#you would almost think it's spring. but a woman like me is made to love

[lunasilvis]

Dreaming of a smouldering love, sweet romance, steamy fulfilling of bodily desires where both are taken to some variety of pure heavenly lust. a love which at the same time is practical, dependable, where my lover and I both earn a good buck of money and are ambitious, live in our dream house, where the spaces feel clean, healthy, rustic and we're self-sufficient. A lil fruit garden, vegetable yard, a bookcase that hardly can hold its own contents lol, seeing places of the world together, or just a sunday morning hike in the nearby forest together.

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[msschemmenti]

one year down, forever to go

emily prentiss x reader

monday morning guest— part two

a/n: i’m actually very surprised how much y’all enjoyed the first part of this because it was in fact a crack idea i came up with randomly !! but here’s a second part and i apologize if it sucks i really had no clue where this was going <3

a/n to the a/n: also my requests are open if y’all wanna request something :)

“you’re married?!” garcia was the first to exclaim and emily sighed in exasperation. she eyed her chosen family and knew she wasn’t getting out of answering this. at all. 

“Technically i’m divorced now.” emily grimaced as she watched garcia’s face contort further in confusion.

“How can this be? How did you get married and divorced within the hour? You know I thought we were done with secrets after you faked your death but i see I was wrong and you actually don’t love me.” garcia grumbled as she threw herself on the couch in disdain. 

“Uh- Penelope, this is not the same thing. I found out at the same time you did.” Emily scoffed as she ran a hand through her hair. She lowered herself behind her desk and made to pick up a file, hoping the team would take the hint. Wishful thinking.

“Oh no, none of that. Spill.” Tara grinned as she perched on the arm of the couch expectantly. Everyone follows her lead in getting comfortable. 

“Aren’t there some case files out there you should all be working on?” Emily groaned, nodding toward their desks in the bullpen. 

“Sure, but this is far more interesting.” JJ grinned with a shrug. 

“Yeah, if I recall correctly it was only a little while ago that you were hyperbolically recounting my wives. And low and behold, you’ve got a wife of your own.” Rossi goaded. 

“How many wives are you at?” Luke asked, easily distracted but ever happy to be included. 

“Not the point, Newbie. Stop distracting. We’re here to learn about Emily’s secret wife, not Rossi’s 6 wives.” Garcia chastised, turning everyone’s attention back to Emily. 

“God, I’m not getting out of this am I?” Emily asked, and when everyone shook their heads her shoulders slumped, and she accepted her fate. 

-

backpacking through Europe may have been her best idea yet, or so she thought at least. y/n didn’t seem to agree. they were nearing the end of their spring break and as beautiful and adventure filled as the days had been— the younger woman was ready to get to a hotel.

“em, if we take one more turn you’ll be carrying me back to civilization.” y/n groaned.

“back to civilization? there’s like 60 people hiking the same trail we’re on.” emily rolled her eyes.

“okay and? i haven’t seen a mall in days. i’m going through serious withdrawals.” y/n sighed as they did in fact take another turn.

“oh stop your whining, we’re almost at the hotel. i told you, we could spend half the trip backpacking and the other half in the lavish luxury you dream of so often.” emily smiled over her shoulder, reaching for y/n’s hand to pull her down the trail.

“i just don’t understand. your mother damn near begged us to use her hotel and resort recommendations and you want to be outside. in nature’s home. couldn’t have gotten that from your mom.” y/n lamented, putting up very little fight as emily guided her further through the park.

emily listened to her complain for most of the days they’d been out but she really couldn’t think of any other person she’d want with her. meeting y/n had been rather serendipitous. she’d just started her mastered at yale and moved into this astronomically expensive apartment in georgetown. and she was hell bent on supporting herself. so she’d found a restaurant looking for waitresses and put in an application. on her way out the hostess had changed and she’d rather dumbly stopped at the station with the application in her hand.

“hi?” the woman chuckled, eyeing the brunette curiously.

emily’s cheeks reddened under the woman’s gaze and she cleared her throat. “uh, hi. they told me to give my application to the hostess but i don’t see her anymore.”

the woman leaned against the hostess stand with a chuckle and reached her hand out to accept the paper. “that was nina, she works mornings. i’m the evening girl.”

emily nodded disjointedly and handed the application over, “morning girl is nina. so that makes you?”

the hostess grinned and leaned a bit further toward emily, “that makes me y/n,” y/n looked at the top of the application searching for a name. “emily.”

emily smiled and rubbed the back of her neck, “nice to meet you.”

y/n smirked as she eyed emily, “you’ve never had a job before have you?”

emily’s cheeks reddened instantly and she grimaced, “is it that obvious?”

“yeah sweet. it’s real obvious. but you’re cute, so i’ll put in a good word for you.” y/n shrugged and headed back through the restaurant with the application. emily’s cheeks felt like they were on fire but it only worsened when y/n sent a flirty wave over her shoulder before disappearing behind the bar.

and from that day on they’d been inseparable. y/n was working her way through law school and even after emily had been rightfully fired from the restaurant, y/n had become her favorite person. somewhere during the first year of them knowing each other they finally gave into the ever present flirtation and got together.

that’s how they ended up in europe anyway. emily was graduating in a few months and this was set to be her last big hurrah of freedom before diving head first into work. she’d sold y/n on the beauty of europe and also her company.

“i don’t know if i ever told you. but anytime mother and i were in france, i spent most of my time with my grandfather up in his cabin in the french alps. there was a 10-year stretch where he didn't come down off the mountain. he had no electricity, no running water, and his food supplies came from the land. those were some of my fondest memories.”

at emily’s explanation, y/n quieted a bit and leaned in to kiss her lips sweetly. “well i guess it’s not that bad then. as long as i can get you drunk tonight?”

“i guess. not like i can say no to you.”

“not like you ever have before. if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

and drunk they did get. so much so that they woke up with little to no memory of the night before. rings on fingers and heads pounding. they were married.

-

“So what, now you’re like Rossi? A profiler with a hot ex-wife?” Tara asked as Emily brought the story to a close. Emily glared at the woman but shrugged a little in defeat.

“well she didn’t seem too upset when she left. if anything she seemed eager for something…” spencer pointed out.

“that’s right boy genius, she thanked me. a scorned ex wife wouldn’t have done that!” garcia nodded frantically, pinning emily with a glare.

“well we are divorced. i signed the paper but while she’s in town, she’s agreed to let me make up for the twenty years of marriage i’ve missed out on.” emily replied, cheeks flushing as everyone cheered and whooped.

“when? where? what’s the plan?” garcia pestered.

“i don’t know penelope, she only just left. plus with our work load who knows when i’ll be able to actually take her out.”

garcia shook her head in determination, “mark my words, i will make sure this happens. i can smell a second wedding already.”

emily looked at the tech analyst in disbelief and jj seemed to get the hint. “alright cupid, let’s leave emily to ponder her date ideas.” emily gave jj a grateful look as she watched her corral everyone out of her office.

second wedding was a bit extreme but she really did hope between her and garcia’s wishful thinking that she’d be out with y/n very soon.

-

“took you long enough. i thought you might’ve changed your mind.” y/n grinned as the hostess brought her over to emily.

emily stood with a sheepish smile, it had been 3 weeks since y/n had popped back into her life and as much as she wanted to get their date on the books— serial killers really stopped at nothing. “trust me, if i’d had it my way we would’ve been doing this far sooner. but alas, serial killers don’t care about my social life.”

y/n laughed softly pulling emily into a hug, “well i’m glad you could pencil me in. between solving your murders and jetting all over the US.”

“you make it sound so glamorous.” emily chuckled, pulling the seat out for y/n and taking her own seat.

“well there is a sort of luxury involved with having a jet.” y/n replied with a shrug.

emily rolled her eyes affectionately, “sure, when you’re not on your way to a gruesome crime scene.”

“well you got me there, you always did have a stronger stomach than me when it came to all that criminal stuff.” y/n smiled as she pulled the menu open.

“you know me, compartmentalizing at its finest.” emily shrugged opening her own menu as well.

“ah ah ah, i was there when you invented that excuse. it didn’t work then and it won’t work now.” y/n tsked.

“you really haven’t changed.” emily smiled with a content sigh.

“you know what i always say, if it not broke—“ y/n started.

“don’t fix it.” emily finished just as the waitress returned to take their order. with orders placed, a bottle of wine poured they both settled into a familiar volley.

“so you seem to know everything that’s happened to me in the last twenty years but i’m a little in the dark.”

“well i only know what your mother knows, which im sure isn’t much considering it’s your mother. but i’ll bite. after you graduated, i finished out law school. i think by then you’d started you undercover work though. started working and haven’t stopped since.”

emily nodded, “right right, and you got engaged while you were married to me.”

y/n scoffed with a laugh, “hey! you’re one to talk, miss i had to be resurrected. my engagement— while short lived was a big mistake. i was young and tired of being alone. but as i said before finding out i was still married was the least of my worries then.”

emily nodded sadly, knowing the pressures of loneliness very well. “loneliness will do that. also can i just explain my whole death arc, so you’ll stop holding it against me?”

“absolutely, be my guest.”

“so there was this super evil guy, i went under and he kinda fell in love with me—“

“fell in love with my wife?”

“shh! yes unfortunately he did. well obviously he went down for his crimes but he escaped prison and came after my team. and he really wanted me dead and impaled me with a chair leg.”

“a chair leg?! you can’t be serious.”

“yes a chair leg, and he got away. so it wasn’t exactly safe for me to be living and that led to me faking my death. and spending my recovery alone in paris.” emily explained.

“well where the hell is he now?”

“dead. my team was very adamant about avenging my death.” emily smiled watching the younger woman nod in approval.

“good. nobody murders my wife and gets away with it.” y/n glared before winking over at emily.

both women talked over their food, flirting like old times, and really just enjoying each other’s company. once their plates had been cleared, a waitress brought out a slice of pie with the words “happy anniversary” drizzled across the plate.

“well well well, you weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to make up for those missed anniversaries.” y/n smiled, holding a spoonful of pie out for emily to eat. she accepted the offered sweet treat with a furious blush, but couldn’t help to think just how whipped she still was for this woman.

-

emily sighed happily, pulling y/n through the streets of dc. one of y/n hands was wrapped in her own while the other held a bouquet of flowers emily had purchased no their post-dinner walk. when they made it back to the parking lot, they reluctantly walked over to y/n’s car together.

y/n grinned as she leaned against the hood of her car, emily’s hand still in her own. she watched as a smile curled on emily’s lips and at the sight of that dimple y/n pulled her as close as she could out in the parking lot. “well em, i must say this was a rather enjoyable belated anniversary celebration. i can only think of one thing to make it perfect.”

“oh really, and what would that be? you know i’ve always strived for perfection.” emily asked, eyes flickering between y/n’s eyes and lips.

“you always were an overachiever. glad to see that’s still the same.” y/n grinned, pulled emily into a kiss that lit their bodies on fire. if there was one thing emily prentiss could do, the woman could kiss. and 20 years seemed to only add to her skills. y/n held out for as long as she could but when could feel her heartbeat in her ears she reluctantly pulled away to breathe. emily looked down at her smugly and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. boy did she miss that.

“next anniversary is on me?” y/n whispered against emily’s lips.

“well i sure like the sound of that.” emily agreed easily.

one anniversary down, only about 19 more to go.

[writermani4c]

Wise Man - Willard Russel x Reader

@pizgif

Summary: He waited for her for a long time, but she was much better than his fantasies. A wise man knows when he has found his wife.

Warnings: English is not my first language. Not the second or third, I'm sorry. I'm just a Brazilian woman with Bill Skarsgard fever who likes to write to relieve tension. I hope you like it and that the BIG mistakes don't bother you while reading. With love, me.

It's romantic, kind of fluffy (if you like men who are madly in love) and with a slight spice of obscenity. Carefully follow along.

She smelled like lilies when she walked into the cereal aisle.

Every man prepares for that moment. The moment when your life will be turned upside down, all because of a peculiar smell that makes you turn your neck without any concern other than finding its source, then you come face to face with a woman. Your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of your children, the warm hand on your shoulder after a dog day, the smell of lilies on the pillow on the other side of the bed, the soft voice that will say “honey, is that you?” when you get home or “why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” in the morning.

Willard was waiting for her. Even though he didn't like to admit it out loud, he hoped there was someone like that in that strange, inhospitable hole in the world. And when she turned the corner, holding a bag of flour and some eggs, smelling of lilies, with dirt-stained fingernails and a yellow dress that had seen better springs, he knew that this would be his wife.

She looked up only subtly, acknowledging his presence because he was tall enough to block the view of some items on the small shelf, but not tall enough to notice that he was losing his breath at her handsome face.

Beautiful eyes.

Her eyes burned into a particular corner of his brain, coming into his dreams like two headlights. Willard never liked sleeping, seeing it as necessary as eating and pissing, but much more boring. He slept and felt paranoid about being so vulnerable. But when he started dreaming about her eyes, sleep became a pleasant escape.

Small town, people talk. They said that her father had left early, so it was just the mother and daughter in a house falling apart. The mother was sick and the daughter took care of keeping them alive and fed, took care of the family garden and sold flowers to the local flower shop, also repaired worn-out clothes and cleaned some houses. Willard brought shirts and she took them like treasures, pressing them to her chest before thanking him for thinking of her for the service. She didn't know that he himself cut some holes in his shirts and stopped buying some items for the house to have an excuse to see her. It was worth it when your shirts came back sewn and smelling of fresh earth, tulips and daisies.

Someone needed to take care of her. Someone needed to keep her warm at night and scare away the strangers who followed in her footsteps when she make your purchases.

Most of them started to cower when she started waving at Willard when she saw him on the street. He almost chickened out himself, thinking about what chance she had of seeing him with some affection, and took a while to return the wave, which gave her the confidence to do so more often.

'Good morning, Mr. Russel' and ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Russel’, always with a sweet voice and a small smile at the corner of his mouth, that corner that made him want to lean over her, hold her face and run his index finger across her lips, because they were beautiful, they looked soft and smooth. He told her to cut the formalities, but she always called him that, changing to her first name only when he went to her house with clothes to mend.

─ You have a lot of clothes to sew." She smiled and Willard thought she might know.

She was beautiful in a disconcerting way. She had that face that made the day seem less depressing, with a smart smile and sparkling eyes, and that body that made him wish ─ and then feel even slightly guilty for letting his thoughts go so far ─ that he could travel with his mouth, kissing her curves. as he breathed in the scent she must have had beneath her clothes, that skin as smooth as silk at his mercy. She wasn't stupid, though.

─ It's as if termites do their damage whenever I take my eyes off them. Sorry for bringing you so much trouble.

─ No, you don't need to apologize for that. But you spend a lot of money on me.

─ It's money well spent.

─ I… ─ She breathed in, batting her eyelashes as a gentle rebuke to whatever was in her brain. Without meaning to, Willard took a step forward. Don't beat yourself up, my blossom, that's what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself from taking that step inside the screened-in porch of her house. ─ You…

─ Willard.

─ Willard. ─ He waved with a resigned smile. ─ I don't want to be rude.

─ Please be. Be rude all you want, I won't care.

─ Do you want to stay for dinner?

His heart became a nearly dead muscle beneath her words, only to start beating full force again, skipping beats like a runner in a marathon. He couldn't believe it. A huge smile spread across his face. It would be the first time she invited him in. This gave him hope. He gave him a duty.

─ I want it.

Once inside her personal space, the place where she lived, he felt enveloped to the core, because the entire house smelled like her. Soft earth and flowers.

Her couch was warmer and more comfortable. The table at home, although small, was warmer and the chairs were comfortable. The smell of his food made him feel a dormant, wild hunger, something that was more inside his head than his stomach, roaring and digging with sharp nails into his flesh. He went to the bathroom, with the window facing the backyard. A small window, but one he could sneak through, and he left it open from the inside.

That night, he had dinner with his future wife and her mother, a lady so laughing and talkative that she filled him with questions full of ulterior motives.

If he was married, which he gladly answered no, looking at the flush-cheeked girl at the other end of the table. If he intended to get married, he said yes. What he worked with, whether he drank, whether he was baptized, whether he was up to date with his church obligations. Willard maintained a helpful smile because he knew she heard all his answers and, somewhere, evaluated everything he said.

Later, when they said goodbye, she walked him to the door.

─ Thank you for staying. We don't receive many visitors.

─ Thank you for dinner. No one has cooked for me for a long time.

