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rafesaddiction · 6 months

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It's not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader

See here for part 2

Summary: You and your best friend Rafe want to watch some movies together, but your jealous boyfriend keeps calling you and makes you cry. Rafe takes care of you.

Concept: best friends, one bed

Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), jealousy, hints at toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe, but also kinda mean!rafe

Word count: 3.9k

“Now what has the dick done this time?”

“His name is Nick and you know that,” you punched your best friend against his chest, causing him to mouth an “ouch!” and rub the spot you had hit, pretending to be hurt, though you knew even if you'd tried, you could not actually hurt him. He was so much stronger than you. And hitting him with your fist, you just felt his hard muscles and actually hurt your own hand a little.

“Whatever. He's a dick for sure,” Rafe shrugged, reached over you to grab the popcorn. His arm brushed your chest, just hardly touching your shirt, and weirdly it made you shiver.

You frowned at Rafe who had already turned his face towards the TV screen again. You were sitting next to him on the floor in front of his bed. Sure it wasn't as comfortable as if you had been sitting on the bed, but it was kind of your thing. Yours and Rafe's. When you were kids you used to do that all the time, sit as close to the TV screen as possible, because “it was like going to the movies”, the screen seemed so much bigger. Now the screen was actually huge, it still felt bigger sitting on the floor and looking up. You kind of felt like kids again, even though you were both adults now. It was a feeling of nostalgia, something you hadn't known you had missed that much.

It had been a while since you had done this, just a movie night with your best friend since childhood. Though your college wasn't that far away from the island, you had hardly seen Rafe in the last couple of months. And you'd missed this, hanging out with your best friend. Watching a movie marathon – Rafe had picked tonight's movies: all four John Wick films. And even though you had rolled your eyes when Rafe told you, you had to admit the movies were actually fun to watch. And you enjoyed yourself, eating popcorn, sitting next to each other, chatting or just watching in silence when a scene got extremely exciting.

You enjoyed yourself more than you had in a while. And you were so glad that you had agreed to spending time with Rafe before you would have to drive back to college the next day.

Well, you had enjoyed yourself, until your phone just wouldn't keep quiet. You had it on silent, but you could see the screen blinking. And you couldn't ignore it, because it might be important.

It was your boyfriend who had been texting you. And you hated to leave him on read, so you replied. But he didn't stop. You told him – again – you would call him later, you were watching movies with your best friend. His answer wasn't what you had hoped for.

You were just typing back when Rafe asked you what your boyfriend had done.

You really didn't want to talk about it, you wanted to relax, not think about your boyfriend or college or the next day when you would have to return, not think about how much you had missed just being yourself in the company of your best friend.

But your phone kept ringing. Your boyfriend was now calling you. You sighed.

You saw Rafe glancing at you sideways.

You should just put your phone away, and ignore it. But you were already too upset to enjoy the movie.

So you got up.

“I gotta take this,” you told Rafe, pointing at your phone, and you didn't even wait for his reply, but went to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind you.

You took a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hi babe, I—” But your boyfriend didn't let you finish. He started talking right away, though it wasn't actually talking, he was yelling at you. He was furious that you had ignored him. You tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen.

“Why haven't you told me who you are meeting?”

“I didn't think it was such a big deal. Rafe's my best friend, you know that. I've known him since forever…”

Your boyfriend went to high school with you, so he knew who Rafe Cameron was. And he had never gotten along with him. Which was okay, because you only started dating at college. And that was when you found out that he hated your best friend. But since you hardly ever saw Rafe, he was never really a topic in your relationship. Until now.

“Don't think I'm stupid, y/n. He's not just a friend. He's Rafe Cameron.”

“But he is my friend!” You had tried to keep quiet, but your emotions were in turmoil. You didn't know how it had happened, but you were almost feeling angry.

“A friend who wants to fuck you. But that's what you want, huh? You just wanna be one of his dumb sluts? He's using you!”

Tears filled your eyes and you couldn't hold them back at his harsh words.

“That's not true,” your voice sounded weak and you sobbed.

He wouldn't listen. He just accused you of these ridiculous things, calling you names, and then he just hung up. You tried to call him back, but the call went straight to voice mail.

Your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast, you felt it would explode in your chest. Tears were running down your cheeks, but you didn't even care to wipe them from your face when you left the bathroom to return to Rafe's bedroom.

He was still sitting on the floor in front of the bed. The movie was paused, you noticed from the silence in the room, and it kind of touched you that he had been so considerate to pause the movie, so you wouldn't miss a scene.

He looked up at you, but you tried to avoid his gaze as you walked closer.

“I need to go,” you said, hardly audibly.

“What?” Rafe frowned at you. “Dicky calls and you come running?”

For a moment, you wondered if he was hurt. After all, you had promised to spend time with him, watch a John Wick marathon. And you hadn't seen him for so long.

“I can't do this now,” you sniffled and shook your head. You couldn't deal with your best friend's hurt feelings too now, even though you felt bad. But you needed to leave now, you needed to make things right with your boyfriend.

You reached down to pick up your bag that was lying on the floor next to Rafe, when he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. You let out a surprised gasp as you fell right onto his lap, where he caught you, where he held you.

You struggled and tried to get up.

“Let me go, asshole,” you punched his shoulder, but Rafe only held you closer in both his arms.

“What now? I'm the asshole, but he makes you cry?”

Rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look at him when you tried to turn your face away.

“Let me go,” you said, blinking tears away.

“Only when you tell me what's going on. What has he done to you?”

You tried to shake your head, struggling to get up, but he was stronger, so much stronger, and the way he held you, held you like he would never let go off you, you became overwhelmed by your emotions, no longer able to get your act together, instead of pushing away, you now clung to your best friend. You buried your face at the crook of his neck, and he held you. Tears were soaking his shirt and he caressed your hair. You were shaking and trembling and sobbing, and Rafe pulled you closer.

This side of him wasn't new to you, but no one else knew him like this, caring, protecting. And you had only seen him like this on few occasions. And it was like your body reacted to his. Though your feelings were still in turmoil, your shaking had stopped, your crying became quieter. Your hands were still clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

He was quiet and you could just feel his calm breathing, when you got quieter yourself after some time. He did not say anything, did not urge you. And you felt so comfortable. So safe. And you realized that you hadn't felt like this in months. You hadn't felt like this since you left.

You were only sobbing quietly after a while and moved your head back, to gaze at your best friend.

He looked at you, and on his lips was a little smile, as if he was looking at something precious.

You suddenly became very aware of his gaze.

“Don’t look at me. I look like a mess,” you cast your eyes down.

“Hot mess,” he said softly and you felt your cheeks flushing.

You tried to punch his chest, but he caught your fist in his hand, wrapping it around it, holding it. This time, you didn't try to struggle and pull it away, you felt this warmth from the closeness, not just surrounding your hand. You looked up from his big hand holding yours to his face, finding his eyes still on you.

“You're fucking beautiful and if he doesn't make you feel that way, he doesn't deserve you.”

An incredible heat was rushing to your face and you knew you were blushing crimson.

“You only say that because you’re my best friend.”

“I shouldn't say that because I am your best friend…”

Your lips opened at his words, but instead of speaking you only breathed in. And you could feel his breath on your face, on your lips. You closed your mouth and unconsciously your tongue touched your lips, as if trying to feel something there.

His blue eyes looked at you, so intensely, you could almost feel them on you.

His fingers moved and he was caressing your hand still in his. It was such a light movement, such a delicate touch, but it sent waves of electricity through your body. This tingling sensation made you restless and your body wriggled in his arms, making you well aware of the fact that you were sitting in his lap. You inhaled sharply.

“I should go,” you mumbled and tried to get up.

Rafe held you tighter, his hand around your fist pressed against is chest. His other arm around your back.

“Rafe, let me go,” you urged.

“Only when you tell me what he's done to you.”

“Nothing.”

You shook your head, but Rafe suddenly gripped your jaws again, and this time so hard, it hurt a little. He looked at you, his eyes narrowed, a frown on his forehead and his voice was so stern, so commanding, it made you shiver.

“What did he say to you? Tell me now.”

You looked down with your eyes but somehow you couldn't refuse his command.

“He called me a dumb slut and said you just wanted to use me.”

There was silence, a cold, icy silence. You watched his face.

His brows furrowed, his nostrils flared, his jaws clenched.

“I'm gonna kill him.”

You saw his eyes darken, his handsome features grew tense. And even though you were sure that he didn't mean what he said, you felt a shiver running down your spine, because he kind of looked as if he meant it.

He was about to get up, and you were slipping from his lap in that motion. But you clung to him.

“No, Rafe, don't!”

And even though you were weaker than him, your hands pressed on his broad shoulders and you somehow managed to push him down, so he remained seated and you found yourself straddling his lap now.

His chest was rising and falling, as if from exhaustion. His hands found your hips and you felt you were panting too. Suddenly feeling so hot and restless.

“I'm gonna go,” you said, but you didn't get up.

“I can't let you drive like this. You’re a bad driver anyway, and you'll surely crash into some tree or something when you drive in this state.”

You frowned at his words.

“But I need to get back to college in the morning.”

You felt his hands grip your hips firmer, even though you didn't try to move.

“You can just stay the night and drive in the morning after you've rested.”

It wouldn't be the first night you spent at your best friend's. Though it had been a while.

“Rose is redecorating the guest room – again. You can't sleep in there. But you can sleep in my bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”

“But –”

“No buts.”

And that and the stern look on his face shut you up.

You weren't in the mood to continue watching the movie marathon and it was late anyway, so you decided to go to sleep. Rafe gave you one of his t-shirts to wear for the night, and you went into the bathroom to change and wash your face. It was a warm night, so you only wore the t-shirt over your panties, it was way too big for you, but it was extremely comfortable.

When you returned to the bedroom, you found Rafe putting a blanket on the floor next to the bed, making some make-shift bed. He was just wearing boxer briefs, and even though the light was dim, you could see his well-defined body clearly. You'd seen him like this before, of course. Like when you had been at the beach or swimming in the pool. Yet somehow, seeing him in his underwear felt different, more intimate.

You stood there, hands clutching the hem of the oversized t-shirt at your thighs. And you looked at him when he straightened up and turned towards you.

You felt his eyes travelling over your body and you quickly started moving towards the bed.

“What are you doing there?”

Rafe tilted his head. You pointed at the floor.

“You don't have to sleep on the floor. Your bed is big enough for the two of us. This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, maybe I don't want to get hit when you're tossing and turning in your sleep?”

“I did that once! When I was eight!”

“Once was enough. And it really hurt when you punched my ribs in your sleep. So, no thank you. I'll take the floor.”

Rafe took a pillow from the bed and was about to set it on the floor when you grabbed his arm, to get that pillow back.

“You're stupid. This is stupid!”

You frowned at him, pulled at his arm, to get the pillow, and in your struggling with him, he must have lost balance, because you suddenly found yourself on your back on the bed and Rafe was lying on top of you. That pillow still in his hand, your hand around his wrist, with his arm and yours above your head on the bed.

You looked up at him, your face just an inch away from his. You could hardly see his features, but you felt the proximity, felt it so intensely. Felt that heat that was radiating from his body, felt it crawling over your skin. You felt the weight of his body on yours. And your breathing got harder.

You felt him shift, just a bit, on top of you, as if trying not to crush you and you inhaled and his scent filled your lungs.

You felt a light touch on your cheek. The fingertips of his free hand caressed your face.

“I'll sleep in the bed with you, if you promise me not to cry over that douchebag anymore,” his voice low, as he spoke those words, moving his lips so close hovering over yours. His eyes held your gaze. You nodded softly. And he got up and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

You kept lying on your back, just for some seconds, unable to move, still feeling his fingertips on your cheek, his body's weight pressing you down, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

But then the bed tilted and you looked to the side, seeing that Rafe was getting into the bed, and you moved to make room for him.

You lay on your side, facing him as he pulled the blanket over you. His face once again close to yours, just for some seconds.

“Night, y/n.”

“Good night, Rafe.”

He turned on his back and switched off the lights. You turned to the other side and closed your eyes, focused on his breathing. You felt your own heart beating so rapidly at first, but after some time, you got calmer and were able to relax.

You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up, you felt Rafe's body close behind yours, his arm loosely wrapped around you. You smelled his dark scent so intensely, felt his heat getting under your shirt. You felt his breath at the back of your head and a light shiver was running down your spine.

“Rafe?” You softly whispered his name, but he must have been fast asleep. He didn't answer, didn't move.

Carefully you placed your hand on his, your fingertips feeling along his long fingers.

He didn't move. His breathing still so calm.

His chest was pressing against your back and you could feel his regular heartbeat. It felt so familiar. You felt so safe.

And yet you couldn't stay still.

You bit your lips and moved, just a bit, arching your back, moving your butt back, pressing it against his crotch.

His breathing remained calm, telling you, he was still asleep, still unaware of what you were doing.

And you moved your butt just a little bit more and you felt him, felt him so prominently, you gasped in surprise. That tingling you felt turned into something hotter and you felt your core pulsing all of a sudden. You were breathing through your opened mouth as you felt this heat rushing through your body.

But Rafe was still breathing calmly, he was still asleep.

You felt him stir behind you, felt how hard he was, poking against your ass.

His palm was on your lower stomach. You felt it move under your hand. His calm breathing so close to your ear.

His hand moved down, moved over the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing, and the pressure made you gasp and push back a little more.

You let go off his hand, but grasped the sheets. You tried to calm your breathing, but you were panting as you felt his fingers move under your shirt, felt his warm touch on your burning skin.

You couldn't see anything but you pressed your eyes shut nonetheless as his fingers slipped into your panties. They touched your heat, touched your most sensitive parts.

You let out a small whimper and your back arched further.

You listened, but he was so calm, so still, as if he was still asleep, and only his fingers were moving. And they moved between your legs. His fingers gently parting your folds.

You pressed your mouth shut, but you were sure that embarrassingly whining sound could be heard in the darkness of the room.

His fingertip rubbed your pearl and your body reacted, tensing up as you felt this incredible hot need literally throbbing.

You felt his breath so close to your ear and it sent a different kind of shiver through your body.

One finger slipped inside you, and you clenched around it hard. But he pushed deeper and you gasped. And you didn't know how but you were so wet, it made it easy for him to add another finger, though you pressed your legs tightly together.

For a moment, his digits just remained there, inside you, not moving. So very still like the rest of his body.

Then you felt his hard cock pressing against your ass, the length between your cheeks. And as if following some instinct, you rocked your hips, rubbed against him, creating more friction, creating more heat that made you shiver.

His fingers started moving inside you, pushing deeper, curling, and finding a spot that made you outright moan, and unable to suppress that sound.

His thumb pressed hard on your pearl, teasing you and sending hot bolts of pure need through your body. And your body was on heat, there was no other way to describe it. Every cell of your body was aching for his touch now. And he touched you, so good, so intensely, so determined.

You were moaning and whimpering as his fingers opened you up, made you spread your legs, urging him to go deeper, pushing against his thrusts, and pressing against his hardness.

You felt your climax building up quickly as his fingers pushed harder, moved deeper and more ruthlessly inside you, taking you.

You felt his hot lips on your neck as you pushed your head back, your body convulsing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, but you weren't sure if you were trying to stop him – or if you even could.

His thumb rubbing your most sensitive pearl, making you clamp your walls around his fingers, you couldn't have stopped it, it was almost as if he was forcing that orgasm into you and you gave in, gave in willingly and with everything you had, everything you were, letting that wave of pure pleasure roll over you. Moaning shamelessly, your body trembling as his fingers fucked you through an overwhelming climax.

You lay there, panting, sweat covering your body, and you were still feeling dizzy from the aftermath of that amazing orgasm, when you felt a shiver of cold. He lifted the blanket off of you. And before you could ask why, you felt his hand on your thigh and he lifted up your leg. And before you could wonder what he was up to, you felt his fingers push your soaking wet panties to the side. And before you could really grasp what was going on, you felt his hard cock push inside you from behind.

You cried out as you were stretched by his thickness.

His hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries, as he pushed deeper, pushed his whole length into you. You felt like he was splitting you in two, he was so big, pushing so hard, but at the same time this was all you wanted, all your body was craving for.

Your body shook from his hard thrusts, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close, making you feel his rapid heartbeat, making you feel him, so intensely, you forgot where you ended and where he began. You felt as if you were melting into him as he took you with long hard thrusts, took you as if you were only his.

And when you felt his hot cum spilling inside you, your body convulsed so hard around him, making him gasp into your ear and you came again, and he was fucking you through another high, this time not as fierce, but even more intense as you felt this connection with him, something you had never felt before.

You were still panting and your body was trembling as he rolled you around and took you in his arms. His lips kissing your face, tasting your sweat, tasting your tears.

“You're one of my sluts now.”

You froze as you heard his dark whisper.

“What?” You moved your head back to look at him though it was too dark to make out his features.

“I said, go back to sleep now,” he said, softly. And kissed your forehead, before cradling you in his strong arms. Your head resting against his shoulder, as he held you. Held you close.

a/n: Thank you for reading. This was probably much sweeter than what I usually write. I hope you enjoyed it. All feedback is very much appreciated.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #smut fic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe obx #rafe fic

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dilatorywriting · 7 months

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“I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

For the event, can I request Malleus for this? I need to send ALL my love to him ASAP. Although for this, feel free to have him being the one saying it to reader.

