#The Girl In The Woods (TV Series) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misty-caligula · 11 months

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Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.

I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.

I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.

Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.

Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?

Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.

(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)

You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)

And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.

Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.

It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...

Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.

Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...

Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...

No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.

Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.

Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.

The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.

But Shauna took it first.

Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.

The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.

And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.

Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.

Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls.

When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.

When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.

And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.

How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.

Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.

Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.

Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.

Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.

Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.

What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.

Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.

So...

They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...

And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.

So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.

(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)

And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.

It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.

S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.

And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together, with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.

*takes a deep breath*

Which brings us to THIS asshole.

Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.

Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.

Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.

Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.

In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?

Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.

Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.

So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.

In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks

Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.

And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.

(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)

Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.

Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.

It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.

And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.

At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.

And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.

Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.

This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.

Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...

They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.

They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...

They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.

I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).

But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.

#yellowjackets #spoilers #theories #Long post #no really long post

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pedge-page · 4 months

Text

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife # 7: House Pet

Can be read with others in series or standalone

Warnings: unprotected sex, slight Daddy kink, suggestive of oral M receiving, annoying reader and annoyed Joel

18 + ONLY

- - - -

You watch one depressing commercial of shivering dogs left emaciated in the cold begging for love and care, and all the water in your entire body comes flooding out in tears.

“J-j-j"—snUFFF—“JOeeeOEeeeoelllLLLL!!!" You wail, wiping your snot on his shirt sleeve while curled up against him. “THEY NWEEEDDD MWEEEEE!!!!”

“You wanna donate?”

N-d—nooo--“sniffle—“wanna -wa-wanna aa-ad-ad-opt—“

He chuckles like its some obvious joke, but when he sees the absolute shine in your giant eyes staring pleadingly at him, he puts his foot down as gently as possible: “Honey, we can’t have a dog right now. With you—being like this, and a baby on the way, I’ve got enough on my plate as is. Wanna make sure you and babygirl are well taken care of first, okay?”

There’s a tense silence hanging in the air as you seize a breath in your throat.

And then you’re LOSING IT, whining and crying like a child into his face.

“Jesus,” he mumbles softly, gently stroking your hair, hushing little shhhhh into your forehead and rocking you in his arms like a baby in a cradle— a giant baby stuffed with another baby currently rattling the emotions of the big baby.

He's given you a cup of water for bed and tucking you in, picking up the litany of tissues tossed around you, while you refuse to quit your puffy eye’d and endless barrage of tears.

By the next morning, swollen lids yet calm, he thought he’d heard the last of it last night. And you were doing much better mood wise—no cries, though a little cold shoulder to him. He gives you a few hours till you’re over it and asking for ice cream like nothing happened.

Until now, five days later where every minute is just a retort to his face about getting a dog.

When you best friend comes over to give you extra baby clothes:

"Aww your girl named her puppy Winston? That's so adorable! Joel, ya hear that??” You peak loudly so he can hear from the kitchen. “Too bad I don’t have a puppy named Winston.”

"When you have our daughter, she can get a puppy named Winston"

"Oh! Already picking her over me for getting a dog?"

He rolls his eyes, tuning out to focus on making you biscuits that are too salty so you’ll have something else to whine about.

During movie night:

“…If only I had a dog to help keep my feet warm on the couch.”

He shovels a fist full of popcorn into his tilted back, wide mouth. “‘At’s what a blanket’s for.” he yanks your favorite soft one over your toes and keeps his eyes on the TV.

To the neighbor that just fucking moved in two weeks ago:

"Joel doesn't kiss me enough. If I had a dog, I wouldn't complain as much since the pup would love me unconditionally."

He grits his teeth, excusing himself to the bathroom.

At Tommy’s place for a Sunday BBQ:

“Bought the wood second hand—I re constructed our living room myself,” he says braggingly, drawing a beer from the cooler.

"Yeah, Tommy, it’s real nice.” You charm, and you can already see Joel's fist clench at his side. “Would look even better with a dog in the window."

“Wish I had a fluffy dog to cuddle instead of your big ass."

"My husband spoils me so much. He usually gets me anything I want without asking! Unless it's a dog ..."

Joel finishing adding furniture to the baby room.

"You know what else this room could use?”

"A dog bed, a dog blanket, a dog.”

"If you say-one more-god damn thing-about the dog..." he huffs.

"What dog? We don't even have a dog."

"We don't-need one. Got a cat in the house already."

He thrusts in again with a grunt, your trail of thought disappearing for a second just as Joel’s fat cock penetrates you.

The two of you are lying sideways on the bed, his chest pressed flush against your back. With your leg just barely propped up with his masculine arm hooked under your knee, a hand splayed protectively over your big belly, he has enough room to slot his length into your achy sopping cunt, slowly fucking you with harsh little jolts. You grip the back of his neck, fingers clutched in his sweaty locks, feeling his hot breath dampening your collar.

He lets out a pained hiss. “This lil pussy right here is all the animal I can handle now. Now quit it.”

His hips begin to crash lightly over your ass, rutting his tip deeper into you with muffled slaps. He loves the sight of your now largely grown thighs jiggling with each impact. Loves the feeling of your swollen breasts suffocating his other hand. Loves the knowledge of his wife so stuffed full of him for everyone to see.

You moan lightly, clenching around him at the leisure, unhurried yet pent up pleasure coursing through you. But your mind wonders again. “If you don't want a rescue we can get a certain breed: How about a malnoise? Or something smaller like a corgi? Or aussie. Oh Pitties are so cute!"

He rolls his eyes, nose buried in your hair. How are you even able to have a coherent conversation right now while he's rearranging your guts? Rather than hushing you with another quit it, he decides to entertain you. "Jesus woman. Ain't pitties all mean?"

"Nooooo —mmm baby, right there—“ you whine, panting in sync as you lowly try to hump him back. “Protective, intimidating looking.” You smile, mouth agape and eyes closed when he hits that sweet spot deep inside. “Just—like you, big ol sweethearts…Who give their wives exactly what they fucking want—like a dog."

“Christ.” The hand from under your leg glides over your wet clit, his rough digits rubbing fast circles while his other free arm unfolds from under your throat to grip it lightly. His knees bend so he can rock just his hips with ferocious power, railing with the intent to fuck you so dumb, you can’t help but shut up. “One more peep and I'm switching us up and gonna fuck you like one.”

You really didn’t want to —resorting to this lounging position because your back hurt too much to be fucked doggy, and the baby weighed too heavily to ride him. Thank God his cock was fucking huge—it could reach deep into you at any position. No fucking wonder you got pregnant so easily.

“no- no Daddy, I'll be good," you hum. "Unfff—mmm-yeah—yeah! Fuuuck—fuck me baby that’s it!” You shout. Joel’s hand works endlessly on your little nub, now at the mercy of his ministrations to get you off since you can’t reach yourself anymore. You grip your belly and cry, walls convulsing around his meat with a much needed orgasm. Joel follows suit not too long after, biting your shoulder as his hips still against your ass, pumping you full of his pearly cum.

The two of you stay in the same position, breathing heavily as you come down from your respective highs.

His eyes close, breath slowing and getting deeper in relaxation as his fingers lightly dance over your swole bump.

You feel the gentle cooling breeze of the fan spinning above you. Sighing contently now filled with your husband’s love and caressed with his tender hands.

“…So I was thinking, when we get a dog..."

"WE ARE NOT GETTIN’ A DOG AND THAT’S FINAL."

Tommy comes over and can tell something is up between you two. When Joel leaves the room, he asks "so what is it this week with Joel?"

"He won't get me--what do you mean THIS week??"

"Nothing nothing, he won't get you a what?"

"A dog. I want a dog. He doesn’t want a dog. So I don’t understand why he can’t compromise and get a dog.”

He laughs. “Honey, cuz that’s not a compromise. You know why he won't get you one, right?"

"Cuz he doesn't want to take care of me, a baby, and the dog at the same time"

"Nah. He's worried you'll only want the dog’s affection, and the baby gets the rest of your attention. Then you won’t have anything left for him.”

“…Oh!"

Later that night, Joel is still steaming from your earlier conversation after sex, having no regard for listening to another thing you had to say the rest of the day. You waddle into the bedroom, looking apologetic as possible with your hands held behind your back. He only looks up from the bed to see you: in his large T shirt with nothing else, freshly lavender scented from your bath, and big pleading child-like eyes full of sorrow. He purses his lips before returning to his book, glasses perched on his nose.

You approach Joel with an apology gift that you hid behind your back: a stuffed wolf.

He smiles gently unable to even pretend to hold his temper against you. you kiss the tip of his nose as he caresses your smoothed bump. “You're my favorite dog anyway,” you say warmly. “Needy. Grumpy. Likes food. Gives me kisses."

“Thought I didn’t give ya enough kisses? Least that’s what you told neighbor.”

“That was—a lie.” You bat your eyes cutely. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Mmmm,” is all he says, his eyes raking over your curves just barely covered now due to your size. “I don’t know, Daddy might need more apologies — ya did treat me real bad this week.”

You hum sadly, nuzzling yourself against his chest. your hand trails down his firm middle, all the way to the growing tent sticking up from his boxers.

“I can lick it better,” you whisper seductively in his ear, nipping at his pulse point.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

And after one of your famous deep throated blow job with Joel's balls happily emptied in your already full belly, he leans over to his side table and pulls the drawer open, holding something tight in his hand.

You just barely stop yourself from falling asleep with your head on his lap when he dangles a dog collar above your head. You sit up, inspecting it with grubbing hands: it has your home address etched on to the metal plate, but no name on it.

“What you want me to be your dog? I’ll wear the collar but I’m not getting on my knees, nor crawling around and drinking from dog bowls and shitting in the yard—“

“No angel,” he shushes you. Although the image of you wearing the collar, naked and heavily pregnant on your knees in front of him wasn’t a bad idea at all…he shakes his head from the delusion. ”Aint for you. Thought about it—but ONLY after have the baby and are settled, and ya know IF —and that’s a mighty big if—we find one that’s not too rough shape, got a good sense about ‘im, then MAYBE I’ll consider it.”

"Oh my god! Thank you! Thankyouthankyou--"

"I said IF sweetheart. Got along road ahead till then."

"I'll give you as many blow jobs as you want."

"You already do that for yourself."

"Yeah but... how about I sit on your face? Fully?"

His ears perk up. "Yeah?"

"After the baby is born," you quip, smirking with more confidence then your swollen body can muster trying to wiggle away from his grasp like a devious chubby oompa lumpa. He just laughs to himself as you slip down the bed, and the sudden urge to pee has you B-lining to the bathroom.

- - - -

Series Masterlist

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IV. “I Trust You Know What You’re Doing?”

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

Struggling with the forced separation of your transfer and promotion, it does not take long for you and Bucky to plan a trip to London together. But even while you're on leave, the world around you continues to do its best to tear itself apart.

Warnings: Language, Grief, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [oral - f receiving, implied virginity loss, protected vaginal sex, condoms, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Welcome to this massive installment. I have no excuses, only apologies. Also I only had the fortitude to proof this once, there may be more errors than normal, but I didn't want to delay it any longer - I will correct things as I find them. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

ETA: The image descriptions for the letters contain the text within to allow for a screen reader or anyone who cannot read cursive. Click the ‘ALT’ button to access.

Word Count: 8497

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

Wycombe Abbey could not have been more different than Thorpe Abbotts if it had tried.

The private, or in a most confusing twist ‘public’ as the Brits called such institutions, girls’ school had begun its life in the 17th century as a manor house before being transformed into a much grander residence near the end of the 19th century. The school had opened in 1896 with only forty students, but that number had swelled to over two hundred by the time the building was requisitioned for use as the Headquarters of the 8th Air Force.

Stained glass windows, stonework, archways, and wood panelling now replaced squat concrete buildings and rough-and-ready Nissen huts. Though everything was just as drafty, so at least the temperature provided some familiar consistency to your new surroundings. As you descended from your quarters tucked away in some forgotten corner of the attic, down a set of precarious servants’ stairs, you nearly took a wrong turn – again. To your credit you had only been here three days and the maze of corridors and rooms further divided into offices for USAAF purposes was nearly unnavigable.

Chiding yourself softly under your breath that your office was to the right and not the left, as though the sharpness of your tone might really drive it home this time, you quickened your steps still hoping to beat to postal clerk to the outgoing mail box that sat on the corner of your desk. It had been more of a challenge than you were expecting to write the letter clutched in your hand, but the daily meetings that senior operations officers held at 1015, 1600, and 2200 were your responsibility to attend and record via frantically scribbled notes to be typed up in a more professional format later.

These were the meetings at which mission targets for the entire 8th were chosen. The strategic value of various locations was discussed alongside weather reports and aligning with the RAF’s Bomber Command for maximum impact against Nazi Germany. After the first meeting, it would be decided if a mission would even be conducted the following day, and each Division, Wing, and Base involved would be put on alert to allow them time to begin planning the operation. By the time the last meeting ended, the target and approach would be finalized, and the official field orders would be issued.

It made for a remarkably long day, even with breaks for meals, and though you were guaranteed every other Friday off because of this, by the time you crawled into bed near midnight, you only had enough energy to add a few lines onto the letter you had begun to Bucky as soon as you arrived. It made for a rather disjointed and rambling piece of correspondence, in your opinion, but you could not bear to keep him waiting any longer – not wanting him to assume you had forgotten to write and not knowing how long the thing would take to reach him regardless.

Dashing into the office you shared with Myrtle, a very stoic young woman with dark hair and thick eyelashes from Rhode Island, you exhaled in relief to see the post still waiting to be collected and added your letter to the pile. Unlocking your desk drawers, you began setting up for the day, hoping it would reach him quickly.

His reply arrived in your inbox just over two weeks later, near the end of September. Sliding it into your brown leather utility bag, you did your utmost to ignore its very existence throughout the first daily meeting, and your subsequent production of the official report thereof. Taking your lunch break a little earlier than usual paid off in that the line was much shorter at that time. You inhaled the mystery stew and rolls, hardly tasting them, before taking your letter outside to read in the rare afternoon sunshine.

It was short, and it was unspeakably adorable that Bucky did not write in cursive, but there was no lack of his personality in his response. It was as though the very essence of him had been distilled into the ink itself and you could not help the broad grin that bore its way into the muscles of your cheeks, making them ache as you read it.

Glancing quickly at your watch, you realized there was still time to send a reply before the second post pick-up but based on the length of time it had taken for this exchange of letters, it was unlikely another would reach him with enough time to plan for October 8 – your next Friday off. Worrying your lip between your teeth as you considered your options, you landed on a rather devious idea, one that quite honestly would have never come to you if not for the deep need to reach Bucky immediately. Vi had a telephone on her desk in the weather office, a number that you had access to given the strategic importance of weather to the senior operations officers.

Myrtle would be on her break for another fifteen minutes…you had not even realized you had made up your mind before your feet began to carry you back inside, up the stairs into the mercifully still-empty office. Digging out the directory, you found the number for Thorpe Abbotts’ weather office and took a shaky breath as you sank into your chair.

‘Keep it brief, keep it free of classified information. Worst you’ll get is a reprimand.’

The devious, deceptive voice in your mind was a new one, fostered, perhaps, by the rather carefree man you found yourself deeply entangled with, but it was not one you were about to disobey. Lifting the handset of your phone from its cradle, you cleared your throat as the operator answered.

“Norfolk 7315, please.” You tried your best to sound calm and collected as the line clicked and began to ring.

“Phillips.” An unexpected voice answered, and you gulped, knowing Ruth would be less likely to participate in some romantic scheme.

You greeted her in kind, trying to ignore the ache of loneliness as she gasped softly.

“I was hoping you might pass along a message for me?”

“To a certain Major?” You could hear the grin in her voice and felt the pressure on your chest ease.

“Indeed. October 8. I will arrange accommodations.”

“Your line should he need to reach you?”

Hesitating a moment, you ultimately decided to provide it as well, wanting to ensure he could in fact contact you if something came up. Or perhaps any of them could – should the worst happen.

‘Don’t think about that.’ You chastised yourself internally.

“You’re well?” Ruth asked and you smiled softly.

“I am, please tell everyone I miss them terribly.”

“Will do, have to go.”

There was a ‘click’ as she hung up and the line went dead but the lightness in your heart could not be extinguished.

Nine days later you found yourself waiting on the platform at Liverpool Street station awaiting the arrival of Bucky’s train from East Anglia. Given the proximity of High Wycombe to London, you had arrived much earlier that morning and checked into the hotel already, dropping off your small bag and come to wait for his train – well you assumed he’d be on the first train of the day, but as the carriages disgorged a sea of humanity and you had yet to spot him, your brows began to furrow in doubt.

You were about to fish the folded schedule you had picked up from the ticket counter to check the next arrival time when he was suddenly wrapping an arm around you, pulling you tight into his chest as you gasped softly in surprise.

“There you are doll.” Bucky sighed, dropping his bag at your feet to slide the other arm around you as he pulled back to nudge your cap out of the way and deliver a breathtakingly thorough kiss that you were not entirely sure was appropriate for the public setting you were in.

Not that you stopped him, you own arms snaking about his midsection to cling to him tightly.

Pulling back, his eyes raked over your features lovingly as you both inhaled deeply to fill your greedy lungs.

“Well, well 1st Lieutenant.” He smirked proudly as he lifted his hand to stroke the chrome insignia you now wore on your lapels courtesy of your promotion, leaving smudges of his thumb print.

“You are leaving my uniform in disarray, Major.” You chided playfully, unable to hold back you grin, even for a moment, to sell the joke.

His forefinger hooked behind the knot in your tie, tugging it out from beneath your jacket and pulling you closer – eliminating the last few inches of space that remained between your bodies.

“Good.” He rumbled against your lips before kissing you deeply, severely undermining the infrastructure of your knees.

The loud racket of the train cars as they shunted into one another jolted the pair of you apart, making you realize you were among the last few remaining on the platform as the now empty train left the station.

“Let’s get you checked in and your bag dropped off.” You murmured, clearing your throat as you unbuttoned your uniform jacket to straighten and re-secure your tie.

His hand slid into yours as the pair of you made your way out of the station and he happily followed you to a hotel you’d found near his station, knowing that he’d be here longer than you and it would be easier for him to find his way back to base this way. Sitting patiently in the lobby as he checked in and ran his bag up, you smiled as he returned to hold his hands out to you.

“C’mon doll, I have a whole plan.”

Taking his hands, you rose to your feet, raising your eyebrows curiously. “A whole plan?”

He leaned in to murmur against your ear, “you’re not the only one involved in planning you know.”

You pulled back quickly, eyes wide with a touch of panic. You were quite certain you had never told him just what your new position entailed, and there was no way he could simply guess it.

“Easy doll, your phone line.” He winked as he maneuvered your arm through his, turning to lead you out the front door.

Slowly exhaling, it clicked into place. Of course. Just as you were able to find Vi’s desk number in a directory, it seemed Bucky had been doing a little research of his own.

“Well, shhh.” You chastened him firmly, laying a finger over your lips, looking very much like an anti-slander campaign poster.

His hearty laugh in response did little to convince you that he took in the message.

“Now, how do we get to Hyde Park…” He murmured, pulling a crumpled leave guide out of his pocket.

“The underground.” You answered easily, leading him back towards the very station he had arrived at but this time down to the tube station entrance where the pair of you purchased your tickets.

His touch rarely left you – even if he was forced to release your hand, you could feel his palm pressed against your lower back as you made your way through the crowded subterranean space. You were glad to have him with you this time, not particularly a fan of this mode of transportation, but it certainly was an efficient way to get around London. Pressed close together on the train, you took the opportunity to simply gaze at him, basking in his presence after nearly a month apart, not missing the way his mouth ticked up at the corner cockily.

“Missed you too, doll.” He winked and ducked a kiss to your ear before guiding you off the train at your stop – once he had confirmed with you it was indeed your stop.

Blinking your way back into the light of day, you pointed at a directional sign guiding the way to Hyde Park.

“Perfect, now apparently there are…sandwiches!” He crowed and tugged you over to a sandwich truck that seemed quite popular based on the line of waiting patrons.

Your face was starting to hurt, driving home how infrequently you had found the opportunity to smile in his absence, making you squeeze his hand fondly. Bucky looked back to you quickly as he joined the queue.

“You really did plan everything.” You gulped quickly and he beamed proudly.