─ You can come when you want to be questioned over a plate of food.

Under the yellow light of the screen porch, the world seemed very small and very simple. There was nothing but him and that woman. Nothing but the way she looked at him, her face lifted to meet his eyes, and the way she breathed, how she filled her lungs all at once and emptied them more slowly. Her cheeks were warmer in the yellow light, the glow in her eyes was like the gravitational force making him yield to her, and the flutter of those eyelashes stirred Willard's heart once again.

He waited for her, but he couldn't believe that reality could be so good.

His right hand touched hers, gentle but lewd, and he leaned in, consuming the air between them, to kiss her left cheek.

He didn't apologize or look back before walking through the balcony door, hearing the thud as it closed behind him. He walked through the garden and disappeared into the darkness, but he didn't go away. He watched her touch her cheek with her fingertips and take a deep breath, then a smile spread across her face.

Every night for two months, he climbed in through that bathroom window in the middle of the night and walked silently around the house. He touched the notes she signed by hand, her grocery list or some reminder on the refrigerator door, ran his fingers through the clothes on the line at the back of the house and went through her things. He defiled her space because he felt a certain comfort in it, in walking through the house and pushing open her bedroom door, watching her sleep peacefully in the narrow bed. She looked peaceful and carefree, as she should be. She looked fragile, small (and that had nothing to do with her height) and defenseless against all the dangers of that land, a little sparrow that he wanted to hold in his hands and keep, because flying around would get him into trouble.

Every time he was invited to dinner, which started to happen more and more frequently, he allowed himself to leave a kiss as a farewell.

A kiss on the cheek, on the back of her hands, on her knuckles, on her forehead. It was like a small dose from a bottle that he hoped he could take a bigger swig of. Holding her face and bringing his lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair as he enjoyed the feeling of his own lips on the skin of the one who stole his heart, because he couldn't take her mouth and, by the good Lord, no part underneath that yellow button-down dress.

One night, when he turned his back, she followed him outside.

─ Willard! ─ The urgency made him stop in place, but it took him a while to turn on his heels, finding her outside with him, away from the yellow lights.

Outside, the world was different.

The darkness of the night was infested with dangers and evil men. The world smelled not just of soft earth and flowers, but also of gunpowder and blood, ambition, power and unbridled pleasure, suffering and bitterness, things that didn't feel like her but were familiar to him. She came after Willard and he waited for her because she was too small to be alone. She didn't need to be alone. Never again.

─ What was it?

─ I don't know.

─ Yes, you know. ─ She needed to know, because the wait wasn't just exciting. It was heartbreaking too. Each night watching her from afar, unable to run his nose along the delicate curve of her neck or cover her when she moved in her sleep and made the blanket slide, slipping away to reveal a pair of breasts covered only by a soft nightgown. The things he did to himself imagining having those breasts in his mouth... ─ It's dark out here. Whatever you say will remain in the dark.

─ What if it’s bad?

─ Nothing good is said in the dark, my dear, that's why we only talked alone on your balcony.

She nodded.

She was barefoot. Most of the time, she stayed barefoot inside the house, limiting herself to wearing lace-up boots over socks when she needed to go into town.

─ I want to be your darling.

─ You are. Always has been, ever since I laid eyes on you.

─ No, not like that. I want to be more than I am now. ─ She took a deep breath. ─ I want you to come and have dinner here every day and not have to pay for me to fix your clothes, because it gives me great pleasure to do so. I don't want you to have to leave after you kiss me.

─ Be my wife then, darling.

That time, she was the one who held his hand. Her fingers were smaller than his, knotted from working with the earth and sewing threads, and that only made her more perfect. She intertwined her fingers with his and leaned forward on the tips of her toes, seeking him with that warm, inviting mouth, her breathing quickened beneath her dress.

Willard married her twice.

The second time was in the church where she was baptized, with God's blessing. He gave her a white dress and a veil, only to move it away from her face and kiss her when the priest gave him permission. Few people went to the ceremony and neither of them cared, they didn't have a party, they just went home and he carried her to bed.

The first time, however, was in the dark, outside the house. And it smelled like soft earth and lilies.

Willard married his wife the moment he lay on top of her, hearing her soft giggle as she hugged his waist with her legs, squeezing her thighs around him as the tip of his cock entered the folds of that tight, wet-as-hell pussy. heaven should be. He wanted to give her a good bed, but they didn't need that while they were numb with passion, their lips locked in a kiss full of voluptuousness and promises.

You'll never be alone again, he promised as he ran his fingers over her face, removing the strands of hair stuck to her sweaty skin, hitting that pussy.

You'll never be afraid, he gasped, because she was holding him tight and moaning against his neck, trying to contain herself. I didn't want her to have to hold back those sly, tearful, sweet sounds, but I didn't want her mother to suspect that he was between her only daughter's legs, so she whispered, between smiles, so that she would make less noise, and she would also smile, but he couldn't contain himself.

You'll never have to worry about anything in the world, he slid his hand between their bodies, while he felt his dick invading her, and he slid his finger over her folds, on that pulsing beam. He rubbed it just for pleasure and indulgence, watching her squirm, biting her right hand to keep still, as beautiful and ethereal as angels must be. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

Every day and every night, my blossom, I will be the devil that guards you, her taste was like the best of drinks and the best of drugs. An addiction he would maintain with devotion.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging as her walls clenched so tight it was unbearable. He let her cum, kissing her neck and collarbone lovingly, running his hands over her soft breasts. Every day and every night, you will be loved like a goddess and a slut, my blossom, because you are mine.

[why4anne]

Daylight

Part: 7/?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Social Media au

Summary: Follow the love story of a global pop icon and a monegasque F1 driver

Face claim: Taylor Swift (Singing) + others

Masterlist

2022

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, ellenpompeo and 645 943 others

theathletesgala:

Musical guest and award presenter Y/N L/N is in the building. She's wearing a stunning Versace gown and a killer cat eye.

view comments:

yourusername: 🫶🫶

y/nenjoyer: she looks STUNNING!!

girlypopy/n: Dare I say... Revenge dress?

vintagel/n: Oh, definitely!

holyleclerc: It's giving Princess Diana

lonely4lifer: Charles, look at what you lost

havemyleclerc: She is the one who fumbled

summery/n: Y/N lost a second tier F1 driver, Charles lost global pop icon, highest streamed female artist, the woman, the myth, the legend Y/N L/N

leclerctingzz: He's not a second tier F1 driver, he's the future of Ferrari

ubery/n: How many WDC?

childofdivorce: Auntie Blake pick me up I'm scared

lewishamilton: @/donatella_versace you outdid yourself with this dress

donatella_versace: Donatella VERSACE💜

theathletesgala:

liked by lewishamilton, simonebiles and 426 392 others

theathletesgala:

It's a star-studded event here tonight. Multiple athletes have now made their way onto the red carpet including:

Formula 1 drivers Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, Footballers Neymar and Alex Morgan, Gymnast Simone Biles, Figure-skater Tessa Virtue and NFL Quarterback Joe Burrow

Keep your eyes open for your favorite athlete to arrive!

view comments:

joeyb_9: Such a well organized event!

lewishamilton: Blessed to be here🙏

charles_leclerc: Happy to be included❤️

alexmorgan13: This will be so much fun

moreleclerc: Putting Neymar and Charles beside each other is CRAZY

lilttley/n: Okay but can we talk about how both Lewis Hamilton AND Joe Burrow interacted on the post about Y/N earlier??

gemmal/n: Y/N now has the chance to do the funniest thing ever and get with Max Verstappen

home4l/n: STOP- that would be too iconic

justleclerc: The world is not ready for that sort of chaos

theathletesgala

liked by yourusername, badgalriri and 742 674 others

theathletesgala:

Miss Y/N L/N what a performance!🙌👏

view comments:

heavenlyy/n: Mother did not come to play tonight!

realy/nfan: fr! She saw that both of her exes were in attendance and said "hold my wine glass"

unifiedy/n: Singing ATW and you're loosing me back to back while STARING at table number 12 (Charles and Neymar's table) is absolutely FOUL!

justl/nthingz: She's so cunty, I love it!

l/ny/nfavorite: Okay but why is no one talking about how she literally sang silver springs by Fleetwood Mac and in true Stevie Nicks fashion was glaring daggers into Charles while doing so!!!!!???

bluey/n: next level balls frfr!

bobbiey/n: Okay but that outfit??? Mother ATE!🔥

holyl/n: Ass out and everything for Charles to see🤭

justy/nfans: I just know that that man will go home and cry himself to sleep tonight

celebritynews

Liked by 202 392 people

celebritynews:

After receiving an anonymous tip from a reliable source, it seems as if Y/N L/N left the athletes gala after party with one of the guests of the night. Who it was is still unclear but stay tuned on celebritynews for more information!

view comments:

summery/n: This girl is a wag at heart

flowersbyl/n: That's so true! She does love her athletes😭

y/nleftpinkynail: Honestly she's so real for that😍

l/nbyy/n: Just like me fr!

chad.larsen: She's such a slut!🙄

leclerc_l/n: Bro GTFO with your musty ass comments!!🤢

brianyoung: Watch out whoever it is. She's gonna write a song about you😵‍💫

littley/n: It's almost like THAT'S HER FUCKING JOB???🤯

greenflowers: misogyny☕️

l/nhouse: Okay but who was it???!!!!

justagirl: I think it was Joe Burrow, did you see how he was looking at her while she was performing??😍

godlyy/n: I hope with my entire being that it's Max Verstappen💀

slayvettel: That would be too iconic!!

icemanfan: Y'all tripping, it's gotta be Lewis!

heavenlyy/n: HOLD UP! What if it was Neymar??

yourusername

liked by blakelively, nicorosberg and 6 582 194 others

yourusername:

cellphone on silent📱❌

comments are disabled:

Tag-list: @mindflay3r @karmabyfernando @lightdragonrayne @ilove-tswizzle @sadg3 @sassyheroneckgiant @c-losur3 @spideybv28 @boiohboii @charizznorizz @amel1ee @loloekie @sunny44 @janeholt3 @berrnuu

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Augh I loved writing this so much help- I think the new Damsel movie affected me too much 😭 Biggest thanks to @cashmoneyyysstuff for beta reading this she’s a QUEEN Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Light cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, Shinso is a year younger than reader, reader is 20 years old, f!reader, reader's mother is dead, medieval fantasy setting, reader's childhood friend is Kirishima, but you're also close friends with Deku and Ururaka, mentions of perverted actions (not done by a name character though, reader's nickname is Cactus, slight spoilers of the actual show/manga, reader is shorter than Kirishima and Shinso, some mentions of IzuOcha.

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x reader, Izuku Midoriya x Ochako Uraraka

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: A Pot of Stew

Ssssss.... 

The crackle of the fireplace is all you really hear as you flit around through your home, grabbing the big stew pot from the wooden cabinet. The house was quiet, which was surprising, considering you lived with three other people.  

Your father was out with his friend, hoping to catch some fish before the harsh winter would freeze over the lakes. You had sent your brother out earlier to fetch some tomatoes from the market, as the small garden you maintained only produced lettuce, potatoes, onions, and strawberries when they were in season. Hopefully the tomatoes your brother brought back could have seeds that you could save to plant in the spring.  

Your sister was most likely out at Chiyo’s home, the old woman ran the local apothecary was sweet enough to allow the small girl to aid her in crushing herbs and spices to create the medicines that lined her shelves.  

Walking outside, you grab the big bucket by the door, making your way to the home of the Kirishimas, who had a well they let you use to fetch water.  

You mentally groan, knowing that carrying a bucket of water would be a bitch to carry back home. Hopefully you could bug your red-haired friend to aid you in carrying it home if he was around.  

He wasn’t there unfortunately, hooking the bucket to the rope before sending it down to collect water. Once if was full, you pulled the rope that you were holding onto with all your strength, allowing the pulley system to bear most of the weight. 

Deadpanning, you know most of the water that spills out will end on you, sighing in defeat with the resignation that complaining will get you nowhere. You had a family to feed.  

Rolling up the sleeves of your white blouse, you grab the bucket’s handle with both hands, almost dropping it from the sheer weight of it, lamenting the cold sting of the water against your skin as it seeps through your leggings.  

It was almost comical, the way your face was scrunched in concentration as you made your way home, watching your step from the occasional loose pebble so you wouldn’t trip. Your muscles ached, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle, considering how much worse you’d been through when it came to other tasks that required similar feats. It was another perk of being the oldest child, though you were only a year older than your brother, yet you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your family meant the world to you, and you would do everything in your power to protect them. 

Reaching the steps leading up to the door of your home, you set the bucket down finally, your arms practically singing in relief, only for you to pick it up again after turning the doorknob and closing the door shut with your boot-clad foot.  

Making your way to the stew pot that was currently sitting over the fire, you fill it with the water you fetched, letting it boil while you prepared the vegetables you needed.  

Busying yourself with chopping the ingredients you already had, you took the sprigs of cilantro you saved from a few days ago and sliced them so they were thin enough. As you worked your way through the small pile, the door opened to reveal a familiar tuft of purple hair.  

“Hey Toshi!” you call out, waving from the kitchen to signal your presence.  

Your brother takes notice, entering the room and setting the sack of tomatoes on the counter before making his way over to you, ruffling your hair in affection before raising an eyebrow.  

“How much stew are you making?” he asks suspiciously “The four of us aren’t going to be able to eat all of that in time before it tastes bad.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. “You underestimate Eri’s appetite. Plus, Ejiro, Ochako and Izuku are coming over to join us. I’m making enough for each of our families.” 

Hitoshi chuckles in response, walking over to the makeshift pantry you made a few months ago, grabbing a loaf of bread. “Y/N, you would feed the entire village if you could. Actually, you could, but we wouldn’t let you.” he rolls his eyes playfully and you send him a halfhearted glare.  

“It’s called being nice, Mr. Hitoshi Aizawa, a concept foreign to your cold heart.” you say, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically.  

He groans, taking the knife from you to slice the bread, while you move to take the tomatoes. “Ugh stop, you sound like Toshinori.” he gripes, punching your shoulder in annoyance. 

A giggle bursts out of your lips at that, abandoning the tomatoes you were washing in the basket to strike a pose, letting out an “I AM HERE!” in the best Toshinori Yagi impression you could.  

They used to call him All Might, a war hero who was known for bringing your home country countless victories, the wars he entered had casualty numbers so low that you wondered if he was blessed by the gods. Blessed in the past tense though, as after a critical injury in a recent war, he was deemed unable to fight and left the army with an honorable discharge, growing into the old man he was today, running a stand at the marketplace where he sold quality vegetables from his extensive garden. 

You must’ve looked ridiculous as you posed however, because your brother cackles, throwing his head back and smiling so wide his face must’ve hurt. You laugh too, happiness bubbling in your chest from seeing him so happy as well. You chuck an unwashed tomato at him, knowing he’d catch it, and reprimand him.  

“Okay now get back to work you rodent, we’re feeding a group of seven tonight.” you tease, sticking out your tongue and he tosses the tomato back to you, returning to slicing the bread.  

You both spent the next hour or so like that, trading banter and occasionally fighting, but managing to be productive as you finish cutting all your vegetables, throwing them into the stew pot, creating a lovely aroma that makes your stomach growl in hunger.  

You hear a knock at the door, Hitoshi opting to answer it. It was Chiyo, returning Eri home for the day, the girl in question had a bright smile on her face, and a few bottles of unknown liquids in her hands that were sure to join the others in the washroom’s medicine cabinet. 

“Toshi!!” she squeals, and you smile, hearing a small uff! escape the purplenette’s lips, knowing that Eri most likely hugged him around his legs, the only part of him she could really reach at the moment. Sometimes it was infuriating how much taller he was than you. 

Your brother thanks Chiyo, and the old lady leaves with the promise of fresh baked goods during her next visit. 

“Where’s Y/N??” Eri asks excitedly, and you want to snort at her random burst of hyperness.  

“M’over here banana.” you call from where you sat in front of the fireplace, and Eri trudges over with an annoyed look over her face.  

“I told you not to call me that!” she whines, huffing as she sits down next to you, trying to look into the pot to see what you were making.  

“Careful- it’s hot.” You warn, gently pushing her away. “Plus you love bananas!” 

Your little sister makes a face plopping down to lie on the floor with a grumpy expression. “I hate bananas.” she grumbles, stretching her limbs out to take up as much of the floor as she could. 