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt 51: "I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

There was something about being in love with a fae that would always be at least a little intimidating.

No, it wasn’t the unearthly powers that could literally rip through the fabric of time and space with a snap of his fingers. No, it wasn’t the cold, serpentine stare or the sharp fangs in his mouth that shined like well-polished knives under the right light. It wasn’t even the horns. Even though they added an extra foot onto the dragon’s already stupidly impressive height.

But there were other things, sometimes. Less tangiblethings.

You tried not to think about it too much, because you loved Tsunotarou. Really, you did. And you didn’t want some… some creeping thing at the fringes of your consciousness to ruin that.

It was cold tonight, and you puffed warm breath onto your fingers. Normally Malleus was the one waiting for you to arrive at your usual Gargoyle Filled haunts, but he’d had a meeting with his retainers today. And you weren’t surprised he was running a bit late in the aftermath.

‘Man, I’m surprised Draconia is ever on time for anything,’ Ace had complained, during some mandatory assembly or other. Watching as Malleus floated into the room a solid two hours after scheduled.

‘He’s usually very punctual,’ you’d answered, confused.

‘Sure, sure. But don’t fae have, like, super fucked up senses of time?’ the redhead mused. ‘Like I bet you could tell him to meet you in an hour and he’d show up a week later or something.’

“Child of man,” a familiar timbre called out over the snow, and you perked up immediately, hopping from foot to foot to get your circulation going again before trotting out to meet him halfway.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped. “How was your day?”

“Dreadful,” he answered, deadpan, and bent his arm neatly so that you could tuck your fingers into the crook of his elbow and snuggle yourself into his side. He was like a walking furnace, what with the roaring, emerald fires in his belly. And the snowflakes seemed to melt before they’d even touched his skin. “Nothing but paperwork. Perhaps I should turn them all into enchanted quills, and then they might finally be fit for their positions.”

You snorted into your glove. “You’d need to turn some of them into ink then, too.”

“Ah, of course,” he intoned. And then shot you a smirk that was just on the right side of besotted. “Whatever would I do without your wise guidance?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, and then smiled right back in that stupidly, soppy way. “But you seemed more than smart enough to manage on your own before I came along. And I’m sure you’ll go back to being brilliant when I’m gone,” you added on a laugh.

But Malleus didn’t join in your giggling.

The fae stopped in place, and you were dragged to a halt with him. You blinked up at him, confused. His expression was… complicated.

“You are leaving?” he asked, each word sounding like it had to be pried out of his mouth with a crowbar.

“What?” you blinked. “Of course not.” Crowley never having bothered to lift a feathery finger to find you a way home aside, you had more than enough reasons to stay here for as long as your meager, mortal life would allow. Going home… it soured something in your stomach that you didn’t even want to consider. So you just tightened your fingers around his arm and shot him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster. “Even if I had the choice, I’d be staying right here.”

But that just made Malleus’s brow pinch up tighter.

“Then what did you mean?” he questioned, perplexed. “When you said ‘when I’m gone.’”

Ah.

You fought a guilty wince. You hadn’t wanted to drag your own little terrors into his worries as well. You really needed to get a better leash on the poor quips that managed to tumble out of your mouth.

“Well, just that, uhm…” You waved your free hand awkwardly. “You know.”

More furrowing.

“I do not,” he said, sounding grumpy. It was a bit adorable, seeing an almighty prince and near God pout at you. But you fought off the urge to coo over his pursed lips and scrunched nose. Time and place, self. Time and place.

“I’m mortal,” you said finally, hoping that would cover it.

“And?”

Ugh. Come on, dude. Give me something here.

You shrugged, tight and awkward. “Just that, well, you know. Your lifespan is near infinite right? And mine is sort of set to be…” You held up your fingers and pinched them close together. “Uhm. Not that.”

“And you think that such an inconsequential factor means that you will be leaving me?” he asked, and you blinked at him in outright confusion.

“It’s pretty consequential,” you squeaked out, and averted your gaze. “And.. and besides. I knew that from the beginning. And I just want to be able to make the best out of the time with you that I have,” you said, hoping it sounded properly reassuring and not like the start of a particularly peppy obituary.

“…I see,” the Prince said, low. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be gone, I’m sure.”

You blinked again, owlish and slow.

“Pardon?”

“What is the human expression…?” he hummed, tucking your arm back tightly against his side and starting up your leisurely stroll once more. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Almost so much as time itself.”

Yeah, you wanted to amend. But not from beyond the grave.

“I guess so,” you shrugged.

“Can you imagine then,” he hummed. “How much I’ll love you in a thousand years?”

“I—” you swallowed, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes.

But rather than give your poor, fluttering soul a chance to recover, he just pushed onwards.

“I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I suppose that I’ll just love you even more,” he said, perfectly level and serious, like he hadn’t just absolutely pulled your heart out of your chest and set the whole of you on fire.

You stared up at his regal, handsome face from beneath a soft veil of falling snow. With those cold, emerald eyes, the pointed fangs, the horns. You felt like your stomach had fallen out at your toes, like the whole of you was bound to float away like a balloon lost in the breeze. Because he’d said—he’d really—

“And of course,” the dragon shrugged. “I’ve always intended to extend your lifespan to begin with.”

You gaped at him wordlessly for a moment, before letting out a hideously embarrassed squawk and pounding at his chest with your gloved hands.

“You could’ve told me that!” you shrieked, practically steaming in the cold with the heat pulsing off your cheeks.

“I suppose,” he smirked, catching your flailing fists easily in one of his own large hands. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction to my declarations, would I?” he cooed, all smooth, dark chocolate and smoky embers. “And I had to work so hard to memorize those lines. Fitting as they are, I was told that the moment to use them would have to be perfect, and—"

“Did Lilia set you up for this?” you choked.

Malleus snorted and turned to tug you further down the path. “Only a little.”

#4k Event #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #My Writing #Writing Prompts

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slasherbvnnie · 1 year

Text

Until We Found You | Part IV

Welcome back! This time we have the second ghostface smut. Part V will be out later tonight, but no smut! Just some pure angst and fluff. As always, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+, P in V, Fingering, Oral female!receiving, Overall smut

Part I Part II Part III Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Word Count: 2673

You had a good five seconds on campus before someone finally noticed. Before you even made eye contact with her for the first time that day, Tatum let out the biggest gasp she had ever made and grabbed your shoulder. “And who did you spend your night with,” she asked as you immediately blushed, covering up your hickey with your palm. “None of your business, tate,” you said as Stu laughed and put his arm around Tatum’s waist. “Maybe Randy finally got his shot, I mean with how scared you must be about the killer, maybe he offered some protection for you,” Stu joked as Billy laughed.

“Don’t get the dork all worked up, Stu, you might put one too many ideas in that perverted brain of his,” Billy said as Randy rolled his eyes. “I can confirm it was not me, sadly, one of us actually has a job instead of living off student loan refunds,” Randy said as the group put their attention back on you. “Well, whoever mauled you better show up at the mall after class today. I wanna see who gave you that, you know, to vet them or whatever,” Tatum said as Sidney nodded. “Yeah, and then we’ll get on their case for mauling you,” she added, making you laugh.

Your day was mostly spent around nervously tiptoeing around the girls questioning you on who you spent the night with. You had talked to other people on campus that didn’t include your little friend group but had never shown interest in them, so they questioned you on any and every one they knew to see who it was. “Okay, what about the guy who almost hit you with that football last week, Kyle? Kit? Kaleb.” Tatum recalled, “Kevin, and no,” you answered simply as Sidney took a stab at it. “Nah, it has to be Oliver,” she suggested, making you pause and show a gross look. “One of my biggest bullies in high school? No thanks,” you shrugged as Billy turned his gaze to you, Stu looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

“Bully?” Billy questioned as you nodded. Throughout most of school you had been bullied, not really by one group in particular but there were enough to only leave you with Casey as one of your only friends until senior year. It stopped when college came around, no one cared enough to bully someone they spent one hour a day with. “Yeah, he always bullied me, ever since second grade. At first everyone thought he liked me because they thought being mean to someone was how you showed a crush but after this one time he faked asking me out in high school just to stand me up, it came kinda clear he hated me,” you explained with a little bitter laugh, going silent when you noticed the awkwardness.

Billy’s face was stone cold, but you could tell in his eyes that he was angered. “It’s fine, I’m over it now, but yeah, definitely not someone I would let sleep with me,” you said as you looked away, not noticing the glance that Stu and Billy shared. “Is he still a dick to you?” Stu asked as you laughed, “I guess? I dunno, I find it more funny that he’s still got a grudge against me for some reason, but at least he doesn’t try to pull my hair anymore,” you said jokingly.

“How about we go in there?” Tatum suggested as you and Sidney both shared a laugh, “what? You have a mystery date and you might want a cute outfit for Billy sometime,” Tate said as you and Sidney looked to each other before looking at the boys. “How about you two run off for a bit instead of being giant pervs, we’ll meet up again at the food court,” you suggested as Billy and Stu were quick to agree. Their rapid head shakes made you all rile up with laughter, smiling and heading into the store together.

“Sooo, what’s your mystery dates favorite color?” Tate asked as you smiled, “I don’t know actually, that’s a good question,” you hummed as you looked at the different choices of lingerie that lined the store. “I think they like any color really,” you said as you spotted a red laced set, it was a bralette styled top that had strips running down the side to connect to the underwear. Sidney noticed where your eyes lingered and laughed, “they’re kinky, huh?” She joked as you laughed and nodded, “really,” you agreed. You picked through the outfit to find your size, wondering if ghostface would like it, you guessed they probably would enjoy the blood red color of it.Later that night you were in your bathroom, glad that your parents had left to have dinner at your grandparents, which they did very hesitantly given the incident a few days ago. When you reassured that with all your friends only a few blocks away and access to cars, as well as the marvelous creation of phones to dial 911, they let you be.

You found yourself looking in the mirror as you checked yourself out for the 100th time in the lingerie you had bought. You blushed and wondered if your masked killer would enjoy the outfit, running your hand slowly across the lace fabric. You heard a noise from outside, quickly throwing on a tshirt- one you didnt care about if ruined again- and pj shorts before heading out into your bedroom.

You peeked over your window to see nothing, frowning to yourself before sighing and taking a seat on your bed. But when you were met with the back of the costumed body looking over your vanity you let out a small scream, making them turn to you. “Jesus christ you scared me!” You yelled at them before relaxing, “no window climbing this time?” You asked as they shook their head, continuing to look around the room. You noticed their little glances around the room, curious as to why they were studying it. They turned towards you once more, walking over to you and looking you over. They were less aggressive than last time, using two fingers to tilt your head up to them. Their fingers were warm, which caught you off guard, just yesterday they were cold to the touch.

“There’s two of you?” You questioned, their demeanor changing quickly as they grabbed your chin. “I-I don’t know who you are, i swear. It’s just- y-your touch…” you spoke quickly, trailing off as their grip loosened. “The last one was cold, kinda felt like a corpse,” you said jokingly, “and you’re warm…plus you keep looking around like you haven’t been here before.” You said to them, their touch going back to just gently holding your chin up. They moved away from you, going back to your vanity and grabbing a small black bag, bringing it over to you. You blinked in surprise, looking up to them before they gestured to open it. You reached into the bag, pulling out a piece of paper that was torn, giggling at the words that were printed onto it. ‘Sorry about the last guy :(‘

“See? I would have figured it was two of you anyways,” you said as they shook their head. You smiled, reaching back into the bag and looking at your two new Carrie shirts. One was in the style as your previous one, the other a different one but still in the correct size. “I didn’t think I would actually be treated to a new shirt,” you admitted, hearing a chuckle from them. You didn’t say it out loud, but your heart was filled with joy knowing these two masked killers, regardless of not knowing them, were being so kind and caring towards you. You swooned, noticing how different the two seemed. The other one scared you a little, not really knowing their true intentions, but this one seemed so much more gentle and sweet with you. “I um, I also had a little surprise for you,” you said, noticing how they perked up at your words.

A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked up to them, adjusting yourself before sitting up on your knees. “but you’ll have to take my clothes off first to see it, mr. ghostface.” you whispered out, which made them grab you by the waist and lay you down on the bed. They didn’t take out the knife, instead their hands darted to the hem of your shirt and lifted it up to reveal the red lingerie underneath. A small groan left them as they quickly worked on taking off your shorts, making you giggle at the rush in their actions. You let out a little whimper as they groped you, aware now of how unintentionally strong their grip was. They squeezed your breast that was covered in the lace, their other hand roaming up and down your side. The lack of their touch made you whine out, pouting up at them before they moved to grab the final thing from the bag. A new blindfold, one dedicated just for you. They were quick to tie it, making sure you didn’t see through it by waving in front of you.

All you heard was a little thump of the mask and them struggling to take their gloves off before you heard the rest of their clothing thump to the ground. Before you could even take in a breath you felt their hand already cupping your core, their lips attacking the part of your breasts that were left uncovered from the lingerie. They roamed around before their lips were now on your neck, creating a new hickey right above the old one. You moaned softly, a shaky hand reaching to grab their arm.You could feel their muscles contract and tighten at the touch but when you made no movement to touch elsewhere, they quickly calmed down and continued their lust filled attack on you. They teased you over the lace panties you wore, their smirk growing as you let out little huffs and moans. The bed lifted, their frame no longer causing it to dip and your hand was left holding nothing, a small pout made its way to your agitated frown as their touch left you. After a moment you gasped, feeling their hands spreading your legs apart as they placed gentle kisses onto your inner thighs.

It was the first time you felt the blade, but they didn’t trail it across your skin like the other, instead they used it to make you exposed to them. Another whine left you, “you owe me a new outfit again, this was brand new,” you whined, they responded with a nip to your inner thigh, not doing anything else before diving into you.Your back arched on impact, their tongue on your clit as they spread you open with their thumbs. “fuck,” you moaned out, your thighs closing around their head to lock them in place in pure instinct. They were skilled at this, eventually finding the perfect pace that had you shaking and squirming. Every time you tried to shimmy up and get away from the pleasure, their large hands wrapped around your thighs from behind and pulled you back down onto their face. You weren’t even aware of how many minutes had passed before your thighs were shaking, only being held up by their grip. “Wait, fuck, you’re-“ the breath was knocked out of your lungs as they entered their middle finger into you, their pace matching that of their tongue as they thrusted it in and out of you.

A loud moan left your lips as you came, whines and whimpers erupting from your chest as their ministrations didn’t stop. “Please, please, ‘s too much,” you pleaded, clawing at your bedsheets as they just hooked their arm around your thigh and pulled you down back onto their face once more. It was practically like a scene from the Exorcist as you came again, your back arching off of the bed as you nearly let out a scream from all the pleasure. This time they slowly pulled away after you came down from your high, lapping at you one last time before pulling away and hovering over you. Your chest heaved as you did your best to catch your breath, smiling softly at the gentle kiss they placed onto you. You felt them snake their hand into yours, making you giggle as they wrapped their fingers in the spaces between your own. A smile curled onto their lips when they heard your laugh, growing even wider when you let out a moan as their free hand went back to your entrance. They still held your hand as they pulled back a little, your legs spreading more as you felt them running their tip along your slit.

At every swipe to your clit you let out a moan, gasping when they entered you. Within a second their lips were attacking your neck again, earning whines and moans from every bite, lick, and thrust that they tortured your body with. The pleasure was dizzying, you had never really gone so many rounds with someone before, the recovery time was practically nothing with how fast your climax was building up again. They were more gentle, their free hand roaming over the bralette you still had on, teasing your nipples over the fabric as they littered your skin in love bites. You were already regretting Tatum’s and Sidney’s teases about them tomorrow but for now, you accepted your fate.

Their pace was quick but managed to hit all your sweet spots, their hand that held yours was gripping you so tightly their knuckles turned white, which only brought you closer to the edge. Their free hand found its way to your clit again, rubbing it in time with their thrusts to completely overwhelm you. Your orgasm washed over you hard, the seconds felt like they lasted a lifetime as you did your best to come down from your high, but their continued sloppy thrusts didn’t help one bit. A loud whine left you as they came, biting into your neck to cover up their moan. They pulled out slowly, letting go of your hand and kissing you once again. Unlike the other ghostface, they laid down in the bed with you, pulling you against their chest. You accepted the invitation, resting against their chest and listening to their heartbeat as you recovered from your orgasm.

“Next time…do- uh,” you spoke softly, a bit shy to get your thoughts out into words. You felt their fingertips tracing your jaw, relaxing as their thumb ran over your lips. “Do you think the both of you could come by next time? You- uh, you don’t have to but…” you trailed off as they kissed you, feeling their head move in a nod. You smiled, heart fluttering with excitement knowing both of them would be alone with you. “And don’t forget the new lingerie set, please,” you requested with a little laugh. It was an hour later, ghostface gone and you freshly showered and dressed in your pajamas again.

Your phone rang, seeing Sidney’s caller id and answering quickly. “Hey, have you seen any of the police cars pass by?” She asked as you looked out your window, “no, how come?” You asked as Sidney sighed. “Oliver, the neighbors said they heard screaming and shit breaking and when police got there they said he was dead,” she said as you frowned. “Do they know if it was the killer?” You asked, “yeah, neighbors said they saw him running off. They tried going after them but they couldn’t catch up.” She told you, you sighing and shaking your head. “That’s so creepy…” you said, thinking back to the conversation you all were having earlier that day. You couldn’t help but wonder if ghostface was stalking you, if they already knew you and your past.

#poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #scream au #poly!ghostface x female reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream #scream1996 #billy x stu x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #poly!ghostface smut #smut #fluff #angst

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lola-la-cava · 11 months

Text

Met ‘23

Timothée Chalamet x Reader

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Y-yeah, don’t even worry about it. Who needs air?. Just… keep going” I say as they continue to tighten the corset. I grip my waist, sucking up as much air as I can.

All of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice tsk. The women helping me with my dress backs up, causing the piece of clothing to loosen.

“Did she put you up to this?”, he asked the woman. She nodded.

“Traitor!”

He laughs at my quip and comes up to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful”

Timothée looks me up and down, examining the dress and taking my hand to twirl me. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” I giggle.

The curly haired boy gasped, “Half bad? Come on! Give me a little more credit!”

“Ah fine! You look gorgeous!” I praise, getting my body close to his to pull him in for a needed kiss.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done yet! Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, huh, lover boy?” my make-up artist comes to pull us apart and retouching my lipstick.

“How could I?” he stared at me with a love sick stare that I didn’t quite notice at the time.

Timothée hears a quick snap!from the camera. He whips his head around to see one of the photographers catch the perfect moment.

“Whoops” the guy shrugged.

“You people are sickening!” my assistant screamed from the other side of the room.

Timothée answers back, “Jealous much, Meg?”

“Ha. ha.” she teased. “I happen to enjoy being all alone, thank you very much”

I playfully roll my eyes at her antics. “Yeah, sureee”

“Aaalright, Y/N you’re set!” She pats my cheek as I look at her with grateful eyes.

Timothée’s arms wrap around my front once again as soon as she let go. His head resting on my shoulder, kissing my neck

“I just hope lover boy here doesn’t ruin your make-up”

“No promises” he giggles as he playfully placed wet kisses on the side of my head.

“I swear, you will never hear the end from me if you do” she warns him.

“Now, get on out there. Tons of people are expecting you”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Ah, the calm before the storm.

Well, as calm as it can get. Which was not very.

They stood in the line before getting their pictures taken. Celebrities in extravagant clothing surrounded them. Some familiar faces present that Y/N took note to say hello to later on.

Y/N smoothed over her dress and brought her hand up to fix her hair again. Timothée noticing this, he interrupted her movement and took her hand. He squeezed it three times before kissing it.

I love you.

She took her hand back and grabbed her phone from a discreet pocket on the dress.

She scrolled aimlessly through social media, trying to get feeling of impending doom of my mind.

Her eye catches a random headline from an entertainment news update account. It read:

‘Timothée Chalamet and Kylie Jenner hard launching their relationship at tonight’s Met Gala? Y/N Y/L/N left in the dust?’

She lets out an obnoxious scoff. Timmy hearing it, he looks at her screen, reading the obviously made-up headline.

“God, they’re still on that?”

He notices his partner’s silence. “Come on. You’re not really bothered by this, are you?”

She opened her mouth to say something. No words came out. She merely shrugged.

He gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a bear hug. Timothée rested his head on hers as she got close to his chest, hearing the comforting beat of his heart that never failed to comfort her.

The couple stayed like that. “Trust me, mon coeur. I wouldn’t have this any other way. I’m perfect where I am and who I’m with”

“Shit, I actually might cry. I never know what to say when you say this sappy shit”, Y/N chuckles as she puts her hand up to mess with his styled hair.

Feeling her hand creeping his back, Timmy pulls away and bows. “I aim to please you. It’s my sole purpose in life”

A smile instantly appeared on her face and butterflies in her stomach. Nothing had definitely changed from when they first started going out. Same sparks, same chemistry, same tension. Whatever you wanna call it. It was there. They had it.

She tugged on his hand, pulling him in for one more kiss. Y/N looked at him, looking over the features she admired so much that she practically memorized them. Her gaze lands on his lips.

Some of her lipstick and gloss had transferred to his lips. She quickly tried to get the makeup off. “Shit, wait hold on. You have some-“

He smacks her hand away. “No, no. Keep it.” He rubbed his lips together getting the substance to cover all ground.

“Y/N Y/L/N and Timothée Chalamet? They’re ready for you.”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Right now, I’m here with everyone’s favourite couple, Timothée Chalamet and Y/N Y/L/N” Emma, the interviewer, spoke with enthusiasm.

We’d just finished the carpet and were almost home free. Camera flashes blinded my vision as I tried not to close my eyes throughout the whole thing. Screams of my name were heard throughout the venue. Meddlesome questions and controlling demands to pose a certain way were yelled. To which, I didn’t respond to. Why should I? I maintained my balance by holding onto Timothée. You’d think after a few years, you’d get used to the bordering aggressive personalities you have to deal with every single day.

It turns out not really.

“How does it feel to be back? I mean, you guys have gone before, but how does it feel to be here as the quote-unquote, it couple?”

Me and Timmy both give awkward chuckles as we heard the last two words.

“Uh- I really don’t know about that last part, but it just feels great to share such a meaningful moment with him. I’ve personally dreamed of attending since I first saw it as a kid and to be invited for the second time… It’s just… yea”, I answer, not being able to expound on the statement.

Emma hums and gains back the mic.

“So, rumors have been swirling about the internet that actually said othewise. Do you have anything to say about that?” She points the microphone at Timothée this time, definitely hinting at the Kylie rumors.

He seems taken aback by the question, not knowing what to say and the only thing I’m able to do was squeeze his hand. Three times.

I love you.

Emma realizes this with a regretful look on her face. She leans toward both of us as she moves the mic away.

“It’s totally fine if you guys aren’t comfortable. We could just mov-“

He takes the mic, she gives him a grateful small smile.

“No, I uh, me and Y/N have actually seen a handful of tweets about this and I just wanna set the record straight and say we are very much still together”, he nods as he hands the microphone back to her.

“I think I’m right by saying that this has definitely relieved viewrs at home and me.” We laugh genuinely at her quip.

I imagine people on Twitter have stopped adding fuel to the fire after what he said and can have a better goodnight’s sleep later in the evening.

“And that’s our time. I’ll see you lovebirds inside! Have a great time together!”

We both shook her hand and left with an indebted expression for keeping it mellow (for the most part) after such a nerve-wracking red carpet.

“Very professional with that answer, Chalamet”, I hook my arms with his and leaned on his shoulder.

“Of course, ‘gotta remind everyone you’re still my girl”, he says with a smug smirk.

I laugh, “Your girl? I suppose that means you’re my boy?”

He playfully rolls his eyes. “Come on! As if you didn’t know that from the beginning”

“Ohhh, I know. I just wanted to hear it from your mouth!”

#timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x y/n #timmy chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothee chalamet fluff #timothee chalamet imagines

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | gif credit

chapter summary: Somehow, you realize you've accidentally ended up spending almost every weekend for the last month and a half with either one, or all of the Millers. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 8.7k chapter warnings: some angst, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts (but no smut), referenced parental neglect, implied age gap. reader has daddy issues (shocker!) & a fear of intimacy. a/n: this chapter is so disgustingly sweet it might give you a cavity. truly. but its also a little self-indulgent because joel is in my dream blunt rotation :/ please be patient with updates because i have a career/social life/apartment, and am a perfectionist! i promise i will always (try) to make the wait worth your while. Also, here's a link to the song Joel plays on guitar, since it's not on Spotify so I couldn't add it to the playlist.

-April 19, 2003-

“Well, that was awkward.”

Obviously, Joel thinks to himself as Sarah turns to watch the retreating form of her teacher, while Joel stares straight ahead at the crowd in front of him. At first, he had thought she was just being polite. It was the right thing to do, to say hello to a parent and a student if you see them outside of class. But…they were seeing each other at a bar. And she’d asked him to dance.

We just got here, maybe later? Joel can’t even remember what he had said, something along those lines. It wasn’t a flat-out refusal, but he had been acutely aware of Sarah’s eyes boring into the back of his head from where she sat beside him, and he sort of blacked out, couldn’t recall what had caused her to get the hint, to walk away.

Joel grunts an affirmation to Sarah, and drums his fingers against the tabletop. There’s a dance floor full of people in front of him, all under various levels of intoxication, all of them dancing.

“Do you believe me now?” Sarah asks.

“I never said I didn’t believe you.”

How he had allowed Tommy and Sarah to talk him into coming here tonight, he’s not sure. Probably, it had something to do with how much he loved them both. How he would, ultimately, do whatever they asked if he knew it’d make that happy. But still, honky-tonking is the last thing he wants to be doing at the end of a long week.

There was pretty much only one decent bar in town, so he wasn’t exactly shocked he had run into someone he knew. Everyone came here – to dance, to drink, to eat, or to drown their sorrows. To see their friends, or even to find someone to take home for the night. And over the years, as a frequent customer, Joel had used this place to do all those things.

Tonight was special though, a little more family friendly. It was swing night. It happened once a month, and Joel had always made a point to take Sarah a couple times a year. When he was young, his mother had taught him and Tommy to dance, and he felt it was only appropriate to pass the skill along, even if it was almost obsolete. He hoped Sarah would be able to do the same someday, if she ever had children of her own.

“Will you dance with me, at least?” Sarah asks.

“Of course I will,” Joel answers.. “But let’s wait for Tommy, he’s ordering our drinks.”

“You mean your drinks.”

“No, you got a Shirley Temple.”

Sarah narrows her eyes. It’s the same expression that Joel has only seen her use recently, and he actually prefers it less to the eye roll. This time, he’s glad it hasn’t come with a question from her, because when it does, it’s always a little more frightening. “Come on, you know that’s not the same.”

Before Joel can respond, he’s cut off by Tommy’s voice.

“Look who I found.”

This is what he and Sarah have been waiting on, and Joel turns to sees Tommy with all three of their drinks in hand. Over his shoulder, there’s a woman who looks vaguely familiar, wearing daisy dukes and a plaid shirt. After a second, he realizes it’s you.

Most of the time when Joel sees you – from across the street, of course – you’re in a power suit, a pencil skirt. Sometimes, it’s more casual – athletic clothes. There was also that black silk robe he can’t seem to shake from his memory. But this is so…different. It’s clear you’re trying to blend in with the crowd, but you don’t. Not because you’re not pulling it off – you definitely are, effortlessly – he’s just pretty sure if he walks into any room you’re in, his eyes will always be drawn in your direction.

Joel doesn’t see, but rather feels – Sarah recognize that you’re in front of her, because when she does, she’s tapping him on the arm before he can utter a greeting. “Dad, can I get out and say hi?”

He’s standing to let her out just as you step closer to the table, and you come chest to chest. “Hey,” he says.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes remain locked on his just a moment too long, before Sarah is wrapping you up in a hug, and you’re focused on her when she draws back. “How are you?” you ask.

Joel doesn’t hear Sarah’s response, because his brother is pressing a drink into his hand - a Jack and Coke, same as what you and Tommy are drinking.

“Sit down, please!” Tommy encourages.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “This looks like a family thing, I don’t want to-”

“Please!” Sarah exclaims.

“What she said,” Tommy seconds Sarah’s sentiments.

For a second, you seem to contemplate the offer, and then you accept the invitation, sliding into the booth across from where Sarah has settled back next to her father. Joel makes eye contact with his brother, sitting next to you. Tommy’s eyebrows are raised suggestively, and there’s a playful smirk on his face when he tilts his head in your direction. Joel gives him nothing, already irritated by his brother’s goading.

“Is that a Shirley Temple?” you point to Sarah’s drink. When she nods, you continue. “I haven’t had one of those in forever,” you say.

“Want a sip?”

“Sure,” Sarah slides the glass across to you, and you sip from the straw, pondering. “I should’ve gotten one of those instead. They were my favorite growing up.”

“Can I have a sip of yours?”

“No,” you and Joel say at the same time.

“You’re not gonna like it,” he adds.

“You always say that, but how can you know?”

Joel sighs. “Okay, fine. Try mine.”

Sarah seems pleased to get what she wants. When the bitterness of the whiskey registers, the triumphant expression leaves her face completely.

“Told you,” he says. Sarah grimaces, accepting defeat, and returns to her beverage.

Tommy leans forward, urging Joel to start making conversation as if this is a date and it’s his responsibility. But before he can think of anything, Sarah pipes up.

“Guess what?” she asks you.

“What?”

“My teacher’s here.”

“Yeah?” you ask. Joel takes a long pull off his drink, hoping it’ll loosen him up a little.

“Yeah, she tried to hit on my dad.”

Joel feels the cocktail of whiskey and soda get caught in his throat.

“Oh….” you sound intrigued, and you lean forward. He wonders if this is the dynamic between you and Sarah when he’s not around. Like you’re two friends, engaging in some harmless gossip. “Really?” Your gaze flickers between him and Sarah.

Sarah bobs her head once. “She has a thing for him. I can tell.”

“What makes you think that?” his brother joins in, moving closer to Sarah, crowding you between himself and the wall and putting his elbows on the table. Joel feels a flash of envy when you shift your attention towards Tommy.

“She just asked him to dance.” Sarah looks over her shoulder, nods her head towards the woman in the corner of the bar who’s probably already focused on his table anyways. Joel already knows what you’re seeing. Miss Davis is pretty, bubbly, outgoing. Probably about your age, if he had to guess, though it’s hard to say how old you are. He imagines he has ten years on you, give or take a few. And for all intents and purposes, Sarah’s teacher is the type of woman he should be interested in.

“She’s pretty,” you say it like you’re appeasing Sarah, but you’re looking directly at Joel. He’s not sure why you kind of frighten him a little. You’re sweet, he knows, even if you’ve tried to tell him otherwise. But there’s something else there, enigmatic and alluring, that continues to draw him in.

Tommy chimes in. “So are you gonna dance with her, Joel?”

“Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says dramatically. Her face drops for a second, though, her shoulders slumping as she angles herself towards him, lowers her voice. “I mean, if you want to, that’s fine, I guess. But I….I don’t know.”

Joel is taken aback by how long this conversation has gone on with absolutely no input from himself. Not to mention how honest Sarah is being. She doesn’t usually have much to say about his choice in women – he can usually just tell what she thinks. For her to express something so directly makes him realize how serious she is. But at the moment, he can’t find words to assure her everything will be fine.

It must be his lack of response that causes you to lean across the table and speak to Sarah. “You know, that’s valid,” there’s a tenderness to your tone. It dawns on him that you’re trying to comfort her. “It is kind of a conflict of interest.”

“Right?” Sarah perks up, just slightly, you’ve given her some support. “It’s one of those things you said you had going on at work the other day an….an ethical…”

“An ethical dilemma?” you finish her thought.

“Ethical dilemma! That’s it.” Sarah turns back towards Joel. “I think it's an ethical dilemma.”

For just a split second, he wonders why he’s been letting his already-precocious child hang out regularly with a lawyer. He’s accidentally creating a monster. But thankfully, Joel is finally able to find his voice. “There is no ethical dilemma, because I wouldn’t ever consider it.”

That seems to placate Sarah, and hopefully everyone will decide to drop it. Joel catches your eyes, and there’s something akin to wistfulness there, chin propped on your hand, before you blink once and focus back on Tommy, who's asking you a question. “So, are you here alone?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not at all,” Tommy smirks, not dropping his eye contact with you. “...It’s just surprising, is all.”

Joel stiffens.

“Oh, well…” you smile a little. “I’m just trying to get to know the town a little better. Trying to engage in the community, I guess. But…I’m not sure if I am doing that great of a job fitting in.”

“You are,” Joel interjects, and maybe it’s a little forward, but he’d rather say it before Tommy does. “That’s a nice flannel.”

“Thanks,” You look down at your oversized plaid shirt – the sleeves rolled up to the elbows – that hangs open over a tight white tank top. Joel can see a sliver of the black lace bra you’re wearing that pokes out above the low neckline. He wonders what it might feel like to press his face there, to feel your fingers carding through his hair, but does not allow himself to entertain the idea for very long. Not the time. “I actually had to go and buy it because I didn’t own any plaid. And by the looks of it,” You gesture towards the dance floor. “I need to invest in some cowboy boots, too.”

“One thing at a time, right?” he asks, and you agree.

“So what are you all doing here? Family outing?”

“We actually had to drag this one kicking and screaming out the door,” Tommy points to Joel.

“You did not,” Joel defends himself.

‘We kinda did,” Sarah says. “Do you know how to dance?”

You shake your head no, look at the people twirling and dipping and dancing in pairs. “Not like that.”

“It’s really easy! I can teach you. My dad taught me.”

“Cute.” Joel looks towards Sarah, and catches you staring instead. Your eyes flit back immediately to his daughters. “But I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sarah says like it’s already settled. Joel knows he’s spoiled her, that she ultimately gets what she wants. He worries sometimes that others won’t find her quite as endearing.

“Sarah,” he warns. “You’re making it sound like she doesn’t have a choice.”

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass. “It’s okay. You can teach me. Might as well learn, if I’m trying to fit in.”

Sarah seems satisfied.