“Anything for my girl. What kind would you like?” He gestured at the menu written on the side of the truck.

By the time you reached the front of the line, Bucky was able to easily place your order, including two bottles of lemonade, insisting on paying. Opening your utility bag, you carefully packed the lunch away, earning a rather damp and enthusiastic kiss on your cheek as he snatched your hand to continue onto the park.

“May I ask what it is about this park in particular?” You inquired as the pair of you dashed across the road.

“You can ask…” His cheeky reply had you scoffing in return as you entered the canopy of trees, following a path further and further away from the traffic of downtown London.

Plenty of men in uniform seemed to be out, enjoying the nice weather with women on their arms. Women who, unlike you, enjoyed the luxury of being allowed to dress as they chose during their leisure time. It had been one of many reasons that nearly twenty-five percent of women had chosen not to remain enlisted during the transition from the WAAC to the WAC, the army requirement to remain in uniform even when off-duty. In all honesty, you had not really missed your civilian clothes until just then.

Watching the sheer femininity of those women as they swirled about in their colorful fabrics only drove home how drably olive and plainly cut your uniform truly was.

“You’re a million miles away, doll.” Bucky’s voice cut through the dark clouds that had gathered in your mind and you looked to him quickly.

“Sorry Bucky, it’s beautiful here. Like another place entirely.” You offered him a smile but by the way his eyebrow lifted slightly he did not seem to be entirely buying it. “Have the leaves started changing around the base yet?” You tried changing the subject.

He shook his head, releasing your hand to slide his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. “Seems everything will happen later here than back home.”

You hummed thoughtfully, glancing ahead and gasping a little at the glimpse of a sizeable body of water that seemed to be filled with rowboats.

“That’s why were here.”

You turned back to him to see a broad grin had overtaken his face and laughed in excitement as it was terribly romantic.

“If I had known, Major Egan, I would have brought my parasol.” You grinned and he snorted, squeezing your hip fondly.

“No need to put on airs, 1st Lieutenant,” he smirked, “the ride will be enjoyable all the same.”

“Bucky!” You hissed sharply, slapping his chest as he laughed deeply, ducking your head slightly as more than a few passersby shot glances your way.

“C’mon doll.” He chuckled and led you over to the booth beside the dock, paying the fee for a thirty-minute rental before the pair of you headed down to climb into one of the waiting row boats.

Setting your heavy bag on the floor, you carefully stepped into the rather unstable watercraft, settling on the passenger’s bench – denoted as such by the ornate ironwork arms. Bucky followed, seated across from you at the oars, his knees nearly brushing against yours, legs too long for so small a boat. Unbuttoning and sliding off his jacket, he tossed it and his cap to you before rolling up his sleeves and began to row the pair of you out onto The Serpentine, you now knew the small lake to be called.

“I trust you know what you’re doing?” You asked as he appeared to easily manage the oars, seeming at ease in the small boat.

“Mostly.” He teased with a wink before laughing at your slightly aghast expression. “Grew up on the shore of Lake Michigan, doll. Boats are like planes to me, easily managed.” He soothed.

It was difficult to decide which view to settle your eyes upon, the verdant green of the still-lush trees, the throng of boats around you, or Bucky working up a remarkably attractive sheen of sweat with his forearms on display as he propelled the rowboat through the water. A feathered fan would have been a very useful tool in that moment, to hide behind or cool yourself down, or perhaps both.

Belatedly, you realized that Bucky had been speaking this whole time – about events back at Thorpe Abbotts. Giving you the update about the people you knew, the trouble Meatball had caused with a farmer down the road, but he trailed off when he realized you were staring once more in dumbfounded silence at him.

“Doll, you’re going to give me a big head if you keep looking at me like that.” He winked as he lifted the oars from the water, letting the water sluice from the blades before tucking them into the boat on either side of you.

“Y…you’re good at that.” You replied lamely and shook your head. “Hungry?” Leaning forward for your bag, which was in all honestly a lot closer to his feet in the floor of the boat, you froze as everything tilted precariously in response to your movements.

Bucky lay a gentle hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Allow me.” Bending down slowly, he scooped up your bag and opened the flap to retrieve your sandwich and lemonade. “It’s sure tight in here, how did you even make this all fit?”

He tugged a little harder on the packet containing your lunch and your eyes widened in horror as, while he was triumphant, he also managed to send the three condoms you had tucked into your bag scattering to the floor of the boat. His eyes followed the distinct, square, paper packets and you could see his throat bob as he swallowed viciously.

“Doll…” His voice came out rough as a gravel road as he slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. “…been doing some planning of your own?”

“‘A WAC is always prepared.’” You quoted in a mortified whisper, struggling against the urge to lunge forward and hide the evidence, knowing it would only send both of you over the side and into the lake.

You watched another swallow ripple down Bucky’s throat before he offered your lunch to you, carefully collecting the offending items and returning them to your bag before he retrieved his own food.

“Would you mind,” He spoke after taking a rather ruthless and oversized bite of his sandwich, words muffled between slices of bread and chicken salad before he swallowed to start over. “Would you mind if, instead of following the rest of my plan, after these thirty minutes are up, I take you back to the hotel?”

Taking a thick swallow of your own, you shook your head slowly as you felt your cheeks heat up at the implications of that invitation. “I would not mind, no.” You clarified breathlessly and he nodded sharply, gesturing for your as-yet-unopened bottle of lemonade.

Handing it back to him, you watched silently as he lined the edge of the cap with the metal plate holding the oarlock in place, popping it off the bottle with one sharp blow of the heel of his palm.

“Thank you.” You murmured quietly as he passed you the opened drink, taking a deep sip as he repeated the process with his own, draining nearly half the bottle in one go.

Tilting your head back to take in the feel of the sun on your face, you slid your cap from your hair, adding it to the pile of his neatly folded items on the bench beside you, continuing to enjoy your picnic on the lake.

“You heard about Dye hitting twenty-five?” He broke the silence, sounding much more like himself again and you nodded quickly.

“Big news, everywhere in the 8th. Lucky crew all heading home – how did Lil take it?” You tilted your head curiously, raising your bottle to your lips, his eyes following the motion closely.

“Hm? Oh, she’ll be alright…they’re both good at letters.” He nodded, leaning back a little.

You knocked your knee against his affectionately. “Don’t sell yourself short you sweet man, I thoroughly enjoyed yours.”

His eyes flicked to yours quickly as a small smile curled his lips. “Yeah?”

You nodded firmly. “Yeah. Promise to give you more to reply to soon, phone was just necessary to make this happen.”

His hand landed on your thigh gently and he squeezed the flesh through your skirt. “Worth it. Just how long are your days though, doll?”

Your fingers played along the empty glass bottle, and you shrugged. “As long as they need to be.” You replied evasively.

“Mm, I’m going to get a better answer out of you than that.” He threatened playfully as he leaned forward to grasp the oar handles, swinging the blades back into the water and taking the pair of you on a loop around the corner of the lake before returning you to the dock.

Bucky climbed out first, taking his cap and jacket before helping you out easily, kissing you firmly as soon as you were on solid ground. “Let’s take a cab…” He breathed impatiently and you laughed, shaking your head.

“The cost would be astronomical, come on.” You affixed your cap on your head as he rolled down his sleeves and slid his jacket back on before the pair of you made your way back to the Underground.

Bucky’s body was practically pressed against yours the entire trip back to Liverpool Street station, seemingly unable to tolerate any form of separation. As you neared the hotel though, you looked to him slowly. “We should go in as colleagues…I booked us that way.”

He looked at you utterly confused, and you swallowed.

“We’re unwed, there was no way I could book us here together, and they will be none to please if they realize I’ve tricked them. I’ll get my key, you get yours, I’ll come to your room…”

He nodded slowly, arm reluctantly unwinding from around your waist before holding the door open for you to step inside.

“Thank you, Major.” You nodded, sliding your cap from your head as you stepped inside, heading to the counter to fetch your room key as he did the same, the pair of you walking up the stairs to the fifth floor together before parting ways so you could fetch your small overnight bag.

It was rather a waste of money, to book a room knowing you would most likely never sleep in it, but such things were necessary for women like you. Women who chose to go to bed with a man they were not married to in the long light of the afternoon. Taking a steadying breath, you left the perfectly made bed behind, walking down the hall to Bucky’s room and knocking on the door softly.

It promptly swung open to reveal a smiling Bucky, his jacket and cap long gone, along with his necktie, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter his much larger room with a small brown paper wrapped packet clasped in his hand. Once the door was closed behind you, you let out the laugh you had been holding.

“I did book this under Major John Egan, I suppose they felt the need to give you a nicer room than a Lieutenant.”

He smirked and kissed your cheek, taking your cap and bag from your hand, then pressing the package into it. “Before I forget, again.”

“Bucky you didn’t have to get me anything, you came to see me…”

“Open it.” His eyes danced with anticipation, and you began to pull at the piece of twine holding the package closed, unfolding the utilitarian paper to reveal a brand-new pair of stockings.

You let out an audible gasp as your jaw fairly fell to the floor.

“To replace the pair that got wrecked when you fell.” He smiled, obviously pleased by your reaction.

“How on earth did you…?!” You trailed off, staring up at him in wonderment.

“A man never reveals his secrets, doll.” He grinned and let out a grunt as you launched yourself into his arms, kissing him fiercely at the thoughtfulness of his gift and in recognition of the sheer determination it must have taken to achieve such a feat in rationed England.

His fingers gently plied the items from your grasp, setting them on the bedside table, freeing your hands to latch onto his arms as he cupped your face gently.

“You sure about this, my beautiful girl?” He whispered and your breath hitched in your throat at the tender look on his face just inches from yours.

“Yes.” You nodded quickly, sliding your fingers into his hair to pull his lips back to yours greedily.

A pleased noise rolled from his throat and across your tongue as he coaxed your mouth open, his fingers shifting to make steady work at the buttons on your jacket before he unwound your hands from his dark curls to slide the garment off, tossing it in the general direction of the chair that held his. You could not help the giggle that bubbled up from your chest at that as you moved to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one.

The tug of his teeth on your lower lip quickly transformed your laughter to shuddering breath as you held tightly to the open sides of his shirt, feeling him tug your tie free from your collar before it joined the pile of clothes somewhere on the plush blue carpet of the hotel room floor. Your shirt and skirt were quick to join it, leaving you in your brassiere and slip, garter belt and underwear still hidden from view.

“You have a remarkable number of layers on, doll.” He huffed as his mouth descended along your throat to suck at the crook of your shoulder, installing a dramatic curve in your spine as you arched against him wantonly with a half-swallowed cry of pleasure.

“Y…you have almost as many…” You protested, tugging the ends of his shirt from his trousers before pushing it from his shoulders only to be met with his undershirt.

The sheer broadness of him had never quite been so very apparent and had you licking your lips as you struggled with the last barrier between you and his torso, your ID tags rasping metallically against his.

“Not nearly as complicated though.” He muttered as his fingers worked at the hook and eye closure of your bra until you felt the band go slack and he leaned back to slide the straps down your arms, making you shiver as your breasts were revealed to his hungry gaze.

Bucky’s heavy exhale fluttered against your collarbone, grown cool by the time it traversed the distance between you, and you shuddered slightly, looking to the side shyly. He leaned in to brush his nose against yours tenderly, pecking your lips.

“Whatcha hiding for, gorgeous?” His tone was gentle and had your eyes slowly sliding to meet his, an action he rewarded with a deep kiss.

He continued to distract you with repeated meetings your lips, each time with growing intensity as his palms slid upwards along your sides to cup your breasts. The meeting of flesh had you inhaling sharply through your nose, hands seeking anchor as your fingers twisted into his beltloops where his trousers hung open around his hips – yet again delaying you in your purpose of undressing him. As his thumbs honed in on your sensitive peaks, Bucky elicited all manner of noises from your throat only to eagerly devour them.

“D’ya have any idea how soft you are doll?” He sighed against your lips as he kneaded your tender flesh. “’Cept right here.” He smirked as he tugged at your nipples and you whined his name, pressing impossibly close against him, realizing he was anything but soft.

Your shimmies and writhes against him seemed to serve as a reminder of the greater purpose at hand and Bucky’s fingers ceased their torment, sliding down to your hips to divest you of your slip before beginning to work at your stockings. Toeing off your shoes, you pushed his trousers from his hips, letting gravity do the rest.

“So many hooks and straps and loops…” He muttered as his mouth dipped to the hollow of your throat, though his fingers seemed more than capable of stripping you down to only your underwear.

Seizing your hips, Bucky guided you back onto the bed, and you could not help the sigh at that flew from your mouth at the feel of a real mattress with springs and a duvet, drawing a broad grin across his face as he crawled over you, coaxing you to lay back.

“Precious women like you should always have luxurious beds like these. None of those stinking Army cots…” His hands slid beneath your spine to half guide, half drag you up to rest on the obnoxious mountain of pillows.

Staring up at him in awe, at a complete loss for words, you settled on pressing up onto your elbows to kiss him firmly, hoping to convey your appreciation physically rather than trying to summon speech. As his lips parted from yours to begin sliding down your body, you let out a slight huff of annoyance, earning a chuckle against your collarbone which rumbled through his chest and into your body. He lifted his head slightly as his fingers wove through the ball chain of your ID tags as he seemed to notice them for the first time.

“I always wondered if you ladies had these.”

You bit your lip to smother your grin as he never hesitated to say what was on his mind, a constant stream of commentary on the world around him, and rather than annoying, you found it utterly adorable.

“Are you laughin’ at me, doll?” He smirked and gave a gentle tug, pulling a genuine laugh from you, to which he responded with a brilliant grin. “Alright then, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He bowed his head to drag the flat of his tongue across your nipple, your resulting whimper bouncing off the walls as he resumed his teasing of your opposite breast.

“B…Bucky…” Your eyes shot wide as his plush lips sealed around that tender peak, applying a positively euphoric suction that had you burying your fingers in his hair and pressing your body closer to his mouth in silent demand.

With careful precision, his knee slid its way between your thighs, applying coaxing pressure to each in turn until you provided enough room for him to settle between them. The feeling of his hard length slotting against your core with only the thin barrier of your underwear separating your intimate flesh had your jaw dropping open in a silent ‘oh’ – a revelation unto itself despite all the experiences you had enjoyed with him thus far. Undulating your hips against his experimentally, you shuddered at the ragged, abbreviated groan he pressed against your sternum, caught in the midst of traversing your chest. Thoroughly encouraged, you repeated the action, savagely gnawing on your lip as he bit off a curse before his mouth reached its destination and laved at your neglected nipple.

Nestling tighter against you, Bucky began to roll his hips against you in earnest, obliterating your ability to think and scheme against him at the blinding pleasure his combined actions induced. You could feel the smug angle of his lips against your abdomen as his mouth was trailing lower on your body, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear to peel it from your body. Shifting back to free the interfering item from your legs, he gazed down at you with almost black eyes, his pupils having nearly devoured his irises in his arousal, before stretching forward onto his stomach.

Blinking rapidly, you raised up on your elbows to watch him hoist one of your legs over a strong shoulder and then the other, shuffling embarrassingly close to the apex of your thighs.

“Bucky?” You squeaked hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow up at you, his pink tongue darting out the wet his lips, nearly matching the flush that had painted its way across his cheeks and down his neck. “Yes, doll?”

“What…” You swallowed thickly as your throat clenched erratically.

“Making good on a promise.” He replied seriously before stretching forward to deliver a thorough kiss to your folds that fairly sucked the air from your lungs, an odd whistling sound echoing through you as you savagely burrowed your fingers into the bedding.

When his tongue narrowed in on that sensitive bundle of nerves, it was your turn to bite off a curse, slumping back onto the pillows as he hummed against you in what was surely mock sympathy as he most certainly did not let up, his efforts only doubling. As your hips began to jerk and writhe, he slung a heavy forearm across your pelvis to pin you in place, only shifting closer and tracing his forefinger around your entrance teasingly. It was all you could do not to kick and wail as you felt yourself becoming embarrassingly slick, the noises he was making growing ever so obscene and filling the hotel room.

“Fuck!” You whined against your palm as his finger finally sunk into your wet heat, its passage remarkably eased by your arousal, hips bucking hard enough to jar his arm slightly.

“Damn you’re delicious, doll.” He growled against you, lips smacking loudly as he began to suck at your pearl, finger working you open enough to add a second before beginning a demanding rhythm.

“Oh…oh...god…” You cried out in agony, too far gone to remember your desire to be quiet, feeling the tension of pending release growing ever closer under his amorous onslaught.

“I know, I know…” He soothed, only quickening his pace, hooking his fingers towards the front of your body, sending your back into a dramatic curve from the mattress, a tortured moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, I have to see that again.” He rasped and sought that precise spot with a ruthless single-minded precision until he was rewarded with not only the same reaction, but your strangled cry as your orgasm slammed into you with breath-taking force.

As you returned to earth from your visit to the celestial plane, the first sensation you became aware of was tender, damp kisses being pressed to your inner thigh as Bucky murmured soft words of encouragement to you.

“There’s my gorgeous girl, holy hell that was incredible, did you enjoy that half as much as I did?”

You managed a wordless noise in the affirmative that summoned him to your side, his lips feathering kisses up your jaw to your ear, the tickle of his moustache making you laugh breathlessly.

“Good?” He murmured and you nodded quickly, turning to look at his still-expectant face.

“Yes.” You cobbled together a verbal response, and he blessed you with a warm smile which you leaned in to press your lips against in gratitude.

“Good.” He swiped his tongue along your lips before suddenly slipping from the bed, making you raise your head in confusion.

Stalking over to find your utility bag amongst the sea of discard items and clothing, he proudly retrieved the three condoms that had announced your hopes and intentions for you by appearing in the rowboat, unceremoniously shucking off his boxers as he made his way back to you. You had held his length before, stroked it to completion, but that paled in comparison to seeing the full expanse of him in the light of day.

“My gorgeous doll, you might not say a lot, but you sure don’t mind looking at what you like.” He smirked unabashedly as he set two of the paper packets on the night table beside you, unwrapping the third to unroll the protective latex onto his cock.

Rather than letting his teasing words dissuade you, though they did cause your teeth to sink into your lower lip, you chose to allow your eyes to linger on his actions, rather fascinated by the whole process. By the male anatomy as well. Task managed, he was climbing over you once more, blocking the golden light of afternoon that was filtering in through the windows with his body, warmth radiating from his skin. He settled easily between your legs once more, still parted from his early activities as you really had not summoned the wherewithal to move yet, and stroked his length through the lingering slick gathered along your folds.

A broken sigh fell from his lips before they clashed with yours, not quite aligned, but the sentiment was still there, body shuddering as you slid your arms around him to cling to his shoulders. It was difficult to tell just whom Bucky was teasing as he continued to rut against you, the tip of his cock brushing against your overly-sensitive bundle of nerves, both of you huffing through your nostrils until at last he began to sink into you.

Tearing your lips from his, you sucked in gasping breaths at the feel of the foreign intrusion, appreciating the fact that his pace seemed to slow in response to that. Appreciating the pause he afforded you when his pelvis slotted snuggly against yours once he was seated fully inside you. Cracking open your clenched eyes, you gulped tightly as they were immediately met by Bucky’s, crowned by a furrowed brow, but flicking over your features studiously as if awaiting your instruction.

“I’m ok.” You breathed and he nodded, immediately seizing your lips in a kiss once more as he rocked forward, earning a ragged moan as your fingertips dug into the skin of his back.

His familiarity with this sort of activity had always been apparent, but was exceptionally obvious now as he slowly began the rhythmic push and pull to drive you both towards climax. The sheer intimacy of it was too much and yet it was not nearly enough, your body craving ever more, ever faster, with increasing desperation. The rare moments that Bucky’s lips were not on yours, they were filling the room with choked-off moans or statements of the filthiest order.

“God doll, you feel so fucking good around me.”

“So tight. I can feel how wet you are too, even with this rubber on.”

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t ya? You’re gripping on me like a…fuck I can’t think when you do that…”

His ability to even speak while experiencing such mind-numbing pleasure, rambling though it was, was fairly awe-inspiring. Your responses were limited to moans and whimpers and cries of his name as his supposition was correct – your orgasm was indeed imminent. All it took was the solicitous stroking of his forefinger against the apex of your pleasure to send you flying over the cliff into paradise, clinging to his body as you cried out in ecstasy.

