cough.

"I...i opened a store in the city. With a friend. I design the clothes, and sometimes shoes, bags. My friend does the jewelry and also shoes and bags." Stella spoke quietly, without any intention to brag. She almost was lacking even proudness.

"And it's going as you want it to?" Vince asked with sincere curiosity.

"It's going well. It pays us. There is a little plus as well." Stella said. "But what is with you? Don't take it the wrong way...but you don't look well. And the cough...it doesn't sound good." Stella's voice and face were genuinely concerned.

Vince shook his head. "It's nothing."

Stella saw through the lie. She hasn't seen her mother's health significantly decline before she passed away. It was a fastly approaching, sudden accumulation of the violent cancer that had spread, eating itself through her ovaries and moving into her other organs as well, eventually killing her. One night she was still there, in the morning she wasn't. The doctors gave them a folder full of papers that contained information about the particular cancer she suffered from. Stella found it somewhere around the house and read through it.

Later in life, she also read quite a lot about the disease out of curiosity. Weight loss was a very common symptom of many types of cancer. The body is desperately trying to feed its cells, including the greedy, corrupt cancerous cells that demand much more than they really should. If not this, then the chemotherapy drugs cause nausea and vomiting, loss of appetite, which is not good when a war is going on inside the body that needs every ounce of energy to fight to win it.

Stella, as an adult came to the conclusion that cancer is very typically human disease - stupid as shit. Viruses evolve themselves but never try to intentionally kill their host, they just want to spread. Parasites harm the body that they feed upon, but never eat as much, to kill them. Cancer just spreads, demands, eats and takes until there is nothing left, and then by this behaviour, it invites it's own destruction as well. Because of it's greed.

Stella didn't understand a lot of it, but still, to this day, she couldn't figure out why her mother never wanted to try and fight it. If not for herself, for her and Carly. To be able to spend more time with them. Even if just a few months more. As an adult, she accepted that it was her body and life, so it was her decision. But the traumatized child in her felt disappointed and sad about it.

Stella glanced down on her own, black painted nails on the ligh blue cover of her sketchbook. The light blue color always reminded her of Benny's soulful, sky blue eyes. "You guys figured it out yet, who tried to get rid of him at the club?" Stella's voice volume was careful but curious.

"What makes you think it was someone from the club?"

Vince didn't know how much Benny had told Stella. He only had awareness of the fact, that Stella was the one who found the drugs and she only told about them to Benny. But it wouldn't surprise him if she figured out this small, but significant detail all by herself. She always was really perceptive and intelligent.

"Who else would've tried such a thing?" Stella scoffed sarcastically.

The waitress arrived with her order, but all of a sudden she lost all appetite, but she took a sip off the soda though. The taste awakened a simple, pleasant memory from her childhood and teenage years.

"Benny is a good kid at heart...but we all know he has an attitude..."

Stella scoffed again. "Tell me about it!" She murmured with a little smile.

A small and silent laugh shook Vince and then a long cough as well.

He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

"That attitude can piss off a lot of people. Also, before you came along, he pissed off a lot of people. Other club members who's asses he handed to them. And there are the brothers, boyfriend and husbands." Vince said.

Stella felt the sweet cherry taste grow bitter on her tongue.

"My point is, there are many people who would want him gone." Vince said.

"Uh-hum." Stella's hum was quiet but it was full of sarcasm. "If those people really wanted him gone, they would have waited to get him alone somewhere and beat him to a pulp, or..." Stella didn't felt the need to continue with examples, and she wasn't even sure that she could. "My point is, i'm not sure that many of them knew about...us, and neither where i've lived and neither about the fact, where he headed and will be that night. Only a club member would've known and even that person should have been keeping a close eye on Benny to be at the right place and the right time for their scheme to work." Stella said with a plain face, in sharp contrast to the speed and frustrated way she kept spinning her pencil on the table.

Vince could not argue, nor he wanted to.

"Why do you think someone would do such a thing?" Vince scratched his jaw.

Stella remained quiet as she thought the question through.

"Benny was always the heart of that club. I mean...i don't know about before he became a member, but in recent times, surely. Johnny always valued his opinion and he thought greatly of him, otherwise he wouldn't have asked him to lead the club after he feels like he can't do that anymore. You and him were always close. Who was there for anyone who got stranded on the side of the road, when someone needed to be taken to the hospital, when some punches were needed to be thrown?!" Stella didn't expected an answer. "Someone could be jealous of his place within the club...maybe tried to make him go away, so they could take it."

Vince was genuinely surprised.

"Benny told you about Johnny asking him?"

"Yes, he told me."

Vince nodded silently with a clear gaze. He was aware of how much Stella meant to Benny, but he never could've guessed the depth of his feelings. Surely, as soon as Stella first walked into the Pit, Benny never had eyes for any other girl or woman. His eyes always studied, stalked, and adored Stella. If she had left the table, to go to the ladies room, Benny never stopped watching the door until she came out. If she was started to feel cold out of tiredness, he would give his jacket to her. The very jacket that had all the color on it, which he would be rather kmurdered in, than to take it off willingly.

"You were always a mystery to everyone." Vince added quietly and glanced aside from her. His mind went to unusual places. Only a few seconds have passed since she walked into the Pit for the first time ever, and everyone instantly noticed her. How they couldn't? She was the prettiest girl that ever walked into that wretched place in a really long time. How could have, out of all people, Benny avoid noticing her?!

Vince still remembered every single, small detail of that night, because it was significant for many reasons, and not just for future ones. The girl glanced around and probably felt as all the attention was directed towards her, but after a quick second she seemed completely unbothered by everyone, and walked to the bar, asking Neil to use the phone because her car broke down a few miles back, and her cell phone died on her.

She never even sat down. She didn't even got the phone in her hand, when Johnny walked over to the bar and took it from Neil's hand. Vince never heard, never tried to guess, nor did he ever asked what Johnny said to her within those few minutes when he was talking to her. Then Johnny summoned Benny and with him at his side walked her back to her car. She didn't came back at the bar that night. But she showed up a few days later on Benny's side. No one had to guess who she wanted to be with. But everyone was wondering what was she doing in a place like the Pit.

The pain in Vince's chest and back started to worsen. His shoulder's started to pulsate to the rhythm of his heartbeats. He felt the shortness of breath, the nausea and the lightheadedness. Only now he wasn't doing anything physically demanding. He was simply sitting. He didn't find any more strength in himself, than to simply turn sideways, before his stomach sent back its contents along with vibrant red blood.

Stella jumped in her seat. Within a few seconds, her feelings had spun from worry, anxiety to becoming speechles out of fear. She could only see as Vince's stomach made another attempt to get rid of what has been ailing it, but blood kept coming with it. The quantity of it made Stella's heart pound as if she were running, but she was glued to her seat by the shock of the reality changing so fast around her. "Somebody call an ambulance right now! Please!" She turned her head towards the diner's staff. Her voice was brittle. Her eyes were pleading.

Stella felt disgust, fear, anxiety, and a little bit of nausea. The smell of heavy, sanitizing chemicals and sickness was thick in the air. She hated hospitals. She spent enough time in them for a lifetime. Also, she felt pain in her feet. Her black heels weren't made for the day she turned out to be having. But the pain was useful in a way. She was able to direct her attention towards it and the awful smell of her surroundings, instead of succumbing to her panic and anxiety.

She followed the ambulance from the diner to the hospital and watched as the paramedics and nurses took Vince to a room. Nurses were running in and out of it in a hurry with medications and liquid bags in their hands. Two doctors also visited his room with fast approaching steps. They were in for a while and then simply asked her if she was a close relative to him, and when her answer was no, they simply left her without a word or an answer.

She was pacing up and down in front of the room Vince was in, in who knows what kind of condition, and a thought just hit her right in the center of her brain. Why hasn't she went to Vince's garage yet, to get Benny? He should've known about this by now! Maybe the doctors will give answers to him!

She turned around in her step and she froze immediately, when she spotted Benny at the end of the seemingly endless, bright hallway. He was running, and with his tall legs he was there faster than Stella anticipated. He seemed slightly surprised and very much terrified.

"H...how is he?!" He asked a little bit out of breath and with a lot of fear in his voice.

"I don't know." Stella said gently. "Two doctors were in for a while. When they came out they asked if i am a close relative and then they left." A relieved sigh escaped out of Stella. She felt her anxiety becoming thinner, weaker as she stood next to Benny. She glanced down at his hands. They were still covered in grime and oil. So were his t-shirt.

"Brucie called me. He said Vince signed him as his emergency contact, but he couldn't leave the work he had." Benny said and his breathing had already returned to normal. "But how did you ended up here?!"

"I was at the diner and so was he. He sat down, we talked a little and then all of the sudden, he started vomiting...blood too, and then he just collapsed out of his seat and...i followed the ambulance." Stella still wasn't sure herself, what was she still doing here. Other than making sure that Vince is okay, which was already half assured when the paramedics arrived at the diner.

Benny looked around in the hallway before with a fast and light movement went inside Vince's room. Stella remained on the hallway, indecisive. Her anxiety and nervousness kept urging her to leave. Benny was already here for Vince, and Brucie and the rest of the bikers probably will turn up very soon.

She has to get back to the town hall before it closes for today.

The door of the room opened and Benny sneaked out of it nonchalantly, and without shame or worry of being caught. Stella wasn't really surprised, that even in a hospital, Benny didn't give a shit about the rules. "He is asleep or unconscious, i don't really know. There is a lot of bags hooked onto him." He said quietly and swept through his hair with his fingers.

Stella nodded as a mute. She couldn't overlook the fear in his eyes and she understood the meaning behind it. Vince was Benny's father in every way except biologically. Benny told him that his mother died when he was a little kid and his father started drinking after that. He never knew what to do with a kid aside from keeping it alive, fed and clothed. They were just a lost in life adult and a young boy living under the same roof. This knowledge helped Stella understand Benny's withdrawn and emotionless approach towards people in his life. He never learned how to connect. Not in ways that people usually did anyway.

"Vince has...some kind of cancer?" Stella asked carefully.

"He said lung cancer." Benny sank onto one of the chairs.

Stella didn't know what to say. In her peripheral vision, she spot the leather clad figures at the end of the hallway. She hooked her black handbags handles onto her forearm. "Here is the club." She said sorrowful. "I have to go!" Stella said straightening her back and adjusting her feet in her heels as Johnny and all the man approached closer and closer.

"Stella..." Benny jumped up from his seat when Stella started walking.

"Give my best to Vince." She said softly and kept walking through the swarm of bikers that were approaching, never stopping for a step, not once looking up at their eye level, not even trying to look back at Benny.

Her anxiety urged her to leave and to concentrate on her task.

Whatever happens.

#whispers of violence series #benny cross x ofc #austin butler fanfic #the bikeriders #benny cross x reader

28 notes · View notes

hellohannie · 11 months ago

Text

Return of the Enchantress (m) | ljh

“𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙚.”

a year ago, jihoon had come across a forest nymph who had inadvertently stolen his heart. after a passionate night together, they agreed to meet again exactly a year later. here jihoon was now, exactly a year, down to the second, later. will you come to him? will he finally be able to take you home? part of the enchantress of the forest series. read part one here!

♡ PLAYERS - lee jihoon x reader

♡ WORD COUNT - 6.3K

♡ TAGS - fantasy au, faerie!reader, fluff, minor angst, smut (MDNI): fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it friends)

♡ NOTES - hi everyone! thank you so much for waiting patiently for me. things have been hectic for me and i haven't had the time to really sit and write. i also found myself just hating everything i wrote so i didn't want to upload anything

unfortunately, i don't see my update schedule being any quicker or more consistent in the near future, so i apologize for that. still, thank you to everyone who likes, comments and reblogs, it lets me know that there are people who enjoy my content, and it motivates me to write more!

THERE WILL BE A PART 3 and i promise it'll be updated sooner. i'm actually already a third of the way done with it right now. i just figured it would be better to split this part into two, so that's why there's another part. so please look forward to some conflicts and jihoon in faerieland? *wink wink*

i hope you all enjoy, and please be sure to interact! i love the feedback!

Jihoon’s breaths were loud and heavy as he sprinted through the forest, leaves and branches crunching under his footsteps. He glanced at the watch on his wrist. 5:58am. He pushed himself to run faster. He had two more minutes before the sun broke the horizon. Two more minutes until it was exactly a year since he last saw you. He thought about this moment every day for the past year and by God, did he hope you’d be waiting for him like he imagined in his dreams.

The campsite loomed into view as Jihoon came to a stop and took in his surroundings. The tent was gone, but the ring of bricks surrounding the bonfire was still there, only now covered in moss from lack of use. Jihoon’s chest felt tight as he remembered the way you were perched in front of it that fateful night, the first time he saw you.

Jihoon then walked up to the large oak tree you disappeared behind that next morning, staring in hopes that you’d materialize in front of it. He felt a buzz on his wrist. It was his watch telling him a new hour had started. It was six. The sky around him was a blend of pinks and blues and oranges as the sun arose, waking up the world.

Suddenly, Jihoon felt an itch on his pinky. “No, no no no.” He whispered, holding his left hand up to his face. It was his flower ring. The once perfectly bloomed dandelion was now dried and scratching his skin. The enchantment was gone.

Jihoon slid to his knees as he began to imagine the worst. It had been exactly a year since you left. You promised to meet him here, but you were nowhere to be found. Not only that, the enchantment on his ring was gone. That could only mean one thing. You must’ve lost your magic. The Queen must’ve denied your request to live on Earth and punished you.

Jihoon began to cry, wracked with guilt at the thought that it was his fault that you were met with such a fate. “Y/N,” he whimpered. “I’m so sorry-”

“Jihoon?”

The blond snapped his head up, brushing tears out of his eyes to clear his sight. There you stood, silhouetted by the backlight of the sun, like a vision from the dreams that plagued his every second. Jihoon shook his head as if clearing cobwebs from his mind, making sure that what he was seeing was reality and not a delusion.

“Jihoon Darling,” you took a step forward, concerned. “You are crying.”

Jihoon stayed frozen on the forest floor, staring at you. He was spellbound, reminded again of how beautiful you truly were. Like the first time he saw you, you were wearing a white dress that flowed like water around your calves as it caught the wind. However, the dress was far more intricate this time, with the sleeves coming to capped hems just below your elbow, causing the fabric to bubble around your arm like a balloon. The neckline was trimmed with eyelet lace, as was the skirt hem. The fabric was cinched in at your waist, held tight with a glimmering fabric tied into a bow.

Your hair had been loose and curled in ringlets a year ago, but now, it was weaved into a long, thick braid hanging over your shoulder. Millions of little flowers adorned the silky strands from the crown of your head to the very tip of the braid.

Jihoon’s eyes flitted across your face as you moved closer, taking in the details that had faded in his memory through the year. He re-memorized everything, from the slant of your eyes to the arch of your brows, the high bridge of your nose, the glimmer in your eyes as you looked at him so lovingly. The movement of your plush lips caught his attention first before your tinkling voice registered in his ears.

“Jihoon,” you giggled as he flinched, snapping himself out of your reverie. By now, you had crouched in front of him, hands placed gently at his elbows. “Come, let’s get you to your feet.”