“Joel tells me you grew up in New York City.” Tommy says it, and Joel notices you raise your eyebrows at the implication. He’s talked to Tommy about you. And now you know. He’s pissed at himself for doing it, but at the time he’d been drunk, a little more chatty and vulnerable than usual, and had mentioned you more than once. Too much to be a coincidence. The issue was, Joel had never expected you would talk to Tommy again. If he’d known you would, he wouldn’t have said anything. He doesn’t want to imagine the damage he had done when it was just the two of you, alone at the bar. But even now, he’s completely at his brother’s mercy.

“Yep,” you nod.

“You don’t have much of an accent,” Tommy remarks.

“Not everyone has them.”

“That’s fair.”

“I did, uh, go to a boarding school in a different state, though, so I wasn’t around it too much.”

“Boarding school?” Sarah turns to Joel.

“Basically you live at school,” you answer her question. ”Kind of like college, but earlier. I started going when I was nine.”

Sarah frowns. “Wouldn’t you miss your family?”

“Yes, and I did.”

“So why would you go?”

“Well…” you trail off, shift your weight. “It wasn’t up to me. My dad worked a lot, so it made sense.”

“What’d he do for a living?” Asks Tommy.

“He’s a criminal defense attorney....owns his own firm and it does pretty well, so…” you shrug. “He was very busy.”

“And that’s why you’re a lawyer? To work for your dad?”

“At one point, that was the plan, yes."

“What happened?”

The question appears to make you uncomfortable, you cross your legs and glance down at the table. “Uhm….pass.” Joel sees your face go blank for a split second before you look up with an easy smile. It’s like the desolate look you’d been wearing was never there, and you point to your drink. “I’ll need a few more of these if you want that story.”

“Might as well order another round,” Tommy flags down a waitress.

You have one more drink, but you don’t really touch it as the four of you continue to talk. Joel has two more, and Tommy has three, because he’s Tommy, and also not driving. Both you and Joel also have to vehemently refuse his request to do a round of tequila shots.

After a while, Sarah gets bored, then insists on teaching you to dance. You agree, but seem awfully reluctant. Joel wants to pull you aside and let you know that you don’t have to entertain everything Sarah offers, but once you’ve stood up, and he watches her arm link through yours as you both walk to the dance floor, he can’t bring himself to intervene.

He’s never seen Sarah be so taken with someone before, and he’s filled with a vague sense of regret. He always thought that she was content with just him and Tommy. Maybe she has always needed more. It’s partially his responsibility, Joel thinks – what could he have done to stop her mother from leaving? Even if he could’ve stopped it, they would’ve been a miserable couple…which might have been more damaging to Sarah than her mother not being around at all.

Once you’re long gone, Joel can sense what Tommy is thinking before he even opens his mouth.

“Shut it,” Joel says before he can even hear his brother's ribbing.

“I wasn’t even gonna say anything about that!” Tommy raises his hands, but Joel knows he’s lying.

“We should go over there,” Joel says. He trusts you, but in a bar full of drunk people isn’t interested in being far away from Sarah for too long. Both he and Tommy abandon their booth to mosey their way towards the dance floor.

Sarah has taken you into a back corner, far away from the band playing, where the crowd has thinned a little. There’s room for him and Tommy to lean up against the wall and watch you both.

Both your hands are clasped with Sarah’s, and she’s teaching you the counts, the steps, while you study the way that your feet move.

Joel has a feeling that if it weren’t for his daughter, you wouldn’t have hung out with his family for so long. It’s just like the hike, and as usual, he feels more like a third wheel than anything else. You’re right that you do look a little out of place here. Maybe you don’t belong, but he likes it. You’re wearing a pair of beat up hi-tops, which are a sharp contrast to Sarah’s baby blue cowboy boots that are covered in rhinestone butterflies. He’d gotten them for her for Christmas that past year, and she only wore them during special occasions like this.

Joel is doing the best he can not to think about the way your legs look in those fucking daisy dukes. All on display, and he wonders what it might feel like to drag his tongue up the soft skin of your inner thigh, feel you quiver and whimper as he works his mouth closer to– Enough. He’s disgusted with himself for thinking about you like that right now.

“Dad, look!” Sarah says, and it seems you’re catching on all right, but none of it looks graceful. Sarah’s trying to lead – which she has never done – so she falters often, and also can’t quite reach all the way above your head when she tries to spin you around. “Oh no, look at his face!” Sarah points. You turn his direction, and Joel realizes he has to neutralize the grimace that has crept onto his visage. “We definitely aren’t doing good.”

“I’ll get the hang of it,” you turn back to Sarah, assure her. “You’re a good teacher.” You’re being nice. Too nice, humoring her and laughing it off, even if she’s making a fool of you both. But you don’t seem to mind, because it’s making her happy.

All of the sudden, the toe of Sarah’s boot catches on the scuffed wood floor and she lurches forward. Joel immediately pushes himself off the wall as though he could close the space and catch her before she faceplants, but he can’t, and he can already see a vision of himself sitting in the emergency room at 2 a.m waiting, while Sarah holds an ice pack on her nose. But you reach out before the image is fully realized, arms wrapping around her shoulders. “Careful!” You warn. And even though you shuffle forward with the weight of her, you keep her from falling. Once she realizes she’s safe, Sarah giggles and throws her head back, her eyes catching your own.

He’s not sure what makes him do it. It could be the liquor, the way you look, the unspoken pressure from Tommy. Or maybe he’s just been wanting an excuse to be closer to you. Most importantly, at this rate, he feels like Sarah is going to hurt herself and also you in the process. Regardless of what the reason is, Joel decides to step in. He walks onto the dance floor.

“Alright,” Joel says once he’s gotten closer, looking at Sarah. “I can’t watch this anymore.”

“What?”

He halts in front of his daughter, jerks his hand. “Move. I’m takin’ over.”

Sarah rolls her eyes, but smiles a little, and drops her hands from your shoulders. Joel offers you his hand. “You mind?”

You look between Joel and Sarah, and she gives you an encouraging nod. “He taught me, he does know what he’s doing.”

“Well okay,” you take Joel’s hand. “You better not embarrass me,” and then you actually fucking wink at him. Already overwhelmed by the delicate weight of your hand in his palm, it almost sends him over the edge. He’s lucky he’s in public, with his family, because he doesn’t think he’d behave himself otherwise.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Joel answers. “Besides, I don’t think anything could be worse than what I was just watching.”

You giggle, and step forward when he tugs you just closer to dance, taking you fully in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sarah dragging Tommy onto the dance floor. Everyone is taken care of.

You’re smart. And because of it, you’re a fast learner. Even people who can’t really dance can usually figure this out, himself included. But in Joel’s opinion, it’s always been less about getting the steps right, and more about who’s keeping him company.

And you’re great company.

Eager, willing, gentle…soft. He’s embarrassed at how long it’s been since he’s been this close to an adult woman, and normally he might be a little nervous, but instead, he just feels…comfortable.

But Joel is a selfish man. He always wants more. Wants the band to play a slower song, so then he’d have an excuse to pull you closer. Wind an arm around your waist, whisper things in your ear that no one else could hear, and feel your breath hitch when they register. But this isn’t really the dance for that, and the rest of his family is just steps away. He’ll have to compromise – which he doesn’t like.

“I’m going to dip you,” Joel says, matter-of-factly.

“No you’re not.”

“I am,” he insists. “It’s essential.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Look,” he tilts his head to Tommy and Sarah, and the latter is laughing as she pitches all her weight backwards into his arms. He nearly drops to one knee to catch her, she’s still so petit, but their form is actually pretty good. And they aren’t the only people in the room doing it.

“Okay,” you say, and give him a warm smile for a split second before becoming stone-faced. “But if you drop me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Joel drawls.

He puts his arms around your waist, one of them catching the middle of your back, the other on a patch of exposed skin on your hip – your tank top has ridden up slightly with all the movement. You dig your fingers into his biceps, cling to him like he had hoped you would.

And even when he draws you back up, eyes locked with your own, your grip remains the same. You stay close.

“My turn,” Tommy interjects, and Joel can’t help the dirty look he gives him over your shoulder. He’s playing the annoying little brother, doing everything he can to piss him off. His brother wants to see Joel break, but he’s not going to give him the satisfaction.

Plus, Joel is happy to dance with Sarah, which is the whole reason they came here in the first place. She’s so excited to be there, and he wonders if there will ever be a time when she’s too grown up for things like this. He hopes not.

He ignores the sound of Tommy’s laugh mingled with your own. You were not laughing that much with him, and that causes a pang of jealousy. Joel doesn’t like acknowledging it, but he’s always resented Tommy for his ability to be the charismatic one, the charming one, the happy-go-lucky one. Even when they were kids. That’s what it’s like to be the oldest sibling. Never as fun, always more practical, more serious, the voice of reason. Always in service to their siblings, all in the name of love.

Eventually, you and Sarah are back dancing together, and since you’ve had some practice separately, it’s not as sloppy as before. It allows Joel and Tommy to return to their post against the wall, just out of earshot.

Joel feels his brother’s eyes on him as he watches you and Sarah. “Dude,” he finally gives in, looks over at Tommy. “Just ask her out already.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Tommy-”

“You’re into her.”

“Maybe,” Joel says, because he knows it’s pointless to lie. “But she’s got a boyfriend.”

Tommy elbows him. “So what?”

“I know you’re alright bein’ a homewrecker but I-”

“It makes sense Joel. She’s fuckin’ smart, and funny, and pretty. And Sarah fucking loves her-”

In any other situation, he would’ve acted weeks ago. But he’s starting to understand why he’s dragging his feet. Tommy’s right. Sarah adores you. Joel will fuck something up, it’s inevitable. And when you decide you never want to speak to him again, Sarah will lose you too. He’s already let her down enough.

“I should’ve never fuckin’ told you–”

“Take her to drinks, to the movies, dinner, show up at her house with a bottle of wine, hell, something. If you don’t ask her out already, then I will.”

Joel punches his brother on the shoulder. It’s not enough to incite an actual fight, but it’s definitely not playful. “Ow!” Tommy grips at his arm. “What?” When Joel doesn’t answer right away, he rolls his eyes.

“Speaking from experience, I’m surprised you haven’t already,” he raises an eyebrow.

“Once, Joel. That was one time. Will I never hear the end of it?”

“No,” Joel says. “And I see what you were doing tonight, too. Don’t think you’re slick.” he hopes to change the subject, and it seems to be working.

Tommy sets them back on track. “Well, I was just trying to get you to wake the fuck up and see what’s in front of you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What happens when Sarah grows up? Goes to school, leaves the house? Then, what are you gonna do? You’re just gonna be alone?”

“You are treadin’ on some mighty thin ice, Tommy,'' Joel hisses. ““You barely know this woman-”

“I’d like a family, too, Joel. When that happens I won’t be able to keep you company anymore. You might want someone else. And maybe it’s not her, fine. But there should be someone.”

For as much as he hates to admit it, Joel knows Tommy is right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 25, 2003-

It’s six at night. and you’re already in your pajamas.

A couple years ago, you would’ve thought that was pretty sad. These days, it’s only a little sad. You prefer things this way. That’s the perk of being an adult living alone. If you want to put on pajamas before the sun sets on a Friday night, you can. If you want to get stoned on the back porch of the house you bought yourself, you can. If you want all those things to happen while you watch the sunset and listen to yacht rock, you can. And you’re going to.

You’re toying with the new digital camera your brother bought for you. Vincent likes to argue with you, but he always feels guilty after a conversation gone wrong. Rather than use his words, however, he just buys you gifts. You had apologized over the phone a few days ago…this was his way of doing the same. The shutter clicks as you snap a photo of your backyard, and you look at it in the viewfinder before discarding the camera on your coffee table.

Martini is on the porch with you, doing that thing where he stands just out of reach but chirps at you until you pet him. When you reach out, he moves away. He’s not great at accepting what he wants. Maybe it’s why he’s sort of the perfect cat for you – you’re the same.

You light your bowl, and you’re mid-inhale when you hear someone call your name.

“Hey!”

At this point, you’d recognize Joel Miller’s voice anywhere. You don’t want to admit it’s because you’ve tried to commit it to memory, daydreamed about how it might sound for his smooth lilt to read you a book until you fall asleep, or listen to him take a phone call in the other room.

Realizing it’s him, you inhale sharply, forgetting what you’re in the middle of and taking a much bigger hit than you had intended. You begin choking violently on the smoke while simultaneously scrambling to hide your piece and the related paraphernalia sitting out, and manage to do so just in time for him to round the corner.

You scramble to hide your bowl under the pillow of the outdoor couch you sit on, just in time for Joel to appear at the screen door.

“Hey,” you say, covering your mouth. Your throat burns, and you cough again. Stay cool, stay calm. Everything is good. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I tried your front door and you weren’t answering, so I thought I’d see if you were back here.” It’s hard to see him from here, through the door, and he’s backlit by the sun that’s shimmering behind his dark hair, catching it in a golden halo.

You rise to open the door, and when you do, he continues. “I’m here to pick up Sarah’s soccer jersey.”

Right. Of course he was. She had left it a few days before, and you had assumed she’d come get it before her game on Saturday but it didn’t dawn on you until now that she ever had.

“I would’ve sent her, but she’s at a sleepover tonight.”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, standing in place. You’re trying so desperately to act normal, words evade you.

Joel squints at you, a slight smirk on his face. “I didn’t catch you off guard or anything, did I?’

“No, no, not at all,” you lie. “Come on in.”

Joel steps over the tiny dish of cat food you’ve left on your back step for the stray you feed, and into the screened-in porch. Now that he’s under the dim light, you get a better look at him. A loose-fitting flannel hangs open over a worn green t-shirt that barely meets the top of his jeans. His hair is damp, like he’s just showered, and he smells clean. In any other situation, you’d want to climb him like a tree, and he’s not even trying. But right now, you’re just doing your best impression of a sober human that is definitely not doing anything illegal. The truth is, you should’ve made him wait outside.

“This is nice,” Joel says, looking around. And you really wish he wasn’t because you notice that you left the clear plastic baggie containing your weed out on the couch. It sort of blends in with the green floral pattern, so you hope for the best, because there’s no way for you to sneakily grab it without drawing his attention. “I didn't know this was back here.”

“The last owners added it on,” you say, because that was the type of thing the realtor had said to you about the features of this house. And you supposed a carpenter or contractor would probably be interested in it. It was a good distraction.

“I can tell. Looks new,” he looks up towards the wooden beams that span the ceiling. The top of the porch is still covered, so during the few times it’s rained, you always sit outside to listen.

“I’ve got her jersey in the kitchen,” you tell him. “Wait here.”

It doesn’t take long for you to pick out the bright blue athletic gear from your pile of dry cleaning. It stands out against all your neutral-colored pantsuits. Joel has his back to you when you return, one of his hands clenched into a fist.

“Here,” you say, and he turns.

“You had it dry cleaned? You didn’t have to do that.”

“I kind of wasn’t sure if it was safe to run through the machine,” you explain. “But now that I’m thinking about it….it wouldn’t make sense to give a bunch of 11-year-olds dry clean only jerseys.”

“It wouldn’t. But it’s probably more convenient than scrubbing the grass stains out yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Unfortunately. But again…thank you.”

“Of course.”

This is where Joel should leave, walk across the street, and go home. And he does, well, at least, he starts to. He steps away, reaches for the handle to your back door, and then pauses. “You know,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “The Watsons were tellin’ me the other day you’ve been complaining about a family of skunks living under your house?”

You freeze, recalling the lie you’d come up with on a whim when your sixty-year-old neighbors had started asking too many questions.

“Well, it does smell a little over here.”

“Uh-huh,” you give him nothing.

“Something like that….you should really call animal control. Get rid of the problem,” Joel’s facing you now, eyebrow raised.

“If I call animal control…they’ll just kill them,” you answer. “And I don’t want that. So…I think I’ll just have to live with it.”

“That’s fair,” Joel says. “But you know, Sarah’s over here all the time, and I’ve never heard her mention it.”

At this point you know he’s just fucking with you. But years of remaining stone-faced through business negotiations and family dinners has prepared you for this, so even if you’re a little stoned, you’re not going to let him win.

“Yeah, it sounds like a coincidence. But they’re never around when she’s here,” you say, in your own defense. “Ever,” you add for emphasis.

“I guess that’s good.”

You both stare at each other for a second, and your blood buzzes slightly because even though this is just a playful standoff, you’ve never made such intense eye contact with him. It feels electric. After what feels like an eternity, Joel lifts his hand from his hip, and you see what he’d been holding in his fist, now pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He raises an eyebrow.

When you see the plastic baggie dangling in front of your face, you purse your lips. “Alright, you got me,” you lift up your hands, but snatch the bag from him.

“And here I thought you were such a good girl.”

You don’t even want to acknowledge the full body chill that runs down your spine at the sound of those two words, coming from him. Snatching the bag back from him, he gives you a cheeky smile. “If you give me a hit, I won’t tell anyone.”

Your jaw drops, and you look up at him. “Oh, you’re trouble.”

“I’m not the one lyin’ to my neighbors.”

“And I’m not the one snooping through my neighbors' things.”

“It was right out in the open.”

Joel doesn’t seem bothered at all. But it’s Texas, so you can never be sure. “Okay, fine,” you say. “If you want….I could roll us a joint. Unless you have other plans.”

“The alternative is a house to myself for the evening and some chores, so…yeah. Whatever you’d like.”

“Great.”

Joel follows you to sit on the couch. As you settle on opposite ends, he speaks up. “So you think you could explain to me why my daughter keeps tellin’ me she wants to be a lawyer?”