A string of rasped curses mixed in with several sighs of your name heralded his release as Bucky finished not long after, rocking against you sloppily before sinking down onto your chest with a comforting heaviness. Stroking his back tenderly as he nestled into your neck, you grinned stupidly at the ceiling as you felt quite pleased with your choices.

The pair of you made good use of the rest of the condoms you had brought, with a short break for a meal Bucky procured while you took a bath. He returned with a bottle of brandy as well, finding you still in the bathtub. A lot of water ended up on the floor, a pile of water-logged towels your testament to the attempted clean-up. Eating in bed, you shared stories of your childhoods – Bucky’s about growing up on the shores of Lake Michigan, yours of the small two-storey house with its screen door and front porch from which you had watched your brother play with the neighbourhood boys.

You fell asleep in one another’s arms after the final condom was disposed of, the sun long set, but awoke sometime in the night to the unsettling sound of an air raid siren. Not as common in 1943, yet being as close as you were to Canary Wharves, the Luftwaffe still made the occasional bomb run. Startled to find the bed empty, you sat up sharply to see Bucky sitting in front of the window, completely naked, intermittently illuminated by the flashes of distant explosions and anti-aircraft fire.

“Sorry doll, didn’t mean to wake ya.” He muttered and you shook your head, sliding to the end of the bed.

“You ok?” You tilted your head, blinking into a particularly bright flash.

“Hmmm…” He replied noncommittally, turning back to the scene before him with a frown. “I’ve dropped a lot of those. Done a lot of killing.”

Swallowing tightly, you slid to your feet despite the way your heart was pounding in your throat, padding across the carpet towards him.

“Done your job, Bucky. Done what was asked of you.” You assured him, coming to stand behind him, setting your hands on his shoulders.

“If there’s any balance to all this, my ticket was punched a long time ago.” He muttered sullenly and it was your turn to frown.

Bending down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, you stepped in front of him to block his view, perhaps, hopefully, to block his darker thoughts as you shifted to sit on his thighs.

“Whatcha doin’ doll?” He quirked an eyebrow, mouth falling open in a silent moan as your fingers slid between your bodies to gently stroke his length.

“Lightening up.” You replied, invoking the words of your dead brother’s inscription.

It was impossible to think of a more important piece of advice or a more importance source in that moment. A young man who would never get the chance to spend one more time in his lover’s arms, who knew you better than anyone in the entire world. And you were most certainly going to follow it. You had to be up in less than three hours, to catch the first train to High Wycombe, and you would not pass up this moment with Bucky. The future was unknowable, your brother’s death had certainly taught you that.

Bucky’s fingers curled into your hips as his mouth descended onto yours greedily, clearly in agreement with your plan, despite the lack of remaining condoms. Shuffling closer, you guided his now fully hard cock into your body, your soft noises of pleasure colliding with his in the space between your parted lips. Working together, with plenty of guidance from his firm grip, you began to rocking your hips, using his shoulders for leverage. His head fell back to stare up at you in awe, jaw slack, adam’s apple bobbing viciously.

“Christ, I love you…” His face betrayed such vulnerability, lips trembling slightly, that you quickly lifted your hands to cradle his cheeks, even as your lashes grew suddenly damp.

“I love you too, John. So much.” You replied thickly, rather resenting the dramatic wobble in your voice.

The tiniest of smiles pulled at his lips before his face grew serious once more and he lunged forward to kiss you hungrily, hands anchoring your shoulders so he might thrust up into your body with a sudden need. It was all you could do to hang on, though pleasure itself still managed to sweep you away, leaving you only with the vague recognition of him half pulling out mid-release.

It was terribly difficult to leave him in that comfortable, if messy, bed a few hours later. He did not make it easy either, impossible to untangle from your body like an unwieldy piece of seaweed. Yet somehow you managed to make your trains and arrive at your desk at the appointed hour. Focusing on the task at hand with the pleasurable ache between your legs was altogether another challenge, forcing you to sit on first one hip and then the other.

You had just returned after the lunch break when your phone rang, your greeting barely out of your mouth before Bucky’s question came down the line.

“Did you know you know where they played yesterday’s match?” He asked flatly and it took you several seconds to comprehend that he was speaking in code and just what he was getting at.

You swallowed painfully. “Yes, I did sir.”

Of course you did, you were in the room on Thursday night when they had chosen Bremen as the target for yesterday’s mission.

“A lot of our best players struck out, you know. Buck included.”

He sounded utterly unlike himself, cold and distant, not the man you had left just hours ago in that hotel room in London. All the same, your heart broke for him, and for yourself too. You liked Major Cleven – this war was nothing but cruel.

“I’m so sorry B-Major Egan.” You corrected yourself quickly, eyeing Myrtle across the room.

“Well I hope you all pick a better field for tomorrow’s match because I’m pitching.”

You opened your mouth to reply as your heart dropped through the floor, but the sound of the handset slamming into the cradle resounded over the line before it went dead, giving you no opportunity to speak. To wish him luck or, heaven forfend, goodbye. You hung up your phone with a slightly shaking hand as a deep sense of dread threaded its way through your stomach.

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

Read Part Five - "I Trusted You!"

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp, @mads-weasley, @xxanaduwrites, @bcon24, @fxxiva, @slowsweetlove, @hockeyboysarehot, @darylas

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john egan imagine #john egan fic #john egan #john bucky egan #mota fic #masters of the air fanfic

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milf-harrington · 8 months

Text

i just haven't met you (yet)

alright here's your bloody part two, jesus christ ♡

part one

----

The door unlocked with a series of clunking pops before Steve even registered the sound of boots on the porch.

The cabin was too deep in the woods to avoid regular visitors and the area was boobytrapped enough to discourage anyone else, but still, Hopper frowned disapprovingly at the back of El's head when the door swung open before he reached it.

"You're meant to wait until I knock."

She twisted around to see him over her shoulder, blood smudged under her nostril. "Why?"

The police chief sighed, closing the door behind him and re-engaging each lock by hand. A plastic bag dangled from his fingers.

"Because I could'a been anyone- someone dangerous."

"But you are not."

"But I could have been."

It was a conversation they had often, and this time Steve welcomed it, sinking further into the couch and hoping to avoid any possibility of Hop bringing up the walkie incident.

El had spotted the bag, climbing to her feet in a graceless un-piling of arms and legs.

Thanks to the combined efforts of both their appetites, the pizza cooling on the stove was the third of the night, but Steve knew she'd still be gorging herself on eggo's as soon as she got her hands on them. That girls stomach was an endless abyss, apparently.

Hopper didn't even get a chance to put the bag down before El was rummaging through it, and Steve huffed fondly.

Mistake.

Hopper's eyes flicked up to meet his, mustache twitching, and Steve groaned, leaning his head back against the couch and hiding his face in his hands.

"Can we just forget it happened?" He pleaded.

El, bright yellow boxes piled in one arm, looked between them. "Forget? Why are we forgetting?"

Before Steve could come up with a clever diversion, Hopper was already ruffling her hair and heading for the kitchen. "Your brother embarrassed himself on the radio earlier."

El blinked and tilted her head. "What did you do?"

Steve whined, mortification still simmering in his belly. "I asked if the guy Hop arrested was cute, and he heard it."

"Why is that embarrassing?"

"I wasn't arresting him."

Steve straightened up, ignoring El's question in favour of Hopper's reveal.

"You weren't?"

So, he hadn't called a criminal cute?

Hopper didn't look at him, preoccupied with lifting a slice of pizza free from the tray. "You know how those rich types are-"

Steve grimaced in agreement.

"- they think anyone who's not up to their standards is up to no good."

Something settled in Steve's stomach and he picked at the pizza crust under his nails.

He hadn't called a criminal cute.

"So why'd you take him to the station?"

Hopper grunted, mouth and plate full as he dropped it on the table. El remained in the kitchen, watching the toaster with her chin resting on the back of her hands.

"Protocol mainly. I got his statement about what he was doing in that area, then let him call his uncle to pick him up."

The toaster popped and the tv flickered when El startled. Steve cracked a smile.

"Look," Hopper sighed at the ceiling. "Munson is a pain in the ass, and I've hauled him in for possession more often than I'd like, but he's a good kid."

He shot Steve another grin as El settled beside him with her plate of waffles, and Steve got a bad feeling.

"Don't worry, though. I told him you're cute too."

El caught the pillow before it could knock over the salt shaker, freezing it in mid-air before letting it drop silently to the hardwood.

#i actually wrote this ages ago but forgot to post it sdkfhsdkjf #anyway here's your part 2 #i know a bunch of people asked to be tagged but the list is somewhere in my room and i cbf getting up to find it #my writing #steve harrington #jim hopper #eleven 'jane' hopper #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steddie #technically

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tremendum · 1 year

Text

fever

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.5k summary: but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with. warnings: SMUT. dubcon (sex pollen), age gap (not specified), use of the word ‘girl’, friends(ish) to lovers, canon-typical mentions of violence, needles/getting pricked by a plant, descriptions of canon-typical injuries, unprotected PiV sex, kinda rough, creampie, light cumplay, oral (f and m recieving), a fair amount of begging, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, voyeur Joel if you squint just for a sec, facefucking, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, some spanking, choking, reader gets slapped on the cheek like once, dom!joel miller, spit kink, fingering, dirty talk/slight degradation if you squint, light praise, this is just basically porn with no plot, they’ve got feelings for each other but they’re in denial, ellie is in this in the beginning but doesn’t hear them thank GOD, notes: this is my first work for Joel and though I never finished the first game, the release of the TV series inspired me bc i am a SLU T for pedro lmao. this is terribly unedited because I just forgot i took edibles after i smoked and cranked this out in an hour and a half so sorry if it’s choppy or a bit ooc for joel. ALSO IF IM MISSING WARNINGS PLS MESSAGE ME

★

"whose brilliant idea was this?"

you say it from behind Joel, the echo of your boots splashing through the tunnel as you look around you, your eyes sneaking to observe the width of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt over the muscles.

Joel can't stop the twist of his lips as he grumbles back at you, "yours." he mutters, rolling his eyes.

his flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you two, scaling over the walls that grow slimy with repeated dew and rainwater, algae sprawling over the pipes and reaching its fingers down towards your shoes. he doesn't like being down here, it's too quiet, damp, dark. perfect for cordyceps to grow.

you let out a soft, amused hum at his words that coaxes a bubble of irritation through Joel - you'd always been stubborn, from the day he'd first laid eyes on you; a young thing at the time, baring teeth you thought were sharp but really just looked like a little doe snapping its jaw at him.

it's been long enough with you around now that Joel knows you better than he's willing to admit, and maybe also knows himself than he would ever say out loud - because you're still that stubborn fireball of a woman and he's still the tired old man who you find amusing to tease. and he likes it, deep deep down.

"yeah, maybe just letting it go was the better option." you muse from behind him, voice still somehow dripping like honey though the sloshing of the sewer provided nothing but unpleasantries for the group of you. he turns to spare a glare at you; you were already smirking at him. setting him up, then lying in wait.

a damn minx.

he sighs, looking away: sure, he wants you, of course he does - you were spry, beautiful, intelligent, and resourceful. but you were stubborn, and butted heads with him more than rams did in mating season. still, there'd been too many lingering glances, suggestive phrases, and gentle caresses for it to be a coincidence. he could tell that when you watched him split wood or help teach you to shoot a gun that you were probably soaked through your panties, and that made him hard as a rock when he allowed himself to think about it once in a blue moon.

but that doesn't matter, because in a world that wasn't like this one - without the danger, pain, the necessities to survive - a girl like you would never bat a fucking eye at a man like him.

and he's got more important things to think about than how tight you'd feel around his cock, how well you'd take his orders with his hand around your throat.

but your words not only fall to his ears - from where Ellie hangs upside down from the storm drain, she snorts, "you spent that whole time back there arguing with him just to decide he was right?" she boasts. at this, you grab her arm, pretending to pull her down from above your head and into the storm drain with you and Joel. a splashing noise and a squeal echoes through the tunnel as your boots slosh; Joel turns back with irritation, about to snap at the two to keep quiet.

but you're grinning, eyes reaching his from where you stand, covered in storm drain water. Ellie's flipped upside-down, hanging from the ceiling with a grin of amusement, her arm slack in your grip.

your shirt is wet, slick against your plush skin around your stomach and breasts, your hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead and neck. slowly, you bend down to pick the axe out of the murky water, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you shake the water from its hilt. he has to tear his eyes away from the flash of the lacy underwear that peeks from the waistline of your jeans.

Joel's breathing is almost stutters - you’re a goddamn sight right now, and if the tightening in Joel's jeans meant anything, it's that he needed to look away.

"it doesn't matter. you got your axe, now we need to get out of here." he mutters, tired of letting you convince him to do asinine decisions like try and crawl into a storm drain to fetch the axe you'd accidentally dropped. your lips pull into a tight line and he ignores the twist of fire in his stomach at your gaze, the smirk as you try to conceal your laughter. it just irritates him even more.

he watches with sharp eyes as Ellie starts to pull you up and out of the drain; he's trained with a flashlight and his rifle pointed towards the depths beyond you, into the unknown area of the drain. your head is almost out of his sight when it happens: you twitch suddenly and let out a yelp, "fuck!" you hiss. Joel's rushing towards you, calling your name.

you groan, pulling yourself up with the aid of Ellie as you mutter, "'m fine Joel, something stung me."

stung you? he looks around, flashlight searching the area for any animal or insect or other threat - nothing. but when you're clear of the drain, obscured by the dilapidated road above his head, Joel hears Ellie let out an interested but disgusted noise. his gun goes first, then the flashlight. he pulls himself up and as he nearly breaches the light of the Earth, a sharp sting attaches to his thigh, coaxing a grunt of shock from his lips as he pulls himself fully out.

you're laying, soaked on the hot pavement, Ellie staring at you with wide eyes as you inspect your calf. there's a barb on it with spikes that look almost like a cactus of sorts, bright purple and speckled with yellow. Joel doesn't have to look down to see his own thigh impaled with the spokes of the same plant. he tilts his head back, hand scrubbing his face with a deep sigh. damn it.

"what is that?" Ellie asks, eyes wide as Joel quickly pulls out the plant from his flesh with the flannel he'd tied around his pack. "don't!" he chastises as your bare hands move towards the spoked on your calf, and your eyes soon shoot up to him. "did y'touch a plant down there? or anything?" he asks, trying to ensure this wasn't anything toxic or lethal, or god forbid, a mutation of the cordyceps.

but if it had been, there'd have been signs of it. pulsing, infecteds even - but this was a plant Joel has never seen before.

"obviously" you grunt, shooting him a glare, "I wouldn't fucking touch something growing if I didn't know it was safe." you snark. he knows you hate it when he treats you like a child - you've said as much to him before, and loudly - but he can't help the protectiveness he feels for you. your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, "but it shot out barbs towards me. I wasn't even close to it, you saw me." you defend.

Joel's throat clenches, his chest swimming with a warm feeling as the tingling sensation on his thigh lingers far after he'd pulled the barb from his jeans. he needed to get that thing out of you, too. you watch him as he pulls it out of your leg swiftly, Ellie sitting back on her haunches as she watches.

"we should clean these out." Joel decides, standing up and grabbing his gun and discarded flashlight, sending a glare down to the axe that sits glinting in the sun. just what he needs, another thorn in his side. literally.

the walk back to the house was much less exciting for you as it had been before the little romp with Joel in the sewer. the sun is hot beating down on your backs, and your dampness just exacerbates the mustiness of the storm drain's water soaking into your skin.

your calf is starting to vibrate, almost - although your heart twists with worry, you eye Joel's back and he seems fairly normal. so, you keep going, ignoring the heat that starts to consume you. your head aches by the time you round your last corner to get back.

Ellie's in her own world, kicking a rock as the house nears your sights: you'd landed here early this morning, some people who knew Joel before had lived here: they were gone now.

but it had beds, water that could be heated, and a collection of weapons and supplies stocked higher than your head.

so as you settle your things into the living room, you smile, digging into your pack to fish out the scraps of soap you'd saved, enough for several washes each of you were liberal with it. "so, who gets it first?" you say with a grin, unable to contain the excitement in your voice at the prospect of getting clean. Ellie jumps up, grinning with glee.

"dibs on going last!" she whistles, pulling a dry stare from both Joel and you. she shrugs, "what, don't want to be yelled at for takin' my time." she grumbles, flopping down on the couch, sofa releasing a plume of dust.

you lift a brow, "there's a second tub down here, isn't there?" you ask. Joel nods, eyes flickering to Ellie, "then you can take the tub down here. but only use a bit of hot water." he chides.

she rolls her eyes as he points a stern finger her way, swiping a piece of the soap you'd held out to her as she hauls her bag behind her, "relax, old man." she mutters, shaking her head as she disappears, "I'll let it run cold before I get out."

your eyes fall on to Joel, who sighs, nodding to the upstairs bathroom. "you go." he says dismissively. you chew on your lip, trying to figure a way out of taking the first bath: you needed to inspect this sting first. "no, i can wait. 's fine." you shrug, the feverish heat on your body not helping yourself to focus.

his hands run to the back of his neck, massaging a spot; your eyes are glued to the muscles that ripple from the movement, the long fingers thick and rough from a lifetime of hard work. you shudder, arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs easily. you swallow, embarrassed - why were you having such an odd reaction to this plant? it was making you feel fuzzy, feverish; the only thing you can focus on is Joel.

he shakes his head, "nonsense. ladies first." he insists, not meeting your eyes. you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, his abnormal attempt at chivalry - you laugh a bit. he glares at you, but there's no heat.

"since when have you been one for chivalry, Joel?" you ask, shaking your head with a smirk. it's sweet, because despite the horror of reality, there were still times when that charming Southern Man that Joel probably once was peeks through the cold, hard exterior.

rare but not unheard of were the times he'd hold a door open, or say ma'am - but it seems that all that remains of his past is that damn smooth accent and the broken watch he keeps on his wrist at all times.

he rolls his eyes but says nothing. his face looks red, and you almost bring up the pulsing at the site of that plant's needle; instead, you bite your tongue. you need a moment to analyze it, alone - and to get your thoughts straight, to - to not think about him.

"you can take first, Joel. I prefer my baths lukewarm, anyways." you joke, a fleeting touch on his arm.

your hand burns when you pull away and his eyes catch yours as if he felt it too. he must decide to not protest anymore as he nearly stumbles his way upstairs, disappearing into the master bathroom, his hands shaky as they take your soap from your grasp on the way.

Joel knew something was wrong immediately. the more he'd stood there, debating with you about who gets to fucking clean themselves first, the more he saw you, in a tub, fingers caressing yourself; the more real it felt, to see you touch your hardened buds, play with your tits, to hear you moan his name gently.

but his body was hot. he felt a fever like nothing he'd ever felt before, his mind going fuzzy as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing his whole body from head to toe vigorously, as though whatever was happening would fade away if he'd just get clean.

the bath couldn't have been longer than seven minutes.

by the end of it, he was grunting into his shoulder to muffle the noise, his fist squeeing his cock tight as he fucks himself into it, the hot spurs of wanton need curling around his body, choking him. that god damned soap. it smelled like you.

he'd thrown it across the room, its pieces splintered across the ground as Joel bites back a groan of your name, the images of you, soft hands pumping him, slick mouth opening to take him inside- he cums over his chest in hot spurts, the guilt red and hot across his cheeks as the feeling snaps from his chest.

but the fever is still there when he blinks away the pleasured cloud of his orgasm.

and it's still there, burning hot like a snake of revenge in his body when he slams the door open, body still damp and quick to react to the fresh air of the upstairs bedroom.

he doesn't go back downstairs, not like this. not when the girl is down there, probably still in her own bath; he's still not sure what he's come down with, or if it could spread.

now, it’s your turn in the bathroom in the master bedroom - he'd beelined it for the office upstairs before calling for you and telling you it was your turn; he knew that something in him would snap if he were to see you while he was in this state.

but he should've gone back downstairs, because the moment he hears it, it's too late for him.

you're moaning.

it's almost clear as day; muffled through doors as you'd shut yourself from the rest of the house in the master bedroom, and Joel can't fucking unhear it.

he became painfully hard again mere minutes after his first orgasm and has been restraining himself for what can only have been the ten minutes you'd been bathing, but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine.

his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.