As soon as you were both standing, Jihoon lunged to wrap his arms around your waist and lift you into a tight embrace. He felt all the tension leave his body as he heard your laughter in his ears and felt your arms glide around his neck. You were here. Finally.

“I missed you,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, breathing in the familiar petrichor scent that bled from your skin. “I missed you Faerie-”

“Ah,” you interrupted. “That, I am no longer.” You pulled back with a serene expression as Jihoon set you on your feet.

“What?”

“I am no longer a Faerie.”

That was when Jihoon realized that while there were so many parts of you that remained unchanged from the last time he saw you, there were also parts that were different. Your pointed ears were now rounded at the tips, and while you felt warm in his grasp, you did not feel nearly as fragile as before. Perhaps the biggest difference of all, you did not have the glow around your body that had first caught Jihoon’s attention all those days ago. Your skin didn’t shimmer as if you were otherworldly. Nothing about you screamed otherworldly. You look like him. You looked…

“Human,” Jihoon gasped. “You’re human? Meeting with the Queen, it worked?”

You nodded, a hand hesitantly reaching up to cup his cheek. “Are you disappointed? That I am ordinary.”

“No,” he responded fiercely, pulling you in closer by your waist. “You are not ordinary and you could never disappoint me. If you’re human, that means you left your world for me. A woman who is so brave as to leave behind all she’s ever known and loved for me is…is anything but ordinary.” He pressed his forehead to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “I was worried this day would never come, that I would never get to hold you, kiss you, tell you that I love you.”

“You do not have to worry any longer, sweet Jihoon, I’m yours. Eternally.”

Jihoon is unsure who leaned in first, all he is aware of is the feeling of your pillowy lips against his own, and the feeling of finally being at home. His hands trailed up your sides up to your jaw, tipping your head back to deepen the kiss. You parted your lips in a soft sigh, and Jihoon took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. With a quiet moan, you pushed your body closer to his, your kisses picking up speed.

“Jihoon,” you murmured, but he quickly silenced you with another kiss.

“Missed you so much, Y/N,” he groaned, lips brushing against yours with every word. “Missed you so much, don’t wanna let go, wish we could just teleport home.”

You slid your fingers into his hair, using the grip to tug him back. “Jihoon,” you said, a bit more sternly, with a sheepish grin. His eyes slid open lazily. “I’m afraid we have company.” Your eyes glanced to your right. His followed and widened as he took in the forest animals that encircled the two of you. All around him, perched in the grass were golden deer and silver bunnies, russet foxes and red squirrels. There were hummingbirds and butterflies littering the trees, while fireflies and honey bees buzzed around in the air.

You slipped out from his arms and glided over to a shimmering deer, gently petting its head. “There are my friends,” you turned to give Jihoon a blinding smile. “They kept me company as I looked after my part of the forest, long before I met you.”

Jihoon stared in awe as the animals moved to be near you, reveling in your laughter as you let the wildlife jump into your lap or sit on your shoulders. However, despite your laughter, Jihoon thought he could hear crying and whining. You must’ve heard the same because you said, “They are confused why I can no longer understand them and why they can no longer understand me.”

That’s right, Jihoon thought, when she was a faerie, she could communicate with them, but now that she’s given up her powers…

“Do you mind if I sing to them one last time before we go? They used to fall asleep to the sound of my voice, and I do not want them to see me leave. I would rather their last memory of me be something blissful.”

Jihoon nodded, taking a seat in the grass. Goosebumps arose on his skin as you began to sing, your voice both captivating and soothing. He watched as the animals around you began to lay down, eyes falling closed as your song sent them into dreamland. Jihoon, too, closed his eyes, not because he was falling asleep, but to give you even a semblance of privacy. Your song was not only a goodbye to your friends, but a goodbye to the only life you’d ever known, a life Jihoon was never a part of. It didn’t feel right to intrude on this last moment of yours.

By the time the two of you made your trek back to the houses the boys stayed at last time, the sun was already high in the sky. You did all of the talking, rambling on about the land of Faerie, and what you’d been doing this past year.

“I’ll admit,” you said, swinging yours and Jihoon’s arms as you walked, “The Queen was rather shocked when I made my request. I’d never expressed discontent with my position as a forest nymph before, so asking to have my powers stripped was unexpected. However, when I told her it was because I had fallen in love…” You looked up at him with an affectionate smile. “Well, she said it was the first time she was delighted to strip a Faerie of their powers.”

Jihoon sighed in relief. “I’m not going to lie, I was worried she might not have taken it so well.” He lifted your interlocked hands up and wiggled his pinky, the dried flower ring still wrapped around it. “When this happened, I was afraid you’d been punished.”

“Ah,” you soothed, “That must’ve been because my powers could no longer uphold the enchantment. There’s no need to worry, see?” You hopped in front and turned to face him, arms spread wide. “I’m just fine and here with you. We don’t need enchanted rings anymore. I can make you a new one every morning.”

Jihoon could feel his heart swell with adoration, your optimism endearing and contagious. Just as he stepped forward to swing you into his arms again, a soccer ball came rolling on the ground, bumping against your bare feet.

You made a questioning sound, bending to pick up the ball. “What is this?” You held it up to your face, brows furrowed in scrutiny.

“I’m so sor-woah,” a boy with brown and blond streaked hair jogged towards you, eyes wide, arms frozen from where they had been reaching to take the ball from you. “Who are you?”

You tilted your chin up slightly, face blank as you held yourself with an air of regality, similar to when you first encountered Jihoon. “I am Y/N, a forest n- I am Y/N. You are?”

The boy, still awe-struck, responded, “I’m wondering where you’ve been all my life.”

“Soonyoung,” Jihoon snapped from his spot slightly behind you. He took the ball gently from your fingers before chucking it at his friend’s shoulder. This shocked Soonyoung out of his trace and he glared at Jihoon while clutching his arm.

“Ow!”

“Soonyoung?” you whispered, unminding of the squabble happening next to you. “Soonyoung!” You explained louder, this time catching the boys’ attention. “You’re Jihoon’s best friend!”

Jihoon flushed bright red and Soonyoung began to coo, “Awhhh Jiiiii~ You’ve been telling strangers I’m your best friendddd~ Wait!” Soonyoung’s head snapped towards you. “Oh my God you’re the girl from the forest! The nymph!” He snatched up your hand and gave you a vigorous handshake. “Does this mean you’re coming home with us? Jihoon refused to tell us anything about you, wanted to keep you a secret.”

Your eyes darted between the hyper boy in front of you and the stoic one to the right, the latter rolling his eyes. “Yeah yeah, this is her, now let go,” Jihoon jerked Soonyoung back with a grip on his shoulder.

You laughed, a bit endeared by the energy vibrating in Soonyoung. He reminded you of the little pixies from home that zipped around from place to place in the blink of an eye. “It is nice to meet you Soonyoung. I hope you don’t mind that I’ll be joining you on your journey home.”

He shook his head frantically, “Of course not! C’mon,” he grabbed your elbow, albeit gently, “Everyone else has been dying to meet you!”

Soonyoung directed you towards the smattering of houses, Jihoon following closely behind. As the three of you approached, you could hear a cacophony of voices and laughter. Soonyoung brought you to an open space covered by a canopy, where eleven other boys were bent over something. The smell of food and smoke engulfed you as the boy holding your arm yelled, “Guys she’s here!”

In unison, all the heads snapped towards you. You took a step back into Jihoon’s chest, his hands coming to rest reassuringly on your shoulders. It was silent for just a moment before all hell broke loose.

“Oh my God!”

“You made it!”

“Oh she’s so precious!”

“I told you she’d come back!”

“Ugh fine you were right, here’s the $20 bucks.”

“Wait,” Jihoon moved you to the side and stepped towards two of the boys. “You bet on us?”

As the boys struggled to defend themselves, a familiar blond with long hair stepped towards you, a kind smile on his face. You recognized him from a year ago. He was at the tent with his partner the night before you met Jihoon. The one you thought might have Faerie blood running through his veins.

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Jeonghan. This is Joshua,” he gestured to the man standing beside him, “We were at the forest last year too.”

“I remember,” you ducked your head, wishing your hair was loose so it would hide your flushed cheeks. You remembered coming across their intimate moment, trying not to intrude, but unable to block out the noise due to your enhanced senses. Although, even now, without your powers, it was obvious these men were fated mates. They were truly in love.

Jeonghan and Joshua held back their laughter, not wanting to embarrass you any further.

Joshua leaned down a bit, lowering his voice. “I hope you don’t mind that we sent Jihoon to your forest the next day. He was feeling a bit stressed, and we hoped a night away would bring him some peace.”

You flushed even more at this, your collarbones starting to turn red. “It’s alright. I’m…thankful. Actually,” you picked your head up, looking them both in the eyes before clasping your hands in front of you and dipping into a slight curtsey, “I’m indebted to you both, for bringing my soulmate to me. I’m not sure we would ever have met if not for you.”

Jeonghan stepped forward, bringing you back to standing with a hold on your upper arms. “There is no need for that. You are one of us now Y/N, you’re family. Family does not hold debts.” Joshua nodded, giving you a soft pet on the back of your head.

Your chest felt warm. Family. You did not have a family in Faerieland. Yes you had friends of all different species, but no one that called you family. “I never had anyone to call family at home.”

The boys shared a pitying glance before bringing you into an embrace. “Well then,” said Joshua, “We are honored to be the first to call you sister.”

You sniffled, and it was loud enough to catch Jihoon’s attention. “She’s been here all of five minutes and the evil twins are already making her cry,” he grumbled, pulling you into his side. “C’mon let’s go inside before the rest of them harass you even more.”

You and Jihoon walked into the warm dining hall together, his brothers’ (and now your brothers’) laughter echoing behind you.

“Lunch is served!” the tallest boy, who you now know as Mingyu, announced as he took the lids off the twenty something dishes lining the lengthy table. You were sitting in the middle of one of the benches, as per Jihoon’s insistence, something about it being easy to reach all the food. Jeonghan, who was sitting on the other side of you, nudged your waist with his elbow. You moved your gaze from the food to Jeonghan who motioned with his chin to the table. “Ladies first.”

It was only then that you noticed no one was filling their plates. Rather, they were all looking at you expectantly, but excitedly, especially Mingyu. You felt shy under their gazes. “I’m…I’m not familiar with human food,” you glanced at Jihoon before turning towards Mingyu. “Would you be able to describe your dishes to me?”

Mingyu was bouncing on his feet. “Of course! No one has ever asked me before! So this…” As Mingyu began to explain each dish to you, you felt your mouth start to water more and more. That is until he got to the center dish. “And this is the main course for today, galbi. It’s grilled beef short ribs-”

You shrieked in horror, hands covering your mouth as you shot to your feet. Everyone, including Jihoon, stared at you in concern. “Faerie, what’s wrong?”

“You all eat cows?” You were appalled, and even felt a bit sick. In Faerieland, cows were sacred. They provided the people of your land with milk which allowed you to create butter, cheese and other products, like in the human world. In addition however, cow’s milk in Faerieland had healing properties, and could be used in potions or with pixie dust to create potent magic. Cows were cared for, they were your friends. You couldn’t imagine taking their life and eating them.

“I’m, I’m sorry, I-” you scrambled over the bench, giving them all a quick bow in apology. “I must step away.” You ran out the door.

The rest of the boys, in a stupor, turned to Jihoon for an explanation. The latter groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “I didn’t even realize, she probably doesn’t eat meat.” He quickly explained how the forest animals were your friends, so the same must be for all animals in Faerieland. “It’s my fault. I should’ve known better than to think the customs in our world would be the same as the ones in her world.”

“It’s ok Jihoon,” Seungcheol soothed. “You didn’t know. She’s not going to hold that against you. Now you know that there’s going to be a lot of things she needs to learn, but you won't be alone, we’ll all help, right?” He looked around the table. Everyone nodded their heads in agreement.

“Here Hyung,” Seungkwan handed Jihoon a plate full of vegetarian dishes. “Take this to her so she doesn’t starve. I think that’s a good place to start.”

Jihoon took the plate from the younger with a grateful look. “Thanks Kwan, thanks everyone.”

With that, he walked towards the guest house next to the mess hall calling out your name. “Y/N! Are you in here?” As he stepped into the house, he saw you curled into a ball, sitting on the couch. “Faerie, I’m so sorry. I should’ve remembered that our customs, including diets, are probably completely different. You even told me that animals are considered friends in Faerieland, I should’ve been more careful.”

“No,” you turned to face Jihoon who was sitting next to you on the couch, crossing your legs to sit criss-cross. “It is not your fault. I also should’ve been more composed. I hope you know I do not judge the food you eat. We all have different practices. There’s a lot I must learn about the human world, as expected. Mistakes will be made, but it is never the fault of you or I.” Your gaze shifted to the plate, and as if on cue, your stomach grumbled loudly.

You shot Jihoon a sheepish look as he laughed endearingly. “Here, Seungkwan piled the plate with vegetables. Do you want to try?” You nodded excitedly. “Ok, here, this is kimchi,” he held the chopsticks up to your mouth, watching expectantly as you chewed. “Good?” Your eyes were wide. “Guess so,” he laughed, picking up something else with the chopsticks. “This is tofu, it is made from crushed beans...” Jihoon watched fondly as you ate everything on the plate, glad that he was able to at least provide some food that you liked. He would make sure to be more diligent in the future as you continued to navigate life in the human world.

That night, you and Jihoon came across another slight issue. After dinner (at which time you apologized to everyone for making a spectacle and for potentially offending them and thanked Mingyu for making extra vegetarian food for you this time), Jihoon asked you to get ready for bed in his room as the members discussed their plans to return to Seoul the next day. He was exhausted as he walked back to his room, stressed from how he was going to explain to the company that he returned from vacation with a girl.

The shock he received when he opened the door however was enough to re-energize him. “Oh my God!” he shouted, quickly shutting the door behind him and turning to face it. “Why are you in your underwear?”

You answered innocently, “I always sleep like this. The cottages in our land get warm at night as we must close all the doors and windows. Though it is a bit cold in this room.”

Jihoon turned to catch a glimpse of your face, and saw goosebumps littering your skin. He quickly turned back around, moving to the closet near the door. He grabbed a soft shirt of his and tossed it over his shoulder towards where he hoped the bed was. “Put this on.”

The noise of clothes rustling filled the silence before you muttered, “Ok, done.”

Jihoon turned around, relieved that you were somewhat clothed now. “Faerie,” he knelt onto the bed beside you, but you refused to look at him, choosing to pick at a loose thread on the duvet. He placed a finger under your chin, turning your head towards him. Your lips were slightly pouted, eyes a bit teary. “I’m sorry for shouting, I was just surprised and also didn’t want anyone else to see you like that.” You nodded, understandingly. “But darling, you can’t just be in your underwear in the human world ok?”

You quirked your head in confusion. “Why not? It’s nothing you haven’t seen.”

Jihoon choked on his saliva. “I-yes that’s true, but it’s not so much that as it’s just common practice to wear clothes to bed. Sometimes, the room is really cold, so you’ll want to bundle up, understand?”

“Yeah…” you hesitated. “Ok. It’s just…This material is kind of scratchy.”