You snicker. “Believe me, Joel. I’ve tried to talk her out of it already.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. Probably a more lucrative career than what I’m doing. She’s really taken a liking to you, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen her warm up to anyone so quick.”

“Well, I’m the first adult she knows that’s not an authority figure.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“I remember being that age,” you look down at your work. “It’s nice to have someone older to relate to, who you can talk to without being afraid of getting a lecture.”

“She probably needs it,” Joel says. “She told me you talk about girl stuff. I’m not so great at that.”

“I don’t know,” Your tongue darts out to wet the edge of the paper and finish rolling the joint. You put it between your lips, and rummage through the drawer of the coffee table to find your lighter, gesture between the both of you. “This is about ninety percent of how I spent my time with my friends at her age…and so far you’re doing alright.”

“Now you’ve got me worried about what’s going on at that sleepover.”

“Okay, well, I was maybe a little older. And with her? You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you shake your head.

He rubs the back of his neck, and his eyes glow with the reflection of your lighter as it’s flicked on. “I don’t know.”

“She’s fine, Joel,” you say, bringing the lighter closer and shielding the flame from the calm breeze of the evening. “She’s great. Really.”

“She is,” he agrees. You inhale, let the smoke settle in your lungs for a moment, before exhaling. You take your time, feeling warm from the weed and the feeling of Joel’s eyes on you, and he accepts the joint when you pass it over.

“I really didn’t really expect this from you,” he exhales, studying your handiwork before taking another puff. “You’re pretty buttoned up.”

“This is hardly rebellious.” Instinctually, you like the idea that he thinks you’re buttoned up. Deep down, however, you don’t actually want him to.

He looks so dreamy, the smoke curling though his eyelashes, tracing along his defined jaw, and then up, up, where it settles and shifts under the porch light, before disappearing completely.

Martini, who has been in hiding, hops up on the couch, and Joel reaches out, your cat nuzzling its face into his palm. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he mumbles. And then, like some sort of magic, the cat plops down on Joel’s lap.

“I do…but…” you say out loud, then trail off because you’re in such shock. You glance up at Joel, who looks confused. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen him do this.”

He passes the joint back to you. “Do what?”

You take a final puff, and then put it out in an ashtray. It’s only about half smoked, but you can get into it later if either of you wants to. Plus, you’re more interested in what’s unfolding in front of you. “I kinda want a picture of this.”

“What?”

“I’ve had him for five years and he’s never sat on my lap like that,” you say, and you can’t keep the resentment from dripping into your tone. “What makes you so special? I’m a little jealous.”

“Of me? Or the cat?”

Something honey-thick drips down your spine at his words. You can’t conjure a witty response, opting instead for: “Shut up.”

You snap a couple photos while Joel’s still laughing, one hand on his chest, the other on Martini’s back, and then put the camera down, and lean against the back of the couch, curling your feet underneath you.

“You’ve got a nice view of the sunset,” Joel says softly.

There’s a distant fear you might never get to see him like this again, and you want to take him in fully before you drag your eyes to see what he’s looking at. Your backyard slopes down into a small patch of woods, the sky opening even wider to let in the aureate light.

“I know,” you agree. “It’s why I spend so much time back here.” The high continues to settle over you, strokes your shoulders, tugs at the corners of your lips.

“Surprised you like things that are so peaceful…being from the city and all…”

“The city is peaceful,” you say, thinking of the leaves swirling from the trees in the fall, and the snowflakes falling onto your family's porch in the winter, melting on the tip of your nose as you lean over the balcony to see the glittering lights below, car horns and engines and sirens piercing the darkness, white noise. “In its own way.”

“You miss it?”

“Everyday,” you say.

“What do you miss the most?”

“Uhm…probably the bagels,” you lie. Well it’s true. But it’s not what you miss the most. You think of your brother, flopping onto your bed on a Saturday night – a rare weekend when you visit home – and you’re trying to read A Tree Grows In Brooklyn for school but he’s begging to take you around the corner to get a milkshake. It’s the image of him you’ve so desperately tried to cling to and the recollections you share with him have only gotten more and more unpleasant as time goes on. “The bagels here suck.”

“Really?” Joel seems amused by that.

“And uh…I don’t know. It’s part of me. I have a lot of friends there, a lot of good memories,” you smile to yourself, lean forward towards him. “I had this apartment before I graduated, right? It had the best view of this little Italian restaurant, and I’d sit and watch people through the windows, eating and talking. I was supposed to be studying, but…it was great. I loved it.”

“What’re you doing here, then?” Joel asks, and you look back at the sunset. Here you are, waxing poetic and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. “You runnin’ from something?” You look over to find he’s staring at you. Like he knows you aren’t being honest, and he’s asking you to stop lying.

So you do the only thing you can think of, which is to ask him a question in response. “What makes you think I am?”

Joel considers this for a moment. “I don’t know. I grew up in Austin. All my friends are here, my family. If I ever moved someplace else….it’d have to be for a good reason. And even if I did, I’d be lonely.”

You stare down at the floor. “Maybe I am.” Lonely? Or running from something? The answer is both, you know, but you’re not going to clarify. “My family. Things are pretty fucked. I thought distance would help, and it does, a little. But….that shit still follows you anyways. They’re always with you, no matter what.”

Joel nods.

“But… I have a life here. When I lived downtown, I definitely did. I don’t mind the quiet, and….I have friends.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a boyfriend, don’t you?”

Why would he think that-oh. You had tried to forget it, the morning he’d caught you still wrapped up in your robe – not the fluffy fleece one you liked the most, but the one you specifically only wore when you had guys over, cause they loved that shit.

“Oh, right,” you say. “Bradley. Yeah, uh. He’s…he’s….not my boyfriend. But…” you shake your head. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I’m sure it ain’t that hard to explain.”

“I mean…” you avoid his eyes. “He’s kind of an asshole, but we’re not really commited to each other in a meaningful way. Plus, he’s not around that much which is kind of perfect…for me.”

“Really?”

“Less to worry about,” you answer, purse your lips. “But…I don’t know. I sorta wish he got my heart rate up a little more.”

“He’s not your type?”

“I don’t really have a type,” you shake your head. “I like what I like.”

Joel rasps. “I feel the same,” and he’s made sure your eyes are on him when he says it.

You swallow, nod, smooth your hair back. “Anyways. Why’re you asking me all this?”

Joel doesn’t seem to find an answer right away. You narrow your eyes at him, studying his face, looking for something that will give him away. It’s a trick you’ve learned…silence…a bit of skepticism. It makes people uncomfortable. And Joel shifts his weight, squirming beneath your gaze. Until something in his face shifts, and he smiles….just a little.

“So that’s where Sarah learned that.”

“Learned what?”

“That look you’re giving me.”

“What look?”

“Like you can see right through me.”

“Can I?” You narrow your eyes further.

“You’re tryin’ to.”

He’d done a good enough job of avoiding your question, and you’re not gonna ask him again, and instead opt for a different one. “So what about you, then?” you poke his knee with your foot.

“Oh, I’m not answerin’’ that.”

“What? I just told you, that’s not fair.”

Joel runs a hand along his jaw, ponders. “Most women don’t want to be with a man who already has a kid so…things on that front are not always easy.”

“I have a hard time believing that. I mean, don’t you have an upcoming date with Sarah’s teacher or something?” you tease.

“That’s not happening,” he assures you. “But….I work so much these days I don’t have the capacity for much. So I get what you mean, sometimes it’s easy to not get emotionally involved but…I’ve never really been great at that.”

“You’re a relationship guy?”

“I mean, Tommy has been pestering me about this lately. Says at this rate, once Sarah’s grown, I’ll end up old and alone. Annoys me to hell, but he’s right. I wouldn’t mind…some kind of companionship. Someone to tell you you’ve done alright at the end of the day.”

“You sound awfully romantic,” you at him blink slowly.

“I can be, when I want to.” Joel rolls his eyes. “But right now…I think I’m just stoned.”

That makes you giggle. So he’s just being honest. “I didn’t really see much great come from settling down when I grew up, so I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist when it comes to love. What you’re saying….it’s a nicer way to think of things.”

You rarely connected with the men you dated. You chose to date douchebags, to date cheaters. It was better that way, to know up front what you were getting yourself into. The best ones didn’t ask for much, just the odd fuck here and there for a couple months, and you’d step away when things were no longer fun, if they evewere to begin with.

Actually getting married, settling down, didn’t feel like a real possibility for you. So you’d never allowed yourself to indulge in what seemed like a fantasy. Some women aren’t meant to be a part of a family. Your father had told you once – during one of few times he’d attempted to comfort you after your mother didn’t call on your birthday – as if it excused his own neglect.

“Yeah, and it hasn’t all been bad. I mean, I’ve had a couple good girlfriends over the years. They were sweet, fun. I enjoyed the time I spent with them, they just…never made it through the real litmus test.”

“Sarah?”

He nods.

“It would be hard, I imagine. For her. Accepting someone new into her life.”

“Yeah.”

“You really care about her,” you say. “About how she feels. It’s nice.”

“I’m doin’ my best.”

The way he talks about Sarah makes you nauseated. It’s something pure, and you can’t help but feel bitterly nostalgic.

“I wish my dad would have been like you.”

It slips out, and you immediately regret it. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten stoned with someone else, and you’ve forgotten your filter. And even though you’ve already divulged more to him about you than you normally would, this feels like too much all of the sudden.

This isn’t something you can backpedal, and before you know it, Joel is leaning towards you. There’s concern written in his features, he wants to comfort, and you thank God for what happens next, or it all would’ve been too much.

His shift in weight causes Martini to jump off his lap and sprint to the door of the porch. He stares at you and then meows.

Even though Joel isn’t touching you, you have to tear yourself away from the hold he’s got you in. ““I gotta let him in, or he’ll get annoyed.”

You move to open the door, and the cat slips inside.

“Is that a guitar in there?” Joel asks, catching a sliver of the gleaming body in the dim light.

“Yeah.”

“You play?” He questions, and you come to sit back on the couch.

“Not anymore. It’s more of a decoration. How about you?”

“A little.”

“A little?”

“A lot.” Joel smiles, looks at the ground like not sure why he’s telling you this. “I actually uh, used to want to be a singer.”

“What?” you ask. “You’re kidding.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head.

“Joel, what?” you put a hand on his arm and lean forward, then look at the guitar.

“Why not?”

“I was…young when I had Sarah. And I had to do something that could actually help us get by.”

“Okay well, you have to play me something, then,” you rise to step inside and retrieve it off the wall.

“No, no-”

“Come on, please?” you ask. “Don’t be a tease.”

Joel just stares as you bring the guitar out to him.

“Although this might be out of tune…” you strum once, and wince at the tinny sound it makes. “Definitely it is.”

“Here,” Joel takes it from you. “I can do it.”

It takes him a moment, but he’s plucking the strings in a way that feels so instinctual, purposeful, you can already tell he knows what he’s doing. Once he’s finished, he strums a few chords, and everything is magically in tune.

“Alright,” you prompt, when he hesitates. “What are you gonna play me?”

“You know any Neil Young?”

“Of course,” you answer.

Joel nods once, looks down at the guitar, and starts playing. You’d recognize the opening chords to anywhere, but he somehow makes them sound even moodier, and bittersweet.

Come a little bit closer, hear what I have to say…

He can sing. You’re taken aback. You’re not sure what you expected, but it’s definitely better than that. Deeper, raspier, and now you have new information about him that’s going to bounce around your brain when you’re bored during meetings at work, while you’re lying in bed at night, trying to sleep.

Because I’m still in love with you, I want to see you dance again…

You shift your weight, sling your arm over the back of the couch, and rest your chin on your hand. Suddenly, you’re feeling a little tired. He’s all-but putting you to sleep and, somehow, that feels like the highest compliment you can give. It could be because you’re stoned, but you feel warm all over. You close your eyes, just listen, until he’s finished.

Even after he’s finished, you keep your eyes closed, settling. Until you feel something graze against the back of your hand. Joel’s. He’s matching your own pose, facing you, but reaching out…

“That was nice,” you say, earnestly. You’re good.”

Joel smiles bashfully, tugs your hand from beneath your chin and pinches your index finger between two of his own. Your nails are painted a glittery purple, and Joel studies them. Sarah had painted them earlier this week when she’d hung out after school, and had picked out the color.

“So are you,” he shifts closer.

He’s not quite close enough to kiss you himself. But it’s enough…he’s just giving you the chance to lean in, to close the gap. The proximity makes you dizzy, and you’re a little overwhelmed. It’s too much. It’d be too much. You can’t. You’re afraid of what he might do to you.

“We should be good, then,” Gazing at him from under your lashes, you pull back just enough. It’s not a rejection, and you can tell he doesn’t see it that way either. There’s a mutual understanding, you’re on the same page, but you aren’t quite sure what it is. The warmth of Joel’s hand leaves yours, and a part of you is filled with regret.

And then, like it never happened, the two of you spend another hour talking. He’s engaged, intuitive, thoughtful, funny. By the time he excuses himself, long after the sun has fully dipped below the horizon, you feel like he’s an old friend. An old friend you want…badly, but, you know him on a level you hadn’t before.

“Gotta be up tomorrow for a soccer game, otherwise I’d stick around,” Joel says as you’re guiding him to the front door.

“It’s alright,” you say. “You’re welcome to do this anytime.”

“You sure?” he tilts his head, leaning against the doorframe on his way out. “You might regret offerin’ that….”

“I won’t.”

part iv

taglist: @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha

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azurlily · 5 months

Note

i saw that request for resident lover is open soo... may i ask for some cassandra smut? i NEED this woman her way with me

Yall are down bad, but I am too so no worries. I fully intend to write smut for Alcina and Miranda later. If anyone would like to request a special kind of smut with them, I'd be more than happy to write it. - L and W

I also have a dark one-shot(maybe more) for Cassandra's BAD end. I'm so down bad for scary Cass, and I think her turning to the dark side, but still loving you is perfect. - L

THIS HAS NOT BEEN SPELL CHECKED! Made by Lune and Wora.

"Cassie, I know you said you had some big birthday gift for me, but considering we're not in the theater and instead in your room, I'm slightly worried..."

You heard rustling around the room, and you hear a loud and pretentious scoff. You smirk, knowing you've offended your girlfriend in some way.

"I'll have you know that my entire life doesn't revolve around theater. It revolves around you; you're my world. As for your gift, if you don't like this, I don't know what you'll like!"

You can hear the cheery happiness in her tone; she's more excited about this than you were.

Previously, Cassandra had told you she was doing something a bit different for your birthday. All you had to do was stand in the bedroom and wait. With your eyes closed of course!

You make a snarky remark back and based upon the fact that Cassandra doesn't answer you assume she's ignoring you. You continue to hear rustling and even some groaning on her part. What could she possibly be doing?

"Alright, you're allowed to look!"

You smile and open your eyes only to see something that's absolutely engraved into your mind and while stay there until the say you die.

Cassandra is wearing a lacy red and black lingerie set. The base itself is black, while the design is a crimson red, adorning Cassie's skin elegantly. Cassandra can make just about anything look good, and she's proving that right now. Cassie has her arms behind her back and the most lovestruck and mischievous look on her face.

She looks like she's going to eat you, and you would let her. In the state you're in right now, you'd let that woman do anything to you. And you'd thank her for all of it.

You stare so hard that Cassandra begins to blush bashfully. You haven't spoken a word, and at first, Cassandra worried that you didn't like it. That was until she saw the awestruck look in your eyes. You're mentally preparing yourself.

"Are you just going to sit there, my star? If so, I just might have to take care of myself if you won't... And to think I was going to let you top tonight, what a shame."

That snapped you out of it quickly, you look up at her like a love sick puppy and shake your head.

"No, no, no, I-I want to take care of you Cassie. I want to-"

You're cut off with a finger to your lips. Cassandra pulls her finger away and leans down, she gently kisses you on the lips. It felt amazing, you two had kissed many times, but this? This was different in some way, some way you couldn't properly explain. Nor did you want to.

Explaining would mean you'd have to start thinking, and you didn't want to do that. You wanted to become a girl shaped pile of mush that let Cassandra do whatever she pleased to her.

The taste of Cassandra's lips were intoxicating; espresso and chocolate. They melded so well together, and being able to taste them on your girlfriends lips made them taste even better together.

Cassandra pulls from you with a devious look on her face.

"I guess you can try to top me next year, star. After seeing the look on your face-"

Cassandra's voice gets lower, her eyes darken and she shifts your chin so your looking her in the eyes.

"-I fully intend to take good care of you and your body. Now l hope those clothes aren't important because I will be ripping them off."

Cassandra quickly mumbles something about buying you more later before grabbing your shirt and making good on her words. She rips your shirt in two. She almost did the same to your shorts, but you talked her into letting you strip.

Of course, Cassandra being the impatient person she is, once you were down to just your bra, she grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed. The look in her eyes made you wonder if you were going to survive the night.

"Hands on the headboard, you know the deal."

Her voice change sent shivers down your spine. The usually velvety smooth voice has gotten dark, rough. Cassandra not only looked at you like she was going to eat you, she sounded like she was too.

Cassandra's hands begin to explore, one on your stomach kneading and pressing her hand into it. The other playing with your chest, she runs her fingers over your nipples softly before giving them a hard pinch.