You quirk up an eyebrow “Are you sure? You sure look like one.” you say gathering her hair once she sits up and holding it high above her head to resemble the elongated shape of a banana fruit. 

She splutters, and you snort releasing her hair, so it falls straight into her face, and returning your attention to the stew, stirring it and taking the wooden spoon you had out, gathering some of the liquid before bringing it to your lips, tasting it briefly.  

“Toshi!” you call from where you sat. “Can you bring me some paprika?”  

You hear a Yeah whatever come from the hallway, and you return your attention back to your sulking sister.  

“Y’know for someone so nice, you’re really mean.” she pouts, and you smile in a half hearted apology, fixing her hair.  

“Eri, my job as your sister, as well as Toshi’s as your brother, is to be mean to you because we love you so much. If we were nice to you all the time, wouldn’t we be boring?” you ask. 

“Hmm... I guess. Is Izuku coming over today?” she asks, laying her head on your lap looking up at you with impossibly huge sparkling red puppy eyes.  

You laugh, flicking her nose lightly. Izuku was her favorite out of your friends, probably because he worked in the markets, for Toshinori no less, and he brought her apples every day. 

“Yes, Izuku’s coming over for dinner tonight, so go wash up and be on your best behavior.” you say warningly, and she nods, jumping up excitedly and rushing to your shared room.  

Hitoshi enters the living room at that moment, sprinkling the paprika into the stew until you told him to stop, stirring lightly before tasting and grinning in satisfaction.  

Handing him the spoon, Hitoshi has a taste of his own, his eyes lighting up as the flavors hit his tastebuds.  

“Damn.” is all he says, and you punch his leg, happy that he likes it, but scolding him for his language.  

“Eri’s in the other room idiot, go change and I’ll get dinner served before they get here.” you order, shooing him out and you grab a damp towel from the kitchen to carry the pot into the room, setting it on the countertop and placing aforementioned towel on top so it stays warm. Putting out the fire in the living room, you open a cabinet, grabbing a large plate and exactly seven bowls and spoons. Setting the dishes around the large wooden dining table, you spoon equal amounts of stew into each of the bowls, the aroma even stronger now, and you give Eri extra because you know she’ll ask you for more later. 

You brought out the wooden carved drinking cups that you had, a gift from your late mother, setting them around the table and filling them with some of the remaining water from the well. Putting the plate in the middle of the table, you set the bread Hitoshi cut from earlier along with some goat cheese gifted to you by Izuku the previous day.  

Wiping your hands on your apron, you sigh, about to call for your siblings before you hear a knock at the door, revealing a smiling Ejiro Kirishima.  

“Hey Eji!” you beam, wrapping your arms around your lifelong friend, who reciprocates the action and spins you around before setting you down, welcoming himself in- he'd been to your home so frequently certain mannerisms weren’t needed anymore.  

“Hey Cactus!” he smiles back, and you roll your eyes at the nickname.  

Ejiro insisted that your kindness was always a facade and that you were a fiery beast that even hell was afraid of in secret, and the redhead had given you the nickname once seeing you scold man around your age for trying to look up Ochako’s skirt. You insisted you weren’t usually like this, but the nickname stuck, a term of endearment used only by your closest friends.  

You smack his forearm, and roll your eyes, still smiling however, leading him to the dining room before calling out for your siblings.    

Eri bounds in, only to be swept up in Ejiro’s arms, giggling as he spins her around to simulate flight.  

He sets her down and she jumps up, “Again, again!” she chants.  

He groans, feigning pain. “But you’re so heavy!” He says, pretending to faint in your direction, and you roll your eyes and push him off, laughing. “I think you got bigger since the last time I saw you.” 

Eri giggles, putting her hands on her hips. “I saw you this morning silly! That was only...” she counts on her fingers. “47 hours ago!”  

You want to laugh, knowing that it was only about 13 hours since she last saw the red haired male, but Ejiro only groans even more.  

“Exactly! You grew so much from then! You might become even taller than your sister.” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.  

Eri giggles, and Hitoshi joins you three in the living room, stealing a piece of cheese from the table and popping it in his mouth.  

"I'm not short!" You grumble, crossing your arms. "You and Hitoshi are just stupidly tall."

You hear another knock on the door, leaving Ejiro and your siblings to their devices as you answer it. Opening the door, you’re met with Izuku, accompanied by Ochako, both giving you a hug as you let them in, exchanging their signature greetings.  

“Hey Cactus!” they both chirp in unison and you snort, ruffling Izuku’s hair and squeezing Ochako’s shoulder.  

“Hey you two!” you say, smiling knowingly. Ever since the two of them became a couple, they were practically joined at the hip.  

You make your way to the dining room, where Ejiro is seen with Eri on his shoulders, the latter playing with former’s hair while he talks to your brother.  

Eri’s eyes light up, practically launching herself off the poor red head- thankfully Izuku catches her, producing another apple from his satchel.  

You groan, knowing that if Eri ate too many she would grow to get sick of them, but you let her be, knowing that she was happy.  

You all sit down to eat, Shinso on one side of you and Eri on the other. Ejiro sat next to your brother and Izuku sat next to Eri with his girlfriend on his other side.  

Catching up with your friends, and eating the food you made, your eyes couldn’t help but wander to the empty seat at the head of the table, where your father sat.  

He still hadn’t returned from his fishing trip.  

You knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself, yet you couldn’t help but worry. Your father, Shota Aizawa sustained a terrible injury in a war a few years ago, forcing him to amputate his own leg in order to prevent the toxins from a poison covered arrow from reaching his neural system. It was the same year your mother had died, leaving you, a grieving ten-year-old you to take care of your father as well as a nine-year-old Hitoshi and a newborn Eri. You were forced to grow up fast in those times, a dark patch for your family, yet it became a big part of who you were today.  

Which included your boundless paranoia, thinking the worst as the time ticked by, with no sight of your father.  

Hitoshi takes notice, sending you a worried glance, opening his mouth to say something before the door swings open. 

It was your father, relief flooding through you before you took in his haggard state. He looks tired, more tired than usual. Your father always looked tired, but never weary.  

His eyes scan the room, frantically looking around, before the settle on you.  

“I have bad news.” 

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

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@sagejin @cax-per @kit-katsukii

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x fem!reader. [vol i] [vol ii]

summary: Eddie’s shenanigans continue, a heavy conversation leads to revealing factors of how Eddie and reader know eachother.

tw: no minors, mentions of drug use/ abuse, death etc. heavy heavy flirting (eddie) eventual smut

wc: 6.4k

a/n: we made it! Another week another volume to our disgusting eddie series. I’m still blown away by the likes, reblogs, and comments this series is receiving— thank you all so much I appreciate it.

s/o: @pinkrelish @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington + @agentmarvel for helping me bring this fic to life! whether that’s beta reading, me bouncing ideas from to you or just talking me through the pacing- I love you all, this fic would be dog shit without you 🤍♥️💋

/

/

You wake to the buzzing of your alarm, your hand reaching through the dark across your night stand, slamming down hard on the smooth cold snooze button, but it doesn’t stop.

You hit it again.

Nothing.

The beeps get louder. Your eyelids open a sliver to reveal the numbers 3:42 in red on your alarm clock.

Your alarm usually doesn’t go off until 6, and it’s Sunday so it was never set.

Fuck.

You fly out of bed, disregarding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, and open the door. A light haze of smoke fills the hallway, white and dreamy, almost pretty like smoke on the water after it rains.

The smoke detector in the kitchen is alarming, letting you know that the potential of a fire is a great possibility with its ominous beeping. You spring into action, throwing open the kitchen window above the sink.

Where is it coming from?

At first you think it’s from the oven, maybe Eddie left a frozen pizza in too long. The older oven was fussy anyway, burning things one day and the next taking forever to heat up to 375° to make a batch of cookies. But the oven was cold, the smoke seemed to be coming from the living room, a quick glance shows you exactly what was going on.

The couch was on fire.

-

The hum of the vacuum and the clinking swirl of jagged edges of chips and popcorn kernels sucking up through the cylinders into the bag invade the small living room. It took Eddie almost an hour to find where you kept the cleaning supplies. Turns out the smaller door across from the basement was a closet, housed with everything you’d need to clean a home.

Each item was stacked neatly, brooms and a floppy white mop hung on hooks, the vacuum tucked into the corner. The top shelf had bleach, and a green can labeled ‘comet’ that looked like it could be mistaken for Parmesan cheese. Judging by the bottle with blue liquid and a window on it, called Windex, Eddie figured that probably wasn’t for spills on counters. He settled for a bottle of 409 and a roll of paper towels. Grabbing the vacuum with him.

After vacuuming the living room and wiping up the spills in the kitchen, he sits down. A lit joint between his lips, contemplating on what the actual fuck happened tonight. He couldn’t believe your bitchy attitude or the way your lip trembled after he called you out.

You weren’t the girl he used to know. You had changed, grown into a bitter woman, hating everyone and everything.

He falls into a dreamless sleep. Waking later to stumble into the bathroom to take a poorly aimed piss in the dark and falling face first into his mattress.

-

You grab the first thing you can think of to extinguish the flames ablaze on the couch. Where the hell is Eddie? What the fuck happened!? Filling a popcorn bowl with water that doubled as a puke bucket when you were sick with the flu back in March, you run back to the couch throwing the water on the flames. For good measure you refill the bucket and douse the couch again— putting the flames out, leaving a soaked charred couch that once was a staple in the Wheeler basement for the better half of a decade.

To say you are enraged would be the understatement of the year, possibly the century. You didn’t have much to your name— not anymore, he had made sure of that. But this!? You open all the windows, letting the dewy air of an early summer morning seep through the house, a slight breeze moving the thin curtains.

You weren’t a great physics student but you are almost certain that a couch wouldn’t suddenly combust into flames no matter how old it is. A red plastic lighter on the coffee table confirmed your suspicions.

You don’t waste time trying to wake him up by yelling, you fill the bowl of water immediately and charge into his room. It was as if you put the fire out but the flames were still burning inside of you, you were fucking irate with Eddie. Hate bubbling inside of you as you stomped into his room, water sloshing all over the carpet and onto your socked feet.

He’s laying on his stomach, a loud snore rippling through his body, the last bit of calm before the ice cold water hits his bare back. Soaking his bed in return.

A loud screeching gasp leaves his dry mouth, cottonmouth having his tongue feel like sandpaper on a sidewalk.

He turns over to face you, annoyed and confused at what the hell was going on.

“Y’know,” he says, standing abruptly from his mattress and shivering when the fan oscillates onto his freezing back, “there are more humane ways to wake someone,” he takes a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the smoke and the burnt fibers of the couch, “smells like you burnt breakfast so how may I help you at this ungodly hour?”

“You son of a bitch,” you seethe, “I swear to everything holy and your satan worshiping ass that I’m going to kill you!”

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, “ooh baby, are we role playing right now? Shit I’m not prepared, gimme a minute.” He stuffs his hand into the front of his boxers making a jerking motion.

“Jesus Christ! I didn’t come in here to fuck you! Have you seen the living room?!”

“So hostile in the morning—“ he says rubbing his eyes, letting a yawn escape his slack mouth, “why what the fuck are you accusing me of now? I cleaned up my mess so if we’re not fuckin’ I’m going back to b— “ you drag him by the arm to the living room. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe properly through the lingering smoke.

His eyes land on the charred mass of the couch. Panic settled on his face for a brief moment before he discarded it for humor. “Damn Tooty, if you wanted a new couch you could have just asked,” he says, letting out a yawn, and stretching his arms out.

He cringes at the way his full name falls from your lips. The spinning rage of fury throwing yourself into a hissy fit.

“I can’t fucking believe you! How goddamn high were you to not realize the couch was on fire before you passed out?”

“Oh fucking relax, it was an accident!”

“Accident? Spilling milk on the counter is an accident. Knocking over the shampoo bottles in the shower is an accident. This.” You say seconds away from full on losing your mind, “is arson, destruction of personal property, a credible offen—“

“Credible offense? Didn’t know you joined the police force, officer Tooty..”

“Eddie!”

“… you probably have those swat grade handcuffs, the ones that won’t break when your wrists are bound to my bedpost, shit I’m hard just thinking about it.”

It takes everything in you not to look down, not to see the way he’s swelled up in his boxer briefs. Not to see the stretch of the fabric or the outline of his length.

You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands down your face. “God you are so fucking infuriating! You really moved in here and just thought you could do whatever the fuck you wanted because you’re Eddie the freak Munson huh? Twenty-six and still pretending that rules and doing shit in a normal way don’t apply to you.”

You think back to how he was in high school, ranting and raving on the cafeteria tables or giving a presentation about how Dungeons and Dragons was in fact not a cult when the assignment was supposed to be on the Holocaust.

He did whatever the fuck he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted to do it. He didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. Never did, never would.

“I fucking hate you,” you spit, “you’re a filthy bastard and I hope you rot in hell.”

He’s heard it all before, so it’s not a surprise when your words turn sour, trying to break him down. But he won’t stand for it.

“Oh baby,” he tuts, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, “you think you’re the only person to ever hate me?”

He crosses his arms and leans forward, inching towards your face, “if you wanna compete with the big dogs, you better get in line. Heard they sell tickets at the high school for the ‘we hate Eddie Munson fan club’.”

He chuckles at the idea of the whole town hating him, small minded inbred losers, clutching to their cross necklaces whenever he walked past them.

“Probably more fans there than Corroded Coffin has right?” You provoke, eyes raised and a smirk twisting your lips.

“That attitude of yours…” his words are lost when he looks at your lips, he shakes his head and sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes scan over your body. Tiny little tank top with one of the straps hanging off your shoulder. Your baby blue pajama pants low on your hips, no panty line suggesting you’re commando under them, “Fuck.” He breathes mostly to himself.

“Listen, I’ll replace the couch, but you seriously need to get a fucking grip and relax, you’re gonna have a brain aneurism if you keep this shit up.”

Only Eddie could turn a disaster of almost starting your house on fire to a joke about you being crazy and him getting horny in return. It had to be a talent to be so aloof from reality. So unphased by shit happening around him. Just placing a bandaid on things hoping they would work out.

But for you, it never came that easy.

-

You decide the only reasonable thing to do was to move the couch to the garage and try to rid the house of the lingering smoke smell. Thankfully the carpet and the coffee table were fine, but the couch was obviously a total loss. Eddie was surprisingly strong, maneuvering the couch almost by himself all the way to the garage, with your help of opening the doors. The way his muscles worked in his back as he lifted the couch and pulled it through the threshold made your stomach flutter. And you were pissed at the thought of it.

“Get some sleep,” Eddie ordered, after you got back into the house, yawning loudly and rubbing your eyes, “we can figure this shit out later.”

Normally you would have argued with him about not telling you what to do but you were exhausted. You climb back into your bed, and fall asleep quick. Dreaming of your entire house on fire and Eddie standing outside, pissing on the flames.

-

“What about this one?” Eddie asks, laying on a large brown sofa, sinking into the cushions like he’s submerged into quicksand.

He woke up around 9 AM, barging into your room, blaring Judas Priest and singing Love Bites at the top of his lungs. Scaring the absolute shit out of you and having you reach for the nailed bat Steve had given you after Nancy had moved out.

“Let’s roll butthole,” Eddie laughed as he sat on your bed, munching on a piece of toast, “ooh, and maybe skip the bra like you did this morning, that was so fucking hot.”

Jesus Christ.

“Get out,” you hiss, covering your chest with your blanket.

Eddie stands up and jumps on your bed pouting, “seriously you’re so boring, let them titties out and come jump with me.”

“I swear you get more immature by the minute. Now get the fuck out before you break my bed.”

“You wish I’d break your bed, oh my god!” He stops jumping immediately, “Tooty! Am I the first guy to be in here?”

You get up immediately, wrapping your throw blanket around you and grabbing Eddie by his foot trying like hell to yank him off your bed.

“Ow, stop you’re hurting me,” he jokes in a mocking, deadpan voice.

You’re slapping him anywhere you can reach him, throwing your pillows at his head, anything to get the perv out from your sheets. He’s laughing rolling around on your bed, moaning your name loudly.

“Eddie Munson I swear, I’ll slash the tires on that shit box van of yours out there if you don’t get out of my room!”

“Oooh, felony charges? Goddamn you’re gonna make daddy cum.”

You grab your clothes from the closet and retreat to the bathroom. Huffing and stomping the whole way, slamming your door so hard the windows in your room rattle.