“That’s my fault,” Jihoon sighed. He never really cared too much about the condition of his home clothes, so usually, he’d just throw them in the washer and dryer without using softening agents. It was safe to say that quite a few of his clothes were not in the most pristine condition due to his lack of care. “I promise, as soon as we get back to Seoul tomorrow, we’ll go out and get you some comfortable clothes to sleep in.”

You conceded with a nod, leaning into his chest. “Are you excited to go home tomorrow?”

Jihoon shrugged. “I guess. I don’t necessarily want to get back to my usual life, but it’ll be nice to have you with me. Are you excited?”

You were silent for a while. “Would you be upset if I said no?”

Jihoon pulled you away from his chest by your shoulders. “No, but I’d be concerned. What’s the matter?”

You turned your gaze down to your lap. “It’s not that I’m not excited to live in your home, with you. It’s just that…I still feel a bit connected to Faerieland here, amongst the trees and nature. I suppose I’m just going to feel homesick for a while.”

“I understand that, Y/N, and it’s normal. Moving away from home is not easy, and the transition is hard. It might be even harder for you since this is a completely different world, I won’t lie, but I promise to be with you every step of the way. If you tell me whatever you're feeling, whenever you feel down, I’ll do everything I can to make it better, ok?” Jihoon cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. His eyes were so full of love, you couldn’t help but surge forward to kiss him. A gasp of surprise caught in his throat as he quickly reciprocated.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips. “Thank you for finding me, for loving me, for giving me hope that I belong somewhere, with someone, with you.” You brought your right hand up to his chest, placing it over his heart. He did the same, leaning in to kiss you in time with the synchronized beating of your hearts.

“Wait,” Jihoon tried to speak, but you kept kissing him anyway. He chuckled, “Faerie, wait. We have to talk about the plan tomorrow.”

You shook your head vehemently, “Not right now.” You nipped at his bottom lip, smirking as he hissed. “Wanna keep doing this.”

With a firm hand and the shock factor on your side, you pushed Jihoon down onto the bed, crawling to sit on his thighs. You traced a lone finger along his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks. Your lips followed behind your finger, peppering kisses to every inch of his face. Jihoon’s hands came to grip your waist tightly as you moved to his neck, kisses becoming more firm, teeth nipping at the skin. You slipped your hands under the hem of his shirt, your touch tickling his abdomen.

Jihoon moved your face back to his, taking the lead to deepen the kiss this time. He moved a hand to your hair, fingers getting caught on the flowers thread into the ridges of the braids. Slowly, he sat up, still holding your body to his. Then he pulled away, pulling at the ribbon at the end of your braid, placing it gently on the bedside table.

“Turn around,” he murmured. You did so, wondering what he was doing as you felt the bed dip behind you. Jihoon was kneeling now, delicately undoing your hair, taking care not to crush any of the petals he pulled out. “Your hair looked so pretty, didn't want to ruin it.”

You tilted your head into his hands, humming as he massaged your scalp. “The younglings of the court did it for me. The Queen held a farewell ceremony for me, where I could hand over my powers to my successor and say goodbye to everyone. It’s also why I was wearing a much more intricate dress.” Jihoon took note of the dress you had draped onto the chaise lounge in the corner of his room, making a mental note to find a garment bag to place it in while packing tomorrow. “The flowers are handpicked from the Queen’s court. Nymphs rarely get to see those blooms, let alone hold them. I wish I had asked a flora nymph to enchant them so they would never wilt.”

Jihoon placed a kiss behind your ear, hoping to distract you from the regret seeping into your voice. “They are beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, causing you to giggle from the way his breath tickled, “but not nearly as beautiful as you.”

You snorted, and in that moment, you sounded more human than ever. “Cheesy.”

You squealed as Jihoon pulled you back onto the pillows, pinning your hands by your head as he hovered over you. “But it’s true, and I’ll tell you that over and over until I can’t speak a word anymore. I want it to be the first thing you hear in the morning and the last thing you hear before you go to bed. You’re beautiful. And I love you.”

You blushed, the color in your cheeks highlighted against the white pillows cushioning your head. Jihoon had a way with words that left you winded every time. “I love you too. Will you kiss me again?”

“Gladly.” Jihoon kissed you until you were breathless, and it filled him with pride. The last time you two were together, you were an otherworldly creature. You didn’t lose your breath when he kissed you. Your skin didn’t sweat or flush as much. You didn’t look affected by his ministrations at all. This time though, you were human, so your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your skin was pink and your bangs clung to your forehead, wet with perspiration.

And Jihoon loved it.

He walked the fingers of his left hand from your forearm to your own, entangling them. At the same time, he brought his right hand down to trace the top of your thigh, just below where the hem of his t-shirt lay. You shivered, his gentle touch causing a fire to ignite in your belly.

With one hand still holding your own, Jihoon slipped the other one under your shirt and up your body, placing it on your bra, over your breast. He used the tip of his index finger to trace down your cleavage.

You whined, “Don’t tease.”

Jihoon relented, pulling the cup of your bra down and squeezing your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly against his palm and you groaned into his mouth when he pinched it with his fingers. Now desperate for more, Jihoon moved his hand to your back, effortlessly undoing the clasp with one hand. Then, he pulled away, ripping your shirt, bra and panties off your body until you laid bare beneath him.

He stared, bewitched by your beauty. Last time, it was night and the moonlight was blocked by the tent, preventing Jihoon from truly seeing you. Now, with the illumination from the bedside lamps, Jihoon could truly admire you. He let his eyes roam every expanse of skin on your body. He took note of the moles and scars he couldn’t see before, each one adding to your beauty.

“You’re a vision, Y/N,” he whispered, not wanting to shatter the atmosphere enveloping you both. “Want to cherish every piece of you.” He placed a dainty kiss on your sternum. “Will you let me, my love?”

You answered with an impatient whimper, thrusting your chest towards his face. Jihoon let out a huff of laughter and took your nipple into his mouth. You tangled your fingers into his hair, forcing his mouth to your other breast after he spent a few minutes sucking and biting the first one raw.

Jihoon took his time with you, placing kisses and sucking bruises into the swell of your breasts, the plush of your belly, down to the tops of your thighs. Then he wrapped his hands around your knees, making them bend until your feet were pressed into the mattress before spreading them apart. He nearly groaned out loud at the way your pussy glistened with wetness. Sliding his arms down to wrap around your thighs, Jihoon used the grip to lurch your body down the bed, bringing your cunt to his mouth.

You squealed, back arching when you felt the suction of his lips on your clit. He hadn’t done this the last time, and the slippery sensation of Jihoon’s tongue was only feeding the flames in your belly. You wanted-

“More,” you moaned. “Need more Ji.”

“Yeah?” Jihoon traced your opening with his finger, dipping just his nail inside. “Little Faerie isn’t satisfied? Always greedy for more.”

You whined his name again, wriggling against the iron grip he had on your thighs that kept you from sliding down on his finger.

“Don’t worry, you know I’ll always take care of you.” With that, Jihoon slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them up until they brushed just right against your g-spot. Your hands shot down to his head, pressing him deeper into your pussy as you tried to push your knees together. Jihoon loosened his grip, allowing you to bring your thighs against his face, keeping him locked. Jihoon thought he’d be content to die like this, with a tombstone that read: Here lies Lee Jihoon, death by suffocation in pussy.

Your fingers curled tighter into his hair as you cried, “I’m so close. Jihoon.” One last suck of your clit was all it took, and with a strangled sob, you gushed around his fingers, the silken walls pulsating. Your hands flung from his hair to the sheets, where you gripped them like a lifeline. Jihoon held your ankles as your thighs quivered, hips nearly coming off the bed as you bent up like a bowstring. Your mouth was open as you let out a loud moan, eyes rolled back so far you could see white. After a few seconds, your legs fell limply to the bed as you came down from your high.

Jihoon laughed as he pressed a wet kiss to your lips. “You have to be more quiet, Faerie. Don’t want the other guys to hear what a deviant you really are.”

You muttered a sheepish apology as you wrapped your legs around Jihoon's waist, pitching your middle up to grind against the bulge in his pants. You pawed at his shirt, pulling at the collar to send him a message that you wanted it off. As Jihoon tore his shirt over his head, you pushed up onto your elbows, placing feather light kisses to his pecs. Your fingers slipped into the waistband of his pants, shoving it down, along with his boxers. Jihoon hissed at the way your hand encircled his hard cock, thumb grazing the tip to collect his precum and spread it down the shaft.

You waited until he managed to kick the fabric away from his ankles before gently tugging him forward with the hand on his dick, angling it towards your entrance.

“Already?” he asked, astounded. “You’re not sensitive?”

“Don’t care,” you mumbled, reaching up to place your lips against his ear. “I’m so desperate for you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon tipped his head towards the ceiling and groaned, “Fuuuuck.” When he looked down at you again, now splayed out onto the sheets like a doll, his pupils were blown, eyes alight with desire. “I’m gonna ruin you, Faerie.”

He flipped you over, hauling you onto your knees. He pressed his chest to your back, guiding the corner of the duvet into your mouth. “Bite down on this. You’ll need it to stay quiet.” You did as he asked, earning a kiss to your temple before he leaned back up.

Then, he brought his cock to you, tracing the tip of it along your pussylips to gather the slickness. “Ready?”

One nod was all it took for Jihoon to thrust the entirety of his length into you. Your eyes screwed shut, scream muffled by the cloth in your mouth. Jihoon set off at an incredible speed, the force moving your body up towards the headboard. A veiny forearm wrapped around your chest, just under your tits, yanking you up onto all fours. Your teeth dug into the duvet, refusing to let it go despite it being wet with your saliva and tears.

“You’re so tight baby,” Jihoon’s voice was strained, as if it was taking everything he had not to come at the sensation of your cunt gripping him. He bit down onto your shoulder, sucking a constellation of bruises onto your shoulder blade.

A particularly sharp thrust caused your mouth to drop open in a strangled gasp. “Feels so good, oh my God, oh,” you babbled. “Thought about this every day since I left. Needed it so badly. Ached for you, Jihoon.”

“Naughty nymph,” Jihoon mock scolded. “Bet you touched yourself thinking about me, huh? All alone in the dark, trying so hard to stay quiet, with your little fingers stuffed in your pussy. It wasn’t enough though was it? Needed me there with you, to feel you, touch you, make you cum. Isn’t that right.”

“Yes, wasn't enough without you,” you moaned. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

“Never,” Jihoon growled, the hand not holding you up moving to draw messy circles on your clit. “You’re mine, Faerie. Gonna fuck you like this every hour of every day. Never letting you off my cock.”

You cried his name like a prayer, letting his words send you crashing into your second orgasm. It felt wet and slippery. You could feel the inside of your things get soaked, but you didn’t have the energy to care. All you had left in you was one last clench of your walls, and it was just enough to send Jihoon to his release as well. He groaned loudly, fingers digging into your sides so hard you were sure the skin would bruise. His hips were pressed tightly against your ass, breath warm against your spine where his head was resting. Together, you both flopped forward onto the bed.

You laid there, wrapped up in each other, until your breathing returned to normal. Jihoon shivered as he pulled out of you, placing an apologetic kiss to your shoulder when you whined. “Have to clean you up, love. One minute.”

After using a wet cloth to wipe you both down, he sent you to the bathroom. In the meantime, he replaced the sheets on the bed, shocked at the amount of wetness soaking them. That’s something we’ll have to explore again, he thought.

When you returned from the bathroom, he slipped his shirt onto your body again, joining you under the duvet after slipping on a fresh pair of boxers himself. He smiled as you snuggled up to his side, placing your ear against his heart.

“I love you, my Fate. I’m so thankful that it’s you I get to be with for the rest of my days,” you whispered, eyelids getting heavy.

“Me too, my love. Me too,” Jihoon said, placing a kiss on your head as you fell asleep. He was still unsure how to bring you up to the agency, and how to assimilate you into his life in the human world, but that was a worry for tomorrow. For right now, he chose to revel in how perfectly you fit in his arms, and how his heartbeat matched your own. He chose to trust the universe, because it brought him to you.

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #kpop #fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen smut #lee jihoon #jihoon #woozi #svt woozi #seventeen woozi #jihoon x reader #jihoon fluff #jihoon smut #woozi x reader #woozi smut #woozi fluff #seventeen fic

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spencerreidswhore187 · 2 years ago

Text

Checkmate (Part Two)

By @spencerreidswhore187 for @sackofpissandshit

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: Spencer finds out that reader is not who he thought they were. (Lots of angst)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Unsub (g!n) Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

TW: Death, seizures, hemlock poisoning, hospitals and a brief mention of suicide.

A/N: Hi! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged and followed Checkmate (Part one), it means the world to me. Sorry it’s taken a couple of days to upload - I’ve been working so many shifts ugh - anyway, I wrote this on the bus and did not proof read, I hope you enjoy.

You’d always mocked Romeo for being so rash but, as you stood hyperventilating over Spencer’s body, your first instinct was to drink the rest of the poison from the tiny vial in your pocket.

You were in shock. You needed to snap out of it. He’d not ingested enough to kill him instantly; you had a only few minutes to save him.

You collapsed onto your knees and checked Spencer’s pulse - it was weak. But still there. He’s alive, you reminded yourself. Alive. Alive. Alive.

If you were thinking rationally, you’d have left the building. Maybe tip somebody off so that they could find Spencer. If you were thinking rationally, you’d have recalled that Ben would kill you if you saved Spencer’s life. But none of that mattered, not when the only person you cared about was seizing in front of you.

You forced yourself off your feet and attempted to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. What have I done, you chided yourself.

Running to the bedside table, you grabbed the landline telephone and dialled ‘911’.

The automated voice startled you, “Ambulance, fire or police?”

“Ambulance,” you whispered into the receiver.

Your malicious, manipulative, mastermind facade had dropped. You were hardly recognisable as the person you were moments ago. You didn’t know what you’d do if Spencer, your spence, was not okay.

“Hello?” A deep male voice echoed through the receiver.

“I-Help me. Help please,” you begged frantically.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Um…Y/N Reid.” You couldn’t breathe. You’d placed a pillow under Spencer’s head and you’d pulled him towards your lap. His body wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Okay, Y/N. Listen to my voice and take a deep breathe…that’s it. I need you to calm down and tell me what’s happening,” the first responder asked.

“My…my boyfriend he’s been poisoned. And he’s seizing. Oh my god, please help, he won’t…he won’t stop seizing,” you choked back a sob.

“Can you tell me where you are? Help is on the way.”

“[your address]. I-hurry. Please hurry. He’s an agent. An FBI agent.” It hurt to remind yourself of his job, that he’d lied to you. But that didn’t matter, not now.

You heard a phone dialling in the background.

“Y/N, can you tell me your boyfriend’s name.”

“Spencer Reid. D-Dr Spencer Reid from the Behaviour Analysis Unit in um Quantico.”

“An ambulance is almost with you. Y/N, he’s going to be okay. Is he still seizing?”

You whispered, “no.”

“Can you check his pulse for me?”

You did what he asked, it was painfully slow.

“Do you know what substance he ingested?”

“It was-”

There was a sharp knock at the door followed by heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

You hung up the phone as the paramedics rushed to Spencer’s collapsed form.