"fuck." he groans, surprised as it comes out much more breathy than intended, his whole body shuddering as his brain gets even more swarmed with thoughts - you, spread for him, or on your knees, or laying on the table, his cock shoved down your throat-

he hits the wall, hard. his fist stings but it's nothing in comparison to the burning need he feels swirling in his gut and his legs carry him until he's knocking on the door to the master bedroom frantically.

he calls your name, and a weak gasp is the only response. he tries again, and then your muffled voice calls, "fuck, Joel, that plant-" you cut yourself off with what Joel can only imagine is a moan of pain and pleasure. his cock twitches and he thinks he may pass out. staggering over to the bannister, Joel calls out for Ellie. she stomps over to peak her head up towards him expectantly.

he's shaking, sweat already sheening over his whole body. he's sure he looks like hell as he grips the landing under white knuckles, "Ellie, we're sick." he groans, "stay downstairs."

she calls back up, joking that she’s going to leave the house; but she doesn't sound sincere. he barely registers her laughter before she shuts the door, closing herself off to explore the downstairs house without Joel or you to protect her. he's momentarily glad she's not suspicious, instead is relieved to have her own time to herself.

but his cock is so hard he thinks he may pass out again, and he can hear you gasping out his name from behind the door to the bedroom and bathroom.

the door to the bedroom shuts and echoes through the empty upstairs as he tears through, chest heaving. you're still in the bathroom, gasping as your moans echo through the chamber.

he calls your name as he slumps against the door frame to the bathroom, the desire coursing through his body as he shakes with the feverous affects from the plant's venom.

he can't think straight, "I can't come in." he says, shaking his head as his forehead rests against the cool wood. you wail from inside, "Joel, please, I need- I need you, please I need help." you whimper. he can practically see you, the pleading look on your face pathetic as your brows tangle together, eyes shut in frustration. he knows you're touching yourself, and it makes his cock twitch.

"I can't." he says sternly, knowing that if he is to come through that door, there may be no stopping himself. he can't let that happen, not like this. "I'll- I'll be good, just- I can't, nothing's working." you whimper.

"not like this, darlin'." he's grunting through his teeth, but he feels so much desire that it's painful, like he'll die. anger courses through his chest as you let out a drawn out moan, low and full of need even through the wall that separates you.

"fuck you." you groan, "I hate you, Joel, never let me fuckin' have anything," your voice is strangled, a shuddering moan leaving your lips that sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire being. his hand finds his aching cock, slowly trying to relieve the painful desire that shoots through him with need.

he glares through the wall, "yeah, well, fuck you too." he spits back, anger coursing through him at your bratty exclaim of irritation for him - the one who kept you safe, who let you do what you wanted - who followed you into goddamn sewer drains to find the shit that you’d lost.

"walking around, flaunting that fuckin' ass at me." his words fall from his lips before he can stop himself, the desire and haze pulling it out of him as he twists his wrist around himself. "do you know what you do to me?" he nearly growls, "every time you open that mouth it's some shit. always gotta have somethin' to say to me, huh? make me wanna shut you up."

your moan is nearly a sob this time; it's raw, full of desire, and Joel could just about cum from that noise alone. his neck heats up with the knowledge that his words pushed you even further; he always knew you'd be a dirty little thing.

but he nearly falls over as the door to the bathroom rips open, catching himself with one arm on the doorframe, his cock still in his fist. his eyes find you on the ground, fully naked, on your goddamn hands and knees for him.

his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you gasp, "Joel, we need to-" you swallow as though you were salivating at the sight of him above you, cock angry and flushed, "you have to fuck me, now."

he stares down at you, his whole entire body tremoring at the sight of you; your bare chest, nipples peaked at you suck in breaths, face flushed with desire and sweat, your own legs shaking terribly. your hands are glistening with your own juices. he lets out a moan.

"please," you try to get his attention again, squirming as though you're in just as much pain as he is, "please, just use me, I don't care, I want to taste you."

he shakes his head, "we-we aren't thinking straight... can't do this." he gasps, even his own words starting to sound absurd to himself. you shake your head actual tears welling up in your eyes, "I think about this all the time, Joel-" you moan, your hand slipping between your legs, the wet sounds sending streaks of desire through his body. “it’s not just the fucking plant, Joel, I need you.” you hum. his wrist hasn't stopped moving, he realizes, chasing that sweet fucking high as you stare at his cock with a wide, hungry glance, begging him to fuck you. he wonders if he’s just dreaming again.

"you know that I want this." you gasp out, tears nearly slipping from your lashline, "don't you?"

does he? how could you dare to ask that?

he groans, nodding, "shit, baby, shut the fuck up."

"you're a fucking asshole, Joel." you whine, "it hurts." you mutter, biting your lip with a ghost of a smile. that makes him snap. it hurts, and you're fucking enjoying it?

he grabs you roughly. the minute his skin touches yours it burns deliciously; he can't believe he had the control to not touch you this whole time. his moan is tandem with yours as his fingers thread through your hair, intending on lifting you to take you to the bed; your hands grip his thighs, though, and soon your hot, wet mouth finds the angry head of his cock.

you take him about halfway before you gag slightly and he slams his hand hard on the wall just above you; your eyes are fluttered shut, a tear squeezing out as your throat opens for him. he groans at the pleasure that courses through him, reaches his fingers, the nape of his neck. you're pulling on him desperately, and it makes him smirk down at you.

"what, you wan' me to fuck that pretty little mouth?" he mutters, heart thundering in his chest as his fingers shake with desire. you pull off him, gasping slightly for breath, your finger still touching yourself as you nod, a string of spit still connecting him to your lips, "yes." you say with a nod, falling back against the wall as he crowds over you.

he's not patient, not right now. he knows he could fuck your mouth until he was shooting his seed down your throat and you'd sit through it all with that pretty hair and grin and hell, you’d probably even thank him afterwards; but he doesn't have the time for that. he needs to be deep inside you, needs to be drowning in your cunt, needs to fuck you down into the mattress so hard you scream.

and you're desperate, clearly: you're two fingers deep, fucking yourself on your fingers as another tear trails down your cheek, breathless as you shift in near pain from need. he resists the urge to coo down at you, his thumb still swiping the tear from your cheek before he grabs you again, this time pulling you up and tugging you onto the bed.

you let out a moan of his name, your face flush with arousal as you spread your thighs open for him, watching with a pained expression as he pulls off his shirt and jeans, discarding his boxers as he goes. your eyes rake over him and you whimper, still not touching him until he gives you permission.

it makes him smirk, "for such a brat it's a wonder you're so obedient like this." he mutters, pulling your legs further open as he quickly stands with his legs against the edge of the bed, running his cock against your soaked, velvety cunt.

you whimper, jolting in pleasure as his head catches your sensitive, neglected nub and he smears his precum there, enthralled in the shapes your nails carve into his biceps as you gasp.

he can't pull his eyes away from your glistening center - how many times had you cum before he'd heard you? he swallows, the flames licking his belly as he pushes his head against your tight hole.

he grunts, you were so goddamn tight; your eyes widen as you try to move your hips, try to slide yourself onto his cock, but he stops you with a rough hand around your shoulder, pinning you down. "stop." he orders, leaning so he can spit down, the slick trailing down to settle right onto where his cock nestles against your entrance. you let out a strangled gasp at his actions, throat dry from your noises.

he doesn't give you time to beg, though, as he's slowly easing himself into you; you let out a yelp at the feeling, loud enough that Joel's hand clamps over your lips roughly, his breath hitting your face, "shut your damn mouth, girl."

you feel like you're splitting open as he inches in and it's barely just his head but you have never felt such excruciating bliss as now, your breath falling from your nostrils harshly as he eases himself into you.

you wonder how much he is restraining against just fucking hard into you - but you're tight after the orgasms you'd given yourself in the bath trying to satiate the feelings you'd figured out were from that fucking plant venom.

you don't even know if he'll fit all the way into you as he inches slowly in, taking a few grunting breaths before fully sheathing himself inside your hot pussy. you clamp around him, feeling full as he bites his lip, chest heaving, slick with sweat. his hand, still clamped over your mouth, tightens against you as he slowly starts to thrust; he reaches a part so deep in you that you nearly scream.

he's hitting your spot nearly immediately as he starts to quicken his pace, hips hitting against yours deeply. you moan his name, "Joel, fuck, 's so fucking deep." you gasp it, unable to think of anything but chasing the high that's been building since the second the plant's venom entered your system.

he doesn't seem to like when you start to move your hips, chasing his when he pulls away; his hand comes to your cheek in a quick smack, grabbing your attention immediately. you can't prevent the moan at the sensation, nor the way you clench tight around his cock.

the moan he lets out is half-way between your name and fuck, as he slides into you deeper, hand wrapped around your cheeks, training your eyes on his. there's a glint of something animal in his eyes: you're sure he sees the same thing in you, the venom of that plant coursing through the two of you, nearly palpable in the air of skin slapping skin.

your cunt flutters at the eye contact, the desire bringing you closer to the edge; his hands shoot to your shins, pulling them up to his chest and then he leans forward with a deep thrust, coaxing tears of pleasure from your eyes. "that's it, take it." he grunts into your hear, hips punctuating each thrust as his tip nudges that spongy spot inside you that curls your toes.

then one hand catches yours as you fist the sheets; he pulls your arm roughly down towards where he enters you as he bites the lobe of your ear. "you're going to cum." he tells you breathlessly, directing your hand towards your clit, pressing the pads of your fingers against it. you yelp in pleasure, more tears squeezing from ecstasy as you nod against his forehead, "yes, fuck, I'm gonna-gonna cum."

"that's right." he's deeper, "cum for me." he nearly whispers it, almost desperate. it's just what you need to push you over the edge: his hips angling in a way that has hot, searing pleasure coursing through you. you nearly go blind when you cum with a gasp of his name. his hips don't even stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, the relief washing over you in waves of pleasure. you can't open your eyes, your chest heaving, arms locked on his biceps, hips quivering with the intensity of the feeling.

he keeps the roll of his hips as he slides easily through your ruined pussy, his brows pinched in pleasure.

"y'feel so good," you nearly go limp, your fourth orgasm drawn out by the touch of the man you couldn't ever stop thinking about. he's so deep inside you, you're surprised you can't feel him in your throat as he thrusts. "pretty girl," he mutters, pinching one of your nipples and sending shockwaves through you; the relief you'd felt from your orgasm, just like the previous ones, is soon washed away by the newly replaced desire, back again and somehow even more hungry.

you nearly cry at the thought, but something in you still yearns for it and you allow your ankles to cross around his hips. "never wanna leave this cunt." he mutters against your collarbone. you flutter again at his words, arousal slicking you, him, the sheets below you; the squelch of your juices fill the room as he chases his own high.

a particularly loud cry of pleasure lands you with his hand yet again over your mouth, but this time, you waste no time in pulling his fingers to your lips, sucking two of them in eagerly as your hand tries to wrap around his thick wrist.

his eyes meet yours and his jaw clenches as his hips stutter, nearing his own high. his fingers work quick; thrusting into your mouth, slick with your spit, gagging you as he bottoms out particularly roughly. your nails scrape down his back and you'd be more shocked if there weren't marks later.

a few more thrusts and you can tell he's close, so you pull his fingers out of your mouth to gasp, "please, cum in me, Joel," you whimper into his neck, biting down hard as he groans your name. his hand suddenly clasps around your throat, pushing you down against the mattress as he fucks into you deep, his eyes screwed shut, "don' say shit like that to me, darlin'."

but his thrusts are getting sloppier as you squeeze around him, luring him in, the intoxicating scent of soap and him and his musk surrounding your head. "please, I'll do anything." you whine, hand crawling up his neck to cradle his jaw. his dark eyes meet yours and he moans at how earnest you look, his hand tightening his grip around your throat and squeezing slightly, your airway constricted for a slight moment, causing you to gasp for air when he leans back.

your desire has you cloudily begging, pulling at his hair, his arms, his back, keeping him in, and finally he growls, "shut up." he snaps, "'m gonna cum in you, and you better be fuckin' good." he barely looks at you as he lightly slaps one of your tits, grabbing the other and pinching your hardened nipple as he watches your whole body bounce from the force of his thrusts. "god, you feel so good." he mutters to himself. you preen at the praise, your own high creeping near.

your lips are clamped shut, his hand holding your head down from your throat as you nearly scream, his thrusts slowing and sloppy. he lets out a delicious moan as he hits his high. "that's right, take me." he mutters, his chest shaking as he cums; he's moaning loud as he thrusts one last time, his seed coating your walls.

"fuck." he eases, his thumb falling to soothe over your hairline gently as he releases into you. "so good for me, aren't you?"

you swallow, the burning fire of desire still smoldering in your core, your tear trails long since dried, your body exhausted but full of energy. you nod, unable to trust your words.

he pumps into you slowly once more before pulling all the way out, the noise of your slick and his cum slippery as you feel empty without him filling you.

but he's already distracted, his eyes hazy as he watches a bit of his cum spill from your weeping hole, his thumb dropping to slide it back up and into you, pressing against your entrance, your breath catching.

"is it- is it gone for you?" he asks, his voice strained. you don't need to look down to see that the venom hasn't yet run its course through his system yet; his eyes are still alight with the same animalistic desire that you feel pounding in your heart. your feverish sweating, the headache - most of it's gone, replaced with an intense, destructive desire that has you keening into his hand as it cups your used pussy, his eyes teasing.

"no," you moan, "you?"

he's already dropping to his knees as he breathes out, "no."

your eyes widen. in your haze, you're searching for any relief for this growing arousal, the feelings you have for Joel driving you to beg endlessly for him, yet you hadn't expected him to do this. immediately, his hands wrap around your shaking thighs, his breath hitting your bare, throbbing pussy. you can't even think as you card your fingers back through his hair, hips jerking up away from his face as he licks a small stripe over her swollen clit.

you're so worked up that you can't help the tightening coil as he soon dives his tongue into you, cleaning up the mess you'd made between your thighs, swirling around your clit.

you tug hard at his hair's roots, hard enough he's sending a groan into you that reverberates through you, vibrating your chest as you clamp one hand over your lips.

fiery pleasure snakes through your body, your ankles falling over his shoulder onto his back as he eats you out like a staved man. you see his arm moving through your clouded vision and you let out a pathetic whimper as you realize the wet noises aren't just from his mouth on you: he's fucking his fist. his movements make your legs shake hard, eyes rolling back as he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue.

“Joel,” you mutter, his name the only thing that can come out of your mouth as you can’t help but grind down slightly. Joel's hands are hard on your hips; you know tomorrow as you pull on your jeans, you'll have ten fingerprints marked into you.

it sends a delicious swirl of pride through you as he moans into you, "you taste so good, darlin'.” he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to your heat. your eyes roll back again as one of his hands reaches up to grasp your tit, thumb and finger pinching and rolling as he fucks his tongue into you. one of his hands snakes up to your ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making you buck your hips against him.

“Joel, i-” you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, the overstimulating pressure making it increasingly harder to speak. your toes curl and head tilts back as his teeth graze over your clit, your thighs clenching shut as your orgasm nears violently quick.

"you gonna cum again?" he mutters, barely breaking away from you, his own hand moving fast as he fucks his fist; you yearn to feel him in your mouth, to taste him. “please, please.” you mutter, your hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at your clit and making you cry out. “please, make me cum, Joel.” you plead, tugging his head closer, his hand slapping your ass again.

and then you're clenching your thighs on either side of him and grinding down as you hit your peak, shaking in pleasure. you grind yourself onto his tongue as he drinks you in, cleaning you of every last drop, his thumb soothing over your hip. he rides you through your high, lapping at you and only pulling away when you go lax on the mattress, legs twitching, gasps ragged and scarce.

you'd have probably passed out right then and there if it hadn't been for his own strangled grunt, your eyes snapping back to him, to where his hand wraps around his own dick, slick with your cum and his own spit.

"Joel," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot as your mind starts to lift, desire yet again pooling between your thighs as you slide down, off the bed until your back hits it, hands caressing over his thighs, "let me taste you." you ask, cheek hot as it lays on his thigh, your eyes begging up at him.

he moans deeply as one had slides behind your neck, steadying you as his other grips himself, "stick out your tongue." his pupils are blown so wide you can only see black. you follow his order, sticking out your tongue as you eagerly lean towards his cock, his brows furrowing as he slaps your tongue with himself.

his hands tug you towards him, your lips tugging over him as you take him into your mouth, trying your best to look up at him. you gag around him as he thrusts his hips forward, your hands flying up to grip his thighs. "fuck, look at you," he moans, his grip tight against your head, slowly starting to fuck your throat, your eyes tearing up. "so eager for me, bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, hm?"

your face heats up as you hum, unable to say anything as he slides into you, tip pushing against your throat, your eyes rolling back. "yeah, you would. i know you think about it, darlin'. think about it all the time."

you should be embarrassed to learn that Joel had, under more sober circumstances, noticed how you acted around him. but instead you let the trail of spit slide down your chin and onto your bare breasts, your fingers pushing it over your hardened nipples as he pulls off your mouth.

you gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes. "get on the bed." he orders and you scramble with weak legs onto the mattress, staring at him, the familiarly torturous desire in you throbbing. his hands push you around until you're on your elbows and knees, his hand swatting your ass. "gonna cum on that pretty ass." he mutters, hand grabbing a handful of the plush skin as he spreads you open, "okay?"

"yes, yes, please." you mutter, face sweaty and stuck with your wet hair as he leans down, spitting onto your glistening, puffy cunt. you're nearly sobbing into the sheets as he slides into your wet, warm hole, his groans just as wrecked as you.

"jesus christ, girl." he mutters to himself as he starts to thrust into you, the new angle setting your whole body alight with the coiled pleasure. it builds fast until you feel like you're on fire, his hands rough against your hips, swatting your ass every time your hips pulled away from the overstimulation.

"you need to come." his breath is hot as it hits your cheek, his chest pressing to your back. he's deep into you, tip hitting your sweet spot with every rolling thrust of his hips. then slipping one hand onto the back of your neck, the other snaking to toy with your sensitive clit.

your legs nearly give out as your back arches, the orgasm crashing over you before you can even register it.

you can't see, blind with the bliss of pleasure; your thighs shake as he mutters dirty words into your ear, Joel's hips stuttering as you clamp and flutter around him, slickening yourself and his pubic hair, skin wet with your arousal. you're so sensitive you can't do anything but take his cock as he fucks you, deeper and slower as though he's coming down with the mind fog just as you.

when he hits his own mind-numbing orgasm, he's pulling out of you fast and finishing in hot spurts onto your ass, streaking up your lower back and sliding down into your quivering core.

your name is the only thing on his lips as he slowly slumps down onto the mattress next to you.

you both wait; it's silent besides your sniffling from the overstimulation and the soreness of your throat and Joel's labored breaths. you both wait to see if that torturous feeling comes back to your groins, suffocating and clouding your judgement.

but instead, the fog clears, and within five minutes of silence and stoicism, you're sure that whatever the venom was, it'd passed through your system. "Joel?" you whisper it, cracking slightly. you hear his head shift; he'd not looked at you at all. you're not sure you blame him, embarrassment creeping through your face. but not regret. definitely not regret.

he whispers your name back, and there's a vulnerability in it that has your eyes snapping to his, searching for the dilation of his pupils, any sign to show the venom was still in his system. you can't find any. "do you- is it gone? for you?"

he blinks at you once before nodding his head, "yes. n'you?" you nod at him, muttering a small, "yeah."

he knows he should go get a cloth to clean you up. he'd possibly have to help you up, help you dress... his throat dries as his now less foggy brain recovers the memories of moments ago; the size of your pupils blown out with lust. he looks over you; he'd ruined you.

another wave of self-doubt runs through him; you were not like him, you weren't bad like him. you deserve better.

but the way you stare at him now, as though you want nothing more than to do what you'd both just done every day with him...

he opens an arm, accepting you as you slide your limp, exhausted body against his own naked form, his arm squeezing you to his chest as he sighs deeply. you nuzzle your face into his neck, your own heart racing just as fast as his.

he feels like a damn fool - it'd been far too long for him, he's not sure how to approach these feelings he harbors for you, so he'd hidden them down with anger and irritation and eye rolls; but now he's gone and fucked you like you were just some other whore.

his lips press to your forehead. he doesn't think he can say anything, not right now. he still feels like he's got a fever, and by the looks of you, you feel it too.

so he hopes the kiss he tenderly lays on your hairline says what he can't: he's sorry he was rough with you. he hopes you're okay. he hopes you don't regret it. he hopes you know... he hopes you know it wasn't just about that damn plant’s venom.

he pulls away from you after just a moment, rising to tug on his boxers. but as he crosses the threshold into the bathroom to gather a washcloth for you, your soft voice stops him.