-

You’ve been looking around the Big Boy’s furniture mart for at least three hours. Eddie insisted on trying every single couch they had. And you weren’t talking about just laying on them or testing their firmness.

“Hey, can you lay down and I’ll get on top so I can see how it feels? I need to make sure I can reach the right angles if ya catch my drift,” he says with a shit eating grin and a wink. “Or better yet, I’ll sit and you get on top, gotta make sure the ladies knees are comfy too ya know?”

You swat at his arms, “you’re such a fucking pig, Munson.”

“With a fat—“ interrupted by the sales clerk asking if everything was okay, you smile awkwardly and sit down next to Eddie, testing the enormous brown couch, “wallet.” He finishes, a smile on his lips as you roll your eyes.

“This one is good, c’mon sit down and try it out.” He purrs, wiggling his eyebrows.

You’re standing beside him clutching your purse, his long legs are bent at the knee and spread out wide. Arms on the back of the couch, claiming his space, spread like a king.

“No,” you complain, “If you like it, get it, I’m tired and I just want to go home.”

“Why? The Virgin Mary got a big date or something?” he says, with a mean laugh.

He’s such an asshole. If you weren’t playing his little games he’d turn into such a fucker.

“Jealous?” you say, invading his space, voice dipped low, tracing circles on his denim knees.

His breath hitches in his chest at your light touch, but you don’t stop there. Sauntering up to the sales counter you work your magic.

With a little flirting and the perfect placement of your arm under your heaving chest while leaning over the counter, chewing on your pen and running it down your neck and into the slit of the one too many unbuttoned buttons on your blouse with the dorky sales manager sporting a receding comb over, you get free same day delivery, even on a Sunday.

Impressed, and shocked Eddie asks, “Now how did you manage that one Tooty?” he asks his head dipped by your ear as you walk towards the door, “thought you were the head nun at Saint No Fun.”

You lick your lips, laying the charm on thick, “Think you’re the only one who can flirt and make someone uncomfortable?” You ask, looking up at him and batting your lashes.

Wrong.

That was the wrong thing to say to him. And you walked right into it.

A smug smile spreads against his lips, accompanied with lowered eyebrows and a deep groan to his voice, intruding on your personal space, “so you admit that I make you uncomfortable?”

Your cheeks heat and you slither away from him, buttoning your shirt higher and mumbling about how disgusting he is while walking fast out of the store and making your way to Eddie’s van, your sandals clicking on the asphalt.

Walking through the door to outside feeling the sun beat down on his curly mess of hair, he can’t help but laugh at you storming away.

“Don’t run from your feelings, sweetheart,” Eddie calls from the parking lot, “I’m a give— oh relax bitch I’m not talking to you!” He yells to a woman ushering her two children inside the store as she glares back at him, frightened when he places the infamous devil horns on his head and flicks his sinful tongue out.

He climbs back into the van, laughing maniacally and blaring Metallica’s Wherever I May Roam. He looks over and sees you shrunken down in the seats, covering your head with your arms trying to make yourself as small as possible. Avoiding being seen with him with all your might.

“At some point in time princess, you’re gonna have to give up this facade that you’re some high and mighty broad.”

“I don’t think that—“ you say sitting up right and forcing the heat from your cheeks, “I just don’t want to be seen with you in public anymore than I have too, plus I really think seeing you humping the furniture burned a hole in my brain.”

“It was quite a sight wasn’t it, wait until you experience it first hand— you’ll have to go to church begging for forgiveness.” he finished with a whisper.

You roll your eyes, disgusted with his constant perverted mind spewing sexual comments.

“Do you ever, just— I don’t know, have a normal conversation that isn’t based around your penis and all the things you’d fuck if given the opportunity?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, turning down his music, “When did you get so boring? I swore you were never like this when I knew you. Eyeball’s little sister. Thee Tooty. Meanest girl in her grade. Stealing cigarettes from the gas station. Sneaking out at night to catch a ride with the freak to the nearest party, you were cool back then. Now you’ve joined the fucking convent in virgin town capital of Lame-ville, USA.”

You had forgotten about Kev’s nickname, Eyeball. Eddie had made it up after he had gotten a fishing hook through his eyelid back in their sophomore year. Eddie was at your house almost all the time, him and your brother were as thick as thieves, and sometimes they were just that. He always invited you along, telling Kev it was alright. After he had graduated in ‘85 and Eddie stayed behind, Eddie became your outlet, bringing you and his hellfire idiots, your own classmates, to parties because you didn’t have a car. Swearing to Reefer Rick, that you little goons were cool. ‘Specially Tooty’ he’d say, announcing that you were Eyeball’s sister with a toothy grin.

Seems like such a long time ago that you were all just stupid kids, living for the weekend and a shared bottle of strawberry hill Boones Farm on the way to a party, now half of you were in serious relationships, or college. But you were still here in Hawkins, cutting the hair of the rich while you could barely balance your mortgage and utilities.

People like you and Eddie never got out of small towns. Live, breathe, die.

The end.

No happy endings.

“I’m not a nun, you inconsiderate prick,” you yell at him, “I just don’t think fart jokes, or shitting with the door open and belching contests are funny.”

Eddie pulls his eyebrows together annoyance splattered on his face, “yeah, I’m pretty inconsiderate, just dropped hundreds of dollars to get princess Tooty a new couch, how fucking dare I?”

“You’re the one that burned the other one down!” You holler back at him, losing any shred of self-control you have left, “ I wouldn’t have asked you to do that and you’re the one who volunteered to buy it in the first place!”

“Well, you didn’t really give me a choice standing there with those sad fucking eyes acting like I just fucked your sister and shot your parents in the face.” He sneers back, nostrils flared, driving like a bat out of hell through Hawkins.

You’re pouting, crossing your arms and huffing loudly as he continues.

“I swear to God there’s not a single fucking thing that I can do right for you Tooty,” he snaps, knuckles tight against the steering wheel. “It doesn’t matter what it is what I will, or won’t do you just have it in your head that I’m the worst fucking person in the world.”

You sit there stunned, face crumbled into anger as you stew pissed off beyond belief at his bullshit remarks. He pulls into the driveway, stomping on the brakes and having you lurch forward as he throws the van in park.

He turns to face you. A ringed finger pointing in your face as he gets closer.

“Like I said earlier, sweetheart, you want to hate me? Get in fuckin’ line, this whole goddamn town hates me and I don’t give a fat rat’s ass what anybody thinks of me, especially a stuck up brat like you.”

You’re both breathing heavy, the tension between you both thicker than oatmeal. You can feel his breath on your face, your cheeks are heated and his are tinged pink. His eyes dip down to your lips for a split second before he shakes his head. He jumps out slamming the door hard with a loud thud, stomping his way through the garage.

-

You mull over your emotions, here you were again, but this time you got the best of him.

Eddie: 1

Tooty: 1

In all the years of knowing Eddie, you’ve never seen him that pissed off. Sure he got worked up about stupid society norms in school but this was different. He was pissed, yelling in your face in the van.

You were never afraid of him, the whole town might be but you had no reason to be. Not from a guy with split ends and in serious need of a deep conditioner. He was just as stubborn as you were. Refusing to bend.

-

The couch was delivered in record time, your tits really putting the delivery boys to the test when they said you were their only delivery for the day, marked mandatory.

When Eddie arrived from the doorway of his bedroom, arms above his head hanging onto the frame, a cigarette hung between his lips, he was still mad but truly astonished at their arrival only twenty minutes after you had gotten home.

He flops on the couch as soon as they leave, the delivery idiots still drooling over you working up the courage to ask for your number until Eddie made a sadistic comment about getting the cat out of the freezer for the ritual sacrifice had them running back out to the truck, whispering Hail Mary’s and making the sign of the cross as they ran.

“Fuck,” he exhales, kicking off his boots and putting his stinky socks on one arm, his head on the other unzipping his jeans, and slotting a ringed hand down the front of them, Al Bundy style, “can’t wait to break this thing in, need’ta christen the whole house yet too.”

Oh for fucks sake.

“Were you this nasty while you lived with your uncle?”

He closes his eyes as he answers you, snuggling his head and hips into the cushions, a leg thrown up on the back. “He works nights, but my neighbors knew that when the trailer was rockin’, don’t come knockin’.”

You scoff, “I just have a hard time believing that anyone would willingly want to fuck you.”

“Well believe it baby, they don’t just call me ‘the freak’ because I’m into metal and have long hair,” he says, opening his eyes for your reaction as he grabs his dick through his jeans at the base and wiggles the length around.

Your stomach burns as you walk away, half disgusted at him for being so crude, and more disgusted with yourself for looking.

-

The only way you can combat the lingering heat of turmoil in your stomach is by keeping your hands and your mind busy. You change your clothes into some cotton pajama shorts, the old ratty Garfield slippers you’ve had since the 8th grade, and a baggy shirt with the Marlboro logo on the breast pocket and printed fully on the back. You start with baking a loaf of banana bread, the same recipe Karen Wheeler passed down to Nancy, and Nancy passed down to you.

You begin to whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. A sense of calm takes over your body as you remember the days of having Nancy as a roommate. A vast difference to the hellion who’s snoring on the couch right now. Your mind wanders, questioning why the tension between the two of you in the van could have been cut with a knife.

You despised him, the thought of him making your stomach churn like curdled milk. He was skating on thin ice and if you were stronger, you’d have kicked his ass out by now. But Eddie was right about a few things. After Kev left for college it was just you at home, but Eddie stayed around. Watching out for you at parties, threatening to kick anyone’s ass who got too close to you.

You mash the bananas and set them aside, using the handheld mixer you had been gifted to beat together the butter and brown sugar. The light pales of yellow swirling with the chestnut granules of the brown sugar.

You remembered how he was dating Chrissy during his senior year. How Chrissy, yourself, Eddie and Chad would go bowling on Sundays after brunch at the Cunningham’s or how sometimes Chrissy would drive the three of you to go to Eddie’s shows at the hideout, sweet talking her way to the owner so you could all support him. How messed up he had been after she broke up with him. To this day you don't know the reason. You wondered if he knew what happened between you and Chad.

You add the dry ingredients to the wet ones. Adding the eggs one at a time, the soft plump yolks slipping free from the shells and landing gently on the forming mixture.

So many things had gone unsaid. Different aspects of life taking you both in opposite directions but now suddenly back again, but under very diverse circumstances.

The banana bread mixture is scraped into a loaf pan, and tossed into the oven, the timer set to sixty minutes.

You had to admit that having Eddie around gave you a small inkling of comfort. Almost as if you weren’t alone. Something you hadn’t felt in years.

You really must be crazy. Eddie Munson giving you comfort? What kind of dream land were you living in. Clearly the banana bread hasn’t given you any sort of calm, better make muffins next.

-

Later that night you’re lining pasta noodles in a baking dish, layering them with ground beef sautéed with an onion and pasta sauce, and ricotta, mozzarella and Parmesan cheese. The small kitchen smelling delicious, and the counters full of chocolate chip muffins and the banana bread you had made.

Turns out there’s a lot you can get done in the 5 hours Eddie has been passed out on the couch. Turtle waxing the bathroom floors, scrubbing the baseboards in the living room, reorganizing the fridge and wiping everything down.

He’s still sprawled out on the new couch, his long hair wrapped around his face, soft snores whirling through his nose.

Another hour later and supper is done, you’re standing at the stove cutting short horizontal lines through the lasagna opposite of the way the noodles are laid, when Eddie comes up behind you, warm crumbles of muffin between his lips as he whispers, “shit Tooty, did’ya take home-ec? This is delicious.” You jump almost ten feet high, shrieking and cutting a horrible diagonal line through the lasagna.

“.. I failed ya know.”

“High school?” You answer after catching your breath, “Eddie, everyone in the Tri state area knows that.”

“Nah,” he mumbles through another bite, more crumbs falling from his mouth, “well I mean yeah, but home-ec. That’s why I didn’t graduate on time.”

You soon around with an incredulous look on your face, “how the fuck do you fail home-ec not once, but twice?”

He leans his long frame against the counter, hip jutting up against it as he crosses his legs at his ankles, you note that his pants are still undone.

“Well chef,” Eddie starts, licking his fingers clean from the ooey chocolate that melted onto them, “I kept burning everything. I couldn’t even get the eggs to boil right. I burnt the sleeve of Jason Carver’s letterman jacket while trying to make crème brûlée,” He says with a laugh. “That might have been on purpose, after he stiffed me for over 3 oz and two full bags of pre rolls.”

You chuckle, “not a loss there, that douche probably deserved it.”

Jason Carver would remain in Hawkins to run his dad’s business. Last time you had seen him he was at the salon, flirting with you while you trimmed his hair. Still a douche.

“Ah, he was just mad I stole his girlfriend,” he says with a little sigh, referring to Chrissy, “High school, what a blast!”

“All six years?” You ask with a raised eyebrow, your teeth biting down hard into your lower lip to hide your laugh.

Pushing himself off the counter and stealing another muffin he leaves the kitchen with a grin and yells over his shoulder, “piss off.”

-

Eddie’s on his third plate of “flat noodle pasta thing” or to anyone living on the planet for more than three years would call it, lasagna, and your homemade garlic bread chewed up between his teeth.

“Christ,” he exaggerates with a sigh, “I feel like this is my last meal on death row or some shit.” He smacks his lips and licks his fingers like a primate. Moaning with each swipe of his tongue like a porn star with a huge bush in the 70’s.

“Did you just compliment me on something other than my body or insinuating that you want to fuck me?” You say with a false shock, “I’m honored.”

“Yup, write it down in your little diary, ‘Eddie Munson said something genuine to me, made me feel pretty, maybe I will stop being mean and let him see my titties xoxo’.”

“…and we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming.” You announce in a monotone voice, pushing your lasagna around with your fork and taking a bite of the garlic bread.

Eddie turns his head and looks over at you confused on how this nice little night— not arguing, for once, eating the best thing he’s had in his mouth bedsides the pussy that was in it last weekend, could turn into you silently stewing, mulling something over that he had zero idea on how to understand.

“So— what ever happened to Eyeball anyway? Should I go ahead and assume he’s buried in a shallow grave somewhere?” Eddie asks, taking another mouthful of lasagna, “seriously, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he graduated and left this shithole town.”

You take a deep breath and let out a sigh, you couldn’t hide this from him, not when he’s here in your house, on the couch he just bought since he burned down the other one.

If you were going to tell him, there was no better time than right now. You take a sip from your Fresca and set your plate down on the coffee table.

“Kev went to the east coast. Full academic scholarship to John Hopkins.” You say curling your knees up to your chin, facing Eddie.

“Yeah, I think he mentioned that— I bet your parents were proud,” Eddie says, eyebrows raised, fingers hanging loosely over his knees, the last remnants of the garlic bread in one hand.

“Of course they were, he’s the golden boy, Mr. Perfect. He could do no wrong in their eyes.”

You weren’t just being a jaded little sister, it was the truth. Your parents favored him over you. Once it was let on that he was smarter than most kids his age, and a certain level of genius— that was it for you, you were casted aside like a wet paper towel, tossed to the heaping flow of garbage. Their whole life revolved around him.

“So what happened?” Eddie pressed, setting his plate down and twisting the rings around his fingers.

“Well, he went to college in August of ‘85 and at first was excelling in all of his classes, as if he were to ever do anything else. If you ask my parents, what happened next was out of character for him, and he was coerced into it, the wrong place at the wrong time kind of a deal, but you know how he was. He had a wild side to him.”

Kev was wild indeed. He was the one who convinced Eddie to borrow Wayne’s truck at thirteen and take it driving through Hawkins on a joyride to the gas station that led to all of the mailboxes in Forest Hills to be backed over and almost a gas pump. A smirk forms on Eddie’s face as you continue.

“I always thought it was his way of escaping— trying to be normal. Anyway— he made friends with some guys who were kinda like the Hellfire guys at home. Ya know nerds, who need haircuts.” A small laugh escapes from your lips.

“Easy, now.” Eddie jokes, shaking his mane, “This takes time and patience, ain’t built for the weak.”

You roll your eyes and keep going, “one of them was involved with dealing but it wasn’t just joints and half ounces like you did in high school. This was crack, and heroin.”

Rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palms, dreading this more than Eddie could ever know. “He started using—heavily. One thing led to another and he was eventually kicked out of school, turns out you actually have to show up to class and get good grades to keep an academic scholarship.”