Everything was a blur. You were barely aware of what was happening.

You watched their lips move as they shouted questions at you that you barely heard. You watched them start chest compressions on Spencer. You frantically chewed at your nails as they placed him on a stretcher and carried him out of your house.

You remembered when you’d bought it. Spencer had held your hand as you explored the empty rooms. He’d hugged you from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to his favourite spot - where your neck me your shoulder. As both of you examined the rooms he rambled random facts about windows and the wall fixings. You loved it when he rambled. You would stare in awe as he counted off numerous statistics.

You’d eaten Chinese take out on the living room floor after you’d bought it. The furniture hadn’t arrived yet. You stayed up all night talking, kissing among other things. You were both so happy then. You’d thought you had escaped Ben, escaped that lifestyle after years of doing whatever he told you.

That blissful dream ended thirteen months ago.

You followed the two paramedics to the ambulance, about to follow them in when you felt a cold hand on your shoulder that instantly snapped you back to reality.

You turned to face the tall blonde woman behind you. You recognised her from a picture on Spencer’s phone. JJ, you thought her name was. Her children were Spencer’s godsons. Or maybe he’d lied about that too.

Luke Alvez, who Spencer had briefly introduced you to in a coffee shop several weeks ago, placed handcuffs around your wrists as JJ read your rights, “Y/N L/N you are under arrest for the twenty four counts of first degree murder as well as the attempted murder of FBI agent Dr Spencer Reid.”

As the world collapsed around you, you watched the ambulance drive away - sirens flashing through the melancholy city.

——————————————————————————

It was Penelope who’d gotten the call. She’d dropped her pink octopus mug when she was told that “Dr Spencer Reid had been poisoned and was on his way to the hospital.”

The rest of the team had been waiting anxiously at the round table. Spencer had insisted on going after you alone, Emily and JJ had protested but Rossi and Tara had agreed with Reid. You were dangerous. Deadly, even. They needed the element of surprise and that was something they’d only achieve if he followed his usual routine and went home to you alone.

It broke Penelope’s heart to see him like that. Spencer had looked exhausted and so broken. She wanted to give him a hug but she observes the way he flinched away anytime someone tried to touch him or offer comfort.

Penelope ran out of her office to the others.

It was Rossi who spoke first, “Garcia what’s wrong?” He asked, observing her dishevelled state as Penelope stood shaking in the doorway, “what happened?”

JJ spoke next, “is Reid okay?”

“I-no. No he’s not.” The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“Penelope…” said Emily.

“A 911 call just came through from his house. He’s been poisoned, an ambulance is on it’s way. Reid…Spencer,” She inhaled sharply, “is unconscious.”

“Then who made the-”

Luke finally spoke up, “Y/N. It was Y/N.”

“But why would they call for help after trying to kill him?” Asked Tara.

No one spoke for what felt like minutes.

Emily finally answered, “it’s doesn’t matter. We need to get to that house now. Lewis, Rossi, you’re with me. JJ, you go with Alvez.”

“What about me?” Penelope questioned weakly, “I can’t…I can’t just stay here and do nothing, waiting for a call.”

“Go to the hospital, we’ll meet you there as soon as possible.”

Penelope nodded, relieved.

As they left the room, Luke hugged Penelope, “he’ll be okay, Garcia. I promise. They wont get away with this.”

——————————————————————————

When he awoke, the first thing he smelt was jello. He loved jello.

“Can I have some of that…please,” Spencer implored.

It was quickly followed by a squeal as Penelope through her arms around him.

“Spencer, you’re okay! Thank god you’re okay. I was so scared. We all were.”

Slowly he began to notice the beeping machines around them and the dull throbbing in the back of his head. He winced.

“Do you want me to get the doctor? I should tell her that you’re awake and-”

Spencer interrupted her rambling, “what happened?”

“You were given a near lethal dose of hemlock.”

Shit. He cursed to himself, remembering something he had read.

“Conium maculatum, colloquially known as hemlock, poison hemlock or wild hemlock, is a highly poisonous biennial herbaceous flowering plant…how did I…”

“Y/N,” Garcia whispered, staring at the hospital room floor.

The memories all came flooding back to him then. The truth of who you really were, the things - the illegal things - you had done. He Spencer recalled all the lies. It hurt more than his body did.

He fought tears. He would not cry over you, Spencer refused.

“Did you find them?”

He was surprised to hear answer “yes.”

“What? But if poisoning me was their escape plan, how did you find them so quickly? How long have I been unconscious?”

None of this made sense.

“Y/N, well, they made the call Spencer. They stayed with you the whole time. JJ and Luke arrested them when they were following you into the ambulance. They’ve been in an interrogation room for three days, Rossi and Tara are with them…you’ve been unconscious for three day.”

Spencer was going to be sick.

Emily, JJ and Alvez rushed into the room.

“You’re alive,” they gushed, “you’re okay!”

Spencer wasn’t listening. He didn’t care.

He stared at Emily who almost immediately understood what he was about to ask.

“No, Reid. Absolutely not.”

“I need to see them. I need you to take me to Y/N.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Part three will be uploaded in the coming days ◡̈

————————————————————————————————————————

If you would like to be added to the tag list comment or message me.

Taglist: @sackofpissandshit @ara-a-bird @princess-ofthe-pages @catsinaspacesuit

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds evolution #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #unsub reader #checkmate #conan gray #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #luke alvez #tara lewis #dave rossi #criminal minds fanfiction

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y0ukn0wme · 1 year ago

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TILL WAR DO US PART - 2

Capitano x F!Reader

Warnings: Injured reader, blood, injury, mentions of war, angst, use of pet names, OOC Capitano?, time skip, malnourished body, kissing, comas, emotional distress, grief, violence.

Word Count: 1724

A/N: Dropping part 2 after 8 months of no uploads because a user by the name of @mikrou reblogged part 1 and made a comment that had me blushing, so I thought I’d grace them and everyone else who liked the first one with another one. Thanks @mikrou, lots of kisses for you from me. Part 1

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Distant screams and echoes of thunderous explosions resonated amidst memories emerged. The stench of smoke from burning buildings and soldiers, the taste of fear that hung in the air was akin to that of a heavy smog, and then there was the deafening sound of gunfire and the clashing of swords.

The Second Archon War.

It had torn apart Teyvat, leaving scars not only on the landscape but etched deep into everyone's souls. The weight of being an aide in this war was a burden, one you couldn’t shake.

Faces flashed – comrades in arms, friends that had been lost to the raging war and their loss of absence was deeply etched into the few who remembered them. There was a desperation to remember and honour their sacrifice for the greater good... their families... for the Tsaritsa herself.

Just as the memories began to resurface, something was pulling you away from them. They were becoming distant, unclear to the eyes. NO! NOT YET! Even with the desperate pleas to stay and recall such memoirs, they fell on deaf ears to whoever was prying you away from them.

The memories receded, sinking deep into the depths from where they came, unsure if they were to ever resurface again.

…

With a gasp, you yanked into awareness, your eyes snapping open albeit with a heavy feeling attached to them, as if they hadn't opened for a century. The familiar amber hue to the room made you relax, a welcoming sight in contrast to the war you had just been actively participating in.

Your heart raced as you struggled to make the connection – the battlefield and this room. Your body felt heavy and sluggish, as if waking from a deep slumber as you sat up to get a better view. Your eyes slowly swept over the room, you were alone.. But the familiarity of this large room was unclear to you until you saw the red chaise lounge seated by the large window, opposite to the hearthy fire.

You were… home.

Home…

Home?...

Why were you home? In bed lying down as if you had just taken the world's longest nap without a care in the world, as if there was no war going on and as if you hadn’t just been in battle fighting! – fighting? A sharp pain coiled through your head as you began to remember, your hands holding your head.

You and the 12th company had engaged in active combat with the Millelith from Liyue. While your company was large and vastly experienced, the Millelith had the high ground in terms of landscape and your soldiers stood no chance. But nonetheless, you remembered pushing forward with your company even if the odds had been decided. You and your soldiers had taken quite a bit of ground before you felt the familiar feeling of the hollowing ache.

You had been pierced in the side of your waist by… who had stabbed you? All you can remember is a polearm… and a mask… a… Yaksha. The realisation hit you then.

General Alatus.

The one who had taken you down was him. You shook the memory from your mind before peering down and pulling the clean shirt that you wore up to where your wound should have been, but all that remained was a large scar. You traced a hand over it, feeling a small phantom pain as you admired it.

You pulled your shirt back down. How long had it been since the battle? A wound such as the one you had would have taken weeks to properly heal. Has it been that long since you had gone out? You pushed the blankets away from yourself and looked over the rest of your body. You had lost most – if not all of the muscle you had before, you even looked slightly malnourished in your eyes.

You slowly turned to the side, your legs dangling off the edge. It’s not that you were short… you were quite tall but the bed had been lifted a long time ago for Capitano to comfortably get in and out of.

Where was he? Now that you thought of it. You slowly stood up, taking time to get used to standing again, it felt quite dizzying to be moving again after who knows how long… You looked around the room once again, the only sound coming from the fireplace. The floor slightly creaked as you made your way to the red chaise lounge, kneeling on it as you placed a hand on the window that overlooked the forest that you so intimately remember.

You let out a steady breath, the window fogging up in return and a small smile graced your lips at the reaction and watched as snow continued to fall and heavily blanketed the estate outside, too engrossed in watching even that you had not heard the bedroom door creak open.

“Flame…”

The deep voice from behind startled you, causing you to turn toward its direction before you relaxed as you realised who it belonged to. Capitano stood in between the doorway, not moving a muscle as he watched you, his helm still on.

A smile crossed your face as you took him in with your eyes, it relaxed you to know you were allowed to see your husband again since your last reunion had seemed like the last you’d ever get.

Just as you were about to speak and take a step towards him, Capitano stalked towards you,, his hands clad in armour found your shoulders, squeezing them a tad to make sure you couldn’t move, like he thought this was a dream and you’d simply vanish. He peered down at you, his breath hot and heavy as he took you in.

“Capitano…”

As soon as you spoke his name, the large giant crashed to his knees in front of you, his hands grabbing onto your pants. It was most definitely a surprise to you nonetheless to see the man you loved kneeling down in front of you. His grip tightened around you to make sure you couldn’t leave.

“Oh, love…” your heart broke as you looked at him, your hands trailing underneath his helm and finding their place on his ice cold cheeks, your thumbs gently rubbing beneath his eyes. You frowned onced you noticed the slight shaking that came from him. “Dear… tell me what is wrong.” You said gently.

To Capitano, it seemed as if his prayers were answered by the Tsaritsa herself, even though he did not pray, he would do so on your behalf if it had meant you’d wake up one day – and you had.

“I thought… I had lost you Dove.” You looked at him with widened eyes.

“No, I am right here husband. I-” You words fell through as you listened to him continue.

“First I thought it’d be because of how much blood you had lost from your wounds, but then… you fell asleep… and didn't wake up.” You lowered yourself on the red chaise, listening to him as he spoke.

“Everyday… I hoped and I prayed for you to wake! But you didn’t!” His voice raised in volume, but not at you – never at you. He had just been so frustrated with being so useless to help you wake sooner. Your eyes began to gloss over as tears threatened to fall from our eyes.

“I-I am sorry, husband. I did not mean too.” Your voice shook with heavy emotion, your hands holding onto his cheeks just a little tighter. “I am here now though, you need not worry any longer. I have only been out for a few weeks at most and here I am, back in your arms.” You spoke softly even though tears lined up under your eyes, ready to spill but didn’t.

“A few weeks?... No dove…” Capitano slowly released you from his grasp, sliding his helm off and placing it on the floor before his attention was back on you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you looked over your husband's rugged and handsome face, it had been awhile since you even saw it, perhaps even just before the war began.

You admired his face, running your hands all over it because of how dearly you had missed it – him. He leaned into every touch you gave him, leaning in closer so there was no more space between the two of you.

The two of you stared at each other for quite a while, basking in each other's presence because who knows how long it had been since the two of you were last like this – looking at each other, being together.

The deep and intense kiss between the two of you was no surprise either, it was rough and desperate but neither of you mind. He tasted and smelt the same as ever – dewy moss in the woodlands surrounding the estate, with a hint of cigars and sweat lingering. For him, you tasted as you always have, the refreshing and relaxing scent of carnations lapped over his lips and nose.

Oh how he had missed this… how he had missed you.

When the two of you pulled away from each other, it felt as if you two had finally become one again after so long.

Capitano placed a hand on a cheek of yours and you immediately melted into his touch. Neither of you spoke for a minute, just enjoying the moment.

Till he told you,

Just how long it had been since you slept.

“It has been eight months since you have slept my dear.”

In that instant, it felt as if the blade had pierced you anew.

You looked at your husband with wide eyes… and the tears began to uncontrollably fall.

—

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koy0uu · 1 year ago

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“Off with their heads”

Summary: In which Executor Rosehearts thinks about the future Queen…

Ship: Executor!Riddle Rosehearts X [future] Queen of Hearts!Reader

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Warnings: Mentions of beheading, public executions and blood. Riddle is an executor in this after all! Also some yandere-ish behaviour from Riddle

Author’s Note: Hello my dear costumers~ I am sincerely sorry for having been gone for 4 months. Writer’s block and school had me GOOD, sadly. I’ve been to “Shanti” by wotaku ft KAITO and it actually inspired me to write this haha. I also have multiple drafts going on, let’s see if I manage to upload them and finish them any time soon. Aside from that, I will use this as an announcement for my art sideblog @sirins-void on which I actually upload. Until then, this must suffice.

SPECIAL THANKS TO: My one and only Queen @l0laaa-ita for supporting me and being such an inspiration! Ilysm 💕

Word Count: 438

It is a soldier’s duty to serve his Queen. Anything she wants, she shall get. That is a soldier’s duty. That is what Riddle Rosehearts swore his life to. To protect you and listen to your every beck and call; his Queen’s happiness above all. And yet, how come he was jealous of every single one of your suitors? None of them were worthy! That was why he felt such joy and relief when you dismissed every single one your parents brought in, right? He merely wanted the best for the future Queen of Hearts, is all. That was precisely why he was always around you. To fulfil his duty of course. Not because of ridiculous reasons like him wanting to be the suitor you chose - Trey and Cater really did have radiant fantasies, spewing atrocities on his precious Queen’s name by claiming that “she’ll never find a suitor if she keeps rejecting everyone.” You were merely a lady of high status, beauty and Grace - it’s only natural you’d want to find someone just like that for yourself.

You only deserve the best. Anything below that is merely an insult to your excellency. That was why he accepted becoming an executor anyways - sure, his position as a soldier was just as good, however getting to serve you so closely, and ridding all those worthless bastards of their life at your command was just what he wanted. Sometimes, even he had such ridiculous thoughts, that told him that only he was worthy of you. He’s already killed so much for you, he’s serving you every day, and he is the servant you’re the closest with. You laughed and cried in front of him - he’s seen all your sides, and Riddle’s accepted them all, growing indeed fond of them all. A beautiful Queen with a beautiful heart; someone who all the blood on his hands was the bare minimum. He’d do anything for you. As a soldier, as a friend, aspiring to be more than that… So, what difference would it make if there were two matching rings on your fingers?

