#tripp x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrsmandalorian · 7 months ago

Text

burning love

-- angst one shot jackson!joel miller x f! reader

summary: a secret affair goes a little too far.

main masterlist / word count: 7.8k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, outbreak!AU, CHEATING, spoilers to TLOU season 2, age-gap relationship, angst!, smut!!!, p in v, fingering, nipple play, sexual teasing, a lot of making out, use of words like pussy, cock, pet names ( baby, baby girl, angel), language, burning building, intense near-death situation.

a/n: howdy loves! this story comes from many places of inspiration from the new season 2 picture to the many fics and tiktoks of the voice memos from "calls" of pedro. i hope you guys all enjoy it! leave me a like, comment, or reblog to show your love. much love to you all - maddie!

The winter snow was finally drying up as the town of Jackson prepared for warmer months. Business in the sewing shop started to slow down a little more since people tended not to care as much for the holes in their clothes in warmer weather. You found more time to catch up on your romance novels and daydreaming. The time was also filled with making alterations to your soon-to-be wedding dress. You were finally set to have an official wedding with your husband, Tripp. You both had considered each other married a long time ago.

You and Tripp had been from a small town in Kansas. Your families were neighbors and fought together for the first fifteen years of the apocalyptic world. You both were only thirteen years old when the world went to shit. Your parents had always set you two up to marry one another. All you knew was Tripp; he was your first kiss, sex, boyfriend, and now husband. You each had to risk your lives for one another at a time or two. He was always there for you like a good man should be for his wife.

The two of you ended up in Jackson after five years of being on your own after your families had gotten infected or passed away from natural causes. Your families were doomsday preppers that had been right about the world. They had turned your neighborhood into a safe place. You and Tripp had stayed in Kansas for two years until the Raiders came. Luckily, Tripp had seen them early, and you could escape with many supplies.

Once escaping, the two of you survived another six months, savaging around for a safe place to lay your head. Sadly, some raiders had caught up with you. Tripp had saved your life from becoming their little toy, but he was severely injured. The infection from the wound had almost killed him. The memory of those days was the most terrifying time of your life. You would be left alone in this lonely, broken world. You were a strong woman. You could make it out there for a while, but you knew you would give up hope. You had almost entirely given up as a group of strangers came riding up on horses to the little house that you had dragged Tripp’s incapacitated body to. The riders went through the house with guns and masks covering half of their faces. You wept as you begged them not to kill you or your husband. He was not infected. You had screamed as they pushed a gun up to his head.

The woman in the group had pulled down her mask, making you less intimidated. She told you she believed you and would help you—only if you would help her. She had seen your supplies and knew you had to have more somewhere. You told her where your childhood neighborhood was and where they could find more supplies if there were any.

Maria had taken you and Tripp into their small town of Jackson and cared for you both. Luckily, Tripp was fully recovered, and both had been given a beautiful place to call home with all the usual life amenities and jobs to occupy your time.

Tripp had taken a job working in many roles and worked himself up to join the Jackson council. He was brilliant for his age and wanted to help others, especially those who saved their lives. He cared to see this place flourish and play a significant role in the community while you liked your small role and tasks and enjoyed the comfort of your cozy home.

After a year of living in Jackson, Tripp decided to make things official with you. He had gotten everything organized with the help of the ladies in town. They had found a beautiful wedding gown for you and wedding bands customized for the two of you.

You would have never dreamed of having an everyday life after the world went to shit—the dream of enjoying your novels with a warm fire and not worrying about your next meal. Your life was near perfect with your fantastic husband.

As you got comfortable in this new life, you realized that your love for Tripp was not what you read in your books. You both came together at night to the same bed, sometimes ending in an intimate moment. It felt like a chore. Everything started to feel like a chore with him, but he’s all you have ever known and cared for. He was so good and loyal to you that you thought wrong for not feeling the same. You were comfortable with him.

Three months after coming to Jackson, a patrol group returned from savaging and visiting your childhood neighbors. Maria’s husband, Tommy, was one of the groups Tripp had introduced you to that evening, along with a few others, including Tommy’s brother, Joel.

At your first impression of Joel, you were scared of the gossip Maria had told you once when you went to her house. His facial expression and personality did not help make you more comfortable with him. From what you could see and hear, he was a dangerous, angry man with a past.

You met his daughter, Ellie, in the sewing shop one day as she brought in some of her and his clothes that had holes. She spoke highly about her father figure and told you how hard he had it. Her words made you sympathetic to him, so you kept an eye on him.

Joel did notice your eye on him. He kept one on you as well. He had learned your routine along with your soon-to-be husbands so he could spy on you without worrying about being seen. He finally got the courage to face you after Ellie complained that her favorite jacket didn’t fit her as well anymore, and she didn't have time to go to the sewing shop.

Joel took the chore for himself because he would get to see you. The interaction was the most awkward conversation ever. You had noticed him enter the shop without saying anything. You sat at the window with your eyes glued to the words of your smutty book, but your focus was on the man holding clothes at the counter, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Hello, I brought some of Ellie’s clothes to be altered if that’s okay.” He shyly grumbled under his breath, which he couldn’t catch. He tried hard not to stare at you too long where you sat reading one of your books that you always had your nose into. He went to the library after you returned some books once and read a few chapters. He was jealous of Tripp of what he was reading, wondering if you were getting ideas for the bedroom from these stories. He thought about those ideas a lot as well but with you.

You had finally gotten your nose out of your book and helped him with his armload of clothes. You awkwardly gave him an estimate of the time you would need and tried not to stare into his big brown eyes too long. You both only exchanged a few words, and then he left. The tension in the room was something you had never felt before. You almost felt embarrassed by how Joel’s appearance made you feel as you stumbled on your words, and your hands slightly shook as you took the clothes and handed him a receipt.

Joel also felt embarrassed about not speaking to you as much as he wished. He turned into a shy, blushing guy when it came to you. You were the most natural, beautiful person he had met in a long time. He could feel the warmth that you only shared with a few. The two of you were more similar than you would think, but you were still good, and he was terrible.

Your heart stung a little when Ellie showed up a few days later to pick up her clothes. You had dressed up nicely that day, finally giving yourself the courage to speak to Joel Miller. You had even hidden the small ring Tripp had given you long ago in the pocket of your jeans as you heard the bell ring on the door.

After Ellie left, you cursed yourself and placed the ring back onto your left hand. How could you think of another man that way and hurt a man who loves you as much as Tripp did? Your guilt from the action had driven you into bed with Tripp that night as you tried to make your thoughts of Joel disappear and fall back into love with your soon-to-be husband. The plan had worked until you were on the way to your shop and saw Joel Miller waiting outside the door waiting on you.

You slowly went to the shop and breathed deeply to calm your nerves. “Good morning, Joel. Ellie picked up her clothes yesterday.” you quickly muttered to him as you unlocked the shop door. He stepped aside nervously and to get out of the way of the door. You go inside, but his foot catches the door before it closes behind you. You look to meet his eyes quickly.

“I know. I came to see if you could help me with a present,” he replied quickly as you held eye contact, which made you lightly blush as you looked away.

“Sure,” you muttered, moving out of the way to let him inside the shop. “Yeah, I can probably help. Who's the present for?” you asked as you turned away and felt his presence following to the back of the shop as you set down your bags. You felt a little touched and excited that Joel brought you something to help him with.

Joel runs his hands together nervously, too occupied watching to answer your question. He shook himself out of his daze as he met your beautiful eyes. “Oh, it’s for Tommy and Maria for the baby,” he answered and looked around the store at some of the projects you had up for trade.

“Well, I sewed some smaller blankets and toys the other week, which would be perfect for a little babe,” you quickly answered and rushed over to the dedicated section of the shop for children. “I crafted her a good number of outfits for my present, but I think this neutral blanket would be perfect.”

He follows you and glances at your incredible craftsmanship. He ran his thick fingers over the soft fabric of the blankets, accidentally touching your hand as you reached for the blanket you described to him. Your hands didn't jerk away but had a quiet moment of your eyes meeting. Your suppressed thoughts came rushing through your mind from the contact, along with Joel’s fantasy from your smutty books. You quickly pull your hand away as you grab the blanket for him and walk swiftly to the counter.

“I could gift wrap this blanket for you as well,” you offered as you set the blanket on the counter and glanced at the broad man. He seems lost in thought as he looks through the other clothing offered at the shop.

Joel thought of things to bring up as he glanced through the clothing. He stopped and saw a familiar shirt in the racks that looked like one of Sarah’s favorite shirts. He ran his large hand over his face to shield his emotions from anyone's view.

You stood at the counter and watched his expression fall before he covered his face. Your curiosity and worry made you instantly frown at the thought of a distraught Joel. He continued to browse the shop as you wrapped the gift, keeping a close eye on him. He eventually strolled back up to the counter, still looking deep in thought and full of emotion on his brows.

“I got everything wrapped for you,” you offer him a gentle smile and walk around the counter to hand him the decorated present. His hands gently take the present from your hands as they gaze at each other; the emotion on his face pains you. You inadvertently held onto his hand and met his eyes. “Joel,” you mutter quickly, “I just wanted you to know if you need anyone to talk to about anything. Before, after, or current events. I’m here for you.”

Joel’s eyes were full of desperation and raw emotion. His heart in his chest dropped into his stomach. He had to tell himself to catch his breath as he struggled to speak. “Thanks,” he nodded quickly as he met your eyes. His thoughts were racing through his mind as your hand remained on his.

You nervously bite your lip as you slowly remove your hand from his calloused one. Joel nodded his head to say farewell. Once, he reached the other side of the door and took a deep breath. He caught himself smiling on the way back home.

For you, the awkward ending to the conversation made you worried that you tried too hard and scared him away. The interaction was on your mind for the rest of the day and the rest of the week.

It took Joel four days to get the courage to show his face inside the shop again. He went inside after seeing Tripp go into the council meeting, which usually lasted an hour or two. He stepped into the shop with light footsteps, heading straight to the counter. You walked out of the back, not hearing the doorbell. You had your wedding dress in hand, stopping dead in your tracks as you saw Joel Miller waiting for you. “Oh, hello, Joel. I didn’t hear you come in,” you scramble around and lay down your dress on the other side of the counter. “What can I help you with today?”

He gives you a slight smile as he watches you scramble. “ Um, I just came in to accept your offer,” he nervously says, wiping his hands on his jeans. The rest of the interaction was the best conversation you have ever had. The conversation started with many nerves, but once he sat down with you to enjoy coffee. He had opened up to you as you did with him. The two of you ended the conversation with a plan to do this again soon.

It was sooner than you thought when he came strolling into the shop three days later with free pastries in hand. Meeting twice a week became the new norm for you two. You had never told Tripp about these secret meetings with Joel in the shop. It was all innocent…until it wasn’t.

The tone of your relationship with Joel changed one evening as he helped you move some racks in the store. You had accidentally hit your head on the pole of the rack. Both laughed well, but Joel got to your level to check out the goose egg. The interaction moved slowly, eyes meeting as you both smiled big at the accident. The proximity of your faces made you catch your breath, mainly because of the growing tension. Before you know it, his warm lips met yours. Neither of you pulled away, letting your hands meet his face's sides. The kiss was the most passionate kiss you had experienced.