“My parents tried to get him to move home, go to rehab, but he refused. He moved into a house with some other “friends” if you would even call them that.” You take another shaky breath, voice wobbly as you continue, “w-we aren’t exactly sure what happened— all we know is that he was driving down a one way, going double over the legal speed limit and he struck a woman— in broad daylight, killing her instantly.”

Pain is evident in your face as Eddie stares into your eyes, leaning forward on the couch, the venom of his words from last night and earlier this afternoon twisting like a knife in his chest. “Holy fuck.”

“He had been tripping out on whatever it was he was snorting, or smoking—I have no idea, for days, according to him, and he doesn’t remember anything. The woman was from a very well off family in Maryland— so they went for murder instead of vehicular manslaughter— and won. There were two other people in the car with him… they were both killed on impact. He’s currently known as inmate #90045, serving a life sentence and a sling of other charges in Roxbury Correctional in Hagerstown.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide at the thought of Kev in an orange jumpsuit, face behind bars. The fingers he was spinning his rings with stops, mouth agape.

You pinch your eyes shut and throw your head back, avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “My parents sold the house the following year and moved out there to be closer to the golden son, still to this day refusing he did anything wrong, blaming it all on anyone but him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes, shocked, “I can’t fuckin— wow.”

“Yeah,” you say, bringing your head forward, dipping into your chest. Sniffling quietly and rubbing your nose.

Eddie is dumbfounded by your admission. He thought for sure that maybe Kev was married and had kids so your parents went to help them out to be supportive grandparents. He would have never guessed that he was in prison doing hard time with a heroin addiction. And he certainly can’t believe that they left you here like discarded mail.

“But you stayed in Hawkins? By yourself, this whole time?” he says in disbelief. Outer corners of his eyes turning downward as his face frowns.

He feels like shit, he had been here the whole time in Hawkins and he didn’t have a clue that you were alone.

Shaking your head you answer slowly, shame on your lips. “The Wheeler’s ended up taking me in.”

“Tooty,” Eddie rubs his hand across his face, stubble catching on calluses as he thinks about the times he saw you at school. “Fuck man, why didn’t you say anything? Jesus, why didn’t any of them mention it?”

“I told them that if they told anyone I’d shave their heads,” you say proudly. A sense of pride present across your face, as you hold your head high.

This explains a lot, why you were bitter and downright miserable. He couldn’t believe this shit, how your family just left you, discarding you like you weren’t their only daughter. You were dealt a shitty hand, and all you had left to protect yourself was you. Eddie knew all too well how that felt.

His eyes are full of concern, wet with tears as he realizes how lonely you must have been.

“By the way,” you say, stretching your leg out and nudging him with the toe of your slipper, “that head shaving thing, goes for you too Munson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. ” Eddie said, throwing his hands up in innocence. “I wouldn’t risk losing these curls over that, the ladies love this.”

-

Later that night Eddie laid in bed. Still completely blown away by the fate of his old friend. Not only that but what happened to you as well. When his dad went to prison, he had Wayne but you? You didn’t have anyone. Moving in with the Wheeler’s like you were a charity case, an orphan, with Ted Wheeler being the not bald Daddy Warbucks. He didn’t sleep worth a shit that night. His mind constantly running over the millions of conversations you had up until his graduation— not once did you let on that you weren’t okay.

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HOPE YOU ENJOYED 💋 SEE YOU IN VOL IV

vol iv

[ochomasaio]

Gojo Satoru ex husband

You try to leave Satoru in the past but let's be honest, he is Gojo Satoru, he never stays behind. After some months of searching you, there you are, on the opposite sidewalk.

You were his little sunshine, the pure source of positive energy in his ruthless everyday life. And now you had made him the happiest man in the world again after your positive pregnancy test.

He is Gojo Satoru but he is also a human. He made a big mistake. Drinking and ending up sleeping with another woman. Satoru truly didn't know that the woman wasn't his wife. He wasn't in place to understand that. He called the women by his wife's name all night they spent together.

Morning wasn't late to come and wake up next to that woman. In 1 minute he was already out of the apartment. He never had been ready faster. He runs home and tries to remember last night. Open the door and call for you. Nothing, search every room and again nothing. Calling you? Your phone was closed. His pulse began to rise. Is it possible you found out? So fast. He hadn't realized it yet. Did something else happen?

Ready to leave in search of you his blue eyes fell on a note on the compound by the door. But that wasn't the scary part, your wedding ring. You had placed it on top of the note. He grabbed the note and read it like water.

I believed we had a happy marriage

I had. I wish you all the goods

Y/N

Only that. You haven't written anything else. The baby? Oh! No god wouldn't be scared of him right now. You leave so fast, how the heck was it possible to find out so quickly? Someone must have told you about that. Oh! If he finds him he will't be able to tell even "good morning" without thinking twice, if he lets him talk again.

Now it had been 7 months since the day you left. His life was worse than ever. He had vowed to find you no matter what. He slept little, ate little and worked non-stop. The divorce papers you had sent him months ago from an unknown location were still untouched on his desk. There was no way he would positively sign off on this divorce.

He was sitting in the back seat of the car on his way home from Jujutsu Technical High School, stopped in traffic. Lost in his thoughts watching the cars go by, passers-by coming and going. And there! There you were! He couldn't believe it! You were walking on the sidewalk so close to his house. You were under his nose all this time. Wide eyes, a half-open mouth that almost created a smile. You were walking so beautifully, wind was blowing your hair in the spring breeze. A beautiful spring dress that erased your 7 months pregnant belly.

As quickly as he recognized you, he jumped out and appeared in front of you.

"My love. Y/N I find you!" Satoru said barely held back tears with his huge palms holding your tiny ones. You weren't as happy as him to watch him. Well that was lie. You were as happy as him to watch him again. To touch you. After 7 months in an unknown country he was there. But you don't let your heart fool you. You didn't show him that you missed him.

"What do you mean? You are coming with me. You are my wife!" No you don't. You ask him to leave you alone but his love for you was huge enough to even let you blink without helping you from now on. "You are my wife! Of course I didn't sign the fucking papers!" "I love you! You know it! About that night -" You didn't want to hear that. It doesn't matter anymore! He sleeps with another woman even if he had regret it, you didn't know he was drunk anyway. You thought it could happen again. She wouldn't go back with him. You would go back to your family. Raise the child there. You were crazy to think that Gojo Satoru would you even think to let you do that.

The tension had increased, you had to limit your conversation somewhere else. The small house you were renting was a few steps away. All in all it was a room with a bathroom and besides it was cold. How the hell did you stay there pregnant woman. He turned his gaze a little and saw an electric heater. He had left you to live alone, in your condition, in this cold place. He was trying to contain himself thinking about you trying to warm up to it. What did you eat? "I'm taking your things and we go home, I'm gonna cook-" You had made your decisions. You wouldn't let him break your heart again.

"Baby, come on, your things, your life is back in our house." The only things you left behind were the ones he had bought you himself. As long as you were married, he didn't let you work. He wanted you to live comfortably, he never believed that his money was only his. They were yours.

How could he convince you to stay with him, that it was a mistake. You couldn't take this argument, this pressure anymore. You felt a sudden malaise, holding your stomach with one hand and the other trying to support yourself on him. He tried to help you recover, he wanted to but all he ended up doing was calling your name with you in his arms. You opened your eyes and tried to recover. He would take you to the hospital right now. But you didn't want to, you just needed to get your face wet.

He could not understand how you were so insensitive to your health and that of your child. He refused not to visit the hospital. You just passed out! And oh my god! He also lost his own land under his feet when you looked at him with pain and told him that you had passed out again. In a place like this. Without help. If you didn't wake up? Stop his thoughts of the scenario before imagining your destiny.

Here you go again, in your shared bedroom. You stand up from the bed but before standing in your feet he stops you and puts you back to lay down. As long as you were asleep he ended up calling a doctor and checking you up at home. You accept your loss. You weren't able to leave him behind. But he knows that soon or later you would understand and forgive him but until then here he is protecting you, keeping you warm and full of food 24/7.

[legitalicat]

Too Sweet - Modern!Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

AN: Hello my beautiful people! I hope you enjoy this story. It started as a little love note to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier because I feel it's very Aegon coded. It then became kind of an amalgamation of a few different stories. My own story and journey with alcoholism and recovery played a big part in this, and as I wrote it parts of my feelings about my older brother, who is in active addiction, came into play. Please know that this is not everyone's story. Recovery from addiction looks different for most everyone. I truly overcame my addiction through building community and connections. I know many people who have to work a program to succeed. I know a person who actually did get a degree after a near lifetime of addiction and now he does a lot of things to help our local community in treating addiction. So really, this is a love letter to people like me and my brother. There is hope and I believe in every one of you.

Link to the TED Talk mentioned.

TW: blatant talks of alcoholism and substance abuse, talks of rehab, family issues, abusive family subtext yet never explicitly stated, gonna say it's kinda angsty, FLUFF

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

Word count: almost 3k

The soft pads of her feet made barely any noise as she walked into his bedroom, carrying a mug in each hand and wearing nothing but his MCR tee-shirt. Technically, they should both be in a deep sleep by now. It was fast approaching four in the morning and neither of them had bothered to close their eyes once. It was all he could to not hold her close in bed and stare at her captivating beauty.

When Aegon first saw her, weeks ago, he was stunned. It was the first time he had gone to the new bar right down the road from his apartment and it just so happened it was karaoke night. He had been tempted to turn around when he heard a horrendous rendition of his favorite Hozier song. But then she took the mic from her drunken friend, and it was as if the heavens parted and the gods showed him the future Mrs. Aegon Targaryen.

“Your coffee, sir,” she said to him as she handed him a mug. “No worries, it’s as black as your soul,” she added with a teasing grin.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said as he took the mug from her.

She was truly a lesson in divinity for him. Aegon didn’t truly believe she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. There would be people who would think she was average looks, maybe even less than that, but he didn’t need her to be more beautiful than anyone else. He wanted her exactly as she was. Beautiful like a spring day, teeming with beauty in the most natural of ways. Like one would think of a cherry blossom tree, or their favorite flower. Simple and breathtaking, a reminder of life and truth on a fundamental level.

He knew it the moment they locked eyes in that bar. Her voice shook from nerves as she sang in front of the crowd of strangers. When she looked at him, and he at her, he felt joyful for the first time in years. All of the stupid shit with his family, the years of drowning his sorrows in whiskey and wine and any other drug, none of it mattered.

If he were honest, he couldn’t remember how he got so lucky. He knew he approached her once she was done singing and complimented her. By the end of the night she was nestled beside him in bed, and he’d be damned if he ever let her leave.

“Gods, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he watched her. He knew she was drinking hot chocolate, finding the taste of coffee much too bitter.

“What was that?” she asked him when she pulled the mug away from her face. She had a bit of whipped cream on her upper lip, making his heart feel like it was on the brim of exploding.

He leaned forward, just barely, and lifted his hand to wipe the cream away with his thumb. She gave him a cute little smile when it brushed against her lips, puckering them to press a kiss to his skin. When he pulled his hand away and sucked the cream off, he heard her giggle.

“This is why you’re so sweet. Where most people drink whiskey and coffee, you put sugar in your sugar and drink it until the sun comes up,” he told her. Of course, he was teasing her.

“Because unlike you, Mr. Listen to Sad Music Even When I’m Happy, I like to enjoy things. The good things. The sweet things, like whipped cream and hot chocolate and fruit loops in bed on Saturday mornings. I just think I live a better life than you,” she told him. She was grinning from ear to ear.

If Aegon wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would tell her how he loved her. He loved that she wanted to eat sweets at all times. He loved that she teased him for listening to My Chemical Romance or Asking Alexandria, calling it all sad music, even when she would listen right alongside him. He loved that she would start crying at the Wonka movie near the end, unashamed about feeling overwhelmed by the backstory.

If he weren’t so afraid she didn’t love him, he would tell her. He knew it had only been a few weeks, that all logic points to love at first sight being nothing more than him just getting turned on by her appearance. But how could he not love her when she sat in bed with him like this after making him a cup of coffee before the sun had even risen? How could one resist the gentleness of her touch when they watched TV together and she insisted on holding his hand? How could he be expected to watch her hyper fixate on a book or a video game, talking about it for hours on end with so much passion she always ended up wound up and breathless?

“You’re too sweet for me,” he told her as he laid back against the head board. He gently pulled her into his side, wanting to have her as close as humanly possible.

His words were met with an amused chuckle. She didn’t fight his hold on her, instead melting into him as though it was where she had always been.

“Tell me about your family,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’ve not been further than ten feet from you for weeks and you haven’t said the first word about them.”

He could feel his jaw clench as she asked him. His family was a complicated and sensitive subject. Even though he wished he never had to speak to her about them, he knew he had to if he had any hopes of them becoming more than just a passion fueled fling.

“Not much to really say. Dad ran Draconic Industries. My older sister, Rhaenyra, is my dad’s daughter with his first wife. He made her next in line to take over the business. Me, my younger siblings, even my mom, we never really mattered much to dear old dad. He died when I was nineteen. I don’t really matter much to any of the rest of them,” he told her, tracing shapes on her bare thigh as he spoke.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said quickly.

“It is,” he told her without any uncertainty. “Helaena, my younger sister, hasn’t spoken to me in a few years either. I haven’t spoke to my youngest brother Daeron since we were kids. And my brother Aemond…he was the last to hold out hope for me and I burned that to the ground a long time ago. I think it’s been at least a year. My mom completely disowned me about four years ago, when I was around twenty-two, cause I refused to go to rehab again.”

She frowned softly but said nothing. He could only imagine what was going through her head at this point. If roles were reversed, he would probably be planning his exit strategy. All it felt like he told her was a sob story about a poor rich kid who can’t live off mommy and daddy anymore. He felt pathetic.

“What did you go to rehab for?” she asked him.

“Started partying when I was like twelve. Alcoholic by age fourteen. Lead to worse shit, as it does, and I overdosed when I was eighteen on some coke. My mom and grandfather checked me into rehab the following week. Have done two more stints since. Never really stuck, and I haven’t been sober for more than a few days since I was like fifteen.”

He was laying in all our there for her. He wanted her to know so she could decide if she thought he was worth the trouble. He couldn’t blame her if she ran away from him. Why would she stick around? All of his family had washed their hands of him and they were family. She was just someone he met in a bar a few weeks before.

She stayed quiet for a long time. Longer than he would’ve liked. The silence weighed on his heart like an elephant pressing against his chest. He wanted to beg her to say something, anything, just so he knew where her head was at.

Though, he noticed, she didn’t move away from him. She stayed right there, comfortable tucked into his side, occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. His own mug, still filled with coffee, had gone near forgotten in his hand. He was too focused on her.

“You know, the opposite of addiction is connection. Watched a TED Talk one time about it. They found when addicts are treated like people instead of criminals, integrating them into society instead of isolating them, they show less of a struggle with addictions. Allow their basic needs to be met, give them a community, and they thrive,” she said softly after several moments.

She sat up, her warmth leaving him. He felt lonely without her touching him even though she was still well within arm’s reach. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

“I’m not saying I can fix you. I’m not saying the cure to all your problems is me giving my heart to you. I am, however, telling you that I haven’t once seen you drunk or high or anything and we basically haven’t been apart in weeks. If you want to develop healthy connections, create a community, be a person, I am more than willing to be part of it,” she said.

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest. He knew she was right. Since being with her, he hadn’t really felt the need for anything. He had physical cravings, sure, but no mental desire. Aegon didn’t want a moment with her to be a hazy memory that he may be able to recall when he's older.

“Why?” he asked her.

“Because I love you,” she said.

The weeks and months following that night, Aegon really put in the work. Y/N had made it clear to him that she was not going to just give him everything. If he wanted this, it was on him. She was only helping him.

Together, they had found a group therapy program for him. It was ran by a man who had gotten his psychology degree a few years before, but had struggled with addiction for most of his life. That was the first step, a step Aegon felt proud he had taken once he realized he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The next step, he decided on by himself. The group program was all well and good, but he felt a need to find a deeper explanation into himself. Once a week he found himself sitting in a therapist’s office, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They spoke about his family, his self imposed isolation from them and how that lead to them cutting off, his hopes and dreams for the future.

Through this, he found out about opportunities for volunteer work in the community. He realized he quite liked working at the local secondhand store that helped people in need. He even brought her with him on the Saturdays he worked a shift, turning it into something they enjoyed together.