Unlike those swines your parents sought for you to marry, he did not care about the throne at all, but merely about you as a person. Your beauty may have intrigued him at first, but in the end it was the beauty of your personality, your kindness, your forgiving smile, your slight guilt of him having to behead the judged criminals for your sake. Slowly but surely, Riddle had understood just how precious your pure soul was. And he had no intentions letting anybody taint it, no matter what.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

All credits belong to @koy0uu on tumblr. Please do not steal my works! Reblogs are appreciated though :D

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #alternate universe #executor riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland riddle x reader #twst #twst riddle #twst riddle x reader #i think that’s all the tags

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that-one-anxious-mango · 2 years ago

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Heyyy ☺️ I love this series sooo much, it is so nice to see Austin stories that involve a black reader. Not having to edit the story in my head to make it fit me is wonderful 🥰. For your Drabble event could you do either first date or a special date that they have had? Thank you 💕 💕

20 Questions.

Summary: It’s a in-house date night with Austin and his best girl. Where you get to know them and they get to know each other!

Contents: Fluff ofc! Mentions of deceased relatives. Little angst if you squint. Slight steaminess. Austin and his best girl being the cutest.

A/N: Hi Beautiful Humans! It’s me! I hope y’all of you are having a wonderful time. Just wanted to go ahead and drop this off for you guys and also give some special shout-outs to:

@pennyroyalcreep for not only this lovely prompt, but also for your continued love and support with my work. ❤️

@purejasmine one of the sweetest people I know and a absolutely amazing writer. Thanks for always supporting and creating.

I also wanna thank @adoreyouusugar , @denised916, and @homebodybirkin2003 whose comments never cease to make me smile.

And to everyone else who I may have missed. THANK YOU. I truly appreciate it.

Moving on I am also officially starting a tag list. As I plan to upload some things this week. So if you’d like to be added please leave a :) in the comments.

Thank you all!

P.S Everyone feel free to PLEASE comment and reblog. Also send me letters with idea and prompts. Love hearing from you all. Much love! * hugs*

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Today was Friday.

Which also meant it was date night.

And with it being quite gloomy outside for the usual LA weather the two of you had decided that it'd be the perfect day to have a in-house date night. You insisted that tonight you would to try and cook for your man a simple meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup.

A skeptical but supportive Austin would go on to happily watch you not only blacken all attempts at the grilled cheese, but also burn the poor tomato soup that you forgot to add enough water to.

And once the tears started rolling, in real Austin fashion he'd wrapped you in a blanket and placed you on the couch promising to return. After cleaning up your food fail he pulled out all the ingredients he needed and made a hell of a good pan of pasta.

After some feeding, cuddling, finger fucking , and napping. The two of you had decided that a more PG-13 activity was in order. With that you suggested a game that you'd been wanting to play with Austin for a while. Let's get deep: 20 question edition.

" Okay. Here we go, number one." You listened to Austin while you giggled staring down at the stacks of cards in front of you and then back up at Austin, who looked on in amusement. " What movie was so sad that you would never watch it again? " He asked.

" Mmmm." You thought for a minute, there were plenty but really you could only narrow it down to two, " I think I would definitely have to say either Dumbo or Fruitvale Station. I can't choose. You can only watch both once." You affirmed.

" Watching Dumbo is a traumatizing experience that no child of any age should be subjected to at all. Like just the first thirty minutes was enough for me to need a lifelong therapist. And as far as Fruitvale Station goes...I feel that the content overview speaks for itself. It's a beautiful movie, but I could barely make it through til the end." You explained.

Austin nodded, " I seen Dumbo a long time ago when I was little and all I remember is this very strong urge to go hug my mom after watching. " He said making you smile, " But I haven't seen Fruitvale Station. No particular reason why, it's just never happened."

" Understandable." You nodded reaching to grab another card off one of the piles.

" My turn. Two. What's the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person?" You moved your eyes to look at him in curiosity.

Almost immediately he said, " People who floss."

Amused in question you went, " Really? Why? "

" Yeah. I don't know. But in a weird way to me. It shows that you care about yourself. Like babe, do you know how many people don't floss. Ever." He explained.

And the more you thought about it, he was right. Gross.

But lucky for you, you didn't have that problem seeing as your upbringing had made you a bit of a dental freak. So you hit all the points in that department.

" Yeah. I guess I see your point. " You said just as a thought passed in your mind, " So, do you find it attractive when I floss." You goofed biting a bit of your upper lip.

Laughing at you he leaned over to plant a hardy peck to your lips, pulling away to say, " Makes my dick jump every time, sweetheart." He half whispered sending the two of you into a short fit of laughter.

" Alright alright alright. Next. Three. " He moved to pick up a card, " Describe our relationship in three words." He asked.

Even though you had to think a bit, it didn't take you long before you had your three words, " Meaningful.....Honest.... Adaptive. " You answered.

Eyes glimmering in happiness and satisfaction Austin questioned, " I know these are suppose to be short but, care to elaborate please."

" Well, I feel it's meaningful because literally almost everything we do has some type of meaning behind it. Like when you got me the fern. Or when I gave you the blanket. There's always some type of love behind everything. Plus you mean so much to me and in-turn I mean so much to you, which I guess in general terms makes us meaningful..right?" You giggled trying your best to explain your thoughts in the best way you could.

But Austin understood what you meant, he felt his heart swelling bigger and bigger by the moment, " I see. So what about honest?"

" I feel our relationship is also built around honesty. I know I've told you this before but throughout my life I've encountered a great deal of liars and that's something that I really didn't wanna come into my adult life with. Unavoidable I know. And especially in a relationship. " You began, " But with you, from the day that we sat down, listening to you be so open and honest with me when at the time I was just a complete stranger to you. It made me feel something. And from then on I've never ever had to second guess anything or feel like your keeping things from me. It's refreshing and I value that." You explained.

Austin listened intently thinking back to the first hours the two of you had spent together talking after he'd finished reading you the book. Hearing you talk about how surprised you were hearing Austin talk the way he did shocked him a bit. He hadn't really ever realized just how personal the two of you had gotten in that short amount of time. But to him now, that was just proof that this was something special from the start.

" And finally I think we're adaptive because whether it be your schedule or mine that keeps up from doing traditional couples stuff. We make it work. We adapt to whatever challenge we face together. And that's important." You finished offering a smile.

Austin return your feeling of content displaying a smile of his own. He was so happy to be with you. And to be building the kind of relationship where it's foundations were things like these. Things that would help the two of you last, because all in all. That was goal.

" I think all of that is really accurate and beautiful, mama. I love you." He said reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips and press a gentle kiss to it.

" I love you, Aus." You returned reaching that same hand to palm his cheek.

The two of you continued your little moment before moving forward.

" Number four. Name something that you wish you could do but can't." You asked.

Teasing Austin said, " Gain the ability to say no to you."

You rolled your eyes playfully. " Be serious, Austin."

Laughing some more he says, " I am being serious, woman. You have no idea the power you hold over me. It's like you just know all you have to do is bat those pretty lashes at me and say please, to turn me into a sucker." He informed.

Your smile widen, " Really? "

Austin nodded leaning back against the couch, " Awe don't be coy. Really, mama."

You sounded a ' Hmmph '.

" Well I'll just have to keep that in mind then, huh?" You said shooting him a glance.

Smirking he replied, " Don't go getting too many good ideas."

" I won't."

With that he leaned up to send a squeeze to your thigh before reaching and grabbing another card.

" Mm. This is a good one." Austin's lips twitched up into a smirk while he shot you a look.

" Oh god." You laughed rolling your eyes, " Dare I ask? "

" Yes, please dare." He wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed, " Go ahead then."

" Five, If there's a particular part of you I should touch to get you in the mood. Where would it be?" He questioned.

Playfully humming while placing your pointer finger to the corner of your lips, the curiosity of wanting to know where he thought it was himself popped in," Before I answer where do you think it is, Mr. Butler?"

" Well, honey." He sighed leaning back against the couch," Based on months of bountiful research and exhausting observations. I'd have to say it'd be your neck."

Dammit.

He was right. You loved when he touched your neck. It always left you breathless in more ways than one.

" You sure, " You challenged figuring to keep your cool," Because if I recall your always touching my thighs."

And it was true. If the two of you were laying down to read or watch a movie Austin either had to have his head rested in your lap or hands stuffed between the crevices of your thighs. In the car, Austin only drove with his left hand because his right was specially reserved for your thigh. Whenever your being a little bratty or you say something about yourself that Austin isn't fond of, you better believe he is going to send a good little pinch to your thigh before kissing the spot all better.

" That's because their my particular part of you that gets me in the mood." He informed looking at you while gliding a singular finger up your thigh to the hemline of the shorts you wore. Still never dropping eye contact he continued, " But I know it's your neck because whenever we make love and I run my hand across your neck or decide to take a good little grip on it. That my love, is when you come for me the hardest." He finished.

By now that same finger had turned into a full hand that had found it's way up to get a nice gentle but firm hold on your neck. He softly used it to pull you to him and place a nice sloppy kiss to your lips making a moan release from your throat.

Pulling back he let go with a smug grin on his face to your annoyed but disheveled expression before motioning for you to draw a card while you tried to collect yourself.

Once you had settled the waves below, you a bit shakily grab the next card, clearing your throat, " Okay. Six. What is one activity that makes you feel alive?"

Without a doubt Austin knew his answer, " Easy. Horseback riding. Nothing like making that bond with a horse, the trust you build with them is pure. And then being out and open with nature. Clearing your mind and body. It's refreshing." He explained. " I think that's why filming The Shannara Chronicles was one of my favorite projects so far." He furthered grabbing a sip of the Yerbamate on the table.

" Yep and I'll have to take your word for it, babe." You quickly chirped making Austin sigh.

Ever since you and Austin had stumbled on the topic of horseback riding one day and you had revealed to him that while you thought horses were absolutely majestic and beautiful from a distance, under no circumstances would you ever consider getting on one. Period. And to him this was a great injustice...almost as big as when you told him you didn't like PB & J's.

You shuddered at the thought.

" Baby for the thousandth time. I'm telling you it's not as scary as you think it is. And you won't know until you try it. That thing with the girl was just a freak accident. That's a exception." Austin tried to argue but still you just shook your head unphased. You knew what you'd witnessed all those years back and you were good.

" Austin." You started, " The poor girl broke her back and part of her collarbone after one of them threw her off and fell on her. I seen it happen. It's like he WWE smushed her ass on the ground." You recalled watching a friend of a friend in high-school's scary interaction with the creature. It was terrifying. " Plus I'm pretty sure that she wasn't exactly ever the same in the membrane after that either." You added thinking about some of the antics the girl had gotten into post injury.

Austin blew out a breath, " Honey, while I think the situation is terrible. I'm pretty sure there was other factors that went into the happening. But I'm telling you that it's not normally like that. You just have to trust yourself and the horse."

Hearing him you still you were unchanged and really wanting to chance the topic so you came up with the compromise, " Okay okay okay. I hear you, Aus. And I'll think about it some more okay." You suggested shooting him a look to send the message that you were ready to move on.

Taking the hint he settled for what you were giving with a somber smile and moved to pick up another card, " So the next one is a little heavier, if that's alright?" Austin questioned staring down at the card.

Feeling like you could fully trust him you nodded, " Go head, babe." You prompted preparing yourself.

" Seven, in your opinion which is worse. Emotional or physical cheating? " He asked looking directly into your eye line.

" Oh." You spoke. It wasn't like you couldn't answer or that this wasn't something the two of you hadn't discussed. It was just a bit of a uncomfortable topic was all.

" Well being honest..." You trailed looking over to his face that was locked in on yours.

" Yeah." Austin encouraged.

Taking a second to collect your thoughts you began, " Like I said before, cheating no matter what is a deal breaker for me. But, being honest I think their equally as bad in opinion. I know anyone can argue it anyway. But the way I see it is that it takes something emotional in the first place to drive someone to cheat physically. I feel like if we're in a exclusive relationship where we're trusting and committing our bodies to only each other and you go and share that part of you with someone else it's a betrayal. And same thing with emotional. If we're in a relationship and I'm giving my all to let you know that there isn't anything that you should feel like you can't come to me about, and you still go and share those parts with someone else. That's also pretty bad so..." You finished looking him directly in eye.

Austin nodded taking in what you were saying completely. This wasn't his first time hearing you express your expectations when it came to this type of dishonesty, but it was good to hear again all the same, " I hundred precent agree with everything you've said. And vice versa over here. I think our communication is good enough to where we can communicate our needs effectively to each other. But I still want you to know that we're never going to get to that point, honey. That's one of the reasons that ring is on your finger. It's a promise." Austin sincerely confessed making your heart expand.

You peaked down at the promise ring on your finger and then back at Austin.

" I know."

" Good."

" Alrighty moving on. Eight. Is applesauce suppose to be warm or cold? " You posed.

" Cold." Austin immediately responded, " That's the only right answer."

You nodded, " I whole-heartedly agree. And I'm glad to know that you aren't a nutjob. "

" Noted. Next." Austin laughed picked up a card, " Nine. What is something that you wanna like but just can't? "

You sighed in faked despair, " Saunas. I really wanted to be that girl. The insta-fit chick that has the whole sauna self care bit going. But I realized how much I really don't like being sweaty unless absolutely necessary. " You informed to a smirking Austin.

Before he could open his mouth you reiterated, " I SAID ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY."

His hands shot up in defense while he snickered, " All I was going to ask was if you wanted to get sweaty later. But seeing as that wouldn't be absolutely necessary. I guess not." He shrugged.

Smacking your teeth you grabbed a pillow to childishly toss at Austin while you tell him that getting sweaty with him will always be absolutely necessary in your book. " I'll hold you to that." He says shooting you the infamous look.

" Look forward to it. But first we have to finish this before we start something else, " You remind him picking up a new card, " Ten. Name the most fond memory you have with your moth-" You stopped mid- question instantly regretting asking, you hadn't meant to bring it up. Idiot.

Quickly you tried to shift and grab another card while shooting him a sympathetic look, " I'm sorry, babe. I- I should have read the card in my head before I read it out lo-"

But he halted your movement softly grabbing your hand, " It's okay It's alright, B-"

" No, Austin it's not I sho-"

" You should just go ahead and let me answer. I promise it's okay. Matter of fact..I want to." He said holding your eye contact to show you he was sincere until you agreed leaning back.

" I know I've said this in interviews before, but growing up not to faraway from Disney and Knotts Berry, my mom and I would go all the time. Finish all my homework earlier in the day and then drive over. We used to spend hours riding the rides or just sitting on the park benches and talking. Because I was so shy and homeschooled on top of it she was bestfriend. I could sit and talk to her about anything....God I miss her." Austin reminisced bringing a smile to his face. You could see the tears forming in his eyes and in return yours did the same.

Instinctively you reached out to him which he accepted offering you a spot on his lap.

You held onto him in silence drinking in his warmth and touch while enjoying the quiet comfort you were offering through the silent intimacy. The two of you stayed just like that for awhile. Your head against his chest listening to the melody of his heartbeat and feeling the weight of his head rested on yours. His hands ran up and down your spine gripping and rubbing.