After a few moments, you jerked your lips from his and stood up quickly as you hit your head again. You let out a groan of agony and rubbed your head, “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done that,” you muttered as he helped you up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he uttered as his concerned eyes met yours. “Is your head okay?”

“You didn’t upset me at all. It was very nice. I, um, I don’t know. My head’s fine.” you giggled nervously and rubbed your goose egg on your head. He quickly found a plastic bag and ice to assist you with your injury. The silence spoke volumes as you both danced around each other and the kiss.

“I thought it was nice too. I’m sorry that I did it. I won’t do it again,” he pleaded as he started to get all his stuff together to leave. You quickly moved your way to him and laid a hand over his.

“Joel,” you muttered, nervously biting your lip as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes met his, and your lips met again as well. This kiss was a little more chaotic as his large hands met your hips. The passionate scene began as he pulled you in him and leaned you against the small table as he took control of the kiss. Your breathing was in unison as you hungrily groped at one another.

After a few moments, you pulled away and touched his chest. “No one can know,” you yelled out as he eased off of you.

He nodded, keeping his large hand on your hips as he pulled you into one more peck. “You don’t know how long I have dreamed of your lips,” he mutters against your lips and gives you one more peck for good measure.

His comment makes you blush as you think the same thoughts as the two of you who have grown closer to one another. “I’m serious, Joel. Not even Ellie can know of this. And no feelings either. I’m getting married in less than a month. It has to end before that,” you sternly say as you gesture between them.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbles as he pulls off of you and collects his stuff after seeing that the sun is about to set, which means Tripp will return from patrol soon. “Our little secret,” he winks at you with a smirk.

You teasingly roll your eyes at the broad man as he heads towards the door. “See ya later, Joel.” You let out as he gives you a wave and a wink. You sit at the little table and shake your head as you start blushing at the memories. The guilt was starting to set in, but the excitement of the thrill coexisted.

The subsequent few interactions with Joel happened inside the shop when Tripp had gone out to patrol or into a meeting. Only a little happened besides the make-out session with slow hands. You would talk about how you were feeling or the memories in the conversation.

The first time you two had decided to take your secret relationship to the next level, you had to be planned out, not in the romantic sense, but in the privacy sense. Joel’s naughty, sweet nothings had made you want to wait until you could fully enjoy your pleasures with one another instead of a few quickies.

After breakfast in the dining hall, you sat with Tripp and his patrol group as they discussed plans for their two-day savaging trip, which they would take up to a region they hadn’t explored recently. Families had given them requests for specific supplies and to watch for anything wedding-themed.

Your quick eye contact with Joel as everyone prepped their horses for the trip sent a shiver down your spine. Your legs squeezed together in anticipation of lying with your secret lover.

Tripp had pulled you into a loving hug and quick peck as he pledged to see you soon, hopefully with a surprise. The caring remarks squeezed your gut with guilt as you returned the loving looks, even if they were semi-fake.

Joel had disappeared before the horses left the gate, heading home to avoid making your plan too apparent to others. After poking around town for an extra fifteen minutes, you made your way down the street of homes with your hands full of a fake decoy of clothes that you might be delivered to someone. Only a few people wandered the streets at this hour.

Relief radiated from you as you stepped onto Joel’s doorstep's old wood. As you slipped inside, you knew the door was unlocked. The house was a comfortable temperature to discard your coat. You heard loud footsteps upstairs as you made your way up them. “Joel, I’m here,” you quietly announced.

His broad frame slips from what you would guess was his room, and he is wearing only an undershirt and his jeans. Seeing his large muscles and chest peeking out of the short-sleeved shirt made you turn red like a tomato. He looked sexier this way (which you didn’t think could be possible). “Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says as his large hands find their familiar rhythm on your hips, pulling you closer to his toned body.

“I’m nervous,” you quickly admit to him as you chew on your lip. His eyes watched as your teeth sucked your lips with desperation, darkening from his thoughts. “I’ve only been with one person, and we could be doing everything wrong,” you joke nervously. His thumb runs against your cheek as he cups your face.

“You’re going to be just fine, angel. I’m going to teach you a thing or two, I bet,” Joel whispers against your lips as he lands his plush lips against yours.

You quickly pull away, looking up at him. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.” The nerves were getting the best of you as you wanted it to end.

“Slow down, angel. You are supposed to enjoy the foreplay. Do you know what foreplay is?” He asks as he pushes your body more against the wall.

“Of course I do. My books discuss foreplay, but I’ve always been too nervous to ask Tripp about it. I usually just touch Tripp a little and spit on my hand to wet myself and him, then we fuck.” You explain the way of your everyday sex life. It was all you knew how it went in the real world; your smutty books seemed like fantasy to the realism of your bedroom time. Tripp didn’t know of the dirty little books you were reading.

Joel chuckles as his large thumb runs against your partially opened lips, towering over you with a hungry look in his eye. The weeks of intimate make-outs and slow hands have worked up the anticipation. He is pulling you into a passionate kiss, holding you against the wall. One hand cupped and kept your face still; the other pressed against the wall above your head, enclosing you against the wall.

He nibbles on your lower lip, pulling on your lip until you let out a moan and distracting you from the work of his hands as they move down your body. “So many things to teach you, angel. You look mighty beautiful today,” he whispers against your lips as his fingers gaze at the edges of your dress, causing goosebumps to spread over your body. “I know we already discussed boundaries and safe words, but I want to hear it from you again.”

You were so caught up in the tension and his wandering hands that you nodded your head along with what he said while you processed it. “Oh, um, yellow means uncomfortable. Red means stop,” you mumble to him as your cheeks glow red.

“Good girl,” he groans as his fingers go up the skirt of your dress, running against your thighs full of goosebumps. He uses his pointer finger to run across your mound, “someone’s excited for this to happen.” He smirked as his dark eyes held heavy eye contact as he watched your reactions to his touch.

You let out a shaky breath as you try to untense your body. He started to kiss down your neck, which caused you to lean your head to the side. His worn face and kisses and nibbles cause you to let out a light moan against him. His fingers tease you as you push your hips into his palm.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he gropes your ass. You nod in agreement because you can’t use your words.

He guides you into his clean bedroom. The bed looks like it was quickly made after he got up this morning. Sunlight peeks through his blinds, lighting the room well. He guides you to the edge of the bed, where his fingers find the zipper of your dress. He meets your eyes for approval and a dirty, smug look.

The anticipation of seeing you naked has been itching at Joel for weeks. His fingers delicately unzip you from your dress, leaving you in your undergarments. They were nothing special, but the look on Joel’s face would make you think that you had the sexiest Victoria's Secret lingerie on. Your cheeks turned a new shade of pink, and he asked quickly for consent to continue his work. He palms at your clothed breast gently, then gradually becomes more aggressive. You let out small sounds of pleasure as he works at your breast. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, continuing down to your neck and chest. He licked and kissed down your neck to chest, fingers finding the clasps of your bra.

You started to feel the guilt of not pleasuring Joel. You ran your hand up to cup his face, which caused him to look desperate, giving you a second of control. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled slightly as his fingers finally opened your bra. It fell down your shoulder; he pulled it wholly off your chest. The cold air contact made you whimper, making Joel’s desperate eyes change to a more dominant dark look.

He takes control quickly, setting you down on the bed. He pulls your legs through your panties and starts to kiss your breast, groping the other as he works. His clothed hips sat against yours as you lay on the edge of the bed. His hardened member pulsing against your core, your hands nervously find their way down to him. You rub him through his jeans as you think of a dirty idea.

You wrap your naked body around him, “Will you flip me on top, baby? I wanna try something,” you whimper out to him, which causes him to grin like a villain. He quickly flips and takes his shirt off.

“Do you want me to take my jeans off? They might be a little uncomfortable to sit on,” he quickly says as he doesn’t lean back yet onto the bed. His hands grip your waist to support you, looking up to you for a response.

“No, keep them on,” you mumble back with a light blush. You had never taken control of anything in the bedroom; your dirty thoughts were finally answered. You perched your slit right on top of his clothed member, which caused Joel to let out a shaky breath. He could not keep his eyes off your body and face, smirking like the luckiest man in the world.

You grind your hips against his clothed half, letting out a slight moan from the contact. His hands grip your ass as you continue. The contact from the jeans on your bare pussy was more intense than you thought. You continued to grind until you lost control for a few. Joel sat back and enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself on him.

“Maybe take your jeans off,” you blushed after enjoying yourself. You sat up for him to take them off, helping him unbuckle himself. You gawked at the size of him through his white underwear, swallowing hard as you nervously thought of how he would fit inside of you. He pulls his jeans off, leaning up to meet you in a passionate, messy kiss and holding your naked body against his.

“Look how wet you are for me, baby girl,” he mumbles against you as he pulls up the crotch of his jeans. The sign of your pleasure makes him more horny and want to show you more pleasure. He enjoys the sight of the bright blush and tries to hide your face as you giggle from him, calling out the wetness of his jeans. “I think I want to see for myself,” he bites his lip as he gently sets you on your side beside him. His fingers run up your thighs and gently spread your legs apart as you twist onto your back. You slowly allow him to spread your legs, admiring all of you. “Jesus, baby, soaking wet for me.”

He runs over your pussy lips with his large fingers, stimulating your clit with his other thumb. He smirked as you squirmed from the sensation, arching your back slightly. He continues to tease your sensitive exterior until you beg him for more. Between shaky breaths and moans, you met eyes with Joel as he smirked down at your pleasure, seeing him palming himself from your noises.

Joel finally reached up to your lips as you sucked on his fingers for a few moments, which caused him to let out a groan as you made flirty eye contact with him. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and slowly inserts them into your wet sensitive pussy. Your hand finds the sheets quickly as you moan for Joel. He starts a deep rhythm into you as his thumb works your clit. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he admires your current state. You grind yourself against his motions, which causes more intense pleasure.

“Fuck, Joel, I think I’m gonna cum,” you let out a desperate cry as you were confused by the new pressure Joel was showing you. You had touched yourself to your fantasies and done it to yourself, but this was much different (and better).

“You think? Has a man never made you cum?” he asks with a smug look as he continues to pleasure you, inserting another finger as you cry in pleasure. You shake your head no to him as your hands find your pebbly nipples and run your fingers across them. Joel watches you intensely grind against him and play with your nipples. He could almost cum in his pants from the sight. Your shaky breath and hip motions increase as he continues to finger fuck, “You got it, baby girl. Being such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers,” he praises you until you let out a sharp yelp of pleasure and came on his fingers.

You throw yourself onto the mattress as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit,” you mumble and look up to Joel as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your glossy pussy. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks one clean with a moan of pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You taste as good as I thought,” he says as he smirks, cleaning you off his fingers.

Your eyes wander down to his package, and you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his throbbing member. You reach your hand up to him, leaning forward. You take his long shaft into your hand and palm him gently. Joel’s head throws back from the contact, groaning in pleasure.

Everything moves quickly from this moment on. You help Joel take his underwear off and pump his pre-cum leaking cock. You lean over and give his tip a dramatic kiss as you look up to meet his dark eyes. You eventually guide him inside your mouth for a few moments to give him a little loving.