You yelp and she laughs melodiously, it sounds so sweet. You'd revel in the sound of her voice more, but what her hands are doing is far more important.

The hand that was previously on your stomach has found it's way into your underwear. Cassandra has a finger pressed against your puffy clit, and the rest of her fingers are cupping your pussy.

Feeling her touch your bundle of nerves, you buck into her hand. That results in a harsh slap to your thigh. You whimper, but otherwise keep quiet.

You know what you want, she knows what you want. You hoped that it was only a matter if time before you got it, but that was for her to decide.

Cassandra pulls rips your panties off of you and spreads your legs. She wants you on full display, she wants to see the embarrassment on your face knowing she got herself all dolled up for you.

But you don't get to touch her, meanwhile she can rip your clothes off and treat you how you deserve to be treated. Cassandra looks at your face, you look absolutely debauched.

"Mercy is a wonderful thing, my star."

Cassandra dips her head down between your thighs, she uses two fingers to spread your folds apart and begins sucking on your clit.

You whine loudly and squirm, you begin moving too much for Cassandra's liking so she grabs you by your thighs and all but presses you into her.

Cassandra mounts both your legs onto her shoulders. The look in her eyes isn't one of love, it's pure lust.

Cassandra moves one of her hands down onto your cunt, she presses two fingers into you. You're already so fucking wet, these will surely fit. And she's right, they practically slide in, god you wanted this.

Cassandra enjoys it for a moment, getting onto a rythm of sucking on your clit and pumping two fingers inside you at the same time.

Meanwhile you whined, at first you were begging- for what you did not know, but now you're spouting unintelligible words that you aren't sure go together.

Cassandra's tounge always brings you to the edge the fastest, and paired with her fingers and the lingerie. You were bound to have quite the fun night. Because you've learned the hard way that Cassandra enjoys forcing one orgasm after the other.

She enjoys seeing the dumb and fuck out look on your face when shes done. The tear stained cheeks and the bite marks and throbbing hickeys all turn her on in a way she doesn't understand.

Cassandra can feel you tightening around her fingers. She stops sucking on your clit and begins sucking your tits. Meanwhile, the other hand holds onto your thigh. Cassandra lets go and presses against your stomach, gently applying pressure.

Cassandra breaks away from your tits, deciding to stake her claim elsewhere. She moves to your neck and begins sucking small hickeys before getting impatient and biting down.

"C-Cassie! A-ah, oh fuck-"

"You can pull your hands down, and I won't make you beg to cum. Although that is one of my favorite activities..."

You wrap your arms around her back and dig your nails into her skin. Your body is melting; it has to be. This is too much all at once, and yet you just want more and more.

"Ah-fuck... my star. That's it press against me as much you n-need."

Cassandra talks you through your orgasm and you whimper and whine the entire time. It's just so much, and as good as this feels you know this isn't even close to the end.

As you ride out the last of your orgasmic bliss, you feel Cassandra pull her hands away. When you open your eyes you see shes moved off the bed and is standing there with a dark red strap.

"You're choice star, either you sit on my face and I eat you until you see stars...or I rail you over the bed. Both will be happening, but you get to choose which one first!"

Cassandra had that charismatic look in her eyes, the one that held darkness and need. A need you could fill so very easily.

"So what will it be, little star?"

I regret being a co-writer to this monstrosity. - W

Anyway we hope yall like this to some extent. Also of course if you haven't played Resident Lover(a free sapphic game based off of Resident Evil: Village) you definitely should. The people that made such an amazing game are @resident-lover .

#wlw #lesbian #women are hot #cassandra dimitrescu #Cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident lover spoilers #resident evil fangame #resident lover #Cassandra is so hot #wlw nsft #sapphic #lesbian nsft #nsft

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aprocessionofthoughts · 6 months

Text

Calling All Bats

ai-less whumptober 2023 day 26- came back wrong fandom- dp x dc TW- none summary- Jason starts looking for Danny

ao3 ailesswhumptober23 masterlist part 5 of DLM

Danny found himself pleasantly relaxing with this strange liminal. Which he figured was why Gotham had directed him to that apartment. He had been surprised when he reached Gotham’s border and immediately felt the city’s presence. He had never encountered a living city before even though he knew they were possible. He had hesitated at first, not wanting to intrude on what felt like a haunt. But Gotham had assured him with feelings of temporary protection, she couldn’t do much. She was too weak from constantly being surrounded by corrupted ectoplasm from all the disasters. But she could offer temporary asylum and let Danny know when the GIW entered Gotham’s border.

Of course Danny hadn’t known that Gotham would be sneaky and direct him to a liminal’s apartment. Danny had not expected a liminal to come in, usually he could sense a haunt, but with Gotham as contaminated as she was, he figured the criminal's presence was hidden. It was also probably because Jason’s ectoplasm was also corrupted.

He wished he could have stayed longer in that apartment. He might have even been able to help Jason. But when Gotham whispered to him that the GIW had come, Danny knew he had to leave before the agents found Jason. Hopefully Gotham’s corrupt ectoplasm would help hide Jason. It might even make it more difficult for the agents to track him down as well.

But he couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t sure where he’d go next. At least he had gotten his bandages changed and eaten a few cookies.

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

Jason didn’t know what to do. The kid was just gone.

How was he supposed to look for him? Where even did he go?

And these GIW agents or whatever were clearly after him. Jason wasn’t about to abandon the kid.

Leaving behind his hot chocolate and cookies he walked over to his room and put his uniform back on.

The kid was like him. They both came back wrong. Jason grimaced. He’d always described himself as coming back wrong, but thinking about the kid like that was wrong. The kid was fine. Who cared if he’d died before. And maybe, Jason wasn’t messed up either? Danny acted like all this was normal. And maybe it was.

Whatever. Existential thought could wait till after he’d found Danny and beat the GIW to a pulp.

He left through his window and made his way up to the roof. He paused. He wouldn’t be able to search the whole city by himself.

That meant he’d have to call in reinforcements.

Ugh. What a pain.

He activates his comm. “Hey, Oracle. Anyone out tonight?”

“Hood, I thought you were ending your patrol early today?”

“I did. Then I found something. I need anyone out to help me out with the situation.”

“Red Robin’s out right now, but Nightwing is still suited up if you need him too.”

“Go ahead and patch them both to my comm.”

“Will do.”

A moment later Dick’s voice came through. “What’s up, Hood?”

“I need your help looking for someone.” Jason said, grappling over to the next roof. “Who are you looking for?” Tim asked.

Jason hesitated before answering, “He’s a kid about fourteen or fifteen, he’s some kind of meta. I was talking with him and he just disappeared. But he mentioned he has government agents trying to hunt him down to experiment on him.”

“What’s he look like?” Dick asked, voice serious.

Jason paused before getting it over with. “He was wearing jeans and had a black hoodie on. And he has black hair and blue eyes.”

There was silence for a moment before Dick started cackling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but really Little Wing? You’ve found us a new brother?”

“Shut up. We need to start looking for him.”

“Of course.” Dick said, sounding serious, but Jason could tell that the man was still smiling.

“Do you know what agency is after him?” Tim asked.

“A group called the GIW. I don't know anything else.”

“I’ll look into them. I’ve also got my systems looking for any black haired, blue eyed kids.” Babs said.

“We’ll find him, Hood.” Dick said.

Jason hoped so.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptober #day 26 #came back wrong #jason is liminal #Jason todd #Danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #fanfic

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skzhua · 1 year

Note

Request- Hyunjin having a really bad day during comeback and so his members call y/n to come pick him up and he just breaks down in front of her from the stress and gets taken care of 🥹💞?

Night Breeze and Hot Choco

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Idol!Hwang Hyunjin x Non-Idol!FemaleReader

Genre: Idol!AU, angst, fluff, imagine.

Word Count: 2,257

Warnings: Stress, crying, mental breakdown, sad Hyunjin.

A/N: Just for our birthday boy~ And y'all know by now I am Hyunjin biased...

"Woah, there!" Minho yelped as someone almost bumped into him as he left the stage.

"Sorry." Hyunjin quickly muttered and hurried to the waiting room.

Minho exchanged glances with Han, but the younger boy shrugged his shoulders. The rest of the group followed and they change back into their clothes. They chatted about their performance and laughed about whatever stupid comments Seungmin was coming up with. However, Hyunjin was in his space, not participating much into the conversation. Chan looked at him worriedly, but didn't ask questions.

"Hey, Hyune. I'm getting some snacks later, if you want to come with me." Minho nudged at his younger friend, but his expression remained blank.

"Not tonight." he simply said before leaving to go to the washroom.

The members followed his figure as he walked away, and then glanced at each other with knowing looks.

"Do you think it's because I messed up the dance?" Jeongin asked, but the others were quick to deny.

"I'll check on him later, he seems to want to be alone for now." Chan sighed.

The ride home was silent as nobody dared to speak. Hyunjin had been staring out the window and biting his upper lips from time to time. Jeongin had offered him a candy from the ones he had brought with him, but he refused to take it. This only made the youngest member worry. Hyunjin would never refuse food, especially after a schedule.

Back at the dorm, the moment Changbin opened the door, Hyunjin took off his shoes quickly and ran straight to the comfort of his room. Perplexed, the 3racha men were left alone at their entrance.

"Okay, this is not normal." Han exclaimed. "He hasn't eaten anything since this morning, and he's acting up. I'm going in there and I'll-"

Chan lift his arm to prevent Jisung from moving. "You haven't eaten either. You two can order something, I'll go talk to him myself."

Reluctant, Jisung hesitated. As Chan gave him a pleading look, he nodded before going to sit down with Changbin. The leader made his way to Hyunjin's room and knocked softly on the door. There was no answer, so he repeated the action. He managed to hear a small hum coming from the other side.

"Hyune? We're ordering food if you want something."

"I'm good, thanks." he heard him mumble.

Chan wasn't sure if he was supposed to insist more, or let go of it and hope it's nothing too serious. However, one thing he hated was seeing his members in suffering, and Hyunjin was clearly not okay.

"Hey." he knocked again. "Can I come in?"

There was a small pause after his question. As he was about to ask again, Hyunjin finally spoke. "I rather stay alone for a bit if that's okay."

Sighing in defeat, Chan walked back to the others. Changbin was on the phone to order some chicken while Han was scrolling through his social medias. Upon seeing Chan coming back, he put it away and looked at him expectedly.

"So?"

Chan shook his head as he sat next to him. "He wants to be alone."

"Did he fight with Y/N or something?"

They've had barely a break since their comeback. Promotions here and there, lives to entertain the fans, filming SKZ-Code, already starting to prepare for their next album... They were insanely busy. Y/N has always been understanding of their career and never got mad at her boyfriend for cancelling dates and such. Nonetheless, people have their limits. Assuming this might be the cause of Hyunjin's mood, it made sense Jisung came up with this conclusion.

"Maybe." Chan shrugged. "Do you think we should call her?"

"It's none of our business, technically." Changbin joined in, after ending his call with the restaurant.

"I get that, but I don't like to see Hyunjin feel like shit without helping."

Jisung grabbed his phone back and was quick to compose Y/N's phone number. After a few rings, she answered sounding completely normal.

"What's up, Ji!" she exclaimed joyously.

"Hi, Y/N! Do you happen to have fought with Hyunjin?"

"What do you mean?" she replied, confused.

"No? I don't know what's with him, but he's not doing so good right now, and we are kind of worried." Jisung explained. "Are you busy right now?"

"No, I'm not. He's at the dorm?"

"Yeah, it'd be great of you come to maybe help him think about something else. I don't know, just distract him from whatever he's thinking."

"Of course, no problem. Has he eaten yet?"

"Right, that's another worry of us..."

Jisung didn't need to add any more details for Y/N to hang up, get her coat, and leave her flat to head straight to their apartment. Luckily, she didn't live far from them, but the drive seemed to take forever. When she finally got there, she ran to their door and knocked agressively. It immediately opened as Changbin greeted her with a sad look.

"He's in his room." he said, opening the door wider to let her in.

"Thank you." she smiled, and made her way to her boyfriend's room.

She knocked carefully, and waited for a response. Instead, she heard sniffles. It broke her heart, but she knew he'll feel better once he sees her. Right?

"Chan, I said I wanted to be alone." Y/N heard him say.

"It's me, Jinnie." she said in a worried voice.

Instantly, the door was opened, revealing Hyunjin in an oversized shirt with sweatpants. As she checked him up and down, she didn't see anything much different, apart from his red-ish nose and swollen eyes. He had definitely been crying.

"Baby..." she let out a breath.

"Hey." he said shyly.

There was a small pause. Y/N didn't know what to say, nor how to react. She had seen him in similar states, but he wasn't even smiling. This was definitely a rough patch for him.

"How about we go for a quick stroll?" she ended up suggesting. "Then, we can go to my place and cuddle, and then sleep?"

Hyunjin hesitated. He had more schedule coming the next morning, and he wasn't going to miss it, it was too important. Nonetheless, he did miss his lover. In fact, not having seen her for weeks had deeply affected him. He did owe her a date, after all.

"Alright. Let me just check with Chan?"

The girl nodded and stepped aside to let him go to Chan. They talked for a bit, and it ended with Hyunjin getting the approval he could go. He put on his coat as he let Y/N leave first, following closely behind.

Night walks were among the girl's favourite things to do. She liked the breeze and the quietness of the night. Mostly, she loved the view. The pair had not said a word since they left, and it was more than okay for Hyunjin. As they approached the Han river, Y/N led the idol to a bench so they could admire the view.

After sitting in silence for a couple of minutes, Hyunjin finally talked. "I could paint this."

"I'm sure it'll be pretty." she smiled. "Anything you create will be perfect."

Hyunjin only sighed as an answer. The comfortable silence was back. They stayed like this for a while, until the man claimed to be tired. With that being said, they got up and made their way to Y/N's car. In the vehicle, Hyunjin was still quiet as he observed the view through the window. At some point, Y/N thought she heard him sniff. She wasn't sure if she heard correctly, so she didn't question him.

At home, they got ready for bed as soon as they stepped inside. While Hyunjin went to brush his teeth, Y/N prepared a warm hot choco for the both of them, and didn't forget to bring warm blankets. When she arrived in her room with her stuff, it was the first time she saw Hyunjin give her a small smile since the beginning of the evening.

"You're too sweet."

She shrugged her shoulders as she positioned herself cozily next to him. "I just hate seeing you so... off."

To that, Hyunjin froze. He knew she was going to bring up the subject soon or later, but he really didn't want to put his problems onto her shoulders. Since the start of their relationship, he swore to himself that his work would never affect them as a couple. He still believed it should stay this way.

"Don't worry about me, baby." He forced a smile, but the woman was not buying any of his act.

"You know I'm here for you, right?" she asked carefully.

He took her hands and rubbed her skin softly. "Of course, I know."

"Then, what is it? I know you hate to complain to me about your issues, but I am your partner. I care about you and I absolutely despise how you've been on the verge of crying since the moment I came to pick you up."

Hyunjin hadn't even realized tears started to roll down his cheeks by then. He had tried so hard to not let it happen in front of the others, but he was seemingly weaker in front of her.

"It's..." he started, but paused to think about how he could phrase his thoughts. "I think this is the first time since debut that I hate my job." he finally admitted.

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew there was no more restraining from crying. So he cried. He broke down in front of the person he loved the most, completely exposed. Completely vulnerable.

"I thought I was doing good with stress, but it looks like I don't. I keep fucking up since our comeback. I fuck up the dance, I forget lyrics, I lose focus whenever the guys tell me something. Fuck, I even forget to text you goodnight because I can't fucking catch a break." he sobbed some more.

Y/N stayed quiet as he continued to rant. She rubbed his upper arm in reassurance. She knew how hard it was for him to be honest and transparent with how he dealt with his career. To be honest, she didn't know if he ever told her so explicitly what he was going through.

"Today, I almost crashed into Minho. I was so scared I was going to break his bones. Yes, I caught myself in time, but imagine the damage I could have done. Some fans noticed and went online. Am I such a burden for the group? I keep trying so fucking hard and yet..." His crying had taken over as a hiccup interrupted the end of his sentence.

Y/N took this moment to bring him into her arms, and the man just fell into her. The sobs increased, but she continued to rub his back, whispering sweet thoughts to him as a way to calm him. It took some time, but he managed to eventually breathe normally again. Eyes swollen, he pulled away a bit from the girl and looked into her eyes. How did he get so lucky?

"I'm sorry for being a failure." he mumbled sadly.

Y/N shook her head vigorously, taking his face with the palm of her hands. "Never say that again. You are far from being a failure. Heck, Hyunjin, you're in one of the most famous kpop groups. Is this not enough of a sign of how much you have done? And don't tell me you're a burden to the boys either. They care so much about you that they always ask me to check on you when you're sad."

Hyunjin frowned from her claims. "They do that?"

"Yes, baby. Do you know why? Because you're so fucking precious and lovable. As for the stress, it's absolutely normal that you're close to a burn out. You've been working nonstop for weeks, of course it affects how you deliver your performances. Did you even ask the company if you could take a break?"

He shook his head. "I can't let them down..."

Y/N scoffed in disbelief. "They don't care about that. They want you to be happy and healthy. I want you happy and healthy."

By then, the tears on Hyunjin's face came back. Only this time, it wasn't because he was worried with work. It was because he was overwhelmed with the love he was getting. One thing he wasn't good with was seeing his worth. By some magic, Y/N always found a way to remind him how loved and talented he was.