You felt oddly harmonious with each other.

The two of you stayed like that before you let go when the brilliant idea of desert popped in your mind. Remembering that Beatrice had dropped off a royal raspberry drizzle cheesecake. You went to the kitchen coming back with two plates carrying carefully sliced pieces. You were sure this would lighten the mood.

Austin smiled taking his plate and offering you a " Thank you, baby." And a kiss to the temple.

From there you resumed your game.

" Eleven. What is the most precious or important thing you own? " Austin asked before taking the bite of cheesecake you were offering.

" Um. " You sounded setting the desert plate on the coffee table, " Well, babe. I'm gonna have to cheat a little bit." You confessed.

" Oh. How's that." Austin inquired.

" I'm gonna have to list some things." You confirmed.

Smiling Austin says, " I'll allow it."

" Good. Okay so the most precious and important things I own in no particular order is my promise ring, the blanket my mom made me, our fern, my mother's ring, and my lucky smiley hat." You listed.

" You know I love when you wear that hat." He laughed, " You always look so cute. Remember when you wore it when we went to go see the jazz band in the park. Everyone tried to steal it off of you."

" Yeah it was quite interesting. Having to fight off people with John Coltrane playing in the back."

" But anywho. Twelve, If we were role playing. What would you dress me up as? " You bite your lip waiting on his response. You were extremely curious to hear his answer.

You had to adjust yourself a little bit as you felt the gates to your 'oasis' starting to open up even more than earlier from the way he was looking at you.

" Honestly? " Austin's eyebrow raised.

" Of course. Wouldn't want it any other way." You responded.

" Well, even though it may sound cliché. In my younger years," He laughed, " The whole French maid thing intrigued me for a bit."

Your mouth twitched in a smile, " Know what. I'm not surprised. That checks out."

" What?! What's that suppose to mean? "

You laughed at his playfully offended expression while he clutched his chest, " It means that you seem like a french maid kind of man, babe. Classy. You already have this old school charm to you. So it's on-brand that you'd be into that." You elaborated.

He looked at you a second before saying a simple, " Thats fair. "

Tilting his head at you he continued, " So, if a little french maid outfit just happened to appear in your size around here somewhere. And I called to say my office may need some dusting...would you be willing to oblige." He suggested leaning over and biting at his lip.

You leaned in and said, " Oui."

He groaned and blushed a bit in response moving to grab another card only to laugh when he read it, "Right on topic. Thirteen. How many children do you want someday? "

" Um...uh..well it really depends. When I was younger I always wanted to be like cheaper by the dozen or the mine, yours, and ours family. " You giggled thinking about how you wanted a brood of children to homeschool, make three meals a day for, and be driven absolutely crazy by. But as you got older and life took it's fuzzy fun filter off and you began seeing the true colors of the world, that life started to seem less and less ideal.

You caught Austin's face which was mixed with curiosity and glee. Even though you guys had had some conversations here and there that involved kids he'd never heard this from you before. He was intrigued, "Seriously you wanted twelve kids. You with twelve kids?" He repeated for emphasis.

You laughed, " Yeah. Believe it or not. I like kids and I love my nieces and nephews even though I don't get to see them as much as I'd like. So, in a perfect fantasy world. But being realistic though. I think I would like two or four. I wanna have enough but not too many to where I won't have the energy or the time to give them all as much equal time and attention." You explained.

" I get that. And I like that it's even numbers. So no one will ever be left out of games and they'll be able to pair up when we go out to fairs or do activities." He added with a gleam in his eye.

Austin couldn't lie and say that hadn't thought of what life would be like settling down with you and hearing little footsteps roam the halls. Some could say it was too soon to be thinking about things like that, but he couldn't help. You made him want a future with you.

And vice versa.

" Exactly. Don't want anyone getting lonely." You agreed trying to play off the blush that had captured your face. You pulled a card, " Fourteen. What's your favorite thing about me?" You asked.

" There's so many different things, honey." Austin sighed trying to rack his brain to be able to just pick one thing, and then he said it, " Your unflinching ability to be kind to everyone."

Your twisted up your face, " Really, you think so? "

It wasn't like you were saying that you thought you were mean. I mean sure you did your best to try and be nice and kind to everyone you came across, but you weren't the type to just stick that label to yourself.

" YES REALLY. " Austin emphasized, " You'd literally give anyone the clothes off your back and shoes off your feet. You never cease to amaze me with the grace you have with people even when they don't deserve it. Especially in that situation with the Paps the other week. I know it took a lot not to respond to the name calling and picking but you just kept going and even told the man to have ' a blessed day'." Austin recalled the icky interaction you'd had with paparazzi while out with some friends.

Shaking your head you waved him off, " I just do what I was raised to do. It's a natural thing. Can't sweat that." You said.

And that's exactly what I want you to teach our children. Austin thought.

" Yeah, babe. I know. But it still adds to your amazingness. " He concluded picking a card, " Alright. Fifteen. Where is somewhere you've always wanted to go, but never been? "

Your answer was almost instant, " Italy."

Austin blinked fast smiling, " That was fast."

You shyly grinned, " Yeah I know. I didn't mean to say it that fast but that's my number one. I've just always been fascinated by the food and culture. And I really feel like I wanna go and immerse myself in it. Ya' know experience it for myself." You told him of your dream.

It was true too. You could see yourself having authentic pasta and taking walks along the rivers. Finally trying pure gelato. Visiting different museums and taking rides on the gondola. It might sound like cliché tourist behavior but you wanted it all.

Austin was taking note of how you lit up while talking about the idea of visiting and decided to slip that note into his pocket for later.

Once you'd finished your mini ranting you picked a card, " Sixteen. Name something that you're weirdly good at? "

Austin noodled on the question. Then you watched him grab one of the unused napkins as he started to twist and pinch it in his hands.

Curious you asked, " What're you doing, my sweet baboo? "

Feeling fuzzy at the name he responded, " You'll see. Just wait a second, honey."

So waited and watched him. You found it cute how concentrated he looked.

And before you knew it. He was handing you a beautifully crafted rose napkin.

" Awe Austin." You gushed. " It's so cute. How'd you learn to do that? "

" Ah'. It's just something I randomly picked up once. But I think I've gotten pretty good at it over the years." He said.

" I hope you know I'm going to force you to do this with all our napkins now, right." You teased.

" That's fine. Anything for you, mama." He moved closer to you now wrapping a arm around you.

You didn't know why but him saying that, had made something jump in you. Something hot.

And the closer he got, the more you looked at his face. And the more you looked at his face, the more you wanted to sit on it.

Not being able to help yourself you managed to move in and capture your his lips with yours. They were always so soft.

After a minute almost reluctantly he pulled back catching apart of his breath, " Woah, Mama. Wait a minute. As much as I'd love to keep going. Don't you still wanna finish the game first? " He asked cupping your face with a hand.

"Nope." You popped the P, " Not really." You spoke before pulling him back in. He groaned in your mouth at the added friction you brought by started to grind slowly into his lap.

Still once more he found the strength to move away, " You sure?"

You nodded, but just then a funny little tease came to mind, " Know what. Actually, I do have one last question honey." You said running your against his cheek.

" Go for it, darling."

" Final question. What's your favorite sex position." You questioned positioning yourself up some more. You could see the fire dancing in his eyes and from the way he licked his lips you were sure there were fiery thoughts that accompanied them.

He sighed biting his bottom lip, " Well. If you must know. As old fashion as it may sound. I'd have to say missionary." Taking a squeeze of your ass.

" Why? " You coyly asked.

" Because I like to be able to look you directly in the eye when I make you come over and over again. The faces you make, always looks like art. Care to be my muse? " He asked taking his hand away from your face to move it along down to your throat.

And with that all you could do was nod before you found yourself on your back, on the couch looking a pretty man in the eye while he gave you pretty amazing orgasms.

#austin butler x black! reader #austin butler #dayofourloves #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #mangoasks #mango answers #austin butler x black reader

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orangeinecstasy · 1 year ago

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cup of music ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟryan mcmahon

✧: part two

paring: ryan x fem!oc

summery: ryan comes into the record store that erin works at. there's a spark between the two of them, but who will have the confidence to make the first move?

a/n: hey everyone! so i originally uploaded these to wattpad, but i wanted to have a bit of a platform change. please let me know what you guys think. my requests are currently open so please feel free to send in an idea you have. enjoy!

wc: 1.6 k

*reblogs, likes, and feedback and greatly appreciated!!

It was another slow Saturday working at Cup of Music. A silly name, I know, but this place has kept me employed for the past two years so I could get over it. Working here was like a breath of fresh air, especially after classes all day. There aren't many record stores with a cafe, so being able to work there felt special.

Sadly, today was a typical rainy Dublin afternoon. As I walked into the shop, I got a few greetings from the people already working as I walked to the staff room to hang up my bag and umbrella. Even with the rainy weather, the feeling outside was warm, causing the store windows to fog around the edges because of the conflicting temperatures. I smoothed out the black fabric of my dress as I walked back into Cup of Music, going to the record shop where I worked.

I gently hummed, Love Me by the 1975 as I settled behind the counter, taking the book I hit underneath it and setting it out, the day seeming slow and the book giving me something to do. I looked around the shop, making sure that there wouldn't be anyone coming up to the counter within the next few minutes before opening the place where I had left off.

After thirty minutes of just standing there reading, I heard the soft bell that sounded when someone entered the shop, interrupting the soft, slightly jazzy music playing over the shop's speakers. That's when I saw him. His hair was damp, and the t-shirt clinging to his shoulders and chest was also presumably damp. Our eyes met briefly as the old wooden shop floors whined underneath his feet as he shifted from record-box to record-box. I didn't know what it was, but something about him made me unable to take my eyes off him.

After a few moments of staring at him, I realized what I was doing and quickly darted my eyes away from his direction. 'Fuck, Erin, he's going to think you're crazy.' I thought, trying to make myself look busy as I slipped a business card into my book and set it aside. 'You got this. You help cute boys check out all the time.' my brain rambles to itself, trying to keep calm as I fidget with the rings on my fingers.

Once about fifteen minutes had passed, he came up to the check-out, setting the records down records on the band sticker-covered counter. "Just these?" I pull my knotted hands away from each other, trying to see more claims than I actually am. "Yeah, thank you." his eyes met mine, lips curling up into the most genuine smile I've ever seen.

"Got ya," I nod, returning the smile as I scan all the records, placing them into a neat pile before slipping them into one of the store's boxes so they would stay upright and not bend. "That'll be fifty-five" he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a slightly tattered black wallet to which he hands me three twenties. I take it, grabbing his change and the receipt, before pushing the box of vinyls across the counter to allow him to pick it up more quickly. Handing him his change was almost like a spark shot through my body.

Quickly, I pull my hand away, an awkward laugh accompanying my smile. "Thanks for shopping with us. I hope you have a nice day." he chuckled gently at my reaction, slipping the change back into his wallet and picking up his box. "You too." He smiled, then turned and left.

'You definitely fucked that one up,' my lips pinched together, watching him walk out of the store, knowing there was an extremely slim chance that I would ever see him again.

Thankfully, the rest of the day went by quickly. There were a couple more customers, but it was not a super buy because it was a weekday. So after my shift, I simply went home, thinking about the guy from earlier in the day.

A few days had passed since my last shift, but one of my closer coworkers had an emergency and asked me to fill in. A part of me was sad to miss the day off, but oh well. I picked out my clothes for the day, deciding to put on dark-washed high-waisted jeans and a white loose-knit top that let the black bra I was wearing underneath be exposed. Finally, I slipped on my Docs, threw my stuff in a bag, and headed out the door.

I did my usual routine, saying hi to my coworkers and setting my stuff in the back. However, when I got back out, I saw Record Boy again, but this time he was with another person. Tall, dreads that hung loosely around his face. The pair sat at the table in the corner. When our eyes met, he was in the middle of telling the other something. I could feel myself blush slightly, his eyes widening as what he talked about seemed to slip his mind. The tall one turned around, looking at me, to which I quickly stopped looking at the pair and settled at my usual spot behind the counter. I heard the taller laugh while Record Boy told him to shut up. I pulled my attention away from them and focused on the task at hand.

A few minutes passed, and the taller one approached the counter. "Hey, I was wondering if I could ask you for an album recommendation?" his elbows were resting on the counter, causing him to lean over slightly. "Oh, yeah, for sure," I smile, moving away from the counter, "just follow me." he nods, following behind me as I find the right section.

"Okay, S… S… Sm, ah-ha!" after flipping through a few sections, I finally find The Smiths' Meat is Murder. "This is my favorite the Smiths album." I shrug, the two of us sharing a friendly laugh as I hand him the album. "If you're unsure, I can set you up a listening room. Your friend can join if he wants to." I look past the taller, seeing that Record Boy is already looking in our direction.

"Hmm, yeah, that'd be nice. Hey Ryan," he turns to look at Record Boy, whose name is now presumably Ryan, before pausing, "I don't think I caught your name." he looked back at me. "Oh! I'm Erin."

"Erin's going to set us up in a listening booth. Get your ass over here." he waved him over, Ryan clearly looking embarrassed. "Josh, I'm going to kill you," he said, trying to whisper somewhat but failing.

"You two can just follow me this way" My eyes flash from Josh's to Ryan's, where we hold eye contact for a beat longer before I take them to one of the listing booths in the back. Josh hands me the record back, which allows me to place it on the turntable. "All you guys have to do is set the needle on the record and put on the headphones. Feel free to take as long as you guys need."

"Thanks, Erin." Josh smiles cheekily, glancing over at Ryan and nudging his arm, to which he clears his throat. "Yeah, thanks."

'Well, that was weird….' I smile slightly before walking away and returning to my place at the counter.

I could hear the two loudly whispering to each other. Though I couldn't quite make out the words, I could definitely tell that they were arguing. Soon enough, Josh pushed Ryan forward, making him stumble slightly before he walked the few steps to the counter. "I'd like to get this, please." he set The Smith's record on the counter, eyes darting from the record to me. "Hell yeah, that's a great choice. I'm glad you ended up enjoying it!" my smile is bright as I pick up the record, scan it, and slip it into some protective cardboard before allowing him to pay and leave.

He picks up the packaged record, saying a small thank you before walking away. However, he only takes a few steps before turning and coming back to the counter. "Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you after the first time I saw you a couple days ago, and I was wondering if I could get your number and the two of us could go out sometime?" He rambled slightly, fingers pushing through his hair as he spoke.

Honestly, I was shocked, but a part of me was glad he had the same first impression. "Yeah, I'd actually like that a lot. Let me just find something to write on.." I glance around their counter, finding a silver Sharpie but no scraps of paper or anything. "You can just write on this." he set the packaged record back on the counter to allow me to write down my name and number. "Just text me any time." I pass the record back, and he takes it, looking down at my shiny information and smiling. "Will do, Erin!" his smile was even brighter than the first one he had given me, and as he walked out, I knew this would be the start of a beautiful relationship.

I saw Josh waiting outside for Ryan through the shop window. Because they were far, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but once Ryan flipped the packaged record around, I saw Josh's hand clap him on the back before the two walked off happily.

"Idiots." I laugh, my smile still not fading from before, as the realization of me and Record Boy Ryan are going out sinks in.