He lets out a loud moan as he grips your hair, as you use your mouth to please him immensely. You pull off of him with a prominent chin on your face, which he cups and gives you a messy kiss. Before you know it, he flips you onto your knees, and he is behind you now. He gropes at your breast, and his sizeable naked cock grinds against your ass. “Are you ready, angel?” he asks as he leans you up to each other and waits for your response.

“Yes, Joel, more than ready,” you giggle to him as your legs shake in anticipation. One of his large hands wraps around the hip to your front, holding you against him. He lined up their bodies, inserting his thick head into you. Your head throws back in pleasure as he slowly inserts himself fully into you. “Joel, fuck,” you let the whimper as you let your body fall against his as he starts to thrust slowly into you.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks into your ear as he slows his actions for your response.

“You're so big, Joel, but you feel so good,” you breathly moan at him, grinding your hips into his thurst.

“You're taking me so well, baby girl. Feels so good,” he groans in pleasure as his grip on your hips tightens, thrusting deep.

The intimate fucking lasted until nightfall, with many orgasms occurring. At the end of the moment, Joel and you are lying on your backs, trying to catch your breath as you giggle with one another.

“That was better than I could ever imagine, baby girl. ,” he says as he holds you close and kisses your neck. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing your breasts against him.

Joel helped you wash off and prepare to go home for the night. The interaction was friendly and a promise to continue to see each other in the morning to fuck again. The following day was full of more pleasure and many, many orgasms.

Tripp came home, and you were terrified that he would notice a change or something off, but he didn’t. Everything seemed the same as it was before he left.

Joel and you still met twice a week inside the shop. Some of the visits ended with you bent over the table in the back or riding him in the chair.

One of the risky quickies you had was on a movie night in town. Everyone had gone ahead, and Joel said he would stay home, but you told everyone that you had forgotten something at home. You met at a secret secluded spot in town. Joel fucked you hard as he covered your mouth with his large hand, fully clothed.

The secret sex affair had never felt like it played the line of emotional attachment until one evening.

You had been informed of an old craft store the groups had found savaging for supplies. Tripp had invited you to come with him and a group to search for supplies for the town, such as fabrics, crafts, and other supplies you might need. The group would burn the small town down so no one would be attracted to it after the fact since nothing would be there. (They would make sure it didn’t start a wildfire but burn buildings to prevent people from coming closer to Jackson.)

The group of ten people, along with a wagon, was plenty for the mission to salvage the small town. The group included Tripp, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and two other friends of yours. After spending most of the day, it was time to head out after savaging through dusty shelves of picked-over craft supplies. You did find a lot of valuable items that will be helpful for the shop.

You loaded your last box of supplies into the wagon as the guys started to burn other buildings around. You look through your pile as you get excited over your finds. Then you noticed you forgot something inside. You look over to tell Tripp, but he is somewhere else. You should have enough time to grab the last box before they set fire to the building.

You quickly run inside and search for the box you had put together. You could hear some commotion outside the building. Looking around, you finally found the box and ran over to it. Before reaching the box, you slipped over a line of oil the guys had put for the fire. You tried to stand up quickly but couldn’t because of the pain in your ankle. You curse yourself as you try to get up.

Outside the building, the guys had started to light the gasoline line they had already laid down. Tripp was the one to light it. Everyone backed away to their horses and wagon, chatting amongst themselves.

“Um, I’m only seeing five out of six of us,” Tommy says as he runs his hand through his hair, looking around for you.

By this time, you could see the flames inside the building. The flame ran along the line of oil that you were sitting in, which was all over you. You let out a scream of help to the others outside.

Joel was the first to hear you after becoming aware you were missing from the group. Tripp finally realized what was happening, but Joel was already soaking his handkerchief in water and covering his airways to run inside after you. His whole body was in fear of how he would find you. Your screams of terror made him move further into the blazing building. He found you in one of the further rooms holding your ankle and a box of supplies.

“Joel,” you gasped as you tried not to inhale more smoke than you already had. His large arms picked you up quickly and carried you to safety. At that time, you had knocked unconscious from all the smoke inhaling.

Tripp ran to Joel as he carried you outside of the building. “What have I done?! I didn’t know she was inside. Thank you, Joel,” the man rambled as he tried to help Joel to the wagon.

Joel had helped the others get you into the wagon, but his body hit the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Maria jumped into the wagon to help assist you while Tommy helped his brother strip off his clothes and cool him down.

“Is she okay?” Joel let out a shaky breath as he drank some water Tommy had given him. Tommy looked at the level of concern on his brother's face. There was something different in the way he asked and looked at you at this moment that made him raise questions that he would never bring up. The others besides Tripp noticed the same level of concern for you from Joel but didn’t say anything because he had just saved your life.

After gaining consciousness, you slowly recover from the smoke inhalation and start to become more of yourself over the next few days. You had not seen Joel since you were bedridden the last few days. Others had come to visit you with surprises, or their presence made you feel better.

You felt good enough to return to your shop about a week later. The excitement of organizing your new supplies and Tripp's sweet support have driven you to recovery. You kissed Tripp goodbye and headed for the day as he attended a council meeting.

After an hour, you finally found a great organizational system for your new finds. The sound of the shop bell brought you out of your headspace, and you prayed it was one person. You walked around the counter and saw a small bouquet with a small note waiting for you.

‘Hope you are well. - J’ was the only message scribbled on the piece of paper. Your head feels light-headed as your feelings start to make you emotional. He never came to check on you or had a second for you to thank him for saving your life.

You had gone out of your way three days later to visit Joel’s home. You come with a small present of a new flannel shirt with a custom name embroidered into the sleeve. No one had answered the door when he should have been home. Joel sat in his upstairs window, watching you as you knocked on his door. He felt more emotional than he should have watched you leave the present on his doorstep and wiped the tears from your eyes before you turned towards the street. Both of your hearts ached more than they should have from your “non-emotional” affair.

You had received a visit from Joel in the shop or any secretive message from him again after the flowers. The only contact with the broad, mysterious man was from group settings with friends. Your relationship with Tripp had improved from the relationship to the bedroom.

It was the day of your wedding. All the work you both had put into it had finally paid off. You felt off the whole day as your friends surrounded you with much love. You put on your wedding dress as you tried not to smirk at the dirty thought of Joel fucking you in it after you had finished your alterations on it, along with his creative ideas for it.

The day you had dreamed of all your life was a haze, and it did not feel the way it was supposed to. You could barely focus on the day as you tried to find that one person throughout it.

As you make your way down the aisle, you can't help but look around at your friends and community members with a big, fake smile. You find the beautiful brown eyes on Joel as you slow your walk down to meet Tripp. You couldn't help but match the pained look on Joel’s face as you saw each other. You quickly recovered when you met Tripp at the altar.

The officiant was Tommy, as he was one of Tripp’s closest friends and mentors. He talked highly of you and read off the typical wedding speech of love and endearment of marriage.

“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Tommy said as he looked out into the crowd, looking for his brother's eyes, which he could not find in the audience. You found yourself doing the same as Tommy. You felt your heart fall into your stomach from the question, but you thought it broke as you saw no sign of the person you wanted to find and hear speak up.

The wedding was a great success, and much love was spread amongst the community. You had only dreamed of it happening in this messed-up world. The wedding night ended up at the Tipsy Bison, where you hung on your husband's arm and drank your secret emotions in whiskey and anything you could get your hands on. Maria and some of the ladies in your bridal party helped you into the restroom as you felt queasy.

Joel had eased his way into the bar as he watched you hang on your husband’s arm. He had left the wedding early, drinking his sorrows away all day. He hadn’t been the man he thought he could be, but he showed up to the wedding and swept you away from your husband. His cowardly, drunken self had shown up in the bar more like stumbled into it.

It took him a while to reach your newlywed husband as he saw you go to the restroom. “Congratulations, Tripp! You got yourself a lovely wife and life. One man can only be so lucky,” Joel drunkenly says to Tripp as he wraps his arm around him. Trpp looks around at the guys around them.

Tripp nervously chuckles as he looks back at Joel, “thanks, Joel. I know I am the luckiest man in the world today,” he says as he lifts his beer to him.

They cheer their glass of whiskey and make small talk amongst themselves. Joel orders every one of them a round of shots. He rewraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in to whisper in his ear. “When was the last time you fucked her?” Joel whispers into Tripp’s ear.

Tripp whips his head around to him and throws him off his shoulder, “Excuse me, Joel?” He sternly asks him as he looks more shocked than ever. At this time, the girls had helped you out of the bathroom and nursed you with a glass of water as you walked back into the bar. You look up from your glass to see the scene of your husband and lover.

Joel chuckles and shrugs his shoulder, “Boy, I said, when was the last time you fucked her?” he says calmly with a wicked smirk on his face. “And I don’t mean the pathetic.

Fuck that she told me that you gave her. I mean, like a proper fucking her where she can’t remember any dick beside mine.” The smirk on his face as the words come out his face, and everyone’s faces drop in shock from them. Tripp’s fist on Joel’s face is the first sound anyone hears besides gasps. Joel doesn’t fight back as Tripp punishes his beautiful face. Tommy and some of the other patrol group members are the ones who break them up. You didn’t even notice that you had fallen in shock when you met Joel’s eyes, and Tommy pulled him outside.

Before Tripp could find you, you ran for the only place you thought you could be safe: the sewing shop. The tears, dirt, and memories of your affair ruin your precious wedding dress as you run through all the dirt to your safe space. You hysterically cry yourself to sleep as you know your secret has been told to the world. They were going to shun you and kick you out into the cruel world again, you feared.

By the time you awoke in the morning, it seemed the whole town had forgotten the terrible incident at the Tipsy Bison. You walked into your shared home with Tripp quietly to find him passed out on the couch, holding an empty whiskey bottle. The guilt and pain made you want to run away from these problems.

You eventually wake your groom up and tell him everything that happened with Joel. You apologize and promise to work on your relationship. It felt like he had forgiven you too quickly. There were boundaries and much more to discuss, but you planned to work out your relationship with your sweet husband.

After spending a few days off from the shop on your “honeymoon,” you finally returned to your shop to help the community with all its clothing issues, and Tripp went back to his routine. Joel had reportedly left on a solo patrol after the wedding after a rough discussion with Ellie that night.

You casually looked out the window from the shop every time you heard the large gates of Jackson open, hoping to see those locks of brown hair. To just talk to the man that you swore never to love, but that was a lie you always told yourself.

Joel had never returned. Ellie eventually went after him and returned with the news that made you drop to your knees from the worst news ever. He was gone. Forever. Your lover, Joel Miller, had left this world without saying goodbye.

Thank you for reading!

#pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #mrsmandalorianfanfics #mrsmandalorian

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butlervibesonly · 1 month ago

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𝑆𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Y/n is having terrible day, feeling so tired and overwhelmed lately. Until she completely loses it, but Austin gets home and everything feels safe all of sudden.

• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader

• Warnings !! : angst, mentions of panic attack, crying, trembling, swearing,...