Even at work, he began reaching out more. If the opposite of addiction was connection, then by the gods he was going to make connections. His coworkers were enough to give him a good laugh. All of them were extremely proud of the progress he made, always encouraging him. He found that little bit alone made it easier for him to be more himself. In the conversations he was able to have with his coworkers, he talked about shows, movies, and music he liked and became friends with a few of them.

It was with this progress, along with the support Y/N provided, that Aegon found himself at the door of his family’s estate. He hadn’t been here in years. He knew all of his younger siblings still lived here. Helaena’s bright yellow VW Beetle sat parked in the driveway, Aemond’s motorcycle probably laid in parts in the garage, and Daeron had always been more content taking a town car than actually driving himself anywhere.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Y/N told him as she held his hand tightly. He had asked her to come with him so she could at least meet them. They needed to see how he had changed.

“I do have to. If for no other reason than to show them I’m not who they remember me to be,” he told her.

“Did you talk to Dr. Wilson about this? I mean, I just, I don’t want you to,” she said, trying desperately to find the right words. He silenced her with a kiss to her forehead.

“And I love you for it,” he said to her, holding her hand as tightly as she held his. “I’m okay with whatever happens in there.”

He knocked hard on the door. It wasn’t long before his mother answered. The ever looming presence of Alicent Hightower, never Targaryen, filled the entire space of the door frame. Her auburn curls were tied neatly back into a bun, her brown eyes widened in surprise.

The woman before him, despite being in her forties, showed no true signs of aging. There were no gray hairs scattered around her head, no fine lines or wrinkles. The only indication of a less than flawless appearance were the almost invisible lines that came from the outer corners of her eyes, put there by the fact that just like Aegon, her eyes would always squint up whenever she smiled.

“Aegon,” she said quietly. She looked at him like she saw a ghost.

“Hi, mom. Can we come in?” he asked her, biting his lip. Y/N gave his hand a small squeeze as if to remind him she was with him. He had her support every step of the way.

Alicent nodded silently and stepped to the side, allowing them entrance. The house was the same as the last time he was here. All of the old family photos hung on the walls of the hallway to the living room. The air smelled of cedar wood and spiced apples, giving it the perpetual scent of fall. It was warm and inviting, the plush couch so comfortable beneath him it was almost indicative of how much money his mother spent on it.

In a lot of ways, the house felt like his family. It was the epitome of warmth and love on first glance. When you looked closer, you could see how some of the picture frames were void of glass, having been broken in one family argument or another. There was a coat the hung on the same rack, day in and day out, hiding the hole where his head went through the wall in a drunken stupor. The paint on the walls were beginning to chip away, revealing the yellowing walls that proved how much his dad had liked to smoke. It was haunted, irreversibly scarred by the past.

A maid came around and asked the three of them if they wanted a drink. Alicent requested a glass of wine. Aegon noticed how surprised she looked when he just asked for a soda, like Y/N was having. He also noticed how she kept looking at his hand that held Y/N’s.

“And who is this?” She asked, nodding her head to Y/N.

“This is the woman I’m going to marry, Y/N,” he said confidently.

They hadn’t spoken about it, there wasn’t a ring on her finger. But he had no doubt in his mind that he would marry her. He was certain that she was who he was made for. The gods had her in mind when they designed him, knowing how much he would love her. She truly was his soulmate.

“And so you came to show her how terrible we all are?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. “Or did you come for money? Because you’re not getting a dime.”

“Neither,” he said firmly. “I just wanted you to see me, mom. I wanted to see you.”

She was surprised at his words. The last time he had spoken to her, he had been begging for money. Crying, begging. When she refused, trying to help him in the best way she knew how, he screamed at her about all of her faults. The last words he spoke to her was how he could only hope that he had the courage to kill himself before he turned into her.

“I’m sorry for…for everything,” he told her. “It wasn’t fair of me to blame everything on you.” Y/N squeezed his hand again. He looked down at their hands and he knew he was okay. He would be okay. “I’m like, eight months sober from everything. Not a drop of booze, no drugs. I have a full time job, I volunteer on the weekends at a secondhand store. I’m doing good, mom.”

Tears flooded to her eyes as she looked at him. Her oldest son, the first person she ever truly loved in a selfless manner. She had thought he was completely lost to her. The vicious creature he had been when they last saw each other had melted away entirely.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked him. He could only wordlessly nod, allowing her the time to stand from her chair and walk over to him. She hugged him tighter than she ever had.

He looked over Alicent’s shoulder at Y/N. The woman he loved was watching him with tears of her own, a smile on his face. She was good, too good, for him. She had opened his eyes to a reality he had been scared to face. But she had never once made him face it alone.

And that made all the difference.

[thewriterwhowritesnot]

To Have and To Hold

Warnings: Yandere!Aliucard, SMUT, creampie (wrap it before you tap it my dudes this is FICTION! Kids cost money), slight degradation, a little bit of fluff. A/N: Yall, please don't judge me. I had a hell of a rough time writing this out because I had to take a break every three minutes to BREATHE lol. I hope the smut is okay. I'm not ready to be that explicit just yet. I hope y'all like this. This is another 2k words and is not proofread. If you want to be in the taglist just lmk! Summary: You travel to Dracula's Castle to help the owner get the place registered as a historical landmark and enter into an overwhelming relationship with Alucard.

Masterlist Chap 1.

Chapter Two

 The next morning you awake to an old chest half your size in the middle of your room. On top of it, there’s a note.         “ I was informed this morning that your bag was lost in transit and they’re unable to locate it. I took the liberty of getting you some clothes to wear while you’re here. I hope they fit you and if they don’t we can make adjustments. 

A. “

A bit bummed at the loss of your clothes, you open the chest and immediately forget about what small things you packed in your bag. The first piece of clothing was a soft pink sundress with white flowers on it. The Queen Anne neckline was lined with white lace and you loved it instantly. Setting it aside to wear it for the day. There were multiple sets of silk pajamas. Pretty nightgowns and fluffy slippers and beautiful shoes (that were all your size). You giggled like a child in the long mirror against the wall, swaying this way and that. 

Granted, in your job description you wore clothes that kept your skin safe from poisonous spiders, cobwebs, and splinters. But the knowledge that Adrian had picked these out to lend you made butterflies spring to life in your belly and you couldn’t resist thinking of what he’d think of you in them. 

Deciding to bathe before you start your day, you enter the bathroom and examine the large tub and new shower head. The place was spotless and smelled of lemon. You turned on the faucet and allowed the hot water of the shower to steam up the room before getting in. Being too tired to shower the night before you basked in the warmth of the hot water washing the days of travel off your skin. 

However, your peace was short-lived because a rush of cold air cut across your skin beckoning a wave of gooseflesh. There were no vents or holes near the shower so you shut the water off and peered out of the shower curtain. The bathroom door was open and you struggled to remember if you’d closed it or not. Surely, you would’ve closed it to keep the heat in, right? 

         Stepping out of the shower you wrap yourself in a towel and enter the room to find nothing amiss. 

Strange. 

You searched the chest for the round container of lotion you’d spotted when you were rummaging through it earlier. After getting dressed, you leave your room, notepad in hand, and find your way to the kitchen. 

Marguerite is there and quickly introduces herself and offers you a full breakfast. Shamefully, you find yourself very pleased with the fact that she’s an older woman. Much too old to be romantically involved with your host. Her grey hair is pulled back into one bun, pulled away from her round face which is free of wrinkles. Her eyes are almost catlike which would appear almost frightening if not for their warm disposition and the childish curve of her features. She looks incredibly young and old at the same time. You watch as she pours you both a cup of tea and puts exactly four sugars into your tea. 

“How is your room?” Her voice is warm much like her eyes. Hoping she hadn’t noticed your staring, you mix your oatmeal in an innocuous figure eight. “It’s lovely. Everything is perfect and the bed is quite comfortable.” 

Marguerite hums with approval. “Wonderful. I put everything to right myself. The little prince would have nothing less.” Baffled, you turn to face her. 

“Little prince?” 

Marguerite’s warm eyes all but twinkle in the morning light. She sips her tea once before getting to her feet. “I’ve got some small tasks to finish before the morning ends. Once you’re done eating, you may leave your dishes in the sink. I’ll tend to them.” She doesn’t wait for your answer before she leaves, cup in hand.

Curious but too excited to think about it for too long you hastily finish your breakfast. Now, you have a system. Always begin at the first room you entered when you’re exploring a new place. It’s crucial to start in a familiar place so that each new discovery is easier to document and keep track of. Following this system leads you to head to the foyer. The room looked much the same as it had when you’d first arrived except for the streams of light that were pouring in from all directions. You’d missed the windows behind the humongous curtains that covered them the night before. Some of the windows were stained glass and you took a moment to examine them.

Each picture showed a man with dark hair in battle, covered in the blood of his enemies, and returning to the gothic castle you now stood in. 

“A bit grotesque, is it not?”         You jump and whirl around to find Adrian standing behind you much as he had the first time you met. “Have mercy! You’ve got to stop doing that!” His eyebrows draw together as he laughs lightly. Today his hair is in a messy braid down his back. The button-down white shirt he wears is tucked into the sleek black pants that sway over his sandy brown boots. “My apologies, my dear. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” His eyes travel from your face down your body and back up again causing those butterflies to flutter up to your heart. Fingers knotted in the dress you wore, your eyes scanned the room nervously. “Thank you for the clothes and the other things. They’re beautiful.” 

“I’m glad you like them. Does everything fit well?”         “Scarily well,” you joke. “I would’ve thought these clothes had been made for me with how perfectly they fit.” His jaw tensed slightly. Confused once again, you opt to examine the stained glass. You hear him inhale slowly.

“I’m told there’s a book in the library that describes the stories in these windows. Would you like to help me search for it?” 

The doors of the library are large. Just as large as the front doors. He pushes them open with ease and leads you into a room full of one of the largest collections of books you’ve ever seen. There are books on every surface. Lining the walls and stacked spaces all over the tables and desks. It was overwhelmingly massive and you took it all in wonder.         “The place is a mess and I haven’t hired anyone to help me organize it all just yet. It’s such a large collection.” 

“Can I help?” The words come out louder than you expect and you can’t see the smile on his lips as he pulls open the heavy curtains of the room. “If it’s not too much for you. I know you’ve only come here to stay a week. Are you sure you’ve got enough time for this?” 

Already eyeing a ruby-red book covered in dust, you nod vigorously. “I’ve got plenty of time. I’m the youngest historian of my group and I’m pretty sure my boss let me go on this trip because he figured it would keep me busy and out of the way of their more important jobs. Jokes on them though, this place is immaculate! I could write a million books about the architecture alone.” You glance over to see him leaning against a table watching you intently. “That is..if you would consent to that.” 

He sits motionless for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t see why not.” Grinning, you begin sorting through the books nearest to you. Several of them are in languages you’ve never seen and you examine them thoroughly. Organizing this library would not be easy but you were reluctant to think about giving yourself a time limit anyway. Judging by the size of this room alone, there was no way you’d be able to sort through it in a month let alone a week. The next three days, you focused on your task while pondering the idea of staying a little longer. 

During this time, you and Adrian had entered a rhythm. You’d wake up in the morning, he’d meet you in the kitchen and you walk together to the library. You’d spent hours in there reading over ancient stories of witches and vampires. All of them fill you with delight. 

You had become accustomed to Adrian being near you throughout this time. Relishing every moment, his skin brushed yours or he leaned over you to read whatever book you wanted to show him. It was on a late night almost identical to the others that Adrian had left without a word and reappeared with a tray with two cups and hot chocolate. 

“You didn’t have to bring me anything.” You replied after many thanks. He shook his pretty head. “Nonsense. After all you’ve done to help me, I won’t hesitate to do whatever I can for you.” He set a smoking cup in front of you before sliding into the chair closest to yours and sipping from his own cup. You watched him as he took a drink and you absentmindedly did the same. The scalding hot liquid bit at the skin of your bottom lip and tongue. You yelped. 

“Shit!” Adrian grasped your chin in one hand and sat your hot mug to the side.

“It’s smoking hot, Y/N. You can’t just inhale it that way.” He all but whispered as his callused thumb gently rubbed your bottom lip. 

“You did.” You mumble. His frown deepened and you watched his face as you impulsively let your tongue slide over the tip of his thumb. His breath caught in his throat. Less than a second later, he slid his thumb into your mouth and you wrapped your lips around it without a second thought. His pupils dilated as he tilted his head, lips parted. You tasted the cocoa on his skin and sighed breathily. 

Quickly, he moved his hand from your chin and pressed his lips to yours. Tilting your head, you leaned into him as he pulled you to his chest and slid his hands down your throat and shoulders. Past your arms and around your waist. Your arms find their way around his neck as you let him slide his tongue between your lips. The sound of your heartbeat and the noises you couldn’t help but make filled your ears. 

Just when you think you might have to lean back for air he breaks the kiss and presses his lips all over your face. Without a word, he lifts you by your waist and you wrap your legs around him quickly. He kisses you again, rougher this time. You don’t know how and nor do you care but soon your back is against the soft cushion of your bed and Adrian is leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and over your collarbones. 

After a moment, he rises and looks into your eyes. You can tell he’s searching for something but is unsure how to ask. The apprehension and obvious vulnerability tug on your heart and you place your hands on either side of his face. You nod, not waiting for him to ask. “Please.” You whisper. He closes his eyes and kisses you again before leaning back on his knees and pulling his shirt above his head from the hem up. You gasp when you see the long scar across his chest. It’s faded greatly, but the outline is still there and you sit up a little to drag your fingers across it. “What happened?” 

He looks to the right. “It was a long time ago.” He said nothing else and you didn’t press him. Gingerly, you pressed your lips to his chest and he shuttered against your lips. Like he’d never been touched there before. In a rush, he slid his hand through your hair held the back of your skull, and kissed you deeply. It was easier for him to undress and explore you without fear now. Eyes on yours, he pulled your panties from around your hips and slid them off. You giggled as he slid his cool fingertips between your knees and slowly spread them. 

You held your breath as his eyes roamed over your body. “So pretty.” He breathed and you whimpered as his hands slid down your thighs and over your pelvic bone. He kissed the bare skin of your shoulder, your knuckles, your thigh, your ankle. He inhaled your scent and you sighed with each touch. His fingertips found their way to the apex of your thighs and slid between your glistening lips. A shuttered moan falls from your lips and he chuckles. He kisses your temple while rubbing slow circles around your clit. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut as you teeter closer and closer to your orgasm. Without warning, he speeds up the movement, sucking the skin of your neck between his teeth sending shivers down your spine as your hips move against his hand of their own accord. In a burst of feeling you tip over the edge. A sharp shriek escapes your lips and it feels like forever before the shocks of pleasure end. As soon as it stops, you huff impatiently. It certainly wasn’t enough to make the heat of your skin cool down and the way he continued to caress your skin was only making it worse. 

He slid between your thighs and lined himself up with your entrance. “Are you ready?” He whispered in your ears. “Yes.” You reply quickly and he laughs at your eagerness. Then he gently presses the head of his cock into you. Both of you moan in unison. The air in the room thickens as he graciously waits for you to adjust to the intrusion. Slowly he edges himself all the way inside of you to the hilt and you fight to breathe. You had guessed he could fill you up but you hadn’t imagined it would feel like this. Your legs were still vibrating with the aftershocks of your first orgasm and you kiss his shoulder before telling him you’re ready for him to move. And that he does. 

Forehead to yours, he pulls his hips away from yours, leaving just the tip inside you before surging forward. The wind is knocked out of you and you squeeze your eyes shut as sounds you’ve never made before push out of your belly and mingle with his own. You lose yourself in the pressure and the rhythm as his hands bring your wrists together above your head. He holds them there with one hand and uses the other to pull your right thigh up higher on his hips. This allows him to reach deeper inside you and your back arches. 

Breath uneven, you raise your hips to meet his thrusts as your second orgasm oh so slowly gets closer and closer. Unable to see and barely able to hear, you beg him. “P-please. Please. Please.” You chant like a sinner praying for salvation. He presses his lips to your ear. 

“Please what?” 

You whimper. 

“Use your words.” He laughs against your skin as he leaves little bite indents on your forearms. The sound of your wetness echoes throughout the room, egging you on in the most obscene manner. All but screaming, you beg him to let you come. He murmurs “Good girl” in your ear and releases your wrists. He brings both of your knees up even higher and your hands grip his biceps as he plows into you. Almost instantly, your body tightens. Your eyes roll as your orgasm finally hits you, causing every part of your body to shake. This time you scream as he presses his hips into yours a few more times before stilling inside you. You watch as he closes his eyes and your name falls from his lips as he comes inside of you. 