#inhaler dublin x reader #ryan mcmahon #inhaler oneshot #inhaler dublin #inhaler band #josh jenkinson #eli hewson #elijah hewson #robert keating #bobby skeetz

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daydreamingfuel · 2 years ago

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Freak Like Me

Chapter 4

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

AO3 // previous // next

Y/N has just moved to Hawkins from England with her parents and is starting at the high school in the final term of her senior year. Eddie immediately takes a liking to her and they become fast friends, deciding to take her under his wing and falling to her charms. This is Hawkins however and things are never quite as they seem...

WHOLE FIC TAGS & WARNINGS: gratuitous use of Y/N (I'm not sorry), friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, eventual smut, semi-fix-it-fic, angst, injury, canon dialogue and events used, canon graphic violence, no main character death :)

Chapter Tags & Warnings: A whole lot of angst (reader is scared and angry), new character appearances (Wayne, Steve, Robin and Max), Eddie getting jealous, most of this is the reader interacting with characters other than Eddie but it's vital to her growth as a character and she does not shut up about him so he's still very much present.

Chapter Word Count: 6k

A/N - Yeah, I know it took me two months to upload the next chapter again, I'm sorry, I had writers block. Also thank you to everyone that commented on and reblogged the previous chapters, it means so much to me, you're all sweethearts

Her heartbeat thumped in her ears, her mind screaming to move, but Y/N was paralysed. Eddie was gone. He’d left her. Out of fear or cowardice or something inexplicable, she didn’t know. The once loud sobs had turned to a silent tremble as tears continued to cascade down her cheeks in the time that had passed. She had no idea how much time had passed. Hours most likely, though the world seemed to move in slow motion as she tried desperately to pull herself together. She had to think of something.

How are you supposed to explain this to the police, huh?

What would everyone think? You’ll be exiled. Again.

What will Mum say?

“Mum…” A sharp intake of breath made her body crumble. She could go home, explain what she could to her mum and form a plan for when the police came knocking. But it was inexplicable, they wouldn’t be able to explain the death in any way that makes sense. Chrissy’s death didn’t make sense. The sound of boots outside the trailer door alerted her to the reality of the situation but Y/N couldn’t will her body to move. Keys at the lock told Y/N it was Eddie’s uncle Wayne coming back from his shift.

The man was no stranger, and he had grown accustomed to seeing her in his home. Y/N could remember the first time they met, as clear as day. Popcorn had been flung everywhere when a jumpscare had actually managed to make her jump during one of Y/N and Eddies movie nights. Wayne had walked in on Eddie laughing at Y/N for being scared of the “kind of cheesy” jumpscare and immediately called Eddie out for being a scaredy cat himself as a child, then making him clean up the popcorn. From then on he often doted on her subtly when Eddie wasn’t looking so as to not embarrass him further. What the man did not expect when he came home was a mutilated cheerleader in his living room, Y/N sobbing by the kitchen counter and Eddie nowhere to be seen.

“Care to explain?” Wayne asked in fear and desperation to make clarity of the grotesque sight before him.

Her voice was quiet and hoarse, the memories of Chrissy’s bones breaking flashing through her mind, making her shudder as she spoke, “I don’t know how to…but I didn’t do this. She was my best friend, Wayne.”

Something in the fear and horror in Y/N’s eyes softened Wayne’s already weakened resolve, but he still urged on, “Did you see what or who did? And where is my nephew?” What was she supposed to say to him? That his nephew had abandoned her with Chrissy’s body after they watched her be raised from the earth and murdered in mid-air? No, she couldn’t do that to him.

“No.” Y/N locked her wide, wet eyes with his worried ones, “I didn’t see a thing.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Y/N had no clue who or what had done this to her friend. But it wasn’t the whole truth either. “And Eddie…”

“His van is gone, I thought he’d be with you, celebratin’ an’ all, but he ran didn’t he?” Wayne spoke, the weight of it settling on him. “Running scared, and left you here.”

“I begged him to stay. That running makes him look guilty when he isn’t, he would never, but he-” The words cut themselves off with a choked sob bubbling up from her chest. After a few deep breaths to calm herself down she asked quietly, “What do we do?”

Wayne stood up and pulled Y/N up with him, he ran a hand over his head and down his face before answering, thinking over everything, before ultimately saying, “I’ll handle the cops, you go find my boy.”

“Wayne, I-”

“Just go find him, bring him home. I’ll call this in, say the house was empty when I got here.” Wayne insisted and urged her to go. She didn’t have it in her to argue, so Y/N quickly rounded up her things and fled the house, sparing one last glance at Chrissy and mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Wayne as he dialled ‘911’, before running home before anyone noticed she was even there.

Her whole body was aching and sweaty when she finally collapsed through her front door, finding her mother asleep at the dinner table. Y/N's heart squeezed in her chest at the sight as she rounded the table and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up a little, splashing cold water over her sticky flesh and taming her hair as much as she could before heading back to her sleeping mother and gently waking her. As soon as she opened her eyes, Y/N all but flung herself into her mother’s arms. Though she had only just awoke, Mrs Y/L/N held her daughter close, stroking her back to soothe her though she had no clue what was wrong. Y/N’s mind raced once more, shaking though protected in her mother’s warmth and care, as the tears began to fall again, soaking into her mother’s old cardigan. Feeling like a child again, she was rocked gently until she found her voice.

“Mum, something terrible happened,” Y/N whispered into her mother’s shoulder. She couldn’t lie to her. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t hide this from her. So, Y/N recanted the whole story - no inexplicable, horrifying detail spared - to her mother, who sat and listened patiently until the story was over. It all came out in one long ramble, jumping from one thought to another until she ended by saying, “I need to find him, he’s in huge trouble.”

“Breathe, Y/N.” Mrs Y/L/N spoke calmly, “Count with me, 1…2…”

“1…2…3…4…”

By ‘10’, Y/N’s thoughts were clearer and she pulled herself up to make eye contact with her mother, who had been silently crying herself. “I hope you are aware of how insane this is, dear.” Y/N could only nod and her mother took a breath before saying, “But I believe you.”

“You do?”

“You are many things, dear – reckless, stubborn, strong-willed, but you are not a killer, and you’ve never lied to me. Why would you now? If you say you nor Eddie did it, I believe you.”

“Mum, I’m scared.” Y/N finally let herself say, “There’ll be a manhunt for him soon and Chrissy won’t get the justice she deserves, because he didn’t do it, and there’s no proof…there’s no proof that it was him but there’s none that it wasn’t either. He ran, he looks guilty.”

“Do what you promised, find him and we can clear his name. If there really is no proof and all they have is circumstantial it won’t hold up in court, but he needs to be back here to plead his case.” Mrs Y/L/N was calm in her own fear, moreover protective of her baby. “But eat first. Go have a shower and I’ll make you something, you’ll need your strength.” She stood and started pulling things from cupboards and the fridge as Y/N stood to wander back to the bathroom. “Honey?”

“Yeah, mum?” Y/N turned back to face the kitchen.

“Let’s not tell your father, just yet.”

“Agreed.”

The hot water running over her sore muscles made her groan in relief as she rubbed soap into her skin. She was tired and hungry and scared, but her mind was wide awake. Where would he go? There weren’t many options, but she still wasn’t too familiar with Hawkins and the surrounding woods. The sun now bursting through the curtains alerted her to how much time had actually passed. Checking the clock on the wall, made her shudder, past noon. He could be anywhere by now; this was going to be difficult. Hot food wafted its comforting smell through the house and pulled Y/N quickly back to the kitchen with a grumbling stomach, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since before Hellfire the previous day. Y/N and her mum ate in relative silence, sat side by side with their chairs almost touching, letting the gravity of the situation begin to settle around them. With every bite, Y/N tried to piece it all together to no avail, so instead turned her mind to really thinking about where he could have run off to. Running through every conversation she had ever had with him, picking out as many different locations as she could remember. Just as she was forming a list in her head of places to check, the phone rang, cutting through the silence.

With a hard swallow, Y/N stood and answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Y/N!” Dustin’s voice echoed through the phone speaker, “Thank god, do you-”

Bewildered, Y/N asked, cutting him off, “Dustin? How did you get this number?”

“I, um..” he stumbled to fund the words but quickly got himself back on track, “That’s not important right now. Do you know where Eddie is? You were the last person to be seen with him.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold, her grip on the phone growing tighter.

“Y/N? Are you still there?”

“Y-yeah, Dustin, I’m still here. I just-,” Y/N’s breathing began to get more laboured with each word, “Eddie, he’s- I don’t-,”

“Y/N?” A new voice, a young girl. “I’m Max, Dustin’s friend.” Y/N realised this must be Lucas’ ex, the ‘badass’. “I live opposite Eddie in the trailer park.”

Shit.

Max continued, “I saw Eddie leave, he looked scared, terrified. But I saw you and Chrissy go in together, with him.”

“Fuck. I…Max, can you put Dustin back on?” Y/N heard the phone being passed on, “Dustin? He’s innocent, I swear to God he’s innocent.”

“I know.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, she took a chance on him before her brain could even process the words falling out of her mouth, “Where are you right now? I think we need to talk in person.”

She ran to her room to get dressed and dry her hair as much as she could before backing up a backpack of things she might need in the search for Eddie. In just over an hour from hanging up the phone with Dustin she was pulling him into a hug outside Family Video. The freshman was perplexed as to why she was holding him so tightly but didn’t let go until she started to pull away. He lead her inside, where she could finally put some faces to the names of people that she’d heard about over the past two months.

Max Mayfield was taller than Dustin, with fiery red hair pulled into a braid, a strikingly pretty contrast to her fair skin, with headphones around her neck. Robin Buckley, a girl in her year that she had somehow managed to not have any classes with, stood leaning against the counter of the store, her bobbed hair framing her face perfectly, though slightly dishevelled from running her hands through it. And Steve “The Hair” Harrington, whom she had heard so much about from Dustin, taller than them all, strutted over to greet Y/N and Dustin at the door. Y/N was immediately taken aback by how casually handsome he was.

“So this is Y/N?” He asked Dustin who nodded with a smile looking between Steve and Y/N, “I’m Steve, this is Robin and Max. We’ve heard a lot about you, nice to finally meet you,” he smiled, charm dripping off the words with ease, though Y/N got the immediate impression that it didn’t work as much as it used to, the uniform vest taking his confidence down a peg. But Y/N was charmed anyway, he seemed cool in a classic way.

"I wish it was under different circumstances,” Y/N gave him a smile back, which quickly turned into a frown as her rows furrowed. They all silently agreed. Dustin guided Y/N to the central counter where the group huddled. “Look what happened…it’s nonsensical.”

They all exchanged uneasy but familiar looks as Y/N filled them in on what had occurred at the trailer as simply as possible, not wanting to break down again. Their expressions weren’t of disbelief, but of recognition. They actually believed her. When it was over, Y/N could all but see the cogs turning in their heads, putting missing pieces she didn’t know of together.

“Do you have any idea where he could have gone?” Robin asked, her voice vaguely hoarse but soft.

Y/N licked her lips and took a breath, “I have a list, but there’s one that sticks out the most. Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.”

“Sounds promising. It’s the best lead we’ve got, after you.” Dustin said. Of course, Y/N would be the first lead people would follow with how closely linked they are. Y/N raised her eyebrows quickly in acknowledgement and Dustin continued, “Where does Reefer Rick live?”

“See, that's the thing. No one knows.” Max answered, “He's more of a… a legend than someone that people actually know.”

“He never let me go with him to do pick-ups, so I have no idea,” Y/N added.

“Last name?” Robin then asked as Steve wandered away in frustration.

“I don’t know that either. I’m sorry.” Y/N wished she could be of more help, all she wanted to do was find him, and it seemed like they wanted the same. For one reason or another.

Robin shook her head as if to say ‘Don’t be’, but then her eyes lit up with an idea as she messed with one of the tapes. Suddenly, she was sitting at the computer typing away.

“What are you doing?” Max questioned her friend’s odd behaviour, moving to stand next to her as the rest of the group followed suit, surrounding Robin and the computer.

“Maybe we don't need a last name.” As Robin pressed ‘Enter’ on the keyboard, the screen filled with a list, “Twelve Ricks already have accounts here.”

“Lot of Ricks,” Y/N said, more to herself but it got a snicker from Max and Steve, as she rested her hands on the back of Robin's chair, leaning over her shoulder a little to read the list of names.

Robin looked up at Y/N over her shoulder and blushed slightly at the proximity but quickly turned back to the screen, “So, let's narrow it down.” She clicked on the first name and his details filled the screen. “Rick Alderman's latest rentals are Annie and Dumbo. Chances our drug dealer has a family?”

“Not likely.” Max immediately said and Y/N nodded in agreement. Back, down, enter.

“All right. Rick Conroy.” Robin announced the next Rick, “Sixteen Candles, Teen Wolf, Romancing the Stone.”

Max, Steve, Dustin and Y/N all spoke in unison, “No”

“Okay.” Back, down, enter. “Rick Joiner. Mask, Footloose, and Grease”

Another resounding “Nah,” from the group. Back, down, enter. “Rick Kimbrough. The Blue Lagoon and Splash.”

They laughed lightly at the film selection, but it still didn’t seem likely, as told by Max who said “Definitely not”, immediately followed by Steve’s “No way.”

“Okay.” Back, down, enter. “Rick Lipton. Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Cheech & Chong's Next Movie.” They all looked at each other smiling, as Robin read out the list, “Cheech & Chong's Nice Dreams. Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke.”

Y/N chuckled “Bingo.” Found you.

Max asked, “Lipton?”

“Spelled like the tea.” Robin confirmed, “2121 Holland Road.”

“That's out by Lovers Lake,” Dustin said immediately.

Max nodded slowly before adding, “Middle of nowhere.”

“It's a perfect place to hide.” Robin finished all their thoughts for them and backed out of the screen as they all scrambled to move. Steve did a sweep of the shop to make sure there were no customers left inside before grabbing his bomber jacket from the back office along with his car keys. They rushed outside, Robin bringing up the rear, slamming shut and locking the door to the store, flipping over the ‘Closed’ sign before piling into the front passenger seat of Steve’s BMW. Y/N, silently questioning how Steve could afford such a nice car whilst working minimum wage, clambered into the back seat between Max and Dustin, only just pulling her seat belt on as Steve floored it out of the parking lot.

Max leaned her head against the window, headphones connected to her Walkman, eyes closed listening to the music. On her other side, Dustin was going through his backpack recounting the contents methodically, before pulling out a notebook and a pen and writing down as much as he could remember from Y/N’s story along with some other details that Y/N didn’t recognise. But she did catch the phrases ‘Demogorgon’ and ‘The Upside Down’. Steve and Robin, in the front seats, playfully bickered, talking about the different film choices the Ricks made and debating who had the best taste, intercut with stories of Steve’s failed attempts to impress the girls who came into the store. Y/N’s knee bounced as she played with her hands absentmindedly in her lap. If Eddie were there, Y/N knew he would rest a big, warm, ringed hand on her thigh to ease her anxiety before threading his fingers through hers and squeezing gently. Heart clenching at the thought, her head dropped back with a deep sigh as they drove further out of central Hawkins.