• Note : Hope y'all doing well! I thought I could write this, because we all sometimes deserve a good cry and, well, please don't tell me that I'm the only one who feels so overwhelmed lately 😭

Day by day felt same for you. All the work, meetings every day, unfinished projects... It's like a circle going around. And it's enough for you. You're sitting in living room of yours and Austin's house, your laptop lay in your lap as one notification after another flashes across your screen. Meeting tomorrow 6:00 pm, video call with producer of your next movie 11:00 am, interview at 3:00 pm.

The living room was quiet, except for the fast clicking of your keyboard as you write response to an email. The weight of the week pressed heavily on your chest, making even the simple act of sitting still feel exhausting.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting you. It was your manager calling you. All of sudden you remember that the couch is not the place where you should be right now. “No, no, no,” you whispered, scrambling off the couch. "Y/n! Where are you, were supposed to be at a meeting right now!" she says, sounding furious. "Shit, I uh... Sorry, I completely forgot. Will I still be able to make it on time?"

"If you'll manage to get yourself here in like 5 minutes?" You hang up the call, not even bothering to answer her. Anxiety clawed at your chest as you tried to gather your things. In your rush, you tripp over the table's leg, knocking over the glass of water you’d been drinking earlier. It fell down with a loud crash, spilling the water all over the wooden floor.

"Fuck!" you hissed, staring at the mess. The tears fill your eyes, feeling a combination of the frustration and exhaustion you’d been bottling up. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickened, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you.

You can't move, not even think. All you're capable of is sitting down on the floor, leaning against the couch. You hide your face into your hands, sobbing loudly. You didn't think that it would be so much on you and certainly not that it would ruin you like this.

No longer after, you hear the door to the house being open. Austin's home. And you're here like this. This is what he comes home to. What a shame — Austin deserves to arrive to a tidy house where everything is as it should be while you sit here like this.

“Hey, I’m home,” his familiar voice filled the space, calm and grounding. The moment he saw you, he stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern. "Sweetie, what’s going on?” You, don't replying, makes him cross the room quickly, kneeling beside you. His hands wraps you tightly. Austin actually notices the broken glass, which leads him to check if you have any cut.

"Hey, hey — Y/n, baby, what's the matter?" His voice was steady, soothing, and you clung to it like a lifeline. When he notices the laptop with tons of notes and unread emails, he gets it. He inhales slowly. “Doll, breathe okay? I'm here and I won't let you go." You nod, burying your head in his chest.

Austin holds you for a while, making you to steady your breathing. "That’s it. I’m here,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out," he says, his hand careful patting circles on your back.

You started to feel better, although, the tears didn’t stop. He pulls you into his arms more firmly, wrapping you in a hug so warm and secure it almost feels like there is nothing but him.

“It’s too much,” you choke out, mumbling against his chest. “I can’t do this anymore.” Austin and you talked about how overwhelmed you're feeling, but he didn't know it's this intensive.

“You don’t have to do it all at once, ya know,” he brush his fingers through your hair. "Why don't you ask me for a help? You know I'm here for you," you look up at him, your eyes red and swollen from all the crying.

"You've got a lot of your own and I don't want to bother you, Aus," you sob out. Austin smiles softly, cupping your cheek. "Baby, you never bother me, I'm here for you no matter what, okay?" he says. You nod, pulling closer to him again.

He stayed with you like this for few more minutes, holding you close, until your breathing steadied completely. And when you finally lifted your head, not crying anymore, his warm, understanding smile was waiting for you. “Why don’t we clean this up together? Then we’ll figure out the rest. Aight?” he kisses your forehead. "Mhm," you agree, grabbing his hand.

Austin wipes away tears from your cheeks, kissing you again, and helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. In his arms, the chaos of the week seemed just a little less overwhelming. In his arms, you feel safe, loved and cared about. And it's perfect.

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fandom #austin butler x y/n

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midnightcrw · 8 months ago

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Little Vase

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: Your daughter, Daisy, is trying to find something

a/n: This was inspired by one of the reblogs @connorsui made about my one-shot "Awake." I just got a bit inspired and thought that this would be a good idea. You don't have to read the "Mama's Boy" one-shot I wrote, but there is a little bit of a reference. I hope you all will like it, especially @connorsui , since she always reblogs my stories and leaves sweet messages

The few weeks didn't seem to go so well as Daisy started to doubt herself more and more each day because of school.

Daisy wasn't dumb and she knew that, well, she used to know that, but now every day felt like an endless, boring routine that she couldn't find any joy in.

"What's with the dull face?" Your voice was heard from behind her as she just realized that you were watching her. And usually she wasn't the one to cry, but seeing you brought tears to her eyes.

"I..." she tried to start the sentence, but cut herself off as she suddenly began to sob softly.

Immediately you went to her side and embraced her as you let her cry her heart out to you about the fact that she had been feeling terrible about herself.

"Daisy, look at me," you said, but your daughter just buried her face in your chest, "please," and she looked up. Just like Simon, whenever the word "please" fell from your lips, they always listened.

Her eyes were red from crying as you could almost feel your heart breaking, "You're not dumb, okay? You're so smart, everything you do is perfect, and there's nothing wrong with you and your accomplishments. It's okay to fail, it's okay to feel sad, but what's not okay is to insult yourself. You're my daughter, you're your dad's daughter, and you're perfect. There hasn't been a single day that I regret having you and no matter what you do, I will always support you" It was even difficult for you to speak without a wavering tone because the hatred Daisy felt for herself reminded you all too much of Simon's thoughts about himself.

A single tear slid down Daisy's face as she only nodded, obviously too scared to say anything that might make her burst out in tears again.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head "How about we both go to the park?"

Rattling drawers and frantic footsteps could be heard as Simon began to frown at what was going on downstairs. From the footsteps alone and the loud noise, Simon could tell that it wasn't you, but most likely Daisy.

And when the noises didn't stop for the next five minutes, he started to go downstairs when he saw his daughter running through the whole living room, probably trying to find something by throwing opening more drawers.

"You need something?" Simon's gruff voice was barely audible as Daisy just kept going, only giving him a glance.

"Teenagers," he muttered under his breath. Everyone always told him that once your child was a teenager, it would be one of the most confusing years, and Simon definitely understood.

Sometimes she didn't answer, sometimes she got angry and only in the rarest of moments she was at peace, but Simon could never be mad at her.

He had been a mess his whole life until he met you, so if there was one person who could relate, it would definitely be him.

"Little lady, what's the matter?" He asked, knowing that using 'little lady' would make her react, since she didn't like that nickname.

The rattling stopped for a moment as Daisy turned to face him. One... two... three-

"Don't call me that!" There it is, he thought as a triumphant smile made its way across his face.

His daughter just gave an annoyed huff as she continued her search. Simon could only roll his eyes as he watched her. At least you're not at home right now, because you'd probably be angry about the mess she's currently making.

The pillows are on the floor, the drawers are wide open, and the contents are spread out on the floor.

"You're going to clean that up," he said, though Daisy didn't respond back, almost even tripping over the carpet, but before he could rush over she was already back on her feet.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the coffee table where several things were lying in front of it, crouching down with a pop from his knee and a silent 'fuck', cursing softly as he began to pick up some of the items.

"You're getting old," Daisy declared in an amused tone as Simon shot her a look across the room, "We'll see who's laughing when you're in your thirties, because I held up pretty well in the military. You complain while you get the remote control," he replied gruffly as he resigned himself to sitting on the floor and putting the items back in the drawer from there.

"Also, answer my question, Missy," he threw one of her soft childhood toys at her head as she said "ouch"

"So dramatic," he exclaimed as Daisy just narrowed her eyes at him and threw the toy back, trying to hit his head with it, but Simon caught it.

"Fucking reflexes," she cursed quietly, but not quiet enough as he heard her. "Language!" He scolded her in a stern tone.

"You were the one who taught me the word."

"And I regret it every day," Simon said in a hushed voice as he felt shivers run down his spine.

He remembered how angry you were with him when the second word Daisy said as a baby was "fuck" and not "mom".

Slowly getting to his feet after closing the drawer, Simon rubbed his lower back, his eyebrows furrowed at the unpleasant sensation, and it seemed that Daisy had finally found what she was looking for as she immediately rushed into the kitchen, him following her.

Standing in the door frame, his daughter began to fill a vase with water as she placed several daisies in it.

And then a picture of Simon's mother flashed before his eyes. The sight of her putting daisies in a little vase to display in the kitchen when he was a little boy.

"Why?" The sudden question made the teenager turn around with her eyebrows raised in confusion. "The flowers," he said as Daisy understood.

"Two days ago, Mom and I went to the park and she told me some of the meanings of flowers. She said that daisies mean new beginnings, so I went to get some today," there was a little sparkle in her eyes, obviously wanting to believe in a new beginning for herself.

You had told him that she was upset and why she was upset, but he didn't know that you had told her the meanings.

Simon could only watch as she continued, "I'm sure Mom already told you that I cried and I want to be more confident, so maybe this will be a good start," her tone was enthusiastic as she smiled, revealing her dimples.

Just like her, he thought.

When Simon's mother told him about the flowers and smiled, her dimples were also visible. Deep and sunken and something he remembered quite well. Unfortunately, he never got the dimples he wished for because they reminded him of his mother, but Daisy had them.

And now it hit him even harder as he looked at his little girl, who at that moment almost resembled his own mother. Sparkling eyes, smiling face, dimples all visible.

Oh and how he yearned for Daisy to meet his mother, she would have been her grandmother now, but sadly Daisy never got to meet her.

"Dad, is everything-" before she could finish the sentence, she was engulfed by Simon's arms around her, holding her tightly against him as tears streamed down his face, his lip trembling as he bit onto his lower lip, trying to keep himself from sobbing.

Although Daisy was confused at the sudden embrace, she began to wrap her arms around him as Simon inhaled her scent shakily while he ran a hand through her hair and kissed the crown of her head.

"Love you, kid," he whispered softly.

"Love you too," she said as she let her head lay on his chest.

"I'm home," you said as you walked into the living room, where you saw Simon and Daisy sleeping in each other's arms as you smiled fondly.

Quietly, you took the blanket that was lying on the couch as you placed it gently over them, not wanting to wake them, but Simon has always been a light sleeper as he opened his eyes and immediately asked if you had told her.

"Told her what?" You asked back with confusion laced in your tone.

Your husband gestured toward the kitchen, whose door was already open, and you frowned at first until you saw the daisies in a vase.

"Well, I never told her that your mother used to do that," you confessed, as you could see Simon visibly swallowing as his Adam's apple moved.

"Just like her," he finally murmured what he had been thinking, "I wish she was still alive to see her," Simon said with a strained voice as you sat down next to him and kissed his cheek gently.

"I'm sure your mother would have loved her. She's probably watching you right now, and let me tell you, she's so proud of you, Simon," you whispered as Simon moved his head to kiss your lips with his trembling ones

Letting them linger for a moment before he pressed more fleeting kisses all over your face as you held his face in your hands to stop him with a chuckle.

Thank you, Simon mouthed silently with adoration in his eyes.

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streamafterlaughter · 29 days ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain.

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you.

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car.

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door.

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope.

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it.

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?”

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders.

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you.

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl.

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!”

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself.

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four.

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?”