"Joel." you mutter, eyes nervous, exhausted. he stops, looking at you.

you're just as nervous as he looks; you're unsure how to interact with him now, the man you trust with your life, the one who acts like he hates you, the one you know probably loves you; and then you'd fucked him like he was just a dick, though you wish you could tell him: he's so much to you.

"that wasn't-" you're unsure how to convey it, "it wasn't just about the-whatever that plant was. I don't regret it. and I hope you don't either." you're glad it sounds as genuine as you feel when you say it. you want him to know he didn't hurt you. and you hope you didn't hurt him.

his face flashes with relief, with adoration. "I don't." he says, turning from you quickly.

and if his lips ghost over your knees and leave goosebumps on their wake, if his hands soothe gently over every budding bruise of his handprint on your hip; you don't mention it now.

if he gently and devotedly wipes you both clean, if your hands fold together as he settles back down against you, if your hearts beat together as you settle into the fever nap that claims you both; you just smile gently at his bashful grin.

and if your lips brush against each other just before the sleep takes you both; well, then you'll talk about it all later.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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margotw10bis · 5 months

Text

Crashing On Crush. JJK 4 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: alcohol consumption; protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); praising kink; mention of passed harassment

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Jungkook left a few minutes after because he had to wake up early the next morning. You were disappointed because after sharing such an intimate moment, you would have liked him to stay. You have felt so close to him. And you had the feeling that your connection disappeared with his absence. You have felt so alive, and the next moment you are completely alone, and not so much alive. It was kind of terrifying how your mood changed because of him: you were beyond clouds when he was next to you, and completely in the darkness when he left. This emotional rollercoaster made you cried that night. You were too lost in your own feelings. You felt closer to him and at the same time so far away.

The whole next day, you kept making mistakes at work, your brain overthinking the last night. You were thinking about Jungkook and wondering if he were thinking about you too. The possibility of it not being the case and of you being just another girl he had fun with squeezed your heart.

That's why, heading out of the art gallery, you thought like you could finally breathe. The pure fresh air of Seoul filled your lungs like it was your very first breathing. That's when you saw him, leaning against his black Mercedes.

Jungkook smiles at you when he notices you. A genuine smile, that makes you smile equally. A pure wave of happiness wraps your body and you wish you could jump in his arms. Once again, a little word with huge meaning starting with 'L' pops in your mind and warms your heart.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him, trying to not sound as cheerful as you are

"To see you"

The simple but so sweet respond attacks your heart. It should be illegal to be such a flirt.

"I was thinking I could cook for you"

"Oh, you know how to cook?" You tease him

"Are you questioning my cooking skills?" He replies, a brow lifting up suspiciously

Jungkook's smile is so pretty. When he smiles, he looks like the happiest man alive and, oddly, seeing him happy makes you happy too. You realize that you want to make him happy.

"Prove me wrong then" You say, opening his car door.

———

You didn't know what to expect from Jungkook's apartment but it surely looks like him: a big living room with a huge TV screen, a large black leather couch, some paintings on the walls ; a modern open kitchen and a dark wood diner table making the transition between the cooking area and the living room. You see some photos of him, his family and his friends. It's like Jungkook has brought all his memories from his brain and materialized it into his place. You feel good here, at peace, like in a cocoon, protected from the outside world. It's the same feeling that when he wraps his arms around your frame.

As Jungkook washes his hands with soap in the kitchen sink, he speaks up:

"Do you want some ramyeon?"

You immediately burst into laugher and Jungkook follows you.

"I mean, real ramyeon but if you want that, I will love it too"

"Real ramyeon is okay" You say, blushing

Jungkook starts boiling water in a saucepan and grabs two packs of Shin Ramyun, the less spicy ones after you told him that you were sensitive. It doesn't take long for the noodles to be ready and you two sit down at the dinner table.

The conversation goes smoothly. You talk about you two, your childhoods, the things you like and don't like. You just get to know each other. Despite being unlabeled, it looks like the beginning of a relationship. Few memories of how it started with your ex-boyfriends come back to you and you realize that what you are leaving now with Jungkook is like that, but way better because you get along on so many things. You laugh at the same jokes, you are upset about the same things, you care about the same subjects. However, you don't want to rush things. It's been a long time since you were in a relationship and you want to take your time. You don't have to put a name on what you and Jungkook are.

"Do you have nicknames?" You ask him at some point

"Actually, I have a lot of them: JK, Kook, Kookie" He pauses and a sparkle of playfulness brightens his doe eyes "Daddy..."

"Jungkook!" You blush and choke at the same time, which makes him laugh.

"You can call me whatever you want"

"What's your favorite nickname? And don't say Daddy" You ask him, genuinely wanting to call him by a name he likes

Jungkook takes the time to think and then, gets a tiny closer to you. When he talks back, his voice is way deeper and you feel a change in the air around you.

"Call me yours"

You don't understand what happens next because in just one second, your lips are on Jungkook's. He grabs your waist to pull you closer, basically putting you on his laps. Your hands are in his smooth, long hair. Your kiss is messy, eager and your panties gets quickly soaked. Then, Jungkook pulls you up and leans you on the table, the tableware pushed aside carelessly. The cold and hard material in your back contrast with the fire in your body and the softness of Jungkook's lips on your neck. His hands struggle to unbutton your pale yellow blouse and he is too impatient to wait. With a sharp movement, he pulls over both sides, causing all the little buttons to pop and fall around you.

"Jungkook!" You scold him

"I'll buy you a new one"

He even seems amused and kisses your breasts. It's enough for you to forget about the ripped clothes. Jungkook sneaks a hand on your back and undoes your bra. He quickly takes off both your messed up blouse and your bra. Then, he cups your boobs with his large and warm palms and takes the time to admire your picked nipples - caused by the cold air on your burning skin and your horniness. His mouth dives onto your nipples and he rolls his tongue around it, sucks on it and gently bites it. The simulation of this sensitive zone causes you to moan his name. You tell him to take off his shirt - honestly, who will say no to sneak on his perfect body?

You flick his firm chest and abs. He is way too handsome with no shirt on. But Jungkook doesn't give you too much time to enjoy the show because he unzips your black slacks and slides them down with your panties. Completely naked, you feel his glaze on you and you blush when he licks his lips, ready to eat you out.

"You are so beautiful" He whispers before he kneels down to kiss your pussy.

A choked whimper escapes your mouth. Feeling Jungkook's lips on you, and especially on your wet pussy, is electrifying. A wave of arousal washes over your body. He eats you out like a starved man. You feel your juice mixed with his saliva dripping down to your ass and your pussy clenches on nothing until Jungkook hears your silenced prayers and enters you with two fingers.

"Oh my god!" You exclaim at the sudden and delightful stretch

"I love how tight you are, babe"

You barely hear his voice because his mouth is glued to your clit but the pet name drives you crazy. You're losing your head, trying to grip the corner of the table not to lose your sanity under these perfect tongue flicks. Jungkook enhances the pace of his fingers, hitting your g-spot every time. You can't take it any longer and you feel your orgasm building up in your body so fast that you can't even tell Jungkook - not that he needs you to speak because your walls around his fingers getting tighter tell enough. You scream his name when you reach your climax, spams of pleasure all over your body.

You look literally fucked up and it's what Jungkook wanted. Seeing and even feeling your pleasure makes him horny. He can feel his hard cock completely squeezed in his pants, it's uncomfortable. You naked is a view he wishes to see everyday. At this thought, he can't help but caressing his dick through the fabric of his clothes and he kisses your inner thighs, he even bites them gently. The contact of his teeth on your sensitive skin makes you flinch. He knows damn well how to use his pretty mouth... He ends up sucking on your inner thigh skin to leave a mark. He loves thinking that you're his, even if it's just for a moment. His possessiveness doesn't just turn him on, it does the same to you. Someway, you are proud he wants you the same way you want him, and you do want to be his. And you want him to be yours.

You are out of breathe, slowly reaching down on Earth after being beyond clouds. You don't think straight and that's why your mouth speaks without consulting your brain.

"I want you" You hear your raspy post-orgasm voice says

Jungkook kisses you, some of your juice mixing in your mouth with your and his salivas. He leaves you just a few seconds and comes back with a metallic square packet in his hand.

"Are you sure?" He asks you

"Yes"

You have no doubt. You want Jungkook. You want to feel the closest you can, you want to feel him in you.

He kisses you, more gently than before, almost in a romantic way, before taking off his pants and underwear. The sight cuts your breathe: his cock is already hard. You can't deny that a new wave of wetness shakes your pussy. You wonder how stretching will his thick length be, you know he will fill you completely.

He puts the condom on, and gives himself a few pumps before placing his body closer to yours, right between your opened legs. The few seconds you have to wait to feel him are like torture. The emptiness of your pussy and the beautiful view of his hard cock so close to you makes you shiver in an impatient horniness. You're losing your mind, but it's even worse when Jungkook takes his length and slides upon your dripping pussy. You moan and then whine in pleasure when you feel it rubbing your swollen clit, causing a spam in all your body. His hard cock on your sensitive bud is the most delightful thing in the whole world.

"Jungkook, please" You beg

Once again, you don't know how much you are turning him on with your plea. "What a good girl", he thinks when he finally enters you. Slowly. Making you feel each inch stretching you and causing your mouth to open. It's so big, painful. It's so good. You don't really know if it's his cock or the realization of him filling you up but you are, once again, on the edge of your orgasm. However, you want this delightful sin to last as long as possible. That's why, when he is deep inside you, all his thick dick swallowed by your cunt, you put a hand on his firm abs to stop him from moving. You need to control yourself and take deep breathes. He is standing up, having the greatest view of your entire perfect body. Even though his position makes him dominant, on the inside, you are shaking everything in Jungkook. You could ask him anything, he would say 'yes'.

"You're so good" Jungkook says in a raspy voice before pecking you, this small gesture squeezes your heart with sweetness

When you begin to whimper from the lack of the now needed sliding, Jungkook gets the message and starts bumping. He begins quite slow but enhances the pace at each single bang. Your breasts bounces at the same rhythm and it's a call for him to grab your boob with his tattooed hand. His skin is even hotter than yours and the feeling is so damn good. His touch is like a delicious burn on your skin. His left hand keeps you in place while he penetrates you again and again. He enters you with all his length each time, hitting your g-spot. The pace is the perfect one: just providing the good amount of pain before it's unbearable. But what is unbearable is the arousal growing even bigger in your body.

"Oh my fucking god!"

"You're taking me so good, Y/N. So fucking perfect"

His head spins by the amount of pleasure. It's the pleasure of stretching your tight pussy but also of being the one in you. He keeps telling to himself how beautiful you are and how perfect your pussy feels around his cock, just like you were made for him. He wants each pounding to remind you that, at this moment, you're his and he's yours. There is nothing in the world but your two bodies being one.

He leans down to kiss you messily. You grab his hair and moan his name in his mouth. How can you survive so much pleasure? It's not just his perfect cock, Jungkook exactly knows how to move. He seems to know what you like, what you want and he gives it to you at the exact right time. That's why it's the best, best, best sex in your life.

"Are you so wet just for me?" His voice is full of cockiness and it makes you crazy, even his possessiveness creates a wave of arousal between your legs and makes your walls clench around him. "Answer me" He orders, giving a slap on the side of your ass, tightening your pussy even more and Jungkook mentally notes that you like that.

"Yes! Yes!" You repeat the only words you manage to say

"You're such a good girl" You can hear his smirk in his breathless voice, and it's fucking hot

You are so close, his cock stretching and pounding your dripping cunt. Jungkook feels your pussy clenching and he smirks. His inked hand leaves your breast to rub your clit, tightening your walls even more. It begins to be hard for him to enter you smoothly when you're so tight.

"Oh my god, Jungkook!" You moan, fighting to keep your eyes open just to see his face full of horniness and his messy-fuck hair sticked on his forehead. He is so perfect, so handsome. His puffy lips are slightly open and you swear that when he looks into your eyes, you can see his soul for a second.

"So fucking tight" He says with his jaws clenched, trying to not cum before you "Cum for me, babe. Cum around my cock"

His puzzling possessiveness towards you pushes him to fuck you harder. Eyes closed by the overwhelming wave of arousal, you have no idea that Jungkook is still watching you. So beautiful with your face torn by pleasure. He wishes to be the only one to witness it, the only one to provide you such an orgasm. And in fact, you've never cummed this hard. You get choked up, unable to make any noise, when you feel the most alive than you've ever felt - you don't even know if you're still on Earth - but Jungkook keeps fucking you through your orgasm. The overstimulation is almost too painful. Almost.

"Please, please" You groan

You don't know if it's for him to stop, to continue or to urge him to feel how good cumming right now is. Anyway, just a few poundings are enough for Jungkook after your little begging to fill the condom.

You are both panting and sweaty. Jungkook almost collapses on you and your burning skins melt into each other's. You feel so... overwhelmed. You don't even know what you're feeling right now except that you want to feel him closer. Not physically because you can't be closer than that - especially when Jungkook is still inside you - but emotionally. Your shaky hands - caused by the orgasms or your emotion - caresses his sticky hair. Jungkook throws his strong arms around you and rests his head on your breast, listening to your pounding heart. The feeling of your fingers playing with his black strands is soothing, he likes it. No, he loves it. He has never felt like this, in complete peace. He knows he is where he is to be.

You're happy Jungkook can't see your face because two big tears escape your eyes for an indeterminate reason. Well, actually, deep down, you know the reason but you're not ready to accept it just yet. Thankfully, you have time to dry your eyes before Jungkook lifts his pretty head and kisses you. A real, beautiful, perfect kiss. A kiss that says everything, every truth of the world and even more. Or is it your imagination because of your foggy post-amazing-orgasm brain?

Jungkook straightens up slowly and pulls out from you. The void between your legs is unpleasant, like a piece of you is missing. He grabs your hand to help to get off the table. Your weak and shaky legs abandon you but Jungkook's quick reflexes prevent you from hitting the ground.

"Wooh, easy cowboy" He laughs, kissing your temples

Why does he have to be so cute right now? Your legs are not the only part of your body to be weak at this moment: your heart is too. And his bunny smile, his adorable doe eyes and his scrunched nose are a huge threat.

You try to push this thoughts away and concentrate on stabilizing yourself. When you feel like you won't directly drop, you carefully let go of Jungkook's support.

"I should go take a shower" You say with a still raspy voice

"Sure, I'll give you a towel. And a t-shirt" He tells you playfully, glancing at your yellow once blouse.

You try to clean yourself quickly to give way to Jungkook but you still take the time to appreciate the smell of his body wash. It's not the usual strong and manly scent but a sophisticate amber and lemony fragrance. You realize it's perfect for Jungkook: mannish but soft at the same time. Okay, your brain is definitely not working well if you think his body wash is a mirror for his personality...

Out of the bathroom with the clean oversize black t-shirt and a pair of boxers that Jungkook gave you, you see him cleaning the diner table dressed only with his underwear. The mesmerizing view makes you blush. You don't say anything to enjoy the show a little longer. But Jungkook eventually notices you and gives you a genuine smile.

"You can choose a movie while I go shower, if you want"

He says that so naturally. Does that mean he expects you to stay over? Not that you complain but last time he left, so you kind of supposed you'd have to leave too. You are in fact really happy to stay and to spend more time with Jungkook after this intimate moment. Does he feel like something changed too? It was not only the sex but the few minutes after, while you were pressed against each other. You know what aftercare is but it was more than that.

———

"What are you doing this weekend?" Jungkook asks you

The movie has been going on for almost a hour now. You were surprised - but so happy - when Jungkook sat next to you and pulled closer, his arm around your shoulders. The fact that you smelled the same kind of made your heart beat faster. Silly, you thought. It was so good that you didn't want to think it was anything more than after-sex moment because if Jungkook decided to not see you again, you knew it would hurt you.

But now, he is asking for this weekend. So maybe, just maybe, he wants to see you again. Maybe to start something more serious?

"I have a thing Saturday. But I'm free Friday night and Sunday" You try to control your smile. "What about you?"

"I was thinking we could go to the Lotte aquarium. Have you been there?"

"Never" You answer, remembering that Suzi and you always talked about visiting it but always ended up doing something else. "I'd love to go"

You bite your lower lip to prevent you from asking "Is it a date?".

"Great" Jungkook smiles at you with his cute bunny smile, relieved that you agreed to go out with him. "What are your plans for Saturday, if it's okay for me to ask?"

"One of my friends is graduating from high school"

"You have young friends!" He jokes

"Yah, I'm not that old! You, on the other hand, can't say the same" You tease and he looks falsely offended

"Come on, Y/N, I'm like three years older"

You don't really think before kissing Jungkook. It's only when you pull your lips apart that you realize that you got carried away by the flirty situation and that you might have crossed a line.

Seeing the panic in your eyes, Jungkook reassures you by kissing you. Himself can't get enough of your pretty lips. Being with you, watching a movie, having you in his arms seems so natural to him. As it's always have been like that. He doesn't know why, and he doesn't even try to understand. He just wants to enjoy it.

And he does. All night. You sleeping in his bed is a blessing, almost a dream. That's why he wraps your body with an arm: he makes sure that you won't disappear. He can't deny that this fear comes with old demons that he tries to push away.

———

"Jongseob!" You scream your friend's name like a proud mom

He is wearing his high school uniform and, something unusual, he has styled his caramel hair - and yes, he has been punished for dying his hair. However, you can't yell at him when he is this cute.

"Noona!"

He immediately jumps at you and you notice that he has grown since the last time you saw him a few month ago.

"I'm so, so proud of you" You tell him, hugging him tightly. "I have something for you"

Jongseob grabs the bag you hand him and takes a look. His almond eyes sparkles and his lovely smile gets bigger. He looks genuinely happy to discover the new video game he told you about and a full box of donuts from your favorite coffee shop.

You are moved to see him happy. It's a drastic change from your first encounter and each time you think about it, your heart is painfully squeezed. It was three years ago. Suzi had sent you a text to tell you that she would be late. Grumbling, you decided to start shopping for the weekend party without her. You were strolling in Myeongdong when you heard some strange noises coming from a narrowed alley. A small group of high schoolers were having fun. Or that's what you thought at first. But watching carefully, you noticed that four of them were, indeed having fun from bullying a younger boy. You felt panicked, sad and angry. You didn't think a second before rushing toward them and yelling at them. They might have think you were crazy.

"If you touch him again, I swear to God that I will make you regret being born" You told them

It was not really your threat but the fading amusement that made them leave. When you turned around, you saw this scared but cute boy. You hugged him tightly and told him that he'd never be alone again. After that, you both sat at your now favorite coffee and you payed him a donut. Since then, Jongseob is like your little brother. You really, purely love each other. And you are so, so proud of him: he is more confident now and he graduates with special mention.

You can see in Jongseob's eyes that he is also thinking about your first encounter. Both of you have watery eyes now. He's never told you that he thinks you're his guardian angel. You helped him so much that he made a promise to himself: he will work hard and will give everything you want. He will take care of you the same way you took care of him. You're the person who knows him the most, like a big sister, his Noona.

You let him go join his classmates and you sit on the bleachers to follow the graduation. Pride brightens your eyes and warms your heart. When the headmaster calls 'Kim Jongseob', he stands up, takes his diploma and looks for you in the crowd. When his eyes meet yours, he waves at you with his certificate, a perfect sign of success after all he's been through.

"Noona, I'm not a kid anymore" Jongseob complains when you hand him a hot chocolate

You roll your eyes. After the ceremony, you invited him at the coffee shop and ordered the usual: a hot chocolate for Jongseob, a latte for you and two glazed lemon donuts - you told him to bring back home the ones you gave him earlier.

"Yah! It's not because you're not in high school anymore that you can't drink hot chocolate. Come on, I know you love it"

With a sigh, Jongseob gives up the protest and takes a sip. The sweet flavor makes him forget why he wanted anything else.