Steve, having seen Y/N’s anxiety in the rear-view mirror asked, trying to be as casual as he could, “So, you and Munson?”

“Huh?” Y/N lifted her head up off the back of the seat to look at him quizzically, having zoned out and only just registering that she was being talked to. “Oh, yeah…Eddie, he’s, well…”

Dustin scoffed and muttered under his breath, still writing, “They’ve got something going on.”

“Dustin!” Robin exclaimed, getting the freshman to look up in offence to his scolding, “You don’t have to talk about it Y/N.”

“Nah, it’s okay. He’s not completely wrong.” Dustin gave Robin a smug smile and then looked at Y/N expectantly. “Look, there’s nothing official about it but we’re close, that’s it.”

Steve and Robin nodded in understanding and dropped the conversation, turning up the radio a little and going back to bickering like siblings. But Dustin rolled his eyes, before talking in a hushed tone, “You know, you’re not very subtle.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked, matching his volume, and watching as he put away his notepad and pen.

“It’s obvious that you like him,” Dustin stated, matter-of-factly, as though it was as known that the sky is blue.

Y/N blanched silently, mouth agape in shock at his audacity. Thinking back to their heated moment in Hellfire before this all kicked off, she blushed before it was taken over by a surge of anger. “Well, he obviously doesn’t feel the same, he still left me there. Alone, with my best friend’s corpse. After watching her be brutally mutilated.”

Dustin gulped. He looked away, staring at his lap. Y/N looked away from the boy to find the rest of the car’s eyes on her, making her groan and sink into her seat more, hugging herself. Steve and Robin made eye contact, silently communicating before Steve fixed his eyes back on the road and sped up. The rest of the long drive was quiet, only Steve and Robin still talking. In a few hours, the high streets and shops turned to cul-de-sacs, which in turn became back roads into the forest. By the time they were nearing the lake, it was getting dark and Y/N was starting to feel hungry again so pulled out a bag of Doritos from her backpack. She took a few before offering the bag to Dustin with a small smile. She hadn’t meant to snap at him earlier, she was just tired and confused. He grinned at her and took a handful gratefully. Forgiven.

Leaning forward, Y/N placed the bag between Robin and Steve on the centre console, Robin immediately dived in with a bright “Thanks Y/N”, followed by Steve who squeezed Y/N’s hand gently in thanks, eyes fixed on the now dark road ahead. Finally, she offered the bag to Max who had barely spoken or moved since getting into the car, laying a hand tentatively on her shoulder and gently shaking the bag in front of her. But Max just shook her head and moved the bag away, readjusting in her seat. Y/N tried not to take it personally, maybe she just wasn’t hungry. As they came up to a small house by the lake, Y/N stuffed the half-empty bag back in her rucksack, pulled out a torch in its place, and unclicked her seatbelt.

The group clambered out of the car, Dustin handing them all a torch and smiling when he saw that Y/N had come prepared. He wandered up to the front door and rang the doorbell. No response. He tried again. Still no response. So, he tried again. And again, and again and again and again until-

“Okay. Well, that's settled. I guess he's not here.” Steve cut Dustin’s assault on the doorbell off. Y/N snickered at Steve’s sass but took matters into her own hands.

“Eddie?” Y/N knocked on the door as she called out for him.

Immediately echoed by Dustin. “Eddie! It's Dustin!”

“Great,” Steve said flatly as Robin shone her torch through the window, peering through.

Dustin continued to call out for Eddie as Y/N knocked, “Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help.” Dustin was growing more agitated with every passing second, “Eddie!”

Robin shushed him as he tried the doorbell again, Y/N dropped her head to thump against the door in frustration. But Dustin wouldn’t stop, “Rick!” Dustin bangs on the door, “Reefer Rick!”

“Don't scream that.” Steve chastised, shaking his head his young friend as he continued to bang on the door, talking back and forth as they shone their flashlights into the house.

“Rick!”

“He’s not there!”

“Reefer Rick!”

“Just-”

“He could just be really high.”

A small pause in their bickering was interrupted by Steve, “Is that a foot?”

To which Dustin replied, “No, that’s a shoe.”

“Oh, my god.” Y/N finally exclaimed, having heard enough, and walked away from the pair and started wandering over to Max, who was circling the house.

Max tilted her head as the light of her torch caught something, then stopped still as the light revealed a hidden structure in the darkness, “Hey, guys?”

The group shone their torches where Max was facing, to find an old-looking, metal bunker of sorts. It was worth a shot. Y/N immediately set off for the door, quickly followed by Steve, and Robin close behind. The lock was undone, making Y/N’s heart skip a beat, as she pulled it free from the fastening of the door and dropped it into the grass. Steve reached over and slowly pulled the door open with a creak, making them wince.

“Hello?” Y/N called out into the darkness, scanning the room where the light of her torch traced. The bunker was filled to the brim with old fishing equipment, barrels, boats covered with tarp, and absolutely covered in a thin layer of brine and dust.

“Is anyone home?” Robin asked into the space but there was no response.

Steve wrinkled his face in disgust, “What a dump.” Walking along the back wall of the room, Steve’s eyes caught something. He suddenly turned off his torch and picked up an oar in both hands before lunging at the tarp-covered boats and prodding them with the tip of the oar.

“What are you doing?” Dustin stopped searching and turned to Steve in bewilderment, he asked again. “What are you doing?”

“He might be in here,” Steve answered, as though it was obvious, continuing to poke the tarp and whatever was underneath it.

“So, take the tarp off.”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the boys bickering again and wandered over to a table where Max was looking.

“Hey, look over here,” Max called out and was flanked by Y/N and Robin, their eyes scanned the surface, strewn with crumpled-up papers and empty wrappers. Unlike everything else in the room, there was no dust covering them. “Someone was here.”

“Maybe he heard us.” Robin considered as they looked through the mess on the table. Y/N instantly recognised the candy bar that Eddie kept in his glove compartment ‘in case of emergencies. “Got spooked and ran.”

“Again,” Y/N added bitterly.

“Don't worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Cheerful sarcasm dripped from Dustin’s words.

Steve straightened himself up for a second to glare at Dustin before giving a sharp jab to the tarp, “I know you think you're being funny, Henderson, but considering almost everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times,” Y/N wasn’t sure whether she had heard that quite right but she didn’t have the time to process, “personally, I don't find it funny in the slight-”

Suddenly, in a violent blur, Steve was being held up against the wall of the shed, a broken glass bottle to his throat, the group shouting for it to stop, by a deranged-looking Eddie. His eyes locked onto Steve’s panicking face, practically foaming at the mouth.

“Eddie!” Y/N cried out for him, “Eddie! Stop!”

A sharp turn of his head forced him to lock eyes with Y/N, she saw something akin to regret flash in his dark eyes before he turned back to Steve.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eddie! Eddie! Stop!” Dustin shouted louder, “It's me. It's Dustin. This is Steve. He's not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?” The man in question nodded as much as he could and voiced his agreement that he was harmless, before Dustin continued, “Steve, why don't you drop the oar?”

Steve reached out his arm and dropped the ore to the ground with a thump, and Eddie pinned him even closer to the wall, Steve’s neck stretched back and exposed to the sharp edge of the glass. Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, terrified for a man she had only met mere hours ago.

Dustin tried to ease the situation again, echoed by Steve, and Eddie finally spoke, voice shaking, “What are you doing here?”

“We're looking for you.” Y/N was exasperated, and the sound of her voice made Eddie close his eyes to take a shaky breath. She added, more gently, “We're here to help.”

“Eddie, these are my friends.” Dustin broached the subject as calmly as possible, “You know Robin, from band.” She imitates a brass instrument of sorts, in a kind of cute but awkward way, “This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D.” Max nods and shrugs in acknowledgement, giving Eddie a small wave.

“Eddie. We're on your side.” Y/N interjects, getting angrier, “I swear on my mother.”

She could swear that his breath hitched. They all chimed in agreeing with the bizarre statement. But it worked, as Eddie lowered the bottle and let Steve go.

“Jesus Ch…” Steve rubbed at his neck with a huff of relief as Eddie walked away and slumped against the wall, slowly sliding down it until he was sat on a bench by a partly covered window, the bottle still gripped tightly in his hand. The moonlight shining through glinted off the glass and highlighted the tear tracks on Eddies flushed cheeks, mirroring Y/N’s as fresh tears began to fall at the sight of him trembling in front of her.

Dustin, not wanting to scare him, slowly crouched down in front of Eddie, “Eddie, we just want to talk.”

Y/N came to kneel down next to Dustin, looking up at Eddie and biting back her anger, pleading with him to listen. He looked away again, and Y/N’ whispered in disbelief, “What? You can’t look at me now?”

A delicate hand was placed on Y/N’s shoulder, Robin said, “We just want to know what happened.”

“You won’t believe me.” Eddie's voice was hoarse and weak, staring off into space and gently rocking himself back and forth.

“Try us,” Max stated firmly and Eddie looked up at her with wide eyes.

Y/N licked her lips and reached out to take the bottle from him, he allowed it but still couldn’t face her, “Eddie, they believed me.”

Finally, his eyes found hers again and he didn’t break it. As he looked at her, the fear and anger in her eyes transported him back to the moment he’d left, wishing he had stayed. Instinctively, his shaking hands reached out for hers, but she pulled away with a deep sigh and walked away, standing by Steve and checking if he was okay. Steve ran a hand through his hair and nodded that he was fine, but she stayed by his side. Eddie’s blood boiled at the sight but knew he had no ground to stand on. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and started to talk. He skipped everything that had happened between them after Hellfire, they didn’t need to know, and Y/N was glad that there were still some things left unsaid between them – that their private moments weren’t told for the group to indulge in.

“Her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh…” The once eloquently spoken boy was grasping for words like they were foreign to him, unable to properly explain what he had seen, “And she just, like, hung there. And her bones…Uh, she…” A small whimper escaped him as the memory came back to him “Her bones started to snap.” The sound of it echoed in Y/N’s mind and she had to turn away, Steve noticed immediately and reached out for her, resting a comforting hand on her arm as she silently cried, “Her eyes, man. It… It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling. I… I didn't know what to do, so I…ran away.” Y/N tensed. “I left her there.”

Y/N was by his side in a flash, the sound of her slap ringing through the air, a red handprint on his cheek, “You left me there!” Y/N shouted, tears streaming freely again, hands pulling her back and away from him. She shook them off. “I begged you to stay, and you left me anyway! I was the one that was found at the crime scene by your uncle, he let me get away before calling the police but we’re probably still prime suspects one and two.” She stalked towards him as she spoke, the bottle still in hand, fury oozing off her with every word. Eddie’s eyes were scanning her, wide, terrified and guilty, “I was terrified Eddie, we watched my best friend get murdered and you abandon me to deal with it, making yourself look guilty - and now you have the fucking nerve to expect sympathy? Fuck you.”

She dropped the bottle, and it shattered on the floor, before walking away from them all towards the door to get some fresh air and calm down. Once she was outside the rage subsided somewhat, but it was still festering. She would forgive him, eventually. Hearing steps behind her, Y/N turned and found herself against Steve’s chest. “Woah, sorry.” Steve took a step back, holding his hands up in a show of deference, “So…that was, intense.”

“Yeah, guess I’m angrier than I thought I was.” Y/N leaned against a nearby tree, a low-hanging branch making it easy to pick off leaves and rip them apart, dropping the confetti foliage to the ground and repeating the process.

Steve slowly approached her, not wanting to crowd her space, “I understand it though. I’d be pissed too if it was me.”

“You don’t think that was an overreaction?” Y/N said, laughing bitterly at herself, regret already starting to sink in.

“Even if you’re not together, it’s just a bad thing to do to a friend.” Steve reasoned and she sighed, closing her eyes. “Y/N, he hasn’t even apologised for leaving you there.”

She looked past him towards the fishing shed, “I haven’t given him a chance to.”

“We’ve got time.” She decided she liked this Steve, “But, right now there’s more important things to say. Stuff you need to know.” Steve’s soft expression hardened, and his jaw twitched. He held out his hand to lead her back inside, and after taking another deep breath she took it. He didn’t drop her hand as they entered the room, only letting her go when she went to sit by Eddie on the bench.

“I’m sorry for slapping you,” Y/N stated tensely, “But I am still mad at you.”

“Understood.” Eddie nodded, before running his hands over his face and sniffing back more tears. He looked at the group in front of him as they processed what they had heard, nobody mentioning Y/N’s outburst, “You all think I'm crazy, right?”

“No. We don't think you're crazy.” Dustin tried to reassure him but Eddie was having none of it.

“Don't bullshit me, man!” Eddie shouted but calmed quickly, his voice coming out in almost a whimper, “I know how this sounds.”

Y/N swallowed her rage, her care for him overpowering it momentarily, and rested a hand on Eddie’s. He clung on for dear life, and she hated the way she could feel herself forgiving him already. She didn’t want to forgive him just yet. Still, she laced her fingers with his and rubbed soothing circles into his skin with her thumb.

“We're not bullshitting you.” This time Max tried a hand at reassurance, her voice soft but firm, mature for her age and Y/N wondered what had happened to them to make this feel almost normal.

“We believe you.” Robin urged looking between Eddie and Y/N, “Both of you.”

Dustin sighed softly, as though preparing himself, “Look, what I'm about to tell you both might be a little… difficult to take.”

“Okay?” Eddie said, slightly confused as Y/N looked over to Steve who nodded, obviously knowing what Dustin was about to tell them, and affirming that however insane it would sound, it was the truth.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… cursed?” Dustin asked and Eddie nodded but Y/N shook her head, she hadn’t been around long enough to know the folklore of the town, but she had a feeling she was about to find out. “They're not way off. There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

“Like ghosts and shit?”

It was Max who replied, “There are some things worse than ghosts.”

“These monsters from this other world…we thought they were gone.” Dustin continued his explanation, and a strange chill ran down Y/N’s spine, “But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you. To be sure.”

“If they're back again, we need to know,” Max added in earnest.

There was a brief silence, and then Robin asked gently, “That night, did you see anything?”

“Dark particles, maybe?” Max prompted, followed by Dustin.

“It would almost look like dust, swirling dust,” Dustin said it like it was something as familiar as grass, but Y/N had no clue.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh…or touch.” Eddie answered, gently squeezing Y/N’s hand to stop the stammering, “You know, we tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move.”

Y/N nodded, the memories strong behind her eyes, interjected with memories of them happy in a gruesome reminder of how fast it all happened, “It was like she…she was in a trance or something.”

“Or under a spell,” Dustin suggested, realisations setting in in his mind, worry running deep.

“A curse.” Eddie corrected, his voice stronger now, looking Dustin dead in the eye.

Dustin stared up at Eddie, “Vecna's curse.”

A heavy weight hung in the air. “Who's Vecna?” Steve cut in, genuinely confused.

“It’s a D&D thing,” Y/N answered him with a small smile that was quickly overtaken by fear. “An undead creature of great power.”

“A spell caster.” Eddie added and Dustin confirmed, “A dark wizard.”

If all this was true and monsters and an alternate Hawkins did exist, Chrissy had been cursed and killed by an evil sorcerer from another dimension. How in hell were they going to survive this?

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