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

#st #fics #munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x oc!reader #hurt/comfort #hurt/no comfort #slow burn #angst #enemies to friends to lovers #modern au #reader is not an elder emo per se... she's 23-24ish #stranger things

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thewriterwithsnakes · 5 months ago

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Monsters Together

Avengers Loki x Avengers Female Reader

Summary: Loki and Reader are close friends, she's the angel to his devil and both have feelings for the other that they refuse to admit, but what happens when he finds out she's not as angelic as he thought?

Warnings: Fluff and angst, Jotun! Loki makes an appearance, comfort, Reader sees herself as a monster.

Note: Reader is Lucifer Morningstars (From the show Lucifer) daughter. No use of Y/N. This is my first story on here so please give me feedback!

Everybody at Stark Tower absolutely adored you. Making things for everyone once they got back from missions was your specialty but you also loved to just hug and be affectionate with everybody too. You had been on a small handful of missions but you hated hurting people and so your usual job was to use your wings to scout out places from above, though most times Tony just used his drones. You didn't mind missing out on the action, you often preferred to be sitting in and reading anyhow. Whether it was bear hugging Nat after a successful reconnaissance assignment, baking Thor some homemade pop-tarts, or making little origami figures for Sam, you loved to give. And that went for everybody, including Loki.

He began with pretending not to care about your affections, choosing to go to his room when you'd try to talk to him in the library or seeming indifferent about your baking. But your friendship slowly grew and blossomed. You were the only person at Stark Tower who actually treated Loki nicely and took an interest in the things he spoke about or liked. Though he'd never admit it, he was incredibly grateful for your seemingly never ending kindness. The two of you became quite close and you grew feelings for the asgardian rather quickly.

However, you knew you could never tell him how you felt. Because despite what everybody thought of you, you knew the truth. You were no angel, quite the opposite infact. You were the daughter of Lucifer himself and that technically made you a demon. You were determined to prove everybody wrong, you did not have to be bad because of your heritage. You were a monster when you were a teenager, it's why Fury put you on the team. He knew the harm you were capable of and talked you into helping, but you'd made him promise that your past stayed between the two of you. You'd let your anger get the better of you when a group of humans were committing horrific acts in the name of your father, claiming it's what he wished for.

You and your father had an rocky relationship but you still cared for him deeply, and you weren't going to let some humans make him feel responsible for their actions, even though you knew your father could handle it. So you slaughtered them. A whole group of satanists gone just like that. That was the day you'd realized you'd become exactly what everybody thought you'd be, and you vowed to never let that happen again. You would not become your father. So it was for the best that you were rarely put on missions, you wouldn't be able to hurt people that way.

Loki was also rarely allowed on missions, despite being at Stark Tower and causing relatively no trouble for nearly two years. It aggravated you that they treated him so. After the New York incident, he had done nothing but keep to himself and mostly do what he was asked. You had only ever know him as the introverted, sarcastic, and handsome man who would occasionally read to you if you had a bad day (even if he made you swear you'd never tell anyone). So the fact that they told you to 'babysit' him while they were on mission and make jabs at him or leave him out all the time made you livid. You had never really gotten angry with the avengers though, you controlled your temper and would reprimand them calmly for their behavior. Though, they never really listened.

You woke up on the wrong side of the bed one particular morning, neck aching from sleeping wrong and mouth incredibly parched. You stood from your bed and promptly tripped on your way to your closet. Okay seriously? Today's going to be one of those days? You thought to yourself. Getting changed into a comfy sweater and determined to make today a good day, you headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. You found Bucky, Steve, and Sam in the kitchen chatting. You smiled at the welcome sight of your friend's.

"Good morning doll," Bucky gave you a soft smile. "Yeah good morning," Steve greeted. "Hey guess what?" Sam asked. You wanted to groan in annoyance at being asked a question right after you woke up but instead you entertained his antics with a smile. "What?" You asked tiredly. "Goooood morning!" He beamed. You giggled. "Good morning to you guys too," You couldn't help the smile spread across your face, despite the bad morning, you had your friend's to cheer you up even when they didn't know anything was wrong.

Bucky gave you a quizzical smile and a raised brow, before you could ask what was up he spoke. "Doll, is that my sweater?" You laughed, "Oh its yours? I saw it on the couch yesterday and took it. Finders keepers you know. It's so soft!" You smiled and rubbed the fabric of the sleeve against your cheek. You hadn't noticed Loki enter, which meant you also hadn't notice the frown that he bore at the notion of you wearing Bucky's sweater. He turned heel and left without anybodys notice. You weren't the only one starting off with a bad morning.

After breakfast you ran into Natasha whom you discussed a movie night with. She told you that she'd invite everybody to watch the new horror movie with you in a few nights. You made sure she meant everyone. Last time, unbeknownst to you, they didn't even tell Loki about it. When he didn't show, you went to his room and promptly realized what happened. You calmly informed everyone that the next time Loki wasn't included in any events invite, you wouldn't be going either. Everybody groaned and whined but you stuck to your guns and ended up skipping T's next party because of Lokis lack of invitation. The memory made you frown and want to go see Loki but you relented. The asgardian did enjoy his alone time and you didn't want to be too annoying or clingy.

You hadn't seen Loki all morning, and while it wasn't entirely unusual, it still saddened you a little. You were trying to ignore your rather disappointing and upsetting morning by watching your favorite movie on the couch when Tony walked in, laughing along with Thor. Thors voice boomed as he spoke. "Yes! I agree!" "I mean I think Loki is still just a sad little boy who can't accept who he really is." Tony laughed at his own statement. Today was not the day. White hot anger shot through you. You honestly didn't know what got into you but you were tired of people talking about Loki like that and especially tired of people taking your kindness as weakness. That bullshit was about to stop.

"What the fuck, Tony?" You snapped, standing from the couch. Both he and Thors eyebrows shot up in surprise. Not only did you just snap at them and swear, but you always called Tony 'T' as a nickname. Even when you were reprimanding him like you were his mother, you used the nickname. He took a step back wearily. "Uhm okay let's calm down for a second-". "No I'm not going to fucking calm down! You treat Loki like shit all the fucking time and you talk about him like he's nothing! And Thor! Condoning this? Loki is your brother! And you wonder why he despises you," You laughed cruelly, upper lip curling into a snarl. "My Lady I appreciate your concern for my brother but you do not know him like I do. He is fine and he can certainly handle a few jokes." "The way you treat him is not a joke, Thor!" Your fists were clenched and you chest was heaving. You could feel yourself shaking with anger and you took a couple deep breaths in a desperate attempt to calm down.

"Darling is everything alright? I heard you yelling?" Loki stepped into the room, Natasha and the super soldiers in tow. His brows were furrowed in concern as he stepped towards you. "Oh come on, you're a monster don't pretend like you give a shit about an angel like her." Your head snapped towards Tony's voice. You saw red and you couldn't think. You had made it vehemently clear when you showed the team your wings to not call you angel. Even as a nickname. You weren't an angel.

You lunged for him. Clamoring ontop of him and you did not pull any punches. You weren't even aware you were screaming until you stopped. Loki clamped his arms down over yours and pried you off of Tony. He led you away gently as Thor grabbed Tony and began leading him to the infirmary. You looked around. Eyes darting from the damage done to Tony's face to the people, your friend's, staring at you, they knew what you were. A monster. You looked up at Loki, wide eyed as tears began to well up. "Lokes, can we please go?" Your voice shook as you spoke, lips trembling. "Of course, dove, of course." You used to adore that nickname, now it just felt like a name born of a lie. Doves were innocent and beautiful, and you were, well, you.

Loki carried you to his room where he gently placed you to sit on his bed. He sat next to you but said nothing. You'd never known him to be the type at a loss for words but right now he said nothing. He shot you a few glances as you tried to hold yourself together. You will not cry infront of him. Do not be weak. You tried but you just couldn't keep it together. You began to sob. Loki pulled you into him, rubbing circles on your back with his left hand and lightly grabbing your waist with his right. You relaxed in his embrace and sniffled into his shirt.

"Darling, you don't have to defend me you know? Especially not if it makes you feel like this." That statement made you want to cry even harder, but you steeled yourself and pulled away from him, even if it broke you. "Loki defending you doesn't make me feel this way, they do. You don't deserve to be treated like that and they never listen." Your voice shook but you refused to cry again. "It's okay my little dove, I can handle it. And besides, I am a monster, I do deserve it." You stiffened. Your jaw clenched and you slapped him across the face lightly. "You are not a monster. You are amazing Loki. Do not ever let anybody tell you any different." You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. He stood angrily. "Yes I am! Do you not remember the attack on New York?! Are you dull?!" "Loki-" "No, you do not understand. I am a monster." "Really Loki? Because monsters don't read to their friends when they have a bad day. Monsters don't help their enemies, monsters don't try to fix their mistakes, Loki, monsters don't-" "Enough!" Loki changed. The once pale, green eyed, asgardian that you fell for became a blue-skinned, red-eyed, Jotun that was fuming with anger. You gasped. "Now you see. How monstrous I truly am. How worthy am I of your kindness now?" "Loki," You paused, debating on what to say. You took a breath and began to speak, slowly standing and stepping towards him as you did.

"Lokes, what you look like does not dictate who you are. Who you were born as is not who you are destined to be. I do not show you kindness because I think you're a saint. I show you kindness because I've been there Lokes. I know what it's like. And I know that hurt people hurt people. I don't care if you never tell me who hurt you but I refuse to become one of the people in that group. Don't let anybody but yourself tell you who you are going to be. I've never known you to let anybody tell you a damn thing before." You gave him a weak smile as you took his hands in yours. His skin was freezing but you didn't mind. "You are beautiful Loki, the most handsome being I've ever laid eyes on, yes even like this. It pains me that you cannot see that." His brows furrowed as his eyes searched yours. "Do you truly believe that darling?" He spoke softly, like he couldn't quite find his voice. You nodded. "How? Why do you not see me as everyone else does?"

Your wings carefully opened, usually everyone would speak about how the dark grey made you look beautiful, but not now. Now they were different. The once gray and beautiful feathered wings were now bat-like, deep red skin webbed between the black structures of the wings that pointed to a tip at the top, reminiscent of horns. "Because, I've been there too. I know what's it's like thinking your a monster, Lokes." You pressed your lips together in worry. Searching his eyes for a reaction. He pulled his left hand from yours as he brought it to your cheek. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours. Melting into the kiss, you reached up and tangled your hands in his hair. His right hand fell to your waist and pulled you into him. You wished you could stay in this moment forever. He pulled away, much to your disappointment.

"If we are monsters, Lokes, than we can be monsters together."

#loki #loki laufeyson #jotun loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki odinson #loki laufesyon x reader #loki of asgard #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston #loki imagine

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gatefleet · 2 years ago

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This is cute, definitely everything I would expect from Tripp and so much more.

How would Trip Tucker react to you being scared during a movie and clinging onto him due to being scared?

Being Scared During Movie Night With Trip Tucker Would Include...

Trip knows you scare easily. You two are close friends, so he'd know how jumpy you can be during horror movies. And it would feel a little mean, but he was running out of ways to try and get you close to him. So, yeah, he chose the horror movie on purpose and basically drag you to watch it with him.

He'd sit close to you, probably too close at first, but as the movie progressed, you'd welcome the proximity.