"You're right." he finally smiled. "I should ask Chan for a break."

"There you go." she smiled back, giving him a peck on the lips. "My Jinnie is back."

He chuckled at how cute she was. "I love you so much. Please, never leave me?"

Y/N brought him into a long-lasting kiss, and then hugged him tightly. "Never. You're too fucking precious to let go."

He hummed quietly. "Are you talking about yourself now?"

She pouted at him. "Let me compliment you!"

"I've let you do so for straight up 15 minutes, my turn." he grinned.

They cuddled for a while, not forgetting to enjoy the hot choco the girl had previously made for themselves. Hyunjin was finally feeling some sort of peace after a long time. His comfort home was her, and he enjoyed the moment as much as he could.

"Now, how about we watch the drama of your choice before sleeping?" she suggested, putting away the empty mugs.

"I'd like that very much."

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin angst #stray kids requests #hwang hyunjin requests #happy hyunjin day #happy birthday hyunjin

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just-a-creep-babe · 8 months

Text

Graveyard Shift - Part 4

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Commissioned once more by anonymous!! Tysm & I hope you enjoy!!! 🫶💗💝💓✨

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Things between (y/n) and the masked man change after that incident at work

When he returns to the hospital almost a full week later, asking for more supplies, the girl’s less hesitant to get him what he needs

It’s the least she can do after he saved her

She tries not to ask too many questions, despite her burning curiosity, because she knows he won’t give a straight answer anyway

He’s going to keep being all mysterious, keep toying with her, and it’s just going to frustrate her even further

So instead, she tries to get through the interaction as quickly and painlessly as possible

There’s almost this sort of formal professionalism between the two as they interact

And when he leaves her unscathed yet again, she starts wondering what his real intentions truly are

Over the next few weeks, it becomes a sort of semi-regular occurrence for him to show up

She brings him what he asks for, no questions asked, and the two inevitably begin growing more comfortable with one another

Ultimately, she realizes it’s probably better for her peace of mind to not know what he’s doing with all of those supplies, anyways

The more she sees him, the more she interacts with him, the more it becomes glaringly obvious that he’s definitely not human

And while part of her refused to believe it at first, it becomes so undeniable that she’s left with no other choice but to accept it

There’s simply no way a mere human would’ve been able to catch her from that fall, no way a human would be able to dedicate so much time to watching her like he does, and absolutely no way a human could have such uncanny grace and balance despite an obvious lack of eyes

But even as it dawns on her that she’s, for whatever reason, acquired an inhuman stalker, there’s just something almost… calming about his presence

It’s like he wanted to scare her at first, like he was testing her with those gifts and letters, and now that she’s passed his tests, he’s become more accepting of her

Like he’s come to view her as an equal instead of just some toy for his amusement

Or, at least, that’s about the best guess she can currently hazard

Either way, her fear and uncertainty gradually morph into something different

Even when she feels him peering at her from his hiding spots, she no longer feels afraid

If anything, his unspoken presence almost becomes a strangely welcomed familiarity

Eventually, she becomes practically desperate to learn more about him

She figures that the more information she has on him, the better, which leads her to a trip down to the local library

She checks out a decently sized stack of books dealing with the supernatural, stops by a cafe to grab herself a coffee and some fresh pastries, and then heads back home

It’s a dreary day, with heavy black clouds rolling in, and she’s thankful she isn’t working tonight; commuting in a rainstorm is never a fun time

As soon as she gets home, she splays out the books alongside her scientific texts, and although seeing them side-by-side creates a jarring contradiction, it seems there’s more to the world than modern science can explain, after all

While her coffee is still warm, she begins pouring through the well-aged papers

Skimming through most of them, she tries to find anything on masked stalkers, black tar oozing from eyes, and any known causes of superhuman strength and reflexes

But even after a few hours of research, her findings are, unfortunately, mostly inconclusive

The closest she gets is something about cult sacrifices and rituals, but the books seem to primarily dismiss those kinds of notions

With a sigh, she figures it might just be hopeless

When she finally looks up from the papers, she realizes it’s dark outside, and rain is pelting loudly against the windows

Her thoughts escape briefly to her stalker; she wonders where he is and what he’s doing right now

When suddenly, thinking of the devil, a flash of lightning strikes, illuminating the streets for a brief millisecond, but it’s more than enough time for her to see him

His silhouette is all too familiar—tall and dark, with that distinct azure blue mask staring directly at her

He’s standing beneath a tree, like he’s trying to avoid the storm, but there’s no way he’s not getting soaked out there

(Y/n) bites her lip, chewing it between teeth

It’s objectively ridiculous to be worried about your stalker, and she knows that

But she just can’t help feeling bad for him

And really, this could be the perfect opportunity to find out more about him

Why sift through musty old books when she could just ask him directly?

And surely, the chances of him answering honestly must be higher if she does him a favor by letting him in like this

Or, at least, that’s what she tells herself

But, truth be told, she’s always been too soft, too considerate of other people

No matter who someone was or what they might’ve done, she’s always been the type to help them out

It’s the main reason why she pushed herself through all those grueling years in med school, why she ended up with her career in the first place

She’s always wanted to help people—it’s who she fundamentally is as a person; she couldn’t help it in the past, and she sure as hell can’t help it now

Which is why, even now, even if anyone in their right state of mind would absolutely not consider doing what she’s about to do, she still stands, makes her way to the door, and opens it

Rain immediately infiltrates the entrance, pattering against the first few inches of the wooden floor, and (y/n) has to step back to avoid getting wet

She hugs her arms around herself, squinting into the darkness in search of the familiar figure

She doesn’t see him through the storm, but there’s absolutely no doubt in her mind that he’s still out there

She waits a few minutes for lightning to strike again, but when it never comes, she turns around

She’s about to close the door behind her, but she decides against it as an idea comes to mind

Facing away from the door, she waits patiently, mentally counting back from 100

And before she even reaches 50, just like she thought, she suddenly feels him behind her

She should be scared

She most certainly shouldn’t have that small smile of victory on her face

When she hears the distinct click of her front door closing, and when the sound of the storm is muffled through the door once more, only then does she finally turn around

She’d think he wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating when he’s soaked, but she’d be wrong

The way his clothes cling to him only serves to further define his muscular build

She knew he was strong, she didn’t realize he was that strong

Water beads at the dark strands of his hair, framing his deep blue mask while his hoodie, darkened by the water, sticks to his toned body

A flash of lightning suddenly illuminates him from behind, and it somehow makes him look even taller and more intimidating than ever

She’s speechless

He’s attractive

The thought slips up before she can stop it

She clears her throat, trying to push the thought down, and in return, the man tilts his head to the side quizzically

Her face flushes, and she mentally curses herself out for getting so flustered so easily

A brief beat of silence fills the room as the implications of her actions dawn on her

But then, realizing she’s essentially gone past the point of no return, she speaks

“I… Do you want some tea?”

The offer comes out naturally, like second nature, as if she’s hosting an acquaintance and not some inhuman stranger

“…”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and (y/n) wonders if he’s also surprised by her behavior

But then he nods, and without hesitation, the girl turns and leaves to make her way to the kitchen

Standing there, alone in her entrance, dripping wet, Jack isn’t entirely sure what to do with himself

It’s not like he hasn’t been here before, but it’s definitely the first time he’s been here with her knowing and consenting

He feels awkward and out of place, but at the same time, he’s extremely curious as to what she might be planning

He knew there was something different about her—few people would’ve gone and done something like this

He hears her shuffling in the kitchen, opening the pantry and moving things around, and he wonders how she could be so trusting of him after everything he’s done

While she’s preparing the tea, he takes the opportunity to glance at the books she’d been buried in for most of the evening

Flipping the cover over to read the title brings a sharp smile to his face, and he chuckles to himself

Cute, she’s been trying to research him

He flips it back, returning to the page she was on, and reads through one of the paragraphs

It mentions something about demons, but the author was so glaringly making things up that it has Jack huffing

Who would even publish pseudo-garbage like this?

(Y/n) returns a few minutes later, holding a freshly brewed cup of tea and a plate of pastries he assumes were part of the ones she bought earlier today

“You know, it’ll probably be much more comfortable on the couch,” she suggests, nodding her head in the direction of the living room

He doesn’t say anything in response, too busy absorbing as many details of her face as he possibly can in a short amount of time

Because as much as he spends a lot of time watching her, seeing her up close remains a rarity

He usually only gets to see her like this when she’s sleeping, or for a brief few minutes at a time when he’s asking for supplies

As if sensing his eyeless gaze peering into her, she stiffens slightly, and then she shakes her head, as if to brush away a thought, and moves to the living room

He follows behind, sitting next to her on the couch, trying to leave a normal amount of space between the two despite his urge to get closer

And then he can’t help but wince as he’s suddenly acutely aware of how wet the cushions are getting beneath him

She offers him the tea, and he takes it between his hands, letting it warm him up from the storm

Being part demon comes with its perks, and having a resistance to temperatures is one of them, but it still doesn’t mean he’s entirely immune to discomfort

“…Thank you,” he eventually says

A brief look of surprise flashes over her face as he thanks her, but then she smiles

God, her smile’s really pretty, he thinks

“Listen…” she hesitates, and the sound of her voice snaps him out of a trance he didn’t even realize he’d fallen into

How long has he been staring at her lips?

“I… I really don’t know what your deal is,” she admits, “but I know… as crazy as it sounds, I know you’re not… completely human”

Again, he finds himself grinning beneath his mask

She’s been thinking about it—she’s been thinking about him

“And I… I guess I just figured that, you know… if you’re going to keep asking things from me, I, at the very least, want to know more about you. So that things are a bit more even, right?”

Jack takes a second to consider her words

Truth be told—sure, the extra supplies are nice to have as backups—but he doesn’t really need them

He’s only been using them as an excuse to see her more often, and now it seems like he’s finally getting somewhere with her

“What do you wanna know?”

It almost surprises (y/n) how quickly he agrees to opening up

She almost doesn’t know what to start with; she’d been so focused on the different reasons he should agree that she neglected to think of her first question

She decides on just going with the most obvious one

“What’s your name?”

“…Jack,” he answers evenly

Jack?

It, admittedly, somehow isn’t what she was expecting

Jack sounds so unassuming, so… normal

She mumbles his name, repeating it to herself, when she’s suddenly distracted as he pulls up his mask to take a sip of the tea

His jawline is straight-up perfection

An angular bone structure gives way to pretty lips, which carry a sharp-fanged smirk as he brings the rim to his mouth and drinks down the bitter liquid

His Adam’s apple bobs as he does so, and there’s something so effortlessly powerful about him that she’s once again rendered speechless

Jack replaces his mask over his mouth once he’s done

He likes the way his name sounds on her tongue, he decides, he should get her to say it more often

“If we’re asking questions,” he says, “it’s only fair I get a turn as well”

She snorts, the sound is involuntary

“…And what could you possibly have to ask that you wouldn’t already know?”

He snickers at the comment

She’s ballsy—he likes it

“I don’t know everything about you, (y/n),” he rumbles, and he savors the way she shifts in place at the sound of her name coming from his lips, “and your curiosity is mutual”

She pauses again, but then with a nod, she seems to agree

“Alright then, go ahead. Ask away”

For the remainder of the evening, they take turns asking their respective questions

(Y/n) generally answers openly and honestly, only hesitating when she thinks the answer might jeopardize her loved ones’ safety

Jack, on the other hand, is coy and sly about most of his answers, but the bare minimum information he provides seems enough to slake some of her curiosities

Talking to one another comes naturally

It’s easy, simple, and the flow of conversation is pleasantly interesting

Under any other circumstance, Jack knows they would’ve been good friends

He knows she’s still wary of him, rightfully so, and as much as he enjoys her fear, he can’t deny enjoying her friendship, either

He’s going to play nice from now on, he mentally promises himself

When she offers him a pastry, he doesn’t have it in him to refuse

Human food is, by far, his favorite—the texture feels like ash between his teeth, and the taste is bland at best—but he forces himself to swallow it down in a show of good faith

He stays longer than he’d expected, and by the time he realizes he should leave to let her sleep, the storm has died down, turning to a fine mist hanging in the night air

There’s a broad grin on his lips as he leaves for a hunt

Something tells him that won’t be the only time she lets him in

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless Jack #eyeless Jack x reader #crp ej

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captainlunaxmen · 4 months

Text

Just a Little More

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

And yet, here I am, once again.

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

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

"For what?" He asks, faking innocence.

"You want to see Nancy"

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatever"

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

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

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

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

"No, thanks" I shout back.

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

"I'll go get some air"

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

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

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

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

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

Could it be Casey from my art class?

Or maybe it's Kelly...

I really can't-

"Hello there"

A voice interrupts my stream of thoughts.

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

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

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

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

Where the hell is Steve when I need him?

"I feel very lucky tonight" he casually say.

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

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

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

"The later the better" he says softly.

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

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

"Yeah,I think. Max, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Careful there, gorgeous" he winks.

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

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

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

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

He's cut off by Steve's voice.

"There you are!"

He's drunk... already?

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

"Are you drunk already?" I ask.

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

"Yeah... sure" I say unconvinced.

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

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

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

Oh god...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

I walk him to the door.

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

"Uh?"

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

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

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

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

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

I help him upstairs and to his bed.

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

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

"I ruined your night" he mutters.

"What?" I'm confused.

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

"What are you talking about?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"To grab some water"

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

"Sure"

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

"You're welcome"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" I chuckle surprised.

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

What...

"Uh?"

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

Okay.. he's drunk.

"Sure" I say unconvinced.

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

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

"Hey!" He exclaims.

"What?" I ask.

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

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

"You don't believe me" he states.

"About what?"

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

Is it true?

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

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

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

"Stevie..."

"Kiss me?"

"Uh?" I ask taken aback.

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

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

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

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

"Great" he says cuddling more against me.

"Goodnight Steve"

" 'Night... love"

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

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

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strniohoeee · 5 months

Text

Poignant Pt. 2

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: After not seeing Matt for 4 months he finally reaches out, and wants to talk to Y/N…..he expresses certain feelings, but will Y/N feel the same?🫀

Warnings⚠️: None just cute or whatever I guess angst? This one’s short but still hope you enjoy it🫶🏽

Song for imagine: It Will Rain- Bruno Mars

Read Poignant Pt. 1 here

And pick up these broken pieces

Til I’m bleeding

If that’ll make you mine

Matt Stromboli🤭

-How about in this lifetime?🪻

I smiled down at his text, and went to answer him.

-Hey Matt

-Hey Y/N. How you been?

-I’ve been good. Just been working on myself for these past few months

-I’ve been thinking about you, do you think about me still?

-Of course I do Matt….

-We should see each other again

-I don’t know…that might open some wounds

-Wounds?

-Yeah, I’m not sure I’m ready to see you again

-Why not?

-I’m scared

-lmao scared of what??

-scared that when I see you my feelings will still be there

-that’s not a scary thing

-yeah it is….especially if the feelings aren’t mutual

-but what if they are?

-you don’t know that Matt. You might think you like me, but that’s not always the case

-Come see me please?

-where? And what time?

-tonight, the burger spot on the pier…6:30??

-yeah sure I’ll be there, see ya Matt

-see you later

Later on that day I had gotten ready to see Matt. I wasn’t sure how to feel. I felt like I still had feelings, but I also felt like I just missed him as a whole, as my friend. I wasn’t sure how seeing his face was going to affect me.

I had Ubered to the pier, and I got there at about 6:25, so I walked to the restaurant. My nerves making me nauseous and anxious.

I got to the restaurant, and told them I was meeting someone so I walked until I spotted Matt. My stomach instantly churning. I walked to the booth and sat down

“Hi” I said looking at him

“Hey Y/N” he said smiling at me, that goddamn smile

“It’s been so long,” I said looking at his face. How can someone change so much in four months

“It has. You look great” he said looking at me

“Thank you. You look great too” I said smiling at him

“Thank you..nothings change” he said laughing a little bit

“You just look so different” I said looking at him

“Could be the hair, or the tattoos” he said looking down at his hair

“Yeah it could be” I said nodding at him

We had gotten dinner and barely spoke…this weird tension always in between us….I just didn’t know how to feel at all. Did I like him or did I not?