Adrian lets your legs slip from his grip and lays down on you. The room is quiet save from the sound of your breathing. You can feel his heart beating against yours and you wrap your arms around him. Hand in his hair, you press your lips to his temple much like he’d done yours and he sighs into you. A smile dances across your lips as you hold him to you. 

“You’re so perfect.” He whispers. “I was going to say the same thing about you.” You reply. He exhales heavily and places a kiss on the inside of your elbow before getting up and entering your bathroom. You hear the faucet water turn on as he hums a song you’ve never heard before. He returns a moment later with a warm cloth and wipes your skin so gently that you feel your heart swell inside your chest. He continues to hum and the sound of his voice lulls you into a dreamless sleep.

Taglist: @hoppershoe. @c-crow-chatters

[magneto-was-fucking-right]

The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 4

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; will eventually contain very graphic descriptions of smut;

Chapter summary: In which Simon fixes his neighbor's leaky faucet and thinks about fixing something else... Word Count: 1.4k

When Riley Thomas had walked into the building’s unreliable elevator that night, barely beating its closing rickety doors, she hadn’t expected to see Simon already inside, sulking. His black hoodie and faded jeans were just as soaked as her woolen jumper and bell-bottoms, her hair in significantly worse disarray as she wiped the rain drops from her forehead, cheeks rosy from the cold.

The young woman hadn’t seen him for almost two whole weeks, the scarce discreet noises stemming from the thin walls hardly giving away his routine – she left too early in the morning to notice signs of movement and usually returned well into the evening, precluding the chance to ever see him return from any possible outings. When she did hear something – anything at all – it was usually late at night, as his tossing and turning in bed caused the mattress’ springs to creak noisily. She knew at least that their rooms fell on adjacent parts of their respective homes (not that she cared), and that he most likely shared her terrible insomnia. If she hadn’t met Simon, she’d think she had no neighbor at all, a vacant apartment next door inhabited solely by a ghost. Mostly silent, eerily quiet.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while.” Her cheeks reddened and she hoped she didn’t look as breathless as she sounded, the quick run from the grocery store to the building tiring her out.

He nodded once in acknowledgement, barely eyeing her, a Chinese food container secured in his large hands. Riley’s smile faltered slowly as she realized he wasn’t planning on indulging her chit-chat. As her hand moved to the elevator buttons, fingers purplish and swollen from the cold, Simon grunted:

“Already pressed’em.” She blushed once again, feeling anxious sweat form in every pore as the elevator doors shut.

“Right…Sorry.” A nervous giggle made its way out her mouth, and she took a deep breath before attempting a new social interaction.

She looked up, observing his side profile as discreetly as possible, eyes fixed on his black facemask.

“Can I ask you something?”

Simon sighed before replying.

“No.”

“Why do you always wear a mask? Got covid or something?” She deliberately ignored his moody reply.

“Would you stay away from me if I did?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, and the man forced a sickly cough so dramatic she couldn’t help but laugh.

As they reached their floor, Simon patiently waited for the young woman to exit the lift first, trailing behind her smaller frame like a massive shadow.

“I love that place” She pointed at his food from the Chinese restaurant across the street, the delicious smell from its contents having filled the elevator, and now wafting down the hall. “Funny…Never took you for a spring rolls guy.”

Simon rolled his eyes “I usually go for chicken fried rice.”

“That’s my favorite!” Riley smiled excitedly.

“Great.” He replied dismissively as he fished for his keys.

“How’s your leg?” she asked, and Simon halted at her soft look of genuine concern, his keys dangling between his thick fingers.

“Quite decent.” He conceded, eyeing his own thigh. He didn’t limp nearly as much, and he had been as cautious as possible with the sutures she had skillfully provided.

“Great, and I’m sorry if it’s been too noisy lately, I’ve been cleaning up the place and I’m still finding permanent homes for most of my rescues.” Riley grimaced slightly, aware of how inconvenient her presence was as a neighbor.

He shrugged, remaining silent as she kept talking.

“Do you happen to know anyone interested in the German shepherd pup?” She asked with pleading eyes “I love Rex, but he’s no dog for a crammed apartment with other pets.”

She observed him as he seemed momentarily lost in thought, his pensive gaze zoning out before returning to hers.

“I do, actually.” Simon shifted his weight “I’ll let you know.”

“Perfect...I’ll be waiting.” Riley smiled brightly at the prospect as she unlocked her door.

She was just about to bid him a good night when he blurted out:

“I didn’t thank you.” He mumbled awkwardly. They stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds. “For the stitches. An’ the groceries.”

A slow, mischievous grin crept up her cheeks, two characteristic dimples dotting them as she replied.

“Day off tomorrow. I’ll be waiting for you to come fix my faucet.”

“But-”

“And I love your new rug, by the way!” She taunted as she quickly scurried inside, leaving him baffled on his doorstep.

He huffed as he looked down at the pink rug she had gotten him – the one he had reluctantly placed outside his flat, those three annoying words right under his muddy boots.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell.”

***

“Hold the light still.” A moody grunt.

“I’m trying!” A whimper of despair.

Simon Riley found himself lying on his aching back under his neighbors’ kitchen sink, firm hands holding a rusty wrench that stained his calloused fingers.

He could easily bear the straining of his muscles on the awkward position, as well as Riley’s aptitude to point her phone’s flash to anything but where he actually needed it, if it wasn’t for the dog constantly biting on his boot, and a large, old cat trying to sleep on top of him.

“I’m sorry about Milo.” She frowned as she tried to push her feline companion away. “He’s old and tired.”

“Me and you both, mate” She tried to suppress a giggle at his comment.

“Can I ask you something?”

Simon grunted “Does it matter if I say no?”

“No. I’ll still ask, but your consent would be greatly appreciated.”

“Go on then.”

“What’s your rank?” He couldn’t see her face from where she kneeled beside him, but he rolled his eyes as he pictured her curious expression.

“Non’ of your business, kid.” He huffed as he tightened the pipe.

“Oh, c’mon…Why are you so grumpy today? Grumpier than usual, I mean.” Simon held her wrist firmly from under the sink, startling her. He felt her body stiffen under his touch, tense silence filling the room.

Slowly, softly, he pulled her wrist to the right position, so she finally held the light properly, and if his thumb had merely grazed her soft skin as it parted his, then it was purely accidental. Surely.

Simon felt awkward as he recalled the way her eyes had momentarily lingered on a glimpse of his abdomen when he had first laid on the floor, his shirt riding up as he lifted his arms to work, rolled up sleeves revealing numerous tattoos. A part of him – a part he longed to bury and dissociate from - tortuously replayed the glint in her innocent, curious eyes, the way her lips had slightly parted, and her cheeks and neck heated involuntarily.

As he finished the task, sliding from under the sink and sitting up against the cupboard, Simon avoided her gaze as he readjusted his black facemask.

“Lieutenant.” He conceded, killing the silence between the two.

She tried not to look too pleased about having her way, pocketing her phone and petting Rex distractedly as she considered the implications.

“Regular army?”

“SAS.”

“Wow…A seasoned soldier then.”

“A bit.” Simon groaned as he stood up, his joints cracking painfully.

“That’s the sound of victory right there.” She taunted and he shot her a glare.

“Jus’ turn the bloody thing on.”

He rolled his eyes as she stood upright, saluting him.

“Sir, yes sir!”

 “I’m never tellin’ you anythin’ ever again.”

“Copy that, Lieutenant.” Riley giggled as she turned on the faucet. “Success!” She yelled excitedly as there were no more leaks.

Simon nodded in approval, satisfied with his work.

“I guess you’re good at laying pipe.” The young woman joked, winking playfully.

“Shut up, kid.” He turned around, heading slowly for her door so she wouldn’t notice his flushed ears. “Bugger off with your yank expressions.”

Despite being more cluttered, her tiny flat seemed much cozier than his, and he made sure to avoid stepping on her clean carpet as Milo tried to waddle between his feet.

“Leaving so soon?” She seemed disappointed by his quick retreat, but he didn’t dare face her soft gaze again.

Simon stopped by the doorway and stared at Riley’s baby picture on the thrifted entrance table. She was chunky and missing half her teeth, but the same dimpled smile brightened up the dull background. Right beside it stood a picture of her father, his medals humbly kept in a small glass display.

“I can’t stay.”

“Not even for a cup of tea?” He could almost feel how hard she struggled to blurt out the invitation, her tone laced with shyness.

“Maybe next time, love.”

A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry I took forever to post another part, holidays were crazy! I hope you guys are enjoying it and feel free to drop any feedback or ask to be added to the tag list :) Thank you guys for reading <3

TAG LIST

@xaestheticalien @lillysfrogsandbogs

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8.6k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013 

You were outside when the woman rode up. 

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you. 

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different. 

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home. 

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.  

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?” 

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up. 

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?” 

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon. 

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.” 

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense. 

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened. 

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.” 

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!” 

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two. 

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.  

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…” 

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.” 

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…” 

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’” 

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing. 

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off. 

“Should have listened….” 

You glared at her. 

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. “And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Glad you spared me.” 

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock. 

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…” 

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together. 

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.” 

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…” 

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.” 

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.” 

“Dance party?” He frowned. 

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face. 

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall. 

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before. 

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did. 

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier. 

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission. 

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you. 

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow. 

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest. 

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.” 

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face. 

“You found people outside?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…” 

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. 

“The clinic…” 

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.” 

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic. 

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside. 

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…” 

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…” 

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg. 

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?” 

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.” 

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.” 

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again. 

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…” 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you. 

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in. 

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…” 

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…” 

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see. 

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.” 

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…” 

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…” 

“Yes, I can.” 

You moved around him and he followed. 

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…” 

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it. 

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…” 

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…” 

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…” 

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…” 

“You…” he breathed. 

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.” 

*** 

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it. 

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…” 

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you. 

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.” 

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind. 

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin. 

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…” 

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face. 

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…” 

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.” 

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you. 

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?” 

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. ���They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…” 

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face. 

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…” 

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…” 

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath. 

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…” 

“I need you to take Savannah.” 

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…” 

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.” 

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…” 

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.” 

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes. 

“OK.” 

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20. 

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead. 

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?” 

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat. 

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.” 

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child. 

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter. 

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…” 

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.” 

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.” 

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand. 

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close. 

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world. 

August 2018 

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope. 

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…” 

“But they’re people.” 

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. 

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.” 

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing. 

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you. 

“Mama!” 

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you. 

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…” 

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?” 

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time. 

But the world, you knew, was not so kind. 

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library. 

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder. 

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK. 

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?” 

“What else would I need to shoot?” 

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book. 

“What?” 

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?” 

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.” 

“But I like animals,” she pouted. 

You smiled. 

“I know you do.” 

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you. 

You sighed. 

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.” 

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face. 

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe. 

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.” 

September 15, 2023 

“Mom?” 

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside. 

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?” 

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.  

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat. 

“Gattling, release.” 

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance. 

“We have to move.” 

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…” 

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.” 

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack. 

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.” 

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it. 

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment. 

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?” 

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…” 

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide. 

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…” 

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.” 

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple. 

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.” 

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.” 

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody. 

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.” 

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her. 

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her. 

“Just three days, right Mom?” 

You swallowed, hard, before nodding. 

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules. 

You needed to buy her time. 

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape. 

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill. 

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised. 

You had to get back to her. 

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention. 

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you. 

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…” 

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees. 

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?” 

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy. 

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat. 

He laughed. 

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…” 

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground. 

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed. 

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.” 

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up. 

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…” 

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!” 

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other. 

“Show ‘er.” 

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair. 

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…” 

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.  

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…” 

Mitchum smiled. 

“Good.” 

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose. 

It was a year before there was room for anything else. 

Early April, 2027 

“Bambi…” 

“Move, Joel.” 

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her. 

First aid, that you’d need. 

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…” 

“I have to try.” 

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it. 

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…” 

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.” 

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…” 

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?” 

He froze, looking at you. 

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow. 

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.” 

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…” 

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…” 

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart. 

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could. 

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…” 

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…” 

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…” 

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…” 

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…” 

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!” 

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls. 

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin. 

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…” 

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see. 

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you. 

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!” 

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!” 

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain. 

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…” 

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…” 

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…” 

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…” 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…” 

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” 

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook. 

“Bambi…” 

“Get out,” you managed. 

He said your name. Your real name. 

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!” 

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…” 

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….” 

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!” 

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.” 

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.” 

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again. 

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

[cumxfairy]

synopsis: businessman!toji visits the strip club for the first time in his life and has quite the experience (short asf, testing this new format hehe)

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businessman!toji who decided to say “fuck it” and go to the strip club with his coworkers this weekend instead of going home to his nagging wife and the six month old baby’s loud cries. his colleagues would always invite him, but toji constantly refused, as he was sure it would cause a strain in his marriage. this time, one of his coworkers and close friends, satoru gojo was able to convince him.

businessman!toji who is thoroughly impressed by the club’s interior design. he expected it to be trashy and stinky, but it was quite the opposite. his emerald eyes scan through the place and watch how men leaned back into the comfortable seats as the sexy, barely clothed dancers grinded on them and danced on the poles. “hm, not bad”

businessman!toji who’s friends try to talk him into requesting a private session on their tab. “since it’s your first time, y’know?” he’s hesitant as he glances at his friend’s blue eyes and then back up to the many women performing stunts on poles. his wife wouldn’t like this at all, but she isn’t here is she? “alright, get me a good one though”

businessman!toji who sits calmly in the dimly lit private room with his legs widespread and arms folded, awaiting his service. he slightly taps his feet to the faint music and decides to pour himself a glass of the high quality whiskey. one sip and he could already feel his tense muscles relax, which was perfect since his service had finally arrived.

businessman!toji who stares at you intently as you slowly make your way towards him. your body already had him thinking wild things. “so, first timer, huh?” the sultriest voice he had ever heard asked. he smirked at the young woman before him in her maroon lingerie set, which barely covered her private areas. her pussy lips were practically hanging out, the areoles around her hard nipples peaked through the thin fabric and her plump ass was on full display.

businessman!toji who can’t help but release some grunts here and there while you danced on him to the tune of a sexy, slow jazz song. he could feel your throbbing bud on his hardened bulge and your nipples grazing his torso with each smooth whine. “damn, how many men do you do this for? ya seem like a veteran..”

businessman!toji who’s had enough of your teasing and pulls out a hefty tip from his wallet, slides into the side of your thong and orders you to “take it off”, nodding at your bra. he chuckled when u instantly obliged “ what a money loving, obedient little whore you are.”

businessman!toji who’s aggressively sucking on your buds while his big, manly hands knead your ass cheeks. he enjoys hearing your pathetic whimpers and moans “oh yes daddy!” that one almost made his cock spring out of his slacks.

businessman!toji who has you in a deep arch as he drills into you on the black leather sofa. he holds both your wrists to your lower back with one hand as the other tightly held your head into the couch, muffling your cries and screams. the sounds of skin slapping, leather scraping and the dirty smell of your arousal have him in a daze, one that’s only contributing to his insane stamina.

businessman!toji who releases a thick load into your pussy without giving a fuck about a possible pregnancy “there you go, better fuckin’ take it all bitch”. he lets go of you and sits back, watching your pussy twitch and the liquids ooz out of it. “that’s good..”

businessman!toji who’s putting his clothes back on, not providing you with aftercare at all. this is your job, being nothing but a tool for his pleasure so why should he care? he takes more cash out his wallet and throws it at your sad, fucked out, cum filled body. “thanks, might come back with my friend next time.”

[lionlena]

Leave… (Oberyn Martellxreader) ANGST - one shot

Warnings: ANGST, I wrote this to break my own heart, Oberyn is unfaithful, pain, sadness, heartbreak…

Leave

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care But it's so cold and I don't know where I brought you daffodils in a pretty string But they won't flower like they did last spring

You stood on the terrace and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. Lately, the evening air had been growing colder each day, as if the cold breeze off the sea itself was trying to make you realize it… Your time with Oberyn was coming to an end. The fire of love was growing weaker and weaker.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek and quickly wiped it away, almost angrily. You promised yourself that you wouldn't cry and despair, after all, you knew from the very beginning that this would be the end. You knew who Oberyn Martell was. No one wins the title of Dorne's Best Lover by being with two, three, or even ten women. He never hid his passion and desire for orgies from you. And you told yourself that it wasn't a problem, because: You would always be first in line… But recently something has changed. Your nights were shorter. Your days together are less joyful. The prince seemed more distracted. Even as he stroked your hair, he seemed to be somewhere else. Or rather, with another one.