Trip would not so subtly wrap his arm around your shoulders and every time you flinched, he'd gently brush his fingers against your shoulder.

"You're cute when you're scared," he'd whisper after the third or fourth jump scare, by which point you were leaning heavily against him. You'd just poke him in the side and take a handful of his popcorn to avoid answering. (You'd be very grateful the room was dark so he didn't see your blush).

Trip would tighten his arm around you and absentmindedly rub his fingers up and down your bicep. You'd find yourself burying your face into his neck, his warmth and comforting scent bringing you some semblance of calm.

"I got you," he'd murmur and you'd involuntarily sigh.

When the movie ends and the lights get turned on, you would start to feel embarrassed by your actions and would try to laugh it off, saying something like "sorry for using you as a pillow". Trip would just laugh and tell you not to worry about it, that he's glad he could be your pillow if it meant you were less scared.

"Walk me home?" you'd ask, making sure to keep your voice quiet - you knew how fast rumours spread on the ship. Trip would grin and nod and say "I should pick horror movies more often." And you'd shove him and, through a laugh, ask "You picked it? And still invited me??" which would only make his grin widen.

Tag list: @make-me-imagine @space-helen @wraith-queen-todd @agent-catfish-kenobi @naivara-duneimith @mrs-l-mccoy @thisismysecrethappyplace @geordisoong

*If you want to be added to a tag list, please fill out this form!

#fic rec #star trek enterprise x reader #star trek enterprise reader insert #enterprise x reader #enterprise reader insert #trip tucker x reader #tripp tucker x reader #trip x reader #tripp x reader

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strawbrry-vamp · 3 months ago

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sid wilson/gn reader

request :: this was requested by MANY people (@ihugmomo and i) after seeing Kelly's story on insta of sid finding 'boner pills' that belonged to the people before them in the couch cushions of the tour bus

tw :: suggestive,, i mean it's about boner pills

setting :: sid and yours private tour bus

sid and you had just woken up. you're trying to freshen up in the bus bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth.

as soon as you have a mouth full of toothpaste, sid opens the bathroom door with a huge grin on his face, holding up a little bag with what looks like 2 pills in it. you tilt your head at him as you continue to brush your teeth, curious as to what your boyfriend has now.

"boner pills" is all he says. you choke on the toothpaste and spit it out, your eyes wide as you wipe your face clean.

"what?" you question him. your cheeks growing slightly rosy. his grin goes wider as he walks in and sets his hands on your hips, the pills in his hands pressed against your hip.

"boner pills. i found them in the couch cushions.., maybe i should take em'~" he whispers the last part against your ear, rubbing your hip slowly with his other hand. you let out a snort but the idea sounds exciting in an odd way.

you look at his face and despite his shit eating grin he seems serious-

"are you actually considering taking some random guys boner pills?" you question the dj. he nods without a second thought.

"hell yea i am! why not? it'll be funn~" he teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you sigh and run your hand up his chest, past his shoulders, and around his neck.

"fine" you mutter softly. the dj chuckles in victory, shaking his hand lower and squeezing your ass with his big hand.

"alright sweethear, you'll be in for a treat~" he mutters, grabbing one of the little paper cups from the sink, filling it up and downing the pills.

the idea of fucking on the tour bus isn't new at all, you teo have done that MANY times, but the idea and anticipation of the pills makes it a little more exciting.

"so..how long will it take-" you can't finish your sentence and he's already pinned you against the bathroom wall, his hips grinding against yours as he whispers in your ear, "oh darling I'm not waiting,.. it'll just help make it last"

#tripp writes ☆!¡!#writing #my writing #blurb #fic #slipknot #slipknot fanfic #i passed out after writing this #<3 #sid wilson #sid wilson x reader #x reader #dj starscream #slipknot x reader #tw suggestive #lil spicy

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g00d--m0urning · 6 months ago

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Unnamed Pt. 2 (Daryl Dixon x AFAB!reader)

Yippie, part two!!

Part one

TW/CW: vomiting, gore and violence (not super descriptive, dw), reader is pregnant so obvi AFAB but no gendered descriptors, ex-cop!reader, swearing, no use of Y/N, grammar mistakes

WC: 3942

A/N: I promise it'll pick up speed :'( I'm definitely not doing an episode by episode rewrite. And Daryl and Reader will finally reunite next part, so I'm looking forward to writing that.

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

A car swerves off the road, trying to avoid scrambling pedestrians, straight towards you; you jump over the hood of a car nearby, narrowly avoiding the car as it bursts into flame. You rush back around, checking on the driver; who is nonexistent apparently, there’s nobody in there. “What the fuck!?” you breathe out, jogging over to your car and getting it started. You get the radio on, switching to the emergency channel, wishing you had your police scanner with you as you get onto the road, heading in direction to the precinct.

If there’s one place you’ll be safe it should be a police station, right? There’s at least guns for whatever the hell is going on. Sirens flash in your rearview, trying to get you to pull over--you swear, but do so anyhow. “Do you know why I--Shit! Greenie?” you recognize the voice, it’s officer Cameron. He leans into your open window pulling his sunglasses down. “Heading down to the precinct?”

“Yeah. Do you know what the hell is going on?” you ask, turning the radio down and surveying both Cameron and behind him. It’s like some sort of apocalypse, but that’s far fetched, you think.

He shakes his head, “Nah, nah; I don’t, there’s too much going on. We’re getting calls left and right, whole damn city’s going into panic.” he answers, scratching at his stereotypical cop-stache. His walkie blares, unintelligible words coming through. “Hey, be safe, get off the roads soon.”

He pats your shoulder, walking off quickly as he speeds off. That was no help at all, you knew all of that already. You groan, pulling back onto the road and getting to your destination.

Cops are flooding in and out of the building, paramedics and firefighters all gathered there; behind you there’s black SUV’s pulling in, FBI you assume. What in the shit is going on? You sprint into the building, watching the chief dole out guns to anyone in reach, the news is blaring, radios screeching, people yelling, you can barely hear anything. “Greenie, here! Take this, and get home, youngin’. Stay safe, stay indoors.” the chief orders, shoving a glock and a few boxes of ammo into your arms and practically shoving you out the door. You flounder slightly, confused and in need of answers, opening your mouth to speak but you’re cut off, “No time to explain, too much to do, just keep that kid of yours safe.” You gape, throwing your arms in the air. In your confusion you remember Daryl, crap; Daryl, is he ok? You imagine he should be, the man can survive anything, but still. You pull out your phone and dial his number and he doesn’t answer, of course. Fucking, fuck, fuckity fuck, whatever.

The drive back home is insane, fires and dead people--Dead people? You slam on your brakes, just barely stopping before the body in the middle of the street. You could puke; you’ve seen dead bodies, but never like this. Nothing like this is normal, the body is missing chunks from her arms and neck, like some freako cannibal case.

The body twitches, just a cadaveric spasm (you learned that in school, you spent years looking at dead bodies, after death spasms are just remaining nerves working, it’s normal). She twitches again, and again and she’s up. You stare at the body in disgust and confusion and shock, you could've swore she was just dead. The undead reaches for you, jaws snapping at your ankles and glazed eyes staring at you. A scream garbles itself from your throat as you stagger back, nearly tripping over the car in the process. You fumble with the door handle, reaching over the center console to grab your gun; the thing manages to grab at your ankle in the time, making you kick out, trying to shake it off.

You manage to get the gun and get two bullets into the crazed person. Bile rises in your throat as you look at the dead body, watching to see if she comes back again; thankfully she doesn’t and you can puke. You look at her, the bullet holes in her head, the rotting bite marks in her skin; it’s horrid, nothing you’ve seen before. God.

The car ride home is intense, fires left and right, screaming people--more bitten people, you realize when you look closer at a few of them--and the radio is no help, reports of deaths, murders, and traffic jams. You pull into the parking garage for your apartment, parking in a far corner and tossing a tarp over it to hopefully keep it in better condition and out of view.

You can barely get to your apartment with all the people rushing to and fro throughout the building; some are leaving, packing their stuff into their cars, others are barricading themselves in their apartments. Fortunately you get into your apartment without being trampled, locking both the deadlock and door chain.

Rushing around your apartment is next, filling empty water jugs and bottles with water--who knows how long the water will be on--getting perishables cooked, and inventorying things like batteries, nonperishables, first-aid, anything one needs for an apocalypse.

You thank whatever god that does or doesn’t exist that you went shopping a few days ago; it was a big trip too, you were running low on pretty much everything. So, you don’t need to go try and conquer the shit show that is the shops, which were clearly being raided already. Getting the door barricaded shut was easy enough--bungee cords tied to the door handle and kitchen counter post, chair tucked under the knob (you had to learn quickly how to keep a door shut with Daryl’s old trailer, considering Merle had walked in on the two of you on multiple occasions).

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

A month passes by very slowly. You never realized how boring it could get without modernity. Normal TV stopped playing a week in, even the emergency signal stopped broadcasting after that. Phones and utilities went week two, something about needing to horde supplies for the military who started setting up camps around that time.

You had the vague thought of going to one, figuring it’d be safe and helpful with your pregnancy, but quickly learned otherwise over the radio. Infected managed to sneak into the one closest to you, killing most people, so you dodged that bullet. Which means, you’ve just been entertaining yourself with coloring, and light workouts, reading and people watching or--Zombie watching, you suppose.

The fire escape provides a nice safe vantage point and you pretty much see the whole town--you tried the hall one time and it was overrun, almost didn’t make it back in--and the infected roaming the streets. A few people have passed through, most of them were raiders, passerby, but some were local, those who stayed; officer Cameron stayed, your ultrasound tech, she left a few days ago though.

You’ve been thinking of doing the same as of late. You don’t know what you’d do if you did, head back to Georgia to find Daryl? Wander until you find a safezone or hell, even just a group so you’re not alone anymore.

Your head rests in your hands as you contemplate the risks of leaving the apartment; with the zombies flooding the halls and the unknown number of them in the parking garage and who knows what could happen on the drive.

You roll your eyes, leaning back in the desk chair, “Fuck me, man.” you groan, running a hand down your face as you stand up from the chair, grabbing a backpack out of the closet.

You busy yourself with packing the bag precariously: a few changes of clothes, your first aid kit, a book and notebook, food and water, the few boxes of ammo you have, a knife, a lighter, and in the last bit of space you shove a sleeping bag.

“Yeah, yeah, that should be everything.” you murmur to yourself as you tuck your gun and pocket knife into your belt.

As you get a foot out of the window something catches your eye, making you pause and hurry back inside. You take the sonogram into your hands, staring at the black and white picture before gently placing it in the side pocket before finally slipping out the window.

You curse at the creaky fire escape as a few heads turn your ways, breathing a sigh of relief as they quickly get distracted. Just to be safe, you toss the plant you had long let die onto the street, watching as the undead shuffle to the noise in hopes of a meal. It’s unsettling, the way they move like puppets on a string, but you file that to the back of your mind and make quick work of the stairs.

Slinking down the alley and sneaking across the street is surprisingly easy--they’re genuinely so brain dead, there’s absolutely no semblance of the person they were before; it’s depressing if you think too hard of it. An involuntary sigh of relief pulls from your lips at the sight of your baby still sitting pretty in the garage. Silently you pull the gray tarp off the car, folding it over itself a few times and tossing it in the backseat along with your backpack into the passenger seat.