"I'm so proud of you"

"Stop! You said that a hundred times today"

"I know but it's true"

You can't control your emotion. Like you said earlier, you look like a proud mom and you are not going to be sorry for that. Moreover, you know that Jongseob is secretly happy to know how you feel about him, his own parents are not very supportive.

Jongseob's phone rings and he immediately jumps on it. He reads the text, blushes and answers. You squint and wait for him to put down the device. Jongseob notices the suspicious and amused expression on your face.

"What?" He asks, blushing harder

"Don't you have something to tell me?" You take a sip of your latte, trying to act detached while you're dying to know all the details

"There is this girl, Jiwon, she is so pretty and nice. We-we talk, that's all"

"You like her?"

"I-I think"

Jongseob is too cute when he is shy. He is a good guy, you have no doubt that Jiwon will see it too. You are also happy that he found someone, a friend, to talk to. After being bullied, it was hard for him to trust other people and you were the only one he talked to. But you have noticed a slight change in him: he is more open to others and, even if they can't be described as 'friends', he spends some time with them.

"What about you, Noona?"

"There is this guy, Jungkook, he is so pretty and nice" You tease him and Jongseob gently slaps your arm to make you stop. "I'm kidding! But for real, there is a guy. I don't really know what we are"

Actually, you are glad to talk about Jungkook to someone. You know you can talk to Suzi but she is too implicated so Jongseob can help you see things differently, especially when he doesn't know Jungkook.

"What would you like you two to be?"

It's a simple question. And yet, you never thought about it. When you're with Jungkook, you feel so good. He makes you happy, alive and it's more than just sex. The physical attraction you've had for him for months became something deeper when you started spending time with him. It's also scary how such a short time was enough for your heart and your brain to be full of Jungkook.

"I... want him" You whisper "I feel alive when I'm with him. I don't know how to explain but I want to be with him"

"What are you wanting for?"

You look at Jongseob with a surprised and confused look. He looks so confident - you don't know that it's thank to you that he can be.

"Go tell him. You have nothing to loose. And honestly, if this Jungkook guy doesn't want to be with you, he sucks"

Jongseob's cute smile gives you courage. He gives you a 'go girl!' look. You grab you bag, kiss Jongseob on his chubby cheek and waves him goodbye.

———

The bus ride allowed you to organize your speech. You feel so fucking stressed. Your heart beats loudly in your chest. You know that it's not easy to lay yourself bare and confess your feelings but you also know that you shared something real with Jungkook. You can't be the only one to feel this way, he must feel it too.

You arrive at the closest bus stop to Jungkook's. You place your hand on your crazy beating heart and take a deep breathe. It's okay, nothing can go wrong. You walk to his building and you are surprised to see him, standing up next to his Mercedes. You are ready to call him out but you throat goes dry when you see a girl hugging him.

What the hell?

You are close enough to hear them talking. But this can't be happening. It's all a misunderstanding, like in movies. The girl took him for someone else, or Jungkook is going to push her away. But no. The ground is opening under your feet, swallowing you. However, it's even more painful when you hear what they are saying.

"Kookie, I need you" The girl says in Jungkook's chest

"I'm here, I'm not leaving you"

Each word coming from his mouth is a dragger in your broken heart.

He wraps his arms around the fragile girl's body, an awful reminder that he's done the exact same thing to you just a few days ago.

"I love you" She says

Please, don't. Don't say it.

"I love you too"

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#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts jungkook #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #jjk #jjk x reader #jungkook #jjk smut #smut #kpop smut #female reader #x reader

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wanderinginksplot · 11 months

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What to watch during the writer's strike:

Don't pay attention to companies who blame writers for delayed movies and television shows! The WGA strike comes from people who are trying to make things better - not only for themselves and other writers, but the films and tv shows we all love.

While we wait for a resolution, I thought I would share some existing television shows that I enjoy. I didn't bother with too much well-known stuff. Instead, I focused on shows I feel many people missed because of the glut of content that all premiered at once over the last few years. (I may make another one of these for movies later on, but this one is about tv.)

[Update: Movie version here]

Feel free to add on! Just try to give a quick, spoiler-free synopsis for the show and the streaming service where it can be found.

List under the cut!

Netflix:

The Good Place (2016-2020) - A 'bad' woman is accidentally sent to heaven. She and her moral philosophy professor of a soulmate try to save her soul by making her a better person. Genre: Comedy with deeper implications and one of the best endings in television history.

Russian Doll (2019-2022) - When Nadia dies at her birthday party, she's more than a little confused to come back. Especially when it keeps happening. Genre: Time loop drama with a wicked sense of humor and a dash of theoretical physics. Potentially not ended?

Narcos (2015-2017) - The fight of the American DEA and the Colombian army against cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar and his reign of terror. Genre: Drama with thrilling elements. Lots of violence, some sex and language. Lots of subtitles. Features Pedro Pascal and Boyd Holbrook, if you need some extra incentive.

Derry Girls (2018-2022) - Five teens grow up in Derry, Ireland in the 1990s, amid the final years of the Troubles, a low-level war that lasted roughly 30 years. Genre: Comedy. Some sexual content, some religious content, less violence than you would expect, and the best nun ever to appear on film.

Arcane (2021-?) - Two sisters are alienated when one accidentally kills their adoptive father. Their different paths threaten the fragile peace of a city already on the breaking point. Genre: Drama with elements of action-adventure. Though it's animated, Arcane's animation is beautifully done with tantalizing steampunk elements that will keep you invested.

Disney+:

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008-2020) - If you haven't seen any of the Star Wars animated series, this is a good place to start. Set in the time gap between Episode II and Episode III, this series helps flesh out Anakin Skywalker and the Jedi. It is also a great introduction to some of the characters and plots of The Mandalorian. (Star Wars: Rebels is another good choice.) Genre: Adventure with some drama. Violence and death are a large part of The Clone Wars, but it's usually appropriate for children. The clone troopers will steal your heart!

Gravity Falls (2012-2016) - Dipper Pines and his sister Mabel are sent to Gravity Falls, Oregon to live with their great-uncle for their summer break. But when Dipper finds a mysterious book in the woods, the pair find that Gravity Falls is far more mysterious than it seems... Genre: Adventure with a lot of comedy. Though it's billed as a children's cartoon, Gravity Falls is an intriguing watch with mystery subplots that will keep anyone guessing. It also features a famously strong and cohesive series ending. I was in my late 20s when I first watched this and I was still invested!

Daredevil (2015-2018) - After being blinded as a young boy, Matthew Murdock trained his other senses to replace the sight that he lost. He uses his skills to protect the helpless in the New York City neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen. Genre: Action and superhero. Features a lot of incredibly choreographed violence. (Jessica Jones is also an excellent show to watch, especially if you think of David Tennant as the consummate 'good guy'. He's got range!)

HBO Max (Just 'Max' now, I guess):

Ghosts (2019-2023) - Petty roommate squabbles don't stop just because you're dead! Alison and her husband Mike inherit a house, then a near-death experience allows Alison to see its ghostly inhabitants. Chaos and humor ensue as the ghosts try to adjust to the house's new owners. Genre: Humor. Ghosts is a British sitcom, but since the writers are comedians (writing and performing in Horrible Histories), the show is done in a style that feels more natural to American viewers. Hint: watch the BBC version, not the American one. They're fairly similar, but definitely not the same!

Pushing Daisies (2007-2009) - A pie-maker with the ability to bring back the dead helps to solve murders. He's helped by his once-dead childhood sweetheart. Genre: Comedy with some dramatic elements. Some of the CGI-heavy moments haven't aged particularly well, but the show has a unique premise and an incredibly talented cast!

Hulu:

Abbott Elementary (2021-?) - This mockumentary series showcases an inner-city elementary school in Philadelphia. The teachers and administration do their best for the kids, but they're constrained by budgets and the limitations of the educational system itself. Genre: Comedy mockumentary. Though Abbott Elementary is fictional, some of the issues brought up are all too real. This is a funny and incisive look at the American public school system.

Amazon Prime:

Fleabag (2016-2019) - The unnamed protagonist of the show struggles through life on her own with limited support from her alienated family and the memories of her recently deceased best friend. Genre: Comedy with lots of dramatic elements. Lots of sexual content and references, some language, breaking the fourth-wall, and several characters you just long to hit. I watched the second season in a single day, that's how good this was.

Unknown Streaming Service:

Black Sails (2014-2017) - This prequel to Treasure Island features elements from the book, original characters, and real pirates from history in a setting that emphasizes realism. Captain Flint and his crew search for a legendary prize... one that might allow them to claim Nassau for their own. Genre: Action and adventure. Think Game of Thrones, but with pirates. Incredibly well-written and well-acted with gorgeous scenery, LGBTQ representation, and just enough historical accuracy to keep things grounded. Black Sails also boasts one of the best endings ever given for a television show.

Like I said, please feel free to reblog and add your own television show recommendations onto this list! There are plenty of things to watch and plenty of ways to support the WGA strike that don't involve giving in to big studios.

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cusn0 · 6 months

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A new novel from the series about the famous detective Dick Mullen, soon in all bookshops of Revachol.

the song i got inspiration from is Natalie Wood by Tv Girl, especially the voiceover at the start. and the colours of background were kinda inspired by the cover of "In Rainbows" Radiohead album.

also this art was kinda challenging to me since i never drew complex backs and compositions before

#klaasje is so tv girl coded i can't #klaasje amandou #disco elysium #harry du bois #art #de #disco elysium art #artists on tumblr #digital art #de harry #klaasje disco elysium #de art #illustration #tv girl #hdb #cusn art

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whoisshel · 3 months

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The Man and His Girls

apart of what do i call you series

summary: steve has worries about becoming a dad .reader and steve find out the gender of their baby.

You were preparing for a big day by relaxing on the couch watching TV and snacking on Cheez-Its. Steve was preparing by putting the crib together, or more like attempting to put the crib together. Steve was doing this five months early to keep his mind off the news they were going to find out today.

After struggling to shorten the list of baby names, the two decided to make an appointment to find out the gender of their baby. The two didn’t want to know the gender at first, a week later they couldn’t wait any longer. Luckily, they didn’t have to wait too long for an appointment that would take a lot of stress off of them.

“Babe!” Steve yelled from their soon-to-be baby’s room.

With a mouth full, you shouted back, “Yeah?”

“Can you come here?”

You put your snack aside, taking a few minutes to stand up with your now five-month belly in the way. Once you finally made it to your feet, you wiped the crumbs off your stomach and walked to where Steve was.

Stopping in the doorway, you took a moment to watch Steve struggle as he tried to put two pieces together that didn’t seem to work.

“Why don’t you just ask Dustin for help,” Steve whipped his head your way not realizing you had arrived, “He’s really good at building stuff, or Eddie whose job it is to build things.”

“I don’t need them gloating about building my baby’s crib when it’s the Dad of the baby’s job to build their stuff.” Steve said solemnly, trying to focus on the pieces again, “All I need is just some help with the instructions.”

“Okay,” You nodded, not wanting to upset him more.

For the past week, Steve has been becoming easily upset when the topic of being a dad has come up. Just yesterday, you both were getting paint samples for the baby’s room when you saw a dad and his young son shopping together. You pointed out their matching overalls to Steve, and he immediately became upset.

You were becoming worried that he no longer wanted to become a father and was going to leave you and your unborn baby. You’ve tried to ask him what’s been upsetting him, but he just blows off the conversation. This time you were finally going to get it out of him.

“Help me down, please?” You stretched your hands out, wiggling your fingers.

Steve pushed aside what he was working on to get to his knees. Grabbing a hold of your hand, Steve slowly helps you sit on the rug-covered floor. Once you were as comfortable as you could get sitting criss-cross, Steve sat back where he was before, handing you the instructions.

Instead of reading the instructions to Steve, you folded the paper up and set it on the floor in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, chuckling.

“Before we get started, I think we need to talk about what’s been going on with you.”

“What do you mean?” Steve feigned confusion, “Nothing's been going on with me.”

“Oh, really?” You crossed your arms, “Then why is it that anytime the topic of dads and becoming a dad comes up, you completely shut down.”

“That’s not- I don’t shut down.” Steve fiddled with the piece of wood in front of him as he tried to avoid eye contact.

Choking up, you finally asked the question that's been on your mind, “Do you not want to be a dad anymore, because it’s a bit late for that.”

“What?” Steve was shocked by the question, “No! No, I mean, yes, I still want to be a dad. Wh-where is this coming from?”

A small sigh of relief left your body, but it was quickly replaced with anger, “What do you mean “where is this coming from”? Like I said, you’ve been shutting down, it seemed like you were always waiting for the right moment to tell me you were leaving.”

By now, tears were rushing down your face and your breathing had quickened.

“No, no, no” Steve crawled the short distance to you and wrapped you in a hug, “I’m not going anywhere. Ever!”

“Then what’s been going on?”

Steve leaned back on his heels, wiping the tears from your face.

“You know how last week we were going to get groceries but you weren’t feeling good so I went alone?” You nodded, squeezing his hand for him to continue, “Well, when I was at the store, I ran into Tommy.”

“Tommy? Your douchebag friend from High School?”

“Not really my friend, but yes, him.” Steve clarified, “Anyway, when he saw me, he just started calling me all these names, and saying what a bad father I’m going to be because I’m not man enough?”

“Man enough? How are you not “man enough”?” You used air quotes to show how ridiculous that phrase is.

“Because… because you make all the money and I stay home to do the cooking and cleaning.”

“What?” You were saddened that Steve thought this way, “I know this isn’t a normal situation we’re in but I thought you were fine with it.”

“I am, I love it!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“He also made the comment that I better have a girl because I’d never be able to raise a man.

Steve never really cared about this before, so you didn’t understand why he did now. You tried your best to comfort him but he seemed like he needed some tough love to get him out of this funk.

You grabbed onto his cheeks, bringing him close, “Steve, who the fuck cares.”

“Huh?” Shocked, Steve pulled back causing you to drop your hands.

“Who the fuck cares if you’re not “man enough” and who the fuck cares what Tommy has to say. He has three kids that he never sees, he’s the one who’s not a man. You’re the one who’s always going to be there to take care of your family because you are man enough to step up and stay home while I get to pursue my dream job. And if we want to be technical about it, just because you aren’t great at building things doesn’t mean you’re any less of a man. Will I be a bad mom because I suck at cooking and won’t be able to teach our daughter how to cook?”

“No!” Steve was now psyched up along with you, “You’re going to be a great mom!”

“And you’re going to be a great dad who’s going to teach our sons and daughters how to be amazing at whatever sports they want to play and cook their favorite meals.”

Sons and daughters?” Steve asked, blowing over the rest of what you just said, “Like six of them?”

“I was thinking more like for of them unless you want to push out the last two.”

“Four it is!” Steve leans over giving you a big kiss.

“Now help me up. We’ve got an appointment to get to.” You once again reached your hands out.

————————-

“Alright, are you two sure you want to know the gender?” The ultrasound tech asked.

“Yes!” Both you and Steve answered excitedly.

“Okay,” She chuckled, turning back to the screen that showed your baby, “Looks like you’re having a girl.”

“A girl!” You cheered, looking over at Steve who had tears in his eyes, “Are you alright?”

“It’s a girl.” Steve gently whispered, not taking his eyes off the monitor.

“Yeah,” You said, in the same soft tone, “Now we can get rid of half the names on the baby name list.”

#stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fem!reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery x fem!reader #joe keery imagine #joe keery

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pascallftv · 4 months

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Girl Next Door— Part 3

Previous Part Series Masterlist

Summary: Joel invites you over for dinner and you watch a scary movie together.

Word count: 2.8k

AN: This had me kicking my feet and twirling my hair BAD

The drive down the road to Joel’s house consisted of your mind rerunning the events over the past few days. You over analyzed each touch, conversation, and even the way Joel looked at you. Consider it delusional, but you had yourself convinced that maybe your infatuation wasn’t one sided. The memory of Joel wrapping around you from behind to show you how to tear down the tiles replayed the most. Surely there was more to that interaction, you had thought to yourself. More so, you considered what your intentions were for the evening. Your plans to watch a movie could be harmless. The truth was you were lonely at the house alone, and you could only imagine how lonesome Joel got living by himself, so watching a movie together would lessen both of your times’ alone. However, there was a voice at the back of your mind laying out the potential to make a move on Joel.

Sure, the idea of being able to finally touch Joel in the way you wanted sounded captivating, but the consequences of your actions could be detrimental to the progress you’d made so far with him, and even ran a hazardous line for he and your father’s friendship. You fantasized about the sheer chance of Joel accepting your advances and everything working out perfectly when breaking the news to your father. It seemed within reach to you, but also so unobtainable at the same time.

After parking your car in Joel’s driveway, you tucked one hand into the pocket of flowy sweatpants, with a tote bag in the other containing a couple of movies that you’d picked out. For being a summer evening, the temperature had cooled off and you were a bit chilly with just a white camisole on your top half. Joel’s porch light was on, illuminating the steps and front door. You were nervous. It felt like the nerves before a first date, although this interaction was far from that. You lifted your knuckle and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened to Joel wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants paired with a black t-shirt. The outfit was very different from his usual attire, but damn did he look good. His muscular biceps and forearms were on display, as well as his tanned complexion.

“Hi.” You said, adjusting the tote bag over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes trailed down to take in your outfit as well. Your thin, yellow sweatpants flowed down your legs, and your tight, white camisole with lace details didn’t leave much to the imagination. The chilly evening air left your nipples erect, the fabric of your top peaked around them. Joel swallowed hard, his eyes falling upon yours before you caught him lingering on your chest for too long.

“Hi.” His gravelly voice responded, stepping aside to let you inside. His house was surprisingly decorated and very cozy. The walls were off white, and the foyer accommodated a beautiful dark green cabinet. The rug beneath your feet was an aged maroon with an extravagant bohemian print. A gold framed mirror was hung on the wall above the green cabinet. Joel’s attention to decorative details shocked you. You slid off your slip on shoes and sat them adjacent to a pair of Joel’s shoes against the wall. The aroma of cooking food wafted into your nostrils, the smell making your mouth water.

“I grilled some marinated chicken. The garlic potatoes are finishin’ up in the oven.” Joel explained, leading the way into his living room that was connected to the kitchen.

“It smells amazing, Joel.” You said, your eyes wandering, still observing the interior of his home.

The living room was just as breathtaking as the foyer. There was another bohemian rug across the dark, polished wood flooring. In front of a flat screen TV was a brown sofa and an aged wooden coffee table that matched the flooring.

“Your house is beautiful.” You spoke as you entered the kitchen. The tantalizing smell of the food was more intense, and you couldn’t wait to try his cooking. Joel looked back at you and smiled.

“Why thank you, darlin’.” He responded, grabbing an oven mitt off the counter, using it to pull the pan of potatoes out of the oven. He placed them on the stovetop next to the chicken breasts that looked grilled to perfection.

“I didn’t take you as a cook.” You said, stepping closer to steal a look at the food Joel prepared.

“It’s always the ones you least expect.” He said, reaching into one of the black cabinets to grab two plates. After dishing out a piece of chicken and some potatoes, Joel handed you one, then grabbed a fork and knife out of a drawer for you.

“I poured you a glass of wine, I wasn’t sure if you drank so I got you a glass of water too.” Joel explained, glancing over at the dining room table. It was a small, dark wood table and chairs with black cushions. The colors of his house felt like home somehow. In the center of the table was a clear vase with yellow flowers. They appeared to be flowers from the field behind your houses. For being such a gruff man, Joel’s house was delicate and cozy.

“I do love wine.” You chimed, following him to take a seat at the table.

You picked up your fork and knife, cutting into your chicken. You popped a piece into your mouth, and nearly melted at how amazing it tasted.

“Joel, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You gushed. Joel looked up at you from his own food, a smile toying at his lips.

“You sure do know how to flatter an old man like me.” He teased, taking a bite of his potatoes.

“I can’t believe no one has tied you down yet. I mean shit, you can cook, you’re an excellent builder and decorator.” You rambled. “Not to mention, you’re very easy on the eyes.”

Joel watched you with wonder in his eyes as you spoke. God, you were everything.

“If you find the answer, be sure to let me know.” Joel conceded, taking another bite of chicken. After he swallowed, he knitted his brows and rested his arms on the table. “You know, I could say the same for you.”