When you asked him about it directly, he didn't even pretend, he didn't deny it. He said he met a special woman. The woman he wants to make his paramour. That he can't stop thinking about her. This woman consumed his thoughts. Your heart tightened in pain. You knew perfectly well that he felt the same way about you at first. You asked what happened to you then. He replied that you could stay… But did you want to?

You were brought out of your thoughts by the touch of a warm, large hand on your back. Something that used to bring you comfort. Now it made you shiver.

"Let's go inside. You're cold." He said softly, touching your hair with his lips.

You wanted to scream for him to stop showing you so much care and affection. If he were rude and aggressive, at least it would be easier for you.

"I made my decision." You said and moved away a bit.

The prince looked at you worriedly. He sighed and nodded, encouraging you to continue.

"I want to leave you. I will take the gold you offer me and go somewhere far away… Maybe I will live in the Free Cities."

Oberyn was silent for a moment. He dipped his head down and took your hand in his. His thumb gently stroked your skin.

"You don't have to…"

"But I want."

Oberyn looked at you sadly and whispered:

"I love you…"

You smiled nostalgically and stroked his cheek. His love changed nothing. His love didn't help you share him with another woman.

"I know… And I love you. But you know what is the most beautiful thing you can give to someone you love?" Oberyn looked at you carefully, waiting for your answer. "Freedom…" You whispered as the first tears rolled down your cheeks. "And that's what I'm giving you, Oberyn Martell… And I'm asking you to give me the same."

The prince wiped the tears from your cheek with his thumb.

"I wish I was different… But I can't."

You nodded. You wanted him to be different too, but obviously, the gods didn't create him for marriage.

"I understand that. Goodbye, Oberyn."

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. The prince embraced you and hugged you tightly.

"I will miss you."

One thing you knew was that you would never love someone as much as you love Oberyn. You won't be able to give the same love to any other man. You won't sing and dance for anyone else. And for no other man will you cry as you cry for Oberyn. But you also knew that no other love could hurt you as much as your love for Oberyn. So you looked into his beautiful brown eyes one last time and left.

You weren't the only lover he left behind, but you were the only one who made his heart tremble painfully as he watched you leave.

And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright I'm just so tired to share my nights I wanna cry and I wanna love But all my tears have been used up

*Tom Odell - Another love

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

[silviakundera]

I've seen you discuss this with other people but I've only made the jump from J dramas to C ones where it's mostly about romance and are c writers allergic women making the same effort in a relationship or... Granted I've only watched dramas from this year at first I thought it was just historical stuff but it's not it's practically every romance drama will love in spring-snowstorm-love endures-in blossom-double-shenli-royal princess-my boss-our interpreter and so on. If she's not outright treating him badly he's a cirque du Soleil contortionist trying to please her and she's not even in the circus don't they know balance is key to everything? Different dramas should have different bonds it's quite concerning that it's just one thing almost every time I think it speaks to a larger issue or maybe I'm overthinking it

idk what to tell you anon. It may simply be that chinese dramas are not to your taste and that's ok. I tried the occasional kdrama for years and didn't really fall in love with many... Most jdramas don't engage me. But when I tried a few cdramas it was like love at first sight. Something about the stories they want to tell, the themes they explore, and the characters they tend to portay just hooks me. And that's a very personal thing.

All I can share is that as a middle-aged corporate lesbian girlboss... a surprising amount cdramas have connected with me about how they explore a woman who is career focused & has to balance that with developing a romantic relationship and then maintaining one.

And when I'm consuming a romance storyline, what preocupies me is if I find it interesting, if the characters both feel vibrant & dynamic, if I can see how they might work together. Do their broken pieces fit? Can I see a path where eventually they can reach a point of mutual understanding, where both are fulfilled? Do I get their vibe? Do they have a unique vibe? Do I believe they like each other, as people? Or at least, do I see a clear path where they will be/have these things by the end of the story?

That's what dictates if I want to keep watching/reading a romance. Personally, I don't spend a lot of time weighing up perceived effort/favors and needing things to be perceived as "even". I would not want to date a person who thinks like that, because I find that idea stressful and off-putting! 🙈 If the people are happy, then they're happy! If neither feels abused & taken advantage of, if they're clearly content, then I don't need to calculate 'same effort' parity.

But that's just me! Everyone is different. And you don't have to overthink or justify what TV you like or don't like. Maybe cdramas aren't for you. That's all good. But please don't ask me to engage with romance this way, it kinda poisons it for me and makes things a bummer. 😔

I simply cannot say that I share your perspective. For instance, I thought Shen Li was a drama with a great otp who had priorities that did not always align but ultimately they ended up in a beautiful relationship with unconventional gender dynamics and in the finale they are clearly super happy & fulfilled together.

The Princess Royal isn't finished yet but lemme say their love in the novel is EPIC. Absolute one of the otps of all time for me. Better characters than most western historical romance novels I've read. If you look at the small stuff and try to weight who did this or that as a series of transactions, imo you are missing the beauty of how these 2 people took a lifetime of getting everything wrong before being ready for each other - but now they are ready, they are listening to each other and remembering to come back with kindness for each other and moving foward into a bond that's truly beautiful. Yeah, it takes almost the whole novel to get there. But IT DOES. No one loves Pei Wenxuan harder than Li Rong, sees the true value of Pei Wenxuan more than Li Rong, and no one will come to his ferocious rescue like Li Rong. I feel like I could cite 35 quotes to prove my point, it's that clear in the text.

a few of the modern cdrama couples who made me want to believe in love again:

Lighter & Princess - academic rivals to lovers to exes to ????, a drama that snuck up on me and slowly made me lose my mind. Best experience is to be unspoiled and thus surprised about where the story takes you. A long winding road, with some huge dips, before they reach a place where they have a beautiful hard-earned partnership. Makes me emotional just to think about them.

Hidden Love is a simple but beautifully acted tale about a sheltered & gently spoiled girl who falls in love with one of her older brother's best friends. Such a common romance plot but the execution is everything. The characters feel warm & real. FL's bittersweet young love tugs at your heart strings. I was impressed at how they crafted the platonic bond she forms with a lonely young man weighed down by financial & emotional family burdens, which later blooms into a mutual affection that enriches both their lives, and it all feels very natural. You really feel that their lives are immeasurably better by being together. Sang Zhi's protectiveness towards him is so !!!

Vid Rec: Seven by SakinaMv (who I've subscribed to for a long time)

You Are My Glory, which has a very silly sounding concept but ended up one of my fav comfort shows. Beautiful teen girl has a crush on the local school genius and asks him out; he politely rejects her, dismissing her efforts to connect because he can't see what they would have in common. 13 years later, he's a rocket scientist and she's become one of the top idols in china. She's at the peak of her profession but having a tiny PR mishap when caught repping a video game that she actually doesn't play. He's taking a leave from work as he struggles with the economic realities of picking a job that consumes your life but pays like shit. She's looking for help to learn this damn game & cover her ass; she still has his chat ID and he's online with nothing better to do. Once they start interacting, her crush on him returns & he starts to realize that that person he had discounted may actually be that confidant who can walk beside him? My dad was poor scientist who 'wasted' his intelligence following his passion, so I found ML's turmoil especially compelling. [Note: quite a bit of video game playing in the 1st half of the drama (as this is the driver for a celebrity and an unemployed scientist to hang out), then almost none in the second half]

Vid Rec: Stargazing by dramasaffair

Vid Rec: Flashlight by HânAlli (turn on CC)

The Road Home, a second chance romance of 2 people who come from rough home-lifes who fell in love when young but couldn't handle a long distance relationship. Then they meet many years later and try a long distance relationship again. I love me a couple who I can believe just get each other and make each other happier when they are together.

Meet Yourself - a slice-of-life story about a woman whose best friend dies, so she quits her job out of grief to go take the simple vacation that they would talk about doing but never got around to. And naturally she finds herself immersed in village drama and finds a soulmate (big city career woman goes to a small town and falls in love with small town boy is a HUGE american romance cliche, and one I've never enjoyed, so I was surprised at how much I liked this)

Vid Rec - MK916 can always be counted on to publish tons of quality cdrama couple vids

[n3ptoonz]

'Closer'

Pairing: Smoke/F!Reader

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: SMUT! Explicit!! Msub to Mdom, fluff elements, we use Tomas around these parts (literally and figuratively), implied breeding knk, dirty talk near the end, Tomas is a lover boy with a filthy mind, riding

Word count: 1.8k+

When he met you, his whole world was flipped upside down in the best way possible. You were strong, physically and emotionally, and tolerated no bullshit. All with grace and beauty. You were almost the opposite of him in personality, which drew him in even further since the day he met you at Madam Bo's. You were one of the customers that stayed behind to help out when the test was going, having you think the Lin Kuei was really trying to take over the restaurant.

You were and still are a fierce fighter. You really almost beat him if he didn't go invisible to take you down. So now, he was absolutely infatuated with everything about you. The day he came back to you, letting you know about the break in Kuai Liang and Bi Han's relationship and Kuai's new clan; how quick you were in agreeing to follow him wherever he goes was just the icing on the cake.

Tomas opened the door for you, a bright smile shining on his face. He finally married the woman of his dreams after so long of you proving you were fit to marry into the clan, which he held dear to his heart.

You kissed his cheek as a thank you, walking further into your suite. You both made your way to the back door, taking in some of the view --that wasn't covered by the fence--of Outworld's biggest city: Edenia.

"Beautiful..." Tomas murmured, "The view too." he chuckled, nudging you playfully.

You playfully rolled her eyes, nudging him back from his cute little joke. You wrapped your hands around his arm, laying your head on his broad shoulder as you two stared at the blue sky that was soon to change colors, sighing in content.

"If this is a dream, don't wake me up." you mumbled, quietly but just loud enough for him to hear what you said. You looked up at him, tracing the muscle lines on his thick biceps. It was one of your favorite physical features about him, his beautifully sculpted arms from the years and years of training in the Lin Kuei.

Tomas felt warmth spreading through his chest as you cuddled against him, and from the sound of your voice filled with pure contentment.

Leaning in, Tomas captured your lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The delicate taste of your lips alone was intoxicating, causing a surge of desire to wash over him. The moment felt surreal and yet undeniably real, like a long-awaited fulfillment of your love.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breaths coming out in soft, ragged puffs. "My beautiful wife," he murmured your name, his voice filled with devotion. "I am so lucky to finally be able to say you are mine, and I am yours. This honeymoon will be unforgettable, just you wait." he whispered, nuzzling his nose with yours with the giddiness that a newlywed would be expected to have.

You gently ran your fingers through his short silver locks, smiling at his love professions. Your gaze shifting oh so slightly, but he could easily tell what it meant after being with you for so long.

"Why don't show me in the hot springs?" you whispered, slowly pulling away from him and letting your eyes linger on him. You got undressed, wrapped yourself in a towel off the shelf, and headed towards the back door with a sway in your hips, looking back at a blushing Tomas.

"Well?"

Tomas couldn't help but stammer over his words as he stared at you. You've only ever engaged in intimate moments with each other a few times in the 5 years you've been together pre-marriage, but never got to the sexual part. This good old fashioned lover boy was raised on the idea that partners are to be cherished, and there were far more ways to show your love for someone without it always resulting in sexual activity.

However, today, that was about to change.

You both settled into the hot springs after washing up, sighing in relaxation. He stole a glimpse of you looking up at the sky changing from blue to yellow as the sun was setting along the horizon. One small part of him was nervous. Not because he was sitting across from you and your naked figure that was obscured by the water, but because this was your first time together. He hadn't much time to think about this sort of thing due to his new role in the Shirai Ryu and actively protecting Earthrealm. So this moment was very important and special to him.

"The sun's about to set." you said, looking over at him who was nearly frozen in place--his gaze already meeting yours.

"Outworld's skies are always so beautiful at night." you continued, tilting your head to the side and trying to get a read on him.

"I can think of something prettier..." he murmured. The calm waves rippling over his biceps and collarbones made your mouth water. He always found a way to round a statement back to how beautiful he found you, and he meant it every time seldom shame.

"Yeah? What's that?" you asked, slowly standing up out of the water. As soon as it dropped back down, the remaining drops just continued to fall down every inch of your body. The closer you stepped towards him, the more he could see the sun rays bounce off the water reflection sticking to your skin.

Tomas's next words were caught in his throat. The mere sight of the water dripping from your breasts, to your hips, to your thighs--and how some of the drops fell in between them. You re-settled into his lap and let his hands instinctively grab your hips.

Was this all a dream? A simulation? How did he get such a good-looking individual that could fight her heart out against strangers that were twice her size? Ugh, he felt so lucky and so selfish at the same time. He had you all to himself, and all his dreams were to be fulfilled.

"I...You-"

You slowly sank down into his lap, drinking in his moans with a kiss. His body tensed underneath you as you took all of him. You briefly broke the kiss for a second to gasp at how much he filled you up.

"Tomas..." you breathed out, sitting still for a moment while you adjusted and gripping his shoulders.

He shuddered at the sound of his name escaping from your lips, letting his soft hands feel you up as much as he pleased.

"Take it, baby...it's all yours..." he whispered against your lips and smiled, pecking the corner of your mouth. "Take your time, we've got all night long."

This was your first time together and in general. All those times of sneaking off just for a few kisses and hugs were absolutely nothing in comparison to this.

Every movement of your hips felt like pure bliss for both ends. It's like your body was made for him and vice versa. The water making the flow smoother added a perfect touch too.

You could feel Tomas gripping your sides, panting like he just ran a mile.

"Shit-" he said, pulling you closer and letting himself loose. You softly gasped at the feeling of warm liquid pumping inside you, and it definitely wasn't the water from the hot springs.

His breaths were shaky and his body trembled beneath you. His face was bright pink from embarrassment since he didn't expect to cum so quickly.

You cupped his cheeks in yours hands and just looked at him with adoration.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, I'm actually flattered," you said, whispering the last part, "But we aren't done just yet."

-

The loud sounds of skin smacking together mixed with heavy breaths and moans filled the room like there was no tomorrow. You two managed to make your way back to the hotel room and get to work, but Tomas's attitude did a complete flip.

Underneath that lover boy, sweetheart exterior, tonight his main goal was to spread you wide and take you like you were his. because you are his, and he's yours, forever. Tomas was always the kind of man who made sure you were top priority. Nothing was changing tonight. In fact, it's being put into more practice tonight.

He had you on your side and holding your thigh in one hand while his free arm was wrapped comfortably around your neck. He couldn't help but feel obligated to give you the best time of your life after cumming so prematurely, and he knew that his bicep being so close to your face would send you into overdrive.

You were speechless. The words he uttered into your ear while he fucked into you had you stuttering and gasping. You grabbed and clawed at his arm, tears forming in the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you received, pleading he doesn't stop.

As you neared your climax, he was getting closer too, as it was all going to his head in the hottest way possible. You had never seen such a side of him even though you knew he had it in him whenever you saw him fight. But this? Oh, this was different. This was sexually frustrated, passionate Tomas, who wanted to give you everything he had.

"I'm gonna cum inside you one more time, and you'll be having twins." he said, his voice getting raspier as he gripped your thigh a little tighter. You whined and clenched around him, still unable to form words and nearly drooling from the side of your mouth.

You came first, trembling under his touch and slightly bucking once his final thrust hit your sweet spot. You were simply a mess by the time he was finished with you, and you couldn't be happier.

He, in fact, came inside you one more time. That twins line surely did a number on you. You wondered just where the hell he had been hiding this side for as long as you knew him.

You both cleaned up and finally rested, tangled in each other's arms and lovingly looking into each other's eyes.

"Where'd you learn to talk like that?" you asked in half jest, playing with his hair.

"Honestly? I was surprised myself...But I was dedicated to taking care of you on this special night. And I hope I didn't freak you out with that whole twins thing..."

You raised your eyebrow, shaking your head to reassure him. "Please, I'd have your triplets."

"Deal." he responded rather quickly, earning a playful roll of the eyes and shared laugh between you two.

----

a/n: hii if you made it to the end, just know since bi han won in the poll i posted a few days ago he will be next so stay tuned! <3 also my asks are now open i finally figured it out