“Hello, my beautiful girl, I missed you, baby.” you coo at the car, running a hand over the slick, black roof. You dip back into the passenger seat, popping the glove box open and grabbing the map Daryl had insisted you keep in there.

It’d been annoying back then, but it makes you smile today; guess you really did need it. You unfold the map over the hood of your car, tapping the pencil you had wrapped up in the paper against it. Suddenly reading a map seems like a much more important skill as you stare at the lines representing roads, and rivers, and landmarks. Technically, you do know how to read one, but barely, it’s not like you were in a scouts troop as a kid.

There’s a few old markings on the map from Daryl--just a few words, circles to help direct you--it almost makes you cry. You chalk it up to pregnancy hormones as you swallow thickly, marking up the map for your trip. If you remember correctly, it took about twelve hours--including stops--to get to Virginia from Georgia.

So, you should get there in a flash; what traffic is going to be stopping you? Well, the roads might be blocked, you guess you’ll find out. You trace a couple different routes, just in case before the annoyingly familiar groans of the undead echo across the concrete building.

Folding the map up you sigh, “Let's get this show on the road.” You tap Baby’s hood twice before getting into the car, propping the map up against your backpack in the passenger seat.

The drive is…surprisingly nice, you popped in an old mix tape into the stereo, tapping the wheel in beat to every song. Only downside is the traffic--and people aren’t even alive, you’d think that’d be the one good thing about the apocalypse, but no! Roads are clogged with cars, some crashed and others just stopped, like everyone just disappeared. Back roads aren’t too horrible though, it’s nice seeing something alive, even if it’s just flora.

Nature comes a-calling around the fourth hour of the drive, pulling off at an old mom&pop looking gas station. The bell hanging from a sparkly ribbon jingles as you slowly push the door open, waiting in the entrance for anything, dead or alive.

Nothing comes after a minute or two, so you continue in, looking around the small building; it’s in shockingly good condition. It’s pretty cleaned out, but everything is intact. Something bumps against your foot as you walk through the aisles, making you yelp. It’s just a soda can, you learn when you look down, letting out a shaky chuckle.

“Phew, we’re good,” you exhale aloud, squatting down with a groan to pick up the can. You run a hand over your bump when you stand back, smiling when she kicks against your hand.

To your dismay, the bathrooms are locked and you’d really prefer not to pop a squat in a bush. After a bit of searching, you find the key attached to a fly swatter behind the counter and finally get to do your do.

You confiscate a bottle of hand sanitizer on your way out, slathering your hands in the liquid. As you pass the gas pump you figure it wouldn’t hurt to top off your tank, maybe fill a few cans; you just hope the damn things still have gas.

“Moment of truth…” you mutter as you stick the nozzle into the fuel door, pulling the lever and hoping like hell. Gas starts flowing and you’re elated, bouncing between your feet as you go grab gas cans.

“On the road again, I just can’t wait to get on the road again,” you hum as you start driving again, feeling pretty good about everything.

The sun is shining, backroads are clear, gas tank is full, what isn’t there to feel good about?

Eventually you have to get back onto the highway, but that high and mighty feeling still stays strong through the last five and a half hours of the drive--It doesn’t when you get to Atlanta. If you thought other cities were bad, then you don’t have a clue what to consider Atlanta.

The sun had already set hours ago, so you decide it’s best to just pull over, get some sleep and try to brave the mess that once was Interstate 85. Sleep comes easy, considering; it’s a warm summer night, muggy as all hell though, but you got a good few hours before the sound of horse hooves awoke you--Horse hooves?

You sit up hastily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you look out the window to try and identify where the clopping is coming from. You get eyes on the horse and realize it’s definitely not wild, it’s got a rider.

A guy, you think, adorned with a cowboy hat and a bag of something slung over his shoulder. His head turns and you shrink into the backseat, hoping he didn’t see you. He did, if the way the horse’s footsteps seem come closer with every passing moment; maybe he’s just passing by--He’s not.

Something metal taps against the car window (a gun, it’s a gun, oh no, he’s gonna shoot you), “Hey, I can see you in there; I don’t mean harm,” says a faint country accent.

You have a half thought of reaching for your gun, which stupidly still lays in the front seat, you’d be dead before you grabbed it, so you can be reasonable. You tilt your head up, meet with a man wearing a sheriffs--not a cowboy, okie dokie--hat, something of a hesitant, sheepish smile revealing pearly teeth.

“I’m going to sit up, and turn around.” you inform him, raising hands in surrender as you very slowly sit up. He may’ve said he doesn’t mean harm, but you don’t want to risk any sudden movements.

He watches tentatively and you do the same, staring at each other for a solid minute--maybe he is a cowboy, you swear this could be a scene out of an old western. His eyes rove over you, searching for weapons or you assume. A protective hand instinctively goes to your stomach, shielding your baby from his scorching glare.

“You’re pregnant?” are the next words out of his mouth; they’re quiet, almost worried, you could barely make them out through the glass. It takes you a second to answer, it’s not like you thought nobody would notice, you’re five months pregnant, but you hoped it wouldn’t be super obvious.

“No, I’m just super fat,” you retort, scowling as you roll the window down, “What'd you want, cowboy?”

That makes him snort, shaking his head slightly, “Cowboy? Nah, my name’s Sheriff Rick Grimes, you?”

You continue scrutinizing the man, a deep frown pulling at your lips. He looks friendly enough, looks can be deceiving though. You lean into the front seat, popping open your glove compartment and grab your ID, passing it to--Rick, apparently.

“You’re an officer too?” oh yeah, you forgot you keep your badge in your wallet. You nod slightly, snatching the wallet from his grip, deciding he’s had more than enough time with it.

“Was, an officer.” you correct, watching him just laugh at you like this is a perfectly normal interaction, water cooler chat. “In case you haven’t noticed, the world’s gone to shit, I’m not an officer anymore, you’re not a sheriff, we’re survivors, that’s it.”

“Ain’t you a ray of sunshine?” he quips, raising his hands in mock surrender as he catches sight of your unamused expression. “Well, sunshine, need a ride into the city?”

You go to say ‘no,’ but pause for a moment. A horse is probably easier, fits between cars better, quieter, it’s not a bad idea. Trusting him though? Could be. You could kill him, take the horse, but that’s a little bit much, you reckon.

“Ugh--yeah, a ride would be, huuugh, nice.” you concede, deciding if he were to kill you, it’d be a better way to go than to have your flesh torn from your skin. You wave your hand out the window, getting him to move so you open the car door.

Joints pop as you exit the car, crackling when you stretch and walk over to the passenger side to grab your bag. You tick a mental checklist as you gather your belongings--knife, in your belt, gun, on the other side of your belt, bag, over your shoulder, yep. You’ve got everything.

The metal of the car is warm as you caress her, “I’ll be back, Baby, I promise,” is what you mumble to the car whilst you press a kiss to the roof.

Rick’s eyebrow raises slightly, clearing not understanding the deep bond between a person and their beloved car. All he gets in return is a glare whilst you hike your bag higher onto your shoulder, shuffling over to his horse.

“Well? Let’s go, cowboy, we’re losing daylight!” you nag, causing the sheriff to hurry over, clicking his tongue.

“You’re impatient, anyone ever told you that?” he questions rhetorically as he pulls himself onto the horse, sticking a hand out to help you up.

Your, seemingly permanent, glower is directed at his hand, like it’s a piece of filth as you hoist yourself onto the horse. The animal nickers and starts trotting once more; instinctively your hands go to Rick’s shoulders to keep from falling off the horse.

“Sooo… What’re hoping to find in Atlanta?” Rick asks, looking over his shoulder to look at you. All you do is shrug, not wishing to speak to him--even if you did, you don’t know what you’re hoping to find.

He nods slowly at your non-answer, “I’m tryin’ find my wife, Lori, and my son, Carl,” he informs you, making you feel bad at the fact that he’s opening up.

You blame pregnancy hormones for the guilty feeling, “You having a boy or girl or do you even know?” is the next thing you register from his mouth.

You decide to answer this one, “A girl, found out the day this shit started.” you reveal, throwing him a bone with the extra tidbit. His head bobs along with your words, trying to keep an eye both on you and the busy road.

“I always wanted a little girl. Give Carl someone to protect when he gets older, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense. How old is he--Carl, I mean.”

“‘Bout eleven; shit, by now he’s probably twelve.”

“How’d you get separated from your wife and kid?”

That makes Rick pause, and you start backtracking. It’s none of your business, you shouldn’t have asked. He snickers at your stammering, shaking his head.

“It’s ok, don’t worry; I was just trying to figure out how to word it.” he explains, scratching the back of his neck, “I got shot on duty--none of us realized there was a third guy--sent me into a coma. Next thing I knew I woke up and half the world was dead and my house was cleared out.”

You wince slightly. Damn, that must suck, you didn’t have any friends when this started, so you didn't have anyone to worry about. You couldn’t imagine being in a coma for months then waking up and the world’s ended and your family’s gone.

“Ooh, that’s shitty, man. Really. Hope you find them.” you apologize, awkwardly patting his shoulder.

“That makes two of us.” he agrees, falling into focus as you hit the city limit.

The streets are clearer in the city, apparently nobody made it into the city. You look around, tightening your grip on Rick’s shoulder in worry as you turn the corner. Suddenly the horse is bucking upwards, tossing both of you off of her. It takes a moment to realize why you’re on the floor, but the second you see the horde you're panicking.

“Rick, hey man, up! We’ve gotta go.” you yell, grabbing at his shoulder. Unlike yourself--who luckily landed on your bag--Rick got knocked on his ass, clearly winded as he only stares in horror.

Undead start growling, getting distracted from the now dead horse, stumbling towards fresh meat. It’s cruel, but you leave. You spin, looking for somewhere to run, eyes snagging on a tank. It’s a short sprint to the military vehicle, but a vague struggle to climb up, barreling down the hatch and yanking it shut.

You can barely catch your breath before growling fills your ears, a zombie soldier crawling towards you. Before you can even try to scream, a shot rings out followed by arguably the most painful ringing noise.

Your head whips around, finding Rick holding his ears, gun in one hand. If you could hear yourself think, you’d yell at him. What kind of idiot shoots a gun in a tank? A metal box? He could’ve blown our eardrums out! He also saved your life, so he gets a pass.

“Thanks.” you gasp when the ringing finally subsides, rubbing furiously at your temple. He presents you with a shaky thumbs up, against the opposite wall you’re leaning on. “Sorry for leaving you out there,” you whisper, peeking an eye open to look at him.

“You’re good, I would've done the same if I could’ve--no offense.” he admits, lazily waving a hand through the air.

You chuckle, shaking your head, “Trust me, none taken.”

You’re ready to just pass out here in the tank, yet Rick still seems loaded, drawing the peek-a-boo hatch open, staring at the scene outside. He mutters something you can’t quite hear, relocking the hatch and sliding back down.

“The weapons bag…my walkie…” are the few distraught words you manage to catch, shutting your eyes.

It’s silence between the two of you for a long stretch until the radio crackles. You think you’re hearing things since Rick didn’t seem to hear anything, but it crackles again. Rick hears it this time, nearly getting whiplash with the speed he turned his head.