We walked on the pier and sat down watching the sunset

“I um I’m not sure what to say” Matt said quietly

“I mean you don’t have to say anything” I told him

“No I do. I just don’t like how that day went” he said looking out to the waves

“It’s okay Matt. We’ve grown from it, and I’m okay. It was needed” I said looking over at him

“I just…man I don’t know. As soon as you left I felt this pain in my chest” he said blinking

“Well I left all you guys” I said looking at the water too

“I feel like I made the wrong decision” he said

“I don’t think you did. I think some part of you feels bad for rejecting me, and you’re making yourself like me, but I just think you miss your friend” I said to him

“Do you still like me?” He asked still not looking at me

“I’m not sure Matt. I came here wondering how I’d feel and if all those feelings would come back, but I uh I feel at peace” I said still looking at the waves

“I really like you” he blurted out

“I don’t think you do. You like the idea of me, but you don’t actually like me” I told him

“Stop hurting yourself by denying it. I fucking like you” he said shaking his head

“Matt, we haven't seen each other for four months. How can you just now say you like me” I said defeated

“Because I've always liked you, and I was so dumb to see that….it has always been you” he said

“Matt….” I said looking over at him

“It really has, and I’m such an idiot for taking so long to realize. I checked everyday if you’d be active on social media, if you’d comment on anything, my finger hovered over your contact. I so badly wanted to call you everyday, but I just couldn’t” he said shaking his head

“I’m glad you didn’t call.” I said to him

“What?” He said looking at me

“I feel like if you called me you would’ve kept me on this string of false hope. I needed to be away from you” I told him truthfully

“I was so stupid” he said

“It’s okay.” I said to him

“I want you, and only you” he said looking at me

“Don’t say things you don’t mean” I said looking at him

“I mean it okay! Stop pushing me away” he said getting a little upset

“I don’t want to get hurt again” I said looking down

“I would never do that to you….again” he said

“I don’t know” I said shaking my head

“Please Y/N” he said pleading

“Matt I don’t know that I see myself with you” I told him

“Kiss me, and tell me you don’t feel the same” he said

I looked up at him, looking into his eyes searching for an answer, but I didn’t find one.

I reluctantly leaned in and connected our lips. It was a kiss that made the whole world stop, it made all my problems float away….Its Matt it’s always been him, and I never wanted to pull away. With him I felt safe and loved

We pulled away, and looked at each other

“Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I will walk out of your life for good, and never bother you again” he said looking into my eyes

“Matt it’s you….it will always be you” I said smiling before pulling him in again, crashing our lips together

Kissing Matt felt like stepping outside into an empty field on a warm evening while watching a beautiful sunset overhead. This kid was my sunset….hes mine, he’s my safety net

“I’m never leaving you” he said rubbing my cheek

“I’d hope not” I said leaning into his touch

“Come home with me” he said

“Of course Matt” I whispered before we got up, and headed out to Matt’s car. Getting in and heading to the triplets house.

I guess Matt’s mine in this lifetime, and in another🪻

The End

I want to write another sad imagine, but nothing pertaining to death of the triplets….Im thinking like an actual….yk what let me not explain my ideas I wanna make yall cry 🤞🏽🤭 anywhooo hope you liked this one💋

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagines #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

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ken-dom · 6 months

Note

Hi this is the same anon who asked about the mommy kink with ken but I was hoping you’re request was open because I had an idea it could be for like Ken or Lars you can pick so it was about how reader would go out with there friends and Ken or Lars misses then really bad you can add some smut in there maybe ?

Love your work can’t wait to read more 💖🫶🏾

Hi darling, sorry for the wait! This immediately made me think of Lars when his possessive side shows a little, but equally, imagine Ken pining for you when you’re out for a couple of hours… how delicious! So I wrote a little Ken blurb about that with a slightly smutty ending 🫶🩷 (nsfw)

You stumble through the door close to midnight, trying to be as quiet as possible as you tiptoe up the stairs, avoiding the steps you know might creak and wake him up. But on reaching the top, you see your bedroom lit up by the low, flickering light of the tv.

‘Ken?’ you whisper, wondering if he fell asleep watching Real Housewives again.

‘Oh thank god!’ Ken screeches, leaping off the bed and throwing his arms around you, squeezing tight.

‘Ken,’ you muffle against his chest, ‘I was only gone a few hours. I thought you’d be asleep!’

‘Oh I uh-’ Ken loosens his grip and drops back, averting his gaze. ‘I couldn’t sleep! I really tried but it would work!’

‘Why, what’s wrong?’ you ask, concerned and looking him over. His eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks are damp.

He sees you’ve noticed and shuffles backward to the bed, dropping down onto it. ‘Nothing…’

‘Ken, whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help you.’

‘I couldn’t sleep… because… I missed you. I’m used to you being right here-’ he gestures to the space beside him where you usually sleep; taking a breath to calm himself, ‘but I was just here,’ he gestures to himself this time, ‘alone and bored, and I needed… well, I needed…

He sobs then, tears slipping relentlessly down his cheeks.

‘You needed me here to get to sleep?’

He looks up at you through big, wet eyes. ‘…Yeah. Look, I know I’m Just Ken. And I can be Just Ken, I really can! I went to the supermarket on my own tonight and bought snacks! But it’s just… now I know what it’s like to share a bed with you… and to feel loved… it does kinda make me want to be your And Ken…’

Your heart sinks at his sad expression, head hung low in shame. You hook a finger under his chin and tilt his head up. ‘Well I can do something about the sleep part easily enough now I’m home,’ you promise. ‘Give me a few minutes, ok?’

Ken nods eagerly, watching carefully and leaning to follow your shadow as you you disappear into the bathroom.

He hasn’t moved an inch when you emerge five minutes later. You smile at his eager face. ‘Come here, My Ken.’

You stand between his legs and slide your arms around his shoulders, pulling his head close to your chest for a moment and feeling him melt before gently pushing him to lay back on the bed and climbing up to settle beside him.

‘Oh-’ Ken moans, a little too loudly, when you guide him down.

‘What is it?’

Ken doesn’t answer, but when he snuggles into you, you feel it. There’s a hot blush creeping over his cheeks and a tent forming in his pyjamas, pressing into your thigh. He ruts against you a little, whimpering at the friction.

It’s all still so new to him, you bite your lips together, trying not to giggle at how easy he is to rile up.

‘Was it the way I pushed you back?’ You know it was the My Ken too, but you don’t want to overwhelm him with too many explanations for his arousal at once. There’ll be time for that.

‘Mmhmm,’ he whines, brow furrowing, ‘is- is that normal?’

‘Very.’

You straddle him immediately, your clothed cores brushing together, and he gasps, loud and needy.

‘Y-your Ken?’ he breathes.

‘My Ken.’

His eyes slide shut and he bucks his hips up against you again, biting his lip at the thrill it sends through him.

‘Oh, you’re so hot like this,’ you coo, dragging a careful palm down his smooth chest where his shirt lies open as always. ‘All needy and sexy and hard just for me… want me to really help you get to sleep now?’

‘Mmhmm-’

#not s f w 💀#ken x reader #ken smut #ken imagines #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling ken x reader #ken-dom answers

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dotieeee · 10 months

Text

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, etc, 18+ only!!

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again.

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

PART II here!!!!

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

***

#dark!dream x reader #dark!dream x you #dark!morpheus fic #dark!morpheus x you #dark!morpheus x reader #dark!dream oneshot #dark!dream of the endless #dark!morpheus fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfiction

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mychoombatheroomba · 4 months

Text

Say You'll Be There

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 8

You and Leon find some common ground.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Everything hurt.

More than what Leon was used to, now. His mouth stung, his back and shoulder - his shoulder especially - ached, and his legs screamed with each step he took. Still, that night after dinner, he found himself walking towards the training yard again.

The evening was well and truly on its way, heralded by the song of distant crickets. No radio music yet, Leon realized as he made his way to your usual spot, so little sound to distract from the aching of his legs. Just the whispers of an incoming nighttime, and the muted conversation you were having with a red beret-wearing Major. You’d cleaned the blood from under your nose, changed your shirt to one that wasn’t stained red. Even with the bruises forming on your face, you looked less defeated than you had hours before, and Leon was relieved by that.

He was less happy to see Krauser. Not after the day the two of you had been subjected to. Still, he couldn’t see any animosity in your eyes as you spoke, even though you’d objectively had the worst of it.

But then, you’d asked for the worst, hadn’t you? And Leon understood why better than anyone in the world, now.

You looked Leon’s way as he approached, and Krauser must have caught the look. “Ah, rookie,” the Major raised a brow as he looked over his shoulder, and Leon did his best not to look too furious with the man. “Guess the run wasn’t that bad, if you’re coming back for more after hours.”

It was a little jab, but still one that found its way past the wall of calm Leon had built up that evening.

“I’m not here for running,” he said, and Krauser grinned.

Seeing that expression made Leon brace himself. Was he here to give another lesson in the form of cruelty? With all that the Major had let happen today, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

“Oh, I know.” Would it be more running? Pushups? Or would he fight Leon then and there? Whatever it was, he just hoped it would be over sooner rather than later. “I can’t say much about you, rookie,” the hulking man began, clasping his hands behind his back, “but coming to the Sergeant for help was smart. God knows you need the practice.”

Leon’s eyebrows rose. It was a compliment. One delivered alongside an insult, true, but it was still more genuine a show of approval from Krauser than he’d ever gotten before.

“Now if only you’d learn to respect the chain of command and lose the heroics, you might even be a good soldier.” There it was. The gruff contempt that Leon had come to know the Major for. It fed Leon’s anger, but your expression soothed it. You were amused, even if it was buried beneath something more difficult to read. He could see it in the way one corner of your mouth curved up, your chest rising and falling with a little huff. It was well hidden away by the time Krauser turned back to you. “See if you can get it through that thick skull of his.”

“I’ll do what I can, sir,” you said, your voice steadier than it had been before.

Krauser nodded, unclasping his hands and beginning to make his way to the officer’s barracks. Leon felt himself relax when he was gone.

But then, he looked over to you and a new kind of tension came rushing in.

There was no knife in your hands tonight, and even now that you had the opportunity, you made no move to grab one. Your eyes were fixed on him, pensive and calm. Like you had found an answer you’d been looking for. “How are you feeling?” you asked, even if you probably already knew.

“Like a million bucks,” Leon huffed, giving a wry smile that hurt his now-swollen lip.

You exhaled, huffing through your nose. It made you wince, but you smiled through it. “You’re not a good liar, Kennedy.”

“No, not one of my strong suits,” he admitted. “What about you? Are you alright?”

He half expected you to say that you were fine - to hide behind that untouchable facade that he’d mistaken for you, at first. That mask wasn’t gone, not completely, but you’d let him see underneath it. You, quite literally, had shown him your scars. Proof that you weren’t invincible. He supposed that was why you shrugged and gave an honest answer. “I feel like shit,” you sighed. “But nothing’s broken. Andersen just hit me in a . . .” you trailed off, grimacing like you’d said too much. Even so, you continued. “Well, I guess it’s still healing.” You gestured to your side, where Leon now knew your old wound was.

One piece of the puzzle that made you up - one that made the image clearer, yes, but highlighted everything else Leon was missing all the same.

You’d been a soldier. A Sergeant. Something had happened to give you those scars. You wore three dog tags instead of two.

I couldn’t save a lot of people.

Neither could I.

Would you have told him more, if you’d had the time? Was that why you were waiting for him now, instead of grabbing a knife? He didn’t know. He didn’t know and he was afraid to shatter the trust you’d already placed in him by looking for details.

The trouble was that the fear was fighting something a lot stronger. Curiosity wasn’t the right word, nor concern.

Empathy, maybe.

He didn’t want to think about what it might mean if it were something stronger than empathy.

So, he would start with a small question. One that you could answer and then move on from easily. “When did it happen?”

Your lashes shadowed your eyes, and Leon held his breath.

“Just over a year ago.” Your voice was small, and you swallowed, looking back towards him. Leon was distantly aware of the radio playing, but it might as well have been a whisper next to your words. “I started moving on it too soon, I think. That’s why it still gives me trouble sometimes.”

He knew that sort of pain. His shoulder still hurt sometimes from where a bullet had found its way home - another bit of agony he’d taken to spare someone else. Another hurt that hadn’t meant anything, in the end.

“Can they do anything about it?”

“Other than rest and painkillers? Don’t think so, no.” You sounded grimly amused by the idea.

“Can’t really picture you resting,” Leon said, and you shook your head.

“No. It feels better to be doing something,” you said simply.

“Easier to keep your mind off things,” he offered, and you almost smiled. Maybe you would have, if the topic was something happier.

“Yeah.” A moment of silence stretched between the two of you, and Leon could tell that you would rather be fiddling with a knife. “Doesn’t always work, though,” you added, your gaze dropping to the ground. Like you were ashamed to admit that your thoughts drifted to a near death experience so often.

Another thing that Leon understood too well.

“No, it doesn’t.”

You studied him, your mouth pulled into a line and your brows drawn together. He’d never imagined seeing you like this - to be talking to you like this. Even if this was where the conversation ended, it would be more than he could have hoped for. Knowing the two of you had that common ground, that you were going through some of the same things, would have been enough.

Enough for him, but not enough for you, it seemed.

“You said you lost people in Raccoon City?”

Leon flinched, and a few faces came to memory. Last words spoken.

It’s on you, now.

Take care of yourself, Leon.

“Yeah.”

“Did they turn?”

Leon blinked. Rumor had spread about what happened there. People knew, even if the government wanted the finer details kept hidden. Still, the way you said it . . . “Yeah. Some of them.”

You nodded, swallowing thick. “I wasn’t in Raccoon City,” you began, answering the question Leon hadn’t needed to ask, “but I’ve seen them. Bioweapons. I’ve seen what they turn people into. And I saw it because my people - the ones I lost - were trying to protect me and forgot to protect themselves.” Your words were all salt and vinegar, and the memory you were experiencing was heavy enough that Leon felt it pressing down on both of you. There were so many questions and truths, all flying about his head too fast for him to catch. And among them, louder than all the rest, there was one thought that sank its claws into him and wouldn’t let go.

Not you, too.

He would never wish his experience in Raccoon City on another soul, least of all you. Hearing it tore into him, venomous and seeping sorrow into him. Sorrow and rage that the world had let such a thing happen more than once, if at all. Sorrow and rage that he saw reflected on your own face. Then, something in your gaze shifted. “I know why you stepped in today, but you need to let me succeed or fail on my own.”

You were right, he supposed, but Leon still found himself shaking his head. “I can’t just stand by while-”

“You can,” you stepped forward, your brows knitting together, “and you will. None of us can become reliant on other people to save us.” He’d only ever heard you sound so forceful in combat - when your voice would become like the steel in your hand.

But you’d been teaching him how to counter that steel.

“If we were out there together, you would have my back, wouldn’t you?”

Your eyes flashed, just for a moment. “In the field, yes-”

“Then let me have your back, too.”

You paused, your lips parted and your eyes searching his own - looking for something Leon couldn’t know. All he could do was hold your gaze, however much it made his heart beat a little faster than it should have. It gave him time to wonder why he was even having this argument with you - why he’d really gone out to help you in the first place.

He cared for you. Even if it didn’t feel like it was his right to, he cared for you.

“You can have my back,” you said, your voice just as serious as before, but a newfound softness in the curve of your brow. “And you can do it by letting me learn. Even if it’s from a bloody nose or a hard hit.” He was about to protest, but you went on, the intensity of your gaze keeping him quiet. “And if I ever do need your help, I will ask for it, just like you asked me.”

“Okay.” It was all that could be said. Your mind was made up, there was no point in him trying to change it. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down and away from you. “It was just . . . hard to watch.”

“Ass-kickings usually are,” you said, a little humor in your voice. “You’ll have to get used to it. Won’t be the last time.”

He hated that you were right. He hated that you had gotten so used to being hurt, you were defending the people and the system that did it. “How do you?” he asked, looking back into your eyes. “Get used to it?” He was asking about more than just seeing someone else in pain.

Your mouth tightened, almost a frown. Shadows danced across your face. “I don’t know.”

And there was the crushing truth of it. All the skills in the world, and even you couldn’t fight back what had happened to you, what you had seen. If you couldn’t move past what had happened, then how could he ever hope to?

He was so caught up in that thought, he almost didn’t catch the rest of your words.

“Guess we’ll have to figure that out together.”

Leon didn’t mean to look at you with such disbelief, but his eyes widened all the same. What he saw from you, though, was steadiness. A rock for him to swim to in the storm. If you needed it, he would do all he could to be the same for you.

“That works for me.”

The two of you shared a quiet moment, then. Quiet but for the radio that now played from the bunkhouse. Bluegrass. There was no escaping it.

Leon found himself, for the first time in his life, wishing the Spice Girls were playing.

Eventually, you moved, taking quick steps to where the training knives were laid out. No rest. Not for you, and not for Leon. It was what both of you needed. Still, as you approached him, moving carefully so as not to aggravate your side, he couldn’t help but ask. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answered without hesitation.

He must not have looked convinced.

“We’ll go slow. Like yesterday. Need to clear my head.”

You held out a single knife to him, handle first. After all that you had shown him today, all that you had been through, you were handing him the weapon, trusting him with it. Maybe he was reading too much into the gesture. After all, he knew better than anyone that even unarmed, you were dangerous.

Dangerous, but not in the inhuman way you’d seemed to be, at first.

“You think that’s Krauser playing that music every night?” If a clear head was what you needed, maybe the little question would help.

You just raised an eyebrow. “I know it is.”

Leon balked, snorting a laugh. “How would you know that?”

“Because every time he turns in, the music comes on.”

“And I thought your taste in music was bad.”

The look you gave him as he held out the knife, waiting for your hand, was one that promised peril, even now. Even with how tired you both had to be. “You trying to piss me off?” You asked, a warning.

Leon grinned, not caring that it reopened the scab on his lip. “Is it working?”

He wasn’t even sure how you did it, if he was being honest. All he knew was that one moment his arm was extended towards you, and the next, it was being pushed back into him, the knife coming towards his neck while still in his own hand. He hadn’t been ready for the move, and with the speed and strength you used, there wasn’t much he could do but suck in a sharp breath as you stopped the knife just short of him. You were close to him - so, so close - as you smirked. “You’ll have to try a little harder than that.”

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#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

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