“Is that so?” You raised a brow, sipping on your white wine.

“Well, look at yourself, darlin’.” Joel gestured towards you. “You’re young, beautiful. You’re intelligent. What else could a man want?”

You swallowed hard, running your tongue over your teeth. You couldn’t decipher if he was simply being nice or if there was an underlying reasoning behind his words. You cleared your throat and chuckled softly.

“You’re blowing sunshine up my ass.” You said, poking a potato with your fork and bringing it to your mouth. Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” He insisted. You felt your cheeks flushing. You ate in comfortable silence for a moment, your thoughts running crazy. You felt even more delusional after Joel’s words.

“So I brought over a couple movies. I have the original Halloween and the first Scream.” You changed the subject.

“I haven’t seen Scream in a while.” Joel imputed, taking a swig of his mixed drink that appeared to be a Jack and Coke.

“Then it’s decided.” You winked.

When you both finished eating, you helped Joel pack away the leftover food into Tupperware containers. Even his refrigerator was organized. You helped put your dishes in the dishwasher before you both retired to the living room to put on the movie. You brought your glass of wine with you, placing it on the coffee table. Joel grabbed the movie from you, setting up the movie while you got comfortable on the sofa. After your conversations at dinner, your nerves had practically evaporated. You felt much more comfortable and less like you needed to act a certain way to impress Joel.

You watched his back flex underneath his black t-shirt as he leaned down to put the disc in the DVD player. You longed to run your hands down his back, feeling every curve and muscle of his back.

It was dark outside now, the only light source being a lamp that Joel had turned on. He walked to the couch, reaching behind you to grab a large wool blanket. He sat down beside you, your legs being only a few inches apart. Joel placed the blanket over both of your laps, and grabbed the TV remote off the table to click play on the menu to start the movie.

“This is going to give you nightmares, isn’t it?” Joel spoke, looking over to you. Your legs were curled up into your chest on the couch cushion, you pulling the blanket up over your arms.

“No.” You said with a smirk, looking from him back to the TV. “I’ll probably be scared shitless in that house by myself though.”

“A scary movie was a terrible idea.” Joel sighed, resting his arm over the back of the couch.

The first kill of the movie played across the screen, and Joel startled beside you. You turned to look at him, your mouth parted in surprise.

“Maybe it’s you we need to be worried about.” You teased, reaching over to squeeze his leg. His head snapped over at your touch. You turned back to keep watching the movie, but Joel’s eyes lingered on you. Your touch made him feel crazy. The power of your fingertips was enough to make him melt entirely. His eyes lowered to your plump lips, the shadows from the TV dancing across them. Your gaze was locked on the movie, not even paying attention to how you had Joel caught in a trance.

Strategically, Joel decides to lean forward to take a swig of his drink, coming back down to sit even closer to you. Your thighs were touching under the blanket now, his arm falling behind your head to rest on the back of the couch again. You glanced down to observe your close proximity. Your legs were still tucked up on the couch, so your knees were practically on top of his lap.

You continued to watch the movie, but you weren’t really paying attention. Your eyes followed the images flashing across the screen, but your brain wasn’t comprehending anything. All you could focus on was how good it felt to exchange body heat with Joel. You wanted to cuddle into his side, but you couldn’t find the courage to do so. Little did you know, that’s exactly what Joel longed for you to do. He wasn’t paying attention to the movie either. Likewise, he was fighting every urge to drape his arm across your shoulders instead of the couch.

As the movie progressed, a jumpscare happened, and you jolted and covered your eyes. Without thinking, you leaned into Joel’s side. He looked down at your head pressed into his chest, and he lowered his arm to wrap around you, his hand squeezing your arm gently.

“Holy shit, I even expected it too.” You muttered, leaning your head back just a little to peer up at him. Joel stared back into your eyes, the emotion in them unreadable. Joel reached his free hand up hesitantly, brushing your hair back out of your face. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your eyes flickered back and forth between his eyes, searching for any hint of emotion.

Joel didn’t speak. His thumb was working soft circles on your arm while his other hand lingered in the hair by your face.

“Joel.” You whispered. His eyes flickered to yours.

“Hmm?” He muttered gruffly.

“Kiss me.” You exhaled. Joel stared at you for a moment, his eyes dancing between yours and your lips. He furrowed his brows as he considered.

He was fighting himself mentally. If there were zero consequences, he would’ve kissed you way before this moment, but there were so many obstacles with taking things to that level with you. Would it make things awkward between you? Would you realize he was too old for you? What about your father?

Joel’s hand moved to your jaw, his thumb running gently over the soft tissue of your bottom lip.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Joel asked softly, the pad of his thumb still on your lip. You nodded, your hand reaching up to cup Joel’s face. His complexion was rough and tanned with wisdom, the crow’s feet by his eyes deepening with the perplexed expression on his face. You ran your fingertips over his beard, ghosting them slowly over the gray patches.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” Joel cautioned. You stared up at him, your fingers venturing into the hair by his ear. Your gaze flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.” You assured him, your tone smooth.

Your words were all Joel needed to hear. He leaned down, his lips softly pressing to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, your fingers moving deeper into Joel’s salt and pepper hair. The kiss was sweet, the taste of the white wine on your lips mixing with the savory flavor of the Jack and Coke on Joel’s. Your bodies pressed together, your chests flush against each other. Your gut was swarming with electricity, Joel’s arm dropping to your lower back to press you closer to him. He craved you closer. Your tongue darted to brush against his bottom lip, a gentle whimper leaving his mouth, leaving enough of a gap for you to slip your tongue inside.

Joel’s hand lowered to your ass, pulling you up onto his lap, deepening the kiss further. Joel wound his hand into the back of your hair, his fingertips massaging into your scalp lightly. You placed your hands on either side of Joel’s face. You broke away from his lips, lowering your mouth to his jaw, peppering gentle kisses there, then moving to the rough skin of his neck. He exhaled deeply, leaning his head back into the couch, opening up more skin for you to press kisses to.

In that moment, the both of you knew you were playing with fire. You were at the point of no return. The intense infatuation reigned champion over the moral dilemmas that troubled your subconsciouses. The desire you felt for each other took precedence of any sort of reason about the reality of the situation.

Joel’s hands ran down the warm skin of your back as your lips ventured back to his. Your tongues danced together, Joel’s hips rutting up against yours. You felt him hardened underneath you, and suddenly reality swarmed your thoughts. A kiss was one thing, but the thought of moving further scared you. You wanted nothing more to be intimate with Joel, but it felt too soon. You wanted to take your time with him.

You pulled away from the kiss, resting your forehead against his, your warm breath fanning across his face. He ran his hands from your back to your hips, running them slowly up your sides.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Joel whispered, pulling away to gaze into your eyes. He brought a hand up to brush the pad of his thumb across your cheek. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the supple skin of your cheek, then lowered his mouth to your neck, breathing in your sweet, vanilla scent. You breathily moaned, intertwining your hands behind his head, pushing your breasts together.

“So so pretty, honey.” He murmured, his mouth ghosting over the soft skin of your breasts, his fingertip tracing over the peaking fabric from your nipples. Your brows taught together, your lips parted at his gentle touch.

“J-Joel I want to—” you began, “but it’s too soon.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Joel reassured you, lifting his hands to cup your face, pecking a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m just enjoyin’ tasting you. I don’t want to rush anythin’.”

Your belly fluttered, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You bent down and kissed him again, this time with a little more pressure. You couldn’t verbally tell him how you felt about him, but your kiss told him everything he needed to know.

“Stay tonight.” Joel spoke against your lips. “We don’t have to do anythin’, just want to be with you.”

You nodded emphatically, running your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Okay.” You muttered breathily.

You lifted yourself off his lap and sat back down in your spot next to him, this time cuddling into his side. You couldn’t hold back the smile that overtook your lips.

#din djarin #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #tlou fanfiction #the mandalorian #joel tlou #dbf!joel #joel miller smut

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ellethespaceunicorn · 7 months

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The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter One

Chapter One: Hide and Seek

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: After a curfew is set in place, you and your best friend sneak out past the town border for a drunken game of hide and seek. What could go wrong?

Warnings: drinking, peril, mention of blood

A/N: A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“C’mon, girl. You need to get out of the house for more than just work and the coffee shop. Look, we’ll even stay in town. Just please don’t make me stay in and watch The Great British Bake Off again. Paul Hollywood’s eyes still haunt my dreams.” Your best friend drapes herself against the couch in a dramatic show of boredom.

“Liv, you’re the one that agreed to wine and TV. So, what? You wanna hit the bar now?” You guess, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“Yuck. No way. I was thinking of something much more exciting. But you gotta agree to it before we go. That’s the deal.” She props her head up on her fists, while she lays on her stomach, letting her feet swing in the air back and forth. As innocent as she looks, you knew better.

But then again, you could always go for a little adventure.

And that is how you ended up in a clearing in Claw Creek Forest with Olivia, a heart full of optimism, and a six-pack of Jack Daniels Watermelon Punch. By the time you are halfway done with your second bottle, the sounds of the night are almost calming. Crickets are chirping, owls are hooting, and leaves are rustling in the light wind that tickles your neck.

You’re downing the rest of your drink and looking up into the sky when Liv suddenly stands up with a look that can only mean one thing. She’s got a terrible idea that she thinks is genius.

You decide to stop her before she even starts, “Girl, whatever idea just popped into your head after two wine coolers is not gonna be as brilliant as you think it is. Just say it so I can turn it down.” You twist off the top of your third bottle and look up at the defeated face of your best friend.

“Damn, way to try and spoil all the fun. I just wanted to have a chugging contest.” She sits down on the fallen log next to you and grabs the last bottle from the cardboard pack. She twists off the top and you nudge her with your elbow before winking at her.

You smile at each other before bringing your bottles to your lips. The rush of the bubbly drinks makes you both stop every few sips to breathe and burp a little. But in the end, you finish your bottle first and shoot up off the log to slam down your empty bottle.

The moment you are upright, the blood rushes to your head and you instantly feel ten times more drunk. A few seconds later, you feel like you even out and you can hear Liv’s laughing as she falls backward off the log and her drink goes flying. You crumple to the ground, laughing your ass off, until she pops up over the log with a small scowl on her face.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” She stands up and brushes off her pants before picking up her now empty bottle along with yours. Her little attitude is adorable, but you don’t dare say that. As she walks past you, she doesn’t look at you.

“Olivia, don’t be like that. Come on, girl. We’re having a good time! I don’t want it to end. Please?” You’re not too proud to beg, and she’s not the only one who can pout charmingly.

When she turns around, the first thing she does is look at your pout and scoff, “OK, fine. But I’m only staying if we play a game of hide and seek. It’s spooky season, after all. Well, technically, in my head it’s always spooky season, but you get it.”

“You wanna play hide and seek...in the woods...in the dead of night...drunk?” You hoped there was enough moonlight so that she could see the incredulous look on your face.

Wiggling her eyebrows, Liv bites her bottom lip and says, “All of those things together are so perfect. We’re drunk. It’s nighttime. Spoo-ooky woods all around. Come on, babe, the kid versions of us would be so proud to say we weren’t too scared to play hide and seek as adults with barely any wits about us.” As soon as she finishes speaking, the cutest little hiccup escapes her, and you can’t help but laugh and shake your head.

“Fine! But I’m hiding first. Count to 30 so my drunk ass can find a good spot around here. And don’t cheat, Liv!” You direct her to face a tree and cover her eyes so she cannot sneak a peek at where you are going. You also make her count loudly so that she can barely hear your footsteps crunching over the leaves.

Even drunk, you are surprised you can think of all that. You back up slowly, turning around to run in a full sprint in the opposite direction. When the tree cover blocks out the light of the moon, you slow down and pull out your phone to use the flashlight to light up your way.

You don’t know if you got very far in 30 seconds or if Liv just stopped counting, but you can’t hear her anymore. You turn off your flashlight so she can’t use that to find you. You tip-toe forward in case she has gotten closer to you. You find a tree with large roots above ground and decide to try and hide in the little alcove it is shaped into.

But something catches your eye. At first, you think someone is shining a flashlight or something a bit away from you. But flashlights don’t usually blink, do they? But if you can remember correctly, you’ve seen those glowing yellow eyes before.

And now they were slowly moving toward you. The glow of the moon illuminated dark fur covering pointed ears and a muzzle that only hid its teeth for a moment. As those fangs came into view, a billow of hot breath turned into a smoke cloud in the frigid night air. The sudden huff of the beast made you realize you weren’t moving. You were standing stock-still while an imposing wolf thought about making you into its dinner.

Turning on a dime, you begin to run further into the forest. Not looking where you were going, you didn’t see the pile of rocks in your path. Your right foot slips, and you fall face-first onto the unyielding ground. You grunt as your head connects with a sharp stone. Your head starts to swim as you try to lift yourself to continue running, another huff directly behind you scares you enough to flip over onto your back.

Ringing starts in your ears, and you suddenly feel light-headed. You start to hyperventilate as the wolf comes closer. As tunnel vision closes in, you think you hear it whine softly. The last thing you feel is a wet snout against your temple and then nothingness.

What was once the sensation of cold wetness is replaced by warmth as you start to regain consciousness. You reach a hand up to your forehead and feel a wet cloth being pressed against your temple. When your hand touches what is holding it there, your eyes shoot open, and you try and scuttle away.

A firm hand grips your shoulder, and you find it hard to move. Turning your head slowly, you first look at the hand that holds you down. Thick fingers clutch your joint tightly, and the connected veiny forearm is covered in a smattering of dark chocolate hair. Even under an old woolen sweater, you can see the outline of a sizable bicep. The broad chest breathing heavily under that sweater triggers the onset of hyperventilation until the hand that was holding your shoulder moves away.

When a warm palm touches your jaw, your eyes threaten to close. But when a thumb brushes your cheek, you finally lock eyes with...an angel?

You can’t tell if the dimly lit room you are in is fuzzy or if you have a concussion. But if you were a betting person, your money would be on head trauma. Because there was no way he positioned himself in front of a light to have a slight glow about him. Maybe that just works like that?

Deep cocoa brown curls are about ear-length on his head, but a few unruly strands are hanging above his slightly raised brow. Concerned aquamarine eyes with a touch of brown in the left iris aren’t enough to hide the growing bags under them. A strong nose sits in the center of his face. And a small, yet inviting, mouth is outlined by a dark beard speckled with a few greys here and there.

“...best you lie back down.” The stranger speaks and you only catch the last bit of it because you were looking at his pretty face.

“I...,” You start, your hoarse voice causing you to clear your throat, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, it’s probably best you lie back down. You’ve got quite a lump on your head. If I hadn’t found you when I did, who knows what could have happened?” With one hand grabbing for the warm compress, his other hand guides you back down to lay your head on a soft pillow.

“Found me? Was there a wolf near me? He was huge and he chased after me and then I slipped and hit my head. And where am I? Where are we right now? Who are you? I need to get back to my friend.” Your words exit your mouth hastily as if you are in a rush to get the hell out of...wherever this is.

“Try and stay calm. Yes, I found you not far from the trail. I didn’t see a wolf anywhere, though,” He pauses quickly, but picks right back up where he left off, “Ehm, my name is Walter. Walter Marshall. We’re in my cabin, just outside of Claw Creek. I didn’t see your friend anywhere but, as soon as this swelling goes down a bit, I can take you into town.” Walter speaks clearly and smoothly, his voice is dark yet pacifying, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t enjoy talking.

“I guess I should give you my name,” You rattle off your name, and Walter nods, “I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you, Walter. But considering the circumstances of our meeting, this could have gone a lot differently. Not the way I hoped to end the night.” You laugh, mostly to yourself.

“I should hope not. When I found you, you were still bleeding a bit. I was able to stitch you up and get you cleaned up. But I’d probably go and see a doctor first thing in the morning.” Walter suggests in a strong tone.

“Thank you, Walter. I hate to think what would’ve happened to me had you not shown up when you did.” Your bottom lip quivers as you think the worst.

“Hey. You’re stronger than you think. And the swelling has gone down some. Why don’t we get you back to town where you can get more rest?” Walter pats your shoulder and gets up from the chair he was sitting in.

Your eyes follow him as he moves about the cabin. You realize that you hadn’t looked around before, so focused on him previously. It’s a nice, cozy place. Full of warm, rich colors and various little knickknacks on shelves. It lacks a woman’s touch, so to speak, what with all the antlers and not enough candles to cover the smell of a man. However, it suits the man who lives here.

Grabbing a set of keys, Walter comes back to where you lay on the couch in the center of the room. He gently and slowly helps you up and off the soft furniture and guides you to his truck parked outside. He helps you into the passenger side, shutting the door when you’re seated, and walks around the front to get in the driver’s side. Turning the key in the ignition, the truck rumbles to life and you are on your way home.

You’re rubbing your hands together and shoving them into your coat pockets before Walter gets the hint to turn on the heat. It’s only a couple of minutes before it is warm enough to be comfortable.

The drive down the tree-lined road is mostly silent, save for the low music playing on the radio. Walter points out where he found you and you almost can’t believe you made it that far on foot when you reach the edge of town. But you were drunkenly competitive, so you had your eyes on the prize.

Once you make it to town, you pass a curfew checkpoint and Walter supplies the officer with a story about how you two lost track of time while out of town. You thank him for the cover and direct him to stop at Olivia’s house to make sure she got home safely. Of course, you told him it was your place, and that Liv was your roommate.

As handsome as he was, serial killers come in all shapes and sizes and no way were you giving this man your actual address. You’d apologize to Liv later.

Once he stopped outside of her house, you went to unbuckle yourself and thank Walter for all his help. Protocol for this type of situation eluded you, so when you went for the door handle, you weren’t expecting his voice to stop you.

“Do me a favor and be careful from now on. No more late-night drinking in the forest. It can be a dangerous place." His calm smile brings out the most adorable dimples and you resist the urge to poke them.

“I promise. Scout’s honor. No more drunk forest parties. Thank you again for everything.” You place your hand on his arm and squeeze before exiting the truck and waving as you walk up the pathway to Liv’s house.

The light on the porch turns on and your best friend rushes out and hugs you tightly, bringing you in from the cold as Walter drives off into the night. Once you are in the warmth of her home, she takes your coat and prepares you a cup of tea. She asks who brought you home and you tell her about your ordeal.

When she asked if he was cute, you shouldn’t have been surprised but you still giggled bashfully. She also playfully swats you when you mention that you didn’t get his number. But that’s fine because at least you have his name.

Once she deems you safe enough to be on your own, she drives you the few streets over to your home and has you promise to call her in the morning. You take off your boots at the door, remove your coat, and start to sling it over the back of one of your dining room chairs. As you look closer at your coat, you make a note to take it to the cleaners tomorrow.

You survey the coat for any damage to the fabric and thankfully it just looks a bit dirty. You begin to wipe it with your hand and notice that it’s not all dirt on the coat. You can’t be sure, but if you had to guess what was on the sleeve and collar of the coat, you would say it was dog hair.

Coarse, short dark-colored hairs that when you hold them under a lamp look to be an inky brown. You try and stop yourself from jumping to conclusions, but it is almost impossible not to do that very thing. If these truly were what you thought they were, that means that you didn’t hallucinate that giant wolf. He was there with you, and he didn’t eat you.

You decided to get to the bottom of this. You’d schedule a check-up with your doctor in the morning. And after that, you would go back into the woods.

In search of the wolf? Possibly. In search of the truth? Definitely.

There was only one place to start. At Walter Marshall’s front door.

To be continued...

A/N: Walter is finally in the story!! Yay. I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @milknhonies @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @cardierreh15 @viking-raider @imaslutforcuddles @ilovetaquitosmmmm @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @calwitch @meanlilbean @samahenoyrhye

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

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kiss-me-muchoo · 6 months

Text

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈’𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Joel and Ellie were your little family. Until life made them believe you abandoned them. Now, back in Jackson, seems like they’ll never forgive you. But by Halloween, you’re clean from them. 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬_ Halloween themed, post-season 1 (Jackson era), asshole!Joel, mean!Ellie, sweetie pie!reader, lovers to enemies, angst, our baby reader is basically bullied by Ellie (luv her sorry), since I’m anemic, reader is anemic too (like in my series lol), mentions of poor health in general. 𝐀/𝐍_ in honor of 1989 TV coming, part 1 is clean, if this doesn’t flop, out of the woods is part two.

My Pedrito playlist || index (+ fics here) || bookstagram acc

The doors of Jackson rarely opened, besides when patrol happened. And when they did for another reason, two things usually happened: gossiping and great news.

Well, not always. But for most of the time, that’s how it worked. For Joel, it didn’t matter a lot. Ever since he came back to Jackson with Ellie, he had changed. Well, again, not a lot. He remained serious, reserved, and a man of few words. Except with Ellie, he hadn’t accepted it out loud, but he was some paternal figure to the kid.

And the maternal figure was long gone; You.

A young sweet woman who appeared in Kansas looking for medicines. Who made Ellie happier and safer until she gained Joel’s trust.

And who made him almost fall in love.

Almost, because you decided to abandon Ellie and ignore what Joel pleaded you to do; take Ellie to the Fireflies along Tommy the first time you three came to Jackson.

That night, Ellie cried and yelled at him, but she was beyond angry with you. She called you a liar, weak, selfish, and other hurtful things. Then Joel also let his rage out on you. He said a lot of things, but saying you weren’t brave, and that he should’ve never trusted you…that kept reminiscing in his head occasionally. Maybe he could’ve handled everything better, but that didn’t change anything.

The next morning, when you came to the stable to say goodbye, you left a mess of sobs and tears.

Two words finally shattered you; shameless coward.

And the two ignored something for months till the present; They never gave you the chance to explain what was happening.

When they came back, you were gone. Joel didn’t ask, and neither did Ellie.

They both questioned it, especially the girl.

Joel rarely thought about you. But when he did, he spent hours at it.

Questioning would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

He missed you, but he wasn’t brave enough to admit it. Instant karma, he was a coward who couldn’t admit what he did in that Fireflies hospital, and he couldn’t accept how wrong he acted with you.

He didn’t feel that karma yet.

Until the doors of Jackson opened. And among some group of people, you came in.

Tommy knew everything. He even tried speaking with his older brother that snowy morning. But Joel didn’t want to hear your excuses from the mouth of Tommy.

With a simple glance from him, Joel was left alone as he saw his younger brother walk towards the group of people who had arrived.

Some of the crowd came to greet the new visitors, Joel saw Maria helping you get down off the horse. And he finally was able to see you.

Time hadn’t passed across your face. You remained with a sweet and gentle smile. The very short hair you had now was a shock. Joel had been used to your long braid from every hard day you spent together. He remembered a night where you were cold and he offered to join him in his sleeping bag. You apologized for your braid getting in his way, but he said it was okay.

When did everything go wrong? 10 months and seeing you again made him feel strange.

There wasn’t time to think about Joel or Ellie when you arrived.

To you, their present parade was unknown.

So unknown, that you were in the same town as them once again.

“You didn’t answer our radio signals for months. We were so worried!” It’s the first thing Maria says. You can only smile and shrug.

“I’m really sorry. Jeremy and Lia lost connection in a little fight with infected, and they couldn’t risk anything” A lot had happened. And you felt so empowered from having the guts to leave for so long.

“Oh. God knows everything that happened out there, right?”

“We have a lot to talk about. Where’s Tommy?” You ask smiling. Then you make some minutes to appreciate how much the town had changed over seasons. The trees had turned orange, red and brown. The smell in the main entrance was like cinnamon and caramel apples. And there were a lot of fall decorations. When you turn back, Tommy Miller is there to greet you.

“Right here!” The man appears and you have to greet him with a hug.

“You look great, kid. So, did it work?” There’s a big wave of happiness that invades as soon as he asks.

“Yes, I’m free from it” the marriage sighs relieved.

“Guess it was worth it,” Maria says patting your shoulder.

“Take a rest now. We’ll talk about everything in dinner” you agree with Tommy.

You want to ask if he has heard something from Joel. If he succeeded with Ellie to go with the Fireflies. But you don’t. You’re not ready to hear if he found something. Whether it was a home, happiness, or a lover.

Cause although neither of you ever talked about it. You never confessed your feelings for him. He never showed a sign that he might have loved you back. So no, you were no fool to ask that question to Tommy. Same thing for Ellie. You never revealed you loved her like a sister or even a daughter. You never admitted that for many months. You had acted along with Joel and the girl like a little family.

No, it wasn’t acting. They had genuinely been your family.

But that era was over.

You made your choice. And you still believed you were right. There was only one mistake you made.

Revealing the news to them first and then never being able to share the cause of it. Breaking that little girl’s heart and letting down Joel. It still haunts you.

But the time to go over that was approaching.

…

It wasn’t snowing time yet. But the temperatures were about to drop significantly. Enough for a jacket and sweaters.

There was a pair of heel boots you left in that little house Maria and Tommy offered you before leaving the town.

So, it was time to show off that pair of boots.

The way to the dinner hall was short. Some people greet you and ask how you’re doing now. It feels like rebirthing. Being able to have a second chance in life. But the memory of your little family gone and broken because of you makes you stop that little celebration of life early.

Someone must be doing gravy. Because it smells like Thanksgiving, in the middle of October. Some people are in a little line to get warm punch with cinnamon and fruits. Your mouth waters and a smile appears on your face.

You want to eat and laugh. You are eager to talk to Tommy and Maria.

The first couple with mercy who took the time to listen to you and help you.

An old woman who had been in the kitchen since you arrived for the first time smiles at you and asks you to grab a tray of food.

When you turn to the right to have some food, you are literary punched in the face.

At least that’s how it felt. Because that same night you had to encounter face to face with the two ghosts of your past; Joel and Ellie.

With you being static, they notice you finally.

Ellie shows clear shock, but soon she makes the sign of shock disappear from her face. Deep down, she wanted to hug you, she wanted to tell you everything that happened. But she refuses.

Joel wasn’t ready to see you so close that soon. But he remains stoic as usual.

“Ellie…” you attempt to vocally recognize her.

She firmly holds her tray, empty, and somehow, she still looks angered at you. Which makes you nervous.

And you don’t dare to look at Joel in the eyes, so you avoid it.

“You’re back…” she spits out. And you have some hope that she will be willing to listen to you.

“Yes. I had to go because-” she rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t say I cared, or I wanted to listen” That hurt a little. Ellie could be very tough, and you really had hoped she would try to talk.

“Oh…I-” but she stops you again.

“What? You thought we would be friends again? Let me remind you… YOU abandoned me and Joel!” The lump in your throat gets tighter, but you swallow it firmly.

“Please, I’ve never explained it” you suggest, but Ellie seems too proud and stubborn as usual.

“Oh, save it. We’ve been through enough shit to listen to you too” If Joel wanted, he would’ve scold her, but he didn’t. Which hurt you even more.

The girl leaves her used tray in the dirty dishes and leaves.

You want to drop the tray when you finally eye Joel.

He looks better. Same grey hairs in the same spots. You were so glad to see him healthy, but this wasn’t what you imagined it would be the first re-encounter.

“Joel-” you try to reason with him. He wants to savor the way you gently call him. It makes him remember all the good memories he made with you. All the nights you made him smile, when you annoyed him with Ellie, and the nights were he was able to hold you a little.

But that’s over. You are not a priority anymore. Just Ellie.

“She’s right, though” and just like that, he also left. Without even glancing at you, barely brushing your shoulder with his. It was cold… and it hurt like hell.

The old lady at the counter smiles apologetically at you, and you smile back. She sees some tears rolling down your cheeks but doesn’t say anything.

…

A week passes between awkward exchanges. You are babysitting Tommy and Maria’s baby when Joel arrives to visit his brother. So, you had to leave early.

You started working in the garden, helping to harvest enough for the cold season. So, when kids would join once a week to help, Ellie would ignore you.

And when it was movie night, you were having fun until Ellie arrived with her new friends. Or when you were having a drink in the saloon and Joel had to be there. You catch him staring once in a while and it freaks you out.

You debate whether to write an apology letter or do something for them. Because you feel like you can’t be happy at all when things haven’t gone through makeup with them.

But it all comes down one afternoon.

The council of the town suggested having a Halloween celebration. With a costume party and pumpkin contest. So you needed extra help with the harvest.

Maria had set up some people, including Joel and Ellie. It was a low key moment to have some opportunity to get you three together.

You were digging your hands in the dirt to take out carrots and green onions. There’s a little hat covering your head, and you have to use some tools to work.

Completely ignoring but highly aware of Joel and Tommy talking afar, continuously turning to look at you and then going back to talk.

To be honest, that was the first day when you started getting tired of their mean attitudes toward you. Their mean glances, cold comments and sarcastic hints.

Some people left their baskets beside you so you could later wash the vegetables and take them to the kitchen.

And it was Ellie’s turn.

“Here’s the basket” she coldly says.

“Thanks, leave it here. And be careful, please” She noticed your cold tone attack back, and it surprised her. But also bothers her and makes her grow more stubborn.

“Whatever you say” Maybe Ellie didn’t mean to drop the basket so harshly. But she does, dropping all the vegetables and others from different baskets too.

“ELLIE! I told you to be careful!” A lot of people turn to look at you and the girl.

“I said I was sorry, stop fucking yelling.”

Joel appears beside her. Ready to fuck everything up even more.

“Hey! Don’t yell at her” When Joel raises his voice at you, you freeze.

“She’s a kid. You’re an adult” You know it’s enough when he continued.

“ENOUGH!” Finally, everyone’s attention is on you three again.

“Calm down, y/n” Tommy tries to calm you, but you won’t rest in peace till you yell back at them.

“NO. I’M SICK OF THESE TWO!” Ellie immediately regretted being so stubborn, she remembered you could also be as mean as her.

“How many times do I have to say it? I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t want to abandon you two.”

“And no. I’m not a selfish coward. Because I was diagnosed with anemia, and I was fucking dying. So, choosing to stay to fight for my life wasn’t being coward.” Neither of them expected it.

“I’m done with this psychological punishment or whatever.” You finally take the gardening gloves out, looking so enraged.

“…y/n” Joel calls you, knowing that he can’t startle you more.

“You don’t want me to yell at your bratty kid? Do it your fucking self, Joel” he’s taken aback by the way you push the gloves against his chest, passing past him and sprinting out.

The man sighs, holding the gloves and looking at Tommy, who only shrugs. Knowing that it would end up happening either way.

…

Joel learns a lot of things that night.

You started feeling sick a little before arriving in Jackson. You never tell him or Ellie because you three had already other problems. And by the time you met Maria and spent an afternoon with her, you had fainted in the shower.

The doctor said you were likely suffering from anemia. With the lack of food, strong menstruation, and low blood pressure, you had been carrying with it for months, but as usual, there was a breakpoint.

The doctor suggested you go to another town where you could get iron injections, so you agreed. But that meant having to separate from Ellie and Joel.

Tommy showed him some pictures the doctor took of you to show as references for the other doctors.

You had giant bruises on the back of your legs, with yellow, green, and purple shades.

It cracked Joel. Hearing Tommy say how you cried to him and Maria how you never meant to hurt Ellie or Joel. That you loved them two as your family, finally made Joel’s eyes get crystallized.

You left around early spring, some weeks before he came back with Ellie. And for a long period, as you left with other people of Jackson, nobody had news. Until you appeared looking better.

“I fell in love with her, brother” Joel admitted. Even when forever, he said you were younger, that things would never work out.

“Why didn’t you let her explain?” Joel sighed, drinking a deeper shot of alcohol.

“I was so mad, that she was leaving Ellie behind. I just- Why she didn’t also ever say a thing about being sick? I would have given everything for her.” Tommy smiled sadly.

“That’s why. She didn’t want to worry you. I-… I think she also loved you, Joel” The man closed his eyes and imagined what could’ve been. Maybe you two would be okay if things had happened differently.

“Tell Ellie. Then go with y/n and let everything out. This is your chance, brother. Be happy, love and rest now” Joel nodded slowly.

He had one chance…

…

Jackson looked beautiful decorated with pumpinks and dry leaves everywhere.

The streets are literally empty because everyone must have already been at the party. There’s a gorgeous sunset painting the town, and you can’t wait to walk across the street with sunset.

You know you’re late. As much as you can, you hurry to get out of the house. Maria and your other friends got you a Dorothy costume from The Wizard of Oz. You had another pair of red boots, and everything ended up fitting perfectly. You looked pretty, with your everyday chain in your neck, red lips, and half-braid hairstyle.

At the end of the stairs to your door, Joel and Ellie are there.

“Oh no.” you sigh. Completely calmed, opposite of your outburst in prior weeks.

“Please, just leave me alone now. I’m over this. I won’t take any of you bitching around me” you spit locking the door from outside.

“Look, we didn’t know-“ Ellie starts, but now you interrupt her.

“No, neither of you knew anything. I can tell you both struggled after I stayed here. But I don’t wanna know either, I realized I’m grateful now, even if that meant losing you two” The way you said it, and how you locked your eyes with Joel’s, he knew what you meant.

“Both of you can rest now knowing I’m at peace with my decision. I know what I did, and I’m proud of myself. Both of you were wrong, I’m not weak, I never was” They can choose any words quickly before you leave.

This is not the last shot Joel will give to have you back. He promises it as he watches you walking peacefully across the street.

You don’t look back. You feel some relief, this is a new era. After months drowning in guilt, wondering if you really were that much of an evil woman to abandon them. But now, you know you’re clean from them.

_____________________________

Idk part two or what?

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you

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tbrxnnan · 2 years

Text

enough for you | e.m.

summary: in which you and eddie munson break up. based on the song by olivia rodrigo.

warnings: none really, cheating if you squint, angst, eddie being stupid, unhappy ending (sorry)

word count: 5,076

would y’all want me to do a sour series? like each song correlates with a separate fic? let me know because i’m thinking about it :) mwah

————————————————————————

you don’t know how you ended up in your current situation. you did know, but you didn’t understand how it could happen. your ex-boyfriend of 2 years, eddie munson, was laughing at a comment his new girlfriend made. she was sitting in your spot at the hellfire club table. his hand held hers like it had once held yours, his thumbs rubbing circles on her palm. what was most shocking to you was that his new girlfriend was chrissy cunningham, the head cheerleader at hawkins high. she wasn’t a terrible person, far from it, but you couldn’t help despising her for replacing you in eddie’s heart and life. you were jealous of how eddie was wrapped around her finger, at how she got the treatment you deserved.

it had all started six months ago when he had first done a drug deal with her. you weren’t suspicious or upset at all, you knew eddie would never do anything to hurt your relationship. however, something had happened in a one week time frame from his deal to them being practically joined at the hip. you knew something terrible had happened but he never let you in on what did happen. the entire week while eddie was practically missing and you were beyond worried, afraid he was dead, and then he came back and was suddenly best friends with chrissy. you didn’t say anything because you weren’t the jealous type, you understood that eddie could have friends that were girls and that wasn’t a problem. you didn’t even have an issue with eddie not telling you what had happened.

what you did have an issue with was how eddie started to detach from your relationship, and how fast he did. he started flaking on your after school hangouts because he would take chrissy to your guys’ spot in the woods instead. when he touched you, it was as if he didn’t want to. he stopped calling you at night like he would to say goodnight. he stopped waiting for you by your classes. he would cancel your dates on short notice, so often that you stopped reminding him or getting ready because you knew a cancellation would come. when you would hang out, it was awkward. he stopped complimenting you, which hurt a lot. you missed when he would say how pretty you looked in the morning, how you made the room brighter, how he loved the way you styled your hair, how you looked great in his clothes. the worst part about the compliments stopping was when you brought it up to him.

“eddie, did i do something wrong?” you asked quietly.

you were sitting on the couch in his trailer, your bodies not touching, a horror movie playing on the tv.

“no? why?” he questioned, not even looking at you.

“you stopped complimenting me. you used to do it all the time, like, like how i look good in your shirt or how you like my hair. i don’t know, i just feel like you’re mad at me.” you looked at him, your eyes pleading he look back at you.

“maybe i’m just not the compliment type,” he said nonchalantly.

you knew his answer was absolute bullshit. you had heard him compliment chrissy all the time when she was around. he would compliment her ponytail, how she looked nice in her cheer outfit, how nice her smile was. he would say that when you were right there with him. so when he didn’t even tell you he wasn’t mad at you, rather he wasn’t for compliments, you sat there in shock. the tears welled in your eyes. the lump in your throat made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. your chest was so tight. you wanted him to tell you he loved so badly. you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him to look at you, to really look at you and see how broken you were. you wanted him to want you, to love you.

“i want to go home, eddie,” you spoke as you stood up to grab your things.

he looked at you with confusion, asking you why.

“please drive me home,” a tear rolling down your cheek.

“what just happened? what’s going on?” he pressed.

“you found someone more exciting and now you’re gone. you barely touch me anymore. you haven’t told me you’ve loved me in a week. i’m not enough for you.” you looked at eddie still sitting on the couch.

and then you fought, not a small one, a huge one. he accused you of using chrissy as a scapegoat to dump him. he called you emotional and obsessive. he told you that you’d never be satisfied. you tried explaining that he was treating chrissy like his girlfriend, how he was taking her to your spot, how he stopped caring for you, but it’s like he couldn’t listen. you tried telling him how much you loved him, you loved him with all of your soul. eddie was it for you. you had planned to get out of hawkins together when you graduated. your fight had escalated to yelling, both of you on separate sides of the room.

“you’re being stupid, nothing is going on with chrissy and i! maybe we should just break up.” he yelled at you. you were expecting those words, but god did it hurt a million times more than you thought.

“i’ll just walk home. no need to drive me, don’t want you to feel a burden for driving your ex-girlfriend home.” you said softer. you slipped off the hoodie he had given you months ago, folding it and placing it on the table. he didn’t say anything back. he watched as you were sobbing, your body shaking. he watched you walk out of the door, leaving you to walk home alone as the sun was starting to set. the world was crumbling under your feet with each step. you waited and waited for him to pull up in his van and apologize, to have you get in and he’d drive you home himself. but he never came.

when you got home your body was beyond exhausted. you wanted to throw up as you walked into your room and landed on your bed. you needed sleep desperately, your cheeks soaked and your eyes puffy. when you woke up the next morning you had told your parents you felt ill, you couldn’t go to school. when eddie didn’t show up to pick you up for school, the realization of the breakup really set in. you were a mess. you had packed up all of his belongings in a trash bag, planning on dropping it off at his trailer when you felt ready. and then you missed a second day of school, and a third. it was the third day when robin stopped by your house to check on you. she had heard from steve, who had heard from dustin, that eddie and you had broken up, and she knew you’d need a friend. you had confided in her about your feelings about eddie and chrissy, and now robin was there to pick up the pieces that eddie had broken.

it was hard to go back to school and try to move on. chrissy had taken your spot at the table in the time that you had missed school. the hellfire boys missed you desperately, their hearts aching when you weren’t at school and seeing chrissy where you had sat. they watched you from afar. you stopped wearing your bright and happy clothes to school. you stopped styling your hair like eddie used to love. you became very closed off, very quiet. they watched as the jocks messed with you even more now that you and eddie were done. if the freak didn’t even want you then something terrible must be wrong with you. it didn’t help that jason had lost his girlfriend to eddie. the boys watched as you would sit at nancy and robin’s table, never talking, no matter how many times the girls tried to get you to. they watched as you secluded yourself to the library. they were watching you, while eddie was watching chrissy.

they wanted to bring it up to eddie so badly, to tell him to look at what he did to you. you had been so bubbly once, so happy, and now you were a mess. your grades had slipped and you were so close to not walking the stage in may. mike and dustin had overheard you talking with nancy once, they didn’t mean to walk by and catch the conversation, but they were glad they did. they heard your quiet sobs as you had explained to nancy how the fight had really messed with you. they watched as nancy held you in her arms, hearing you talk about how you missed making him coffee in the mornings, how you couldn’t bear to listen to his favorite songs anymore, how you felt like you weren’t enough. they wanted to smack eddie. how could he just ignore the two years you had dated and throw it all away for a cheerleader who didn’t give him an ounce of attention until she needed some drugs. nancy had reassured you that one day you’ll find someone new, someone that you’ll be everything for, and that eddie will be just a thought in the past. you just had to graduate and you could leave hawkins, leave eddie in the past.

now there was only a month until graduation. you were ready to leave, your room practically fully packed. you had secured a job in