He looks at you for confirmation, to make sure he’s not crazy. He’s not, unless you’re both hearing things and going insane. You nod, wiggling over to kneel next to him in front of the radio when it crackles a third time; a voice comes through this time.

“Hey, you two. Dumbasses. Y’all in the tank. You guys cozy in there?”

#daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x gn!reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #Unnamed

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dolliepiled · 1 month ago

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moon...,, bestie,,, moa/gn reader cuddling in bed but moa gets "jealous" (playfully) of the stuffed animal you're cuddling

{ omg bestie your brain is so big like im melting this idea is sO CUTES 🥺 }

moametal x gn! reader ~~ she gets jealous of a stuffie

you and moa were currently cuddling on your shared bed, she had just got home a few hours ago from a long and grueling tour with babymetal and was rightfully exhausted.

the two of you were watching love live (upon moa's request) for what seemed like the thousandth time, but you didn't mind since it was quite good. you could tell moa was getting sleepy since she rested her head on your shoulder, slightly yawning.

the idol moves her arms to wrap around your torso, but a certain stuffed bunny was preventing her from cuddling you. moa huffed softly at this, pouting up at you.

"heyy,, why aren't you cuddling me?" she whined, slightly nuzzling her head against your shoulder. "that's my spot, lil bunny." moa mumbled with a small smile.

you let out a soft chuckle, knowing she's only playing but you decided to tease her a bit. "the stuffie needs snuggles too, love." you teased, before wrapping an arm around your girlfriend's shoulder and holding the stuffed toy in the other.

moa let out a soft hum, closing her eyes and practically melting in your embrace. "mmm,, that's better." she said softly, sleep coming faster than she would like but she knows she needs the proper rest. you kissed her forehead before slowly falling asleep yourself.

#moon writes!¡ 🧸#tripp 🐾#babymetal #moametal #moa kikuchi #moametal x reader #moa kikuchi x reader #requests #blurb #<33

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captainlunaxmen · 1 year ago

Text

Just a Little More

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve's over Nancy, and there's a girl on his mind. One night out and some flirting might lead to a jealous Steve getting drunk.

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

I'm not a party person. I'm definitely not a party person.

The music is too loud, the people are... too many. I don't know how Steve always manages to drag me in these things.

And yet, here I am, once again.

"C'mon, don't give me that face," he tells me as we walk to the house hosting the party. "You need to go out more,"

"I'm fine as I am. Thanks" I complain. "you just insist because you need moral support"

"For what?" He asks, faking innocence.

"You want to see Nancy"

"That's... no, okay? I'm over her. I swear." He says confidently "my eyes are on someone else now"

"Oh yeah?" I ask, with a surprised laugh "and who might that be?"

"I'm sure you already know her" he answers.

"Please don't tell it's Robin" I beg, I couldn't even warn him.

"Nah, don't worry." He says wrapping an arm around my shoulders urging me to walk faster towards the party "you'll find it out... sooner or later"

"Whatever"

I hope he's not gonna have his heart broken again. I hated seeing him after the break up with Nancy.

We've been friends for a little while now. We got closer last year after an alternate dimensional creature attacked me, Nancy, Jonathan and him at Byers' house. He turned out to be not so much of an asshole, he even became my brother's best friend... big surprise. And now we're here.

As we enter the big house we're instantly surrounded by music, people and a strong smell of alcohol.

"Want something to drink?" Steve shouts over the music in my ear.

"No, thanks" I shout back.

"I'll be right back" he tells me.

"I'll go get some air"

He gives me a 'already?' look, nods and goes to the kitchen I suppose.

Yep, I decide I already need some air so I try to find my way to the back.

I walk through the sea of people dancing and chatting at the party as quickly as possible until I successfully get to the back.

Luckily there are a very few people, some are smoking and some are... holding their heads, feeling dizzy probably.

I try to enjoy the moment of peace, my mind wandering about who the girl Steve has a crush on now might be. Especially since he told me I know her.

Could it be Casey from my art class?

Or maybe it's Kelly...

I really can't-

"Hello there"

A voice interrupts my stream of thoughts.

Turning around I find myself face to face with none other than Billy Hargoves himself.

"Uh... Hi" I politely say, turning back around away from him.

I sense him walking beside me, he doesn't speak, though I can feel his eyes on me. The gesture makes me more nervous as seconds go on.

I try to not acknowledge him tok much, hoping he'd get tired and walk back inside, but unfortunately he stays.

Where the hell is Steve when I need him?

"I feel very lucky tonight" he casually say.

"Why's that?" I ask, knowing there's no way to ignore him anymore.

"Because I finally got you on your own and not attached to Harrington's hip" he answers with a grin.

"Yeah... uhm.. he's just getting something to drink. He... he'll be here sooner or later" I nervously laugh, trying to sound as casual as him.

"The later the better" he says softly.

"Uhm..." I think of something to say but nothing comes out.

"You tutor my sister, right? Well.. my step-sister" he asks.

"Yeah,I think. Max, right?"

"That's her. She always talks about you with my father and his girlfriend. She always talks about how nice and gentle you are" he speaks softly, slightly leaning towards me.

"Yeah.. well, that's nice of her..." I say, not looking at him "I only try to make her feel as comfortable as I can"

"And we all appreciate it" he basically whispers in my ear.

I step away, but I tripp into what looks like a vase and almost fall.

Billy's hands quickly catch me, helping me up, but even when I'm up straight again he doesn't let go. His grip isn't tight, I could shrug it off, but I can't seem to anyway.

"Careful there, gorgeous" he winks.

"Sorry... uh... thanks" I finally get out of his grip.

"My pleasure" he says looking down at me. He's still very close to me and as soon as I can catch his eyes falling to my lips, I take a deep breath turning my head to look back inside for Steve.

"Uhm... I think I'll go find Steve... I'll see you around" I say walking past him, but he moves to block my way.

"I'm sure he's fine. Stop worrying about him, for once... and" he moves his hand to rub, so slightly, my arm. "And start to worry about yourself... maybe we-"

He's cut off by Steve's voice.

"There you are!"

He's drunk... already?

"Ah! King Steve finally joined us!" Billy declare sarcastically.

"Are you drunk already?" I ask.

"Me? I could never..." he walks towards us, but almost fall as he nears.

"Yeah... sure" I say unconvinced.

"Damn... don't you look stunning..." he hiccups.

"Yeah. Okay. We're going." I state.

"No no no no no no" Steve blurts out. "You were having fun with him. Keep... keep going"

Oh god...

"C'mon Steve." I try to grab him to make him walk, but he yank himself away, falling to the ground.

"Don't worry, I'm okay" he quickly blurts out.

I let out a bug frustrated sigh, thinking about how to bring him home.

"Need a help taking his ass home?" Billy suddenly asks.

"I... you don't" I start.

"It's no trouble, sweetheart" he grins. "C'mon"

He grabs Steve's arm and lifts him up, helping him walk all the way to Billy's car.

"Open the door" he tells me and I rush to open the backseat door so Billy can make Steve lay there.

Then Billy and I get in as well and he starts to drive.

------

"Thanks, Billy" I say as Billy help Steve sit on the couch in Steve's house.

"No problem, sweetheart" he smirk looking back at me. "Take care, King Steve" he adds sarcastically

I walk him to the door.

"You know...how about you and I finish what we started earlier?" He suggests.

"Uh?"

"About you starting to worry about yourself instead of him." He says, moving to grab my hand.

"Uhm... I.. I'm sorry..." I carefully move my hand out of his grip, glancing quickly at Steve on the couch "I better check on him"

"As you wish" He raises both hands in surrender, but surprisingly he smiles too. "If you ever change your mind, give me a call, sweetheart"

When Billy walks back to his car I walk back to Steve.

"Let's get you to bed, uh?" I say and he mutter something I can't catch.

I help him upstairs and to his bed.

"Oh thanks" he says like he just realised what's happening.

"No problem, Steve" I say as I help him take his shoes off.

"I ruined your night" he mutters.

"What?" I'm confused.

"You seemed reeeeeally comfortable with Hargoves tonight" he blurts out.

"What are you talking about?"

"I say you two talking.. and he was preeeeeetty close" he explains.

"We were talking about Max, his sister. I tutor her"

Why do I need to explain myself? And why does he sounds... jealous?

"He was too close" he states and he finally crawls to lay under the covers of his bed.

"Yeah. I guess." I say with a say and heading downstairs to grab him a glass of water.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"To grab some water"

"You coming back... right?" He seems.. anxious. Why?

"Sure"

I walk downstairs to finally grab a glass and quickly go back to Steve only to see him talking his shirt off, to sleep, the sight blocks me.

It happened before... I already saw him taking his shirt off, for any sort of reasons.. well.. not all possible reasons. But now... now feels different. Why?

Fuck.

I take a deep breath and walk back in his bedroom.

"There you go" I hand him the glass and sit on the bed.

"Thank you" he says and manages to drink the whole glass.

"You're welcome"

We stay in a comfortable silence for a little while, Steve layed down taking deep breath and me sitting on his bed playing with my fingers.

"You feeling okay?" I suddenly ask and he hums nodding.

"Good. You need anything I'll be downstairs" I tell him with a smile and get up.

"What? You're not sleeping here?" He gestures to the other side of the bed.

"You want me to sleep there?" I chuckle.

I always sleep on his couch when sometimes it's too late to walk home... never in his bed.. with him.

"Yeah." He says as a matter of fact.

"I... o-okay" I say. "I.. I just don't have anything to wear to bed"

My plan was to take off my trousers and shirt and rely on the covers... I obviously can't if sleeping in his bed.

"Just grab something of mine. I don't mind.. quite the opposite actually" he says simply.

"What?" I chuckle surprised.

"Well.. seeing the girl I have my eyes on in my clothes... God..." he says, without thinking probably.

What...

"Uh?"

"How you have realised I'll never understand" he giggles.

Okay.. he's drunk.

"Sure" I say unconvinced.

I grab one of his shirts and a pair of pj's pants and get changed in the bathroom.

As I walk back in his room he's still laying down, but he uncovered the other side of his bed for me to get in.

"Hey!" He exclaims.

"What?" I ask.

"I haven't seen you!" He complains.

"You're basically sleeping, Stevie. You can't keep your eyes open." I tell him. "Go to sleep"

"You don't believe me" he states.

"About what?"

"You being the girl... I.. like" he hiccups.

Is it true?

"You're drunk, Steve. Your just-"

"No, no, no, no" he says holding his finger to my lips, to stop me from keep speaking. "You're that girl. You. You. Yooou"

So... my crush isn't one-sided as I always thought..

"Stevie..."

"Kiss me?"

"Uh?" I ask taken aback.

"Please?" He says getting closer. Cuddling against me.

"How about this... you sleep and tomorrow morning, if you still feel like this, I'll kiss you." I tell him.

"And you'll believe me?" He asks looking at me with puppy eyes.

"Yes Steve. I'll believe you" I say, thankful for the darkness hiding my flustered face.

"Great" he says cuddling more against me.

"Goodnight Steve"

" 'Night... love"

The thing is... I do believe him. I just want him to suffer a little more.

#stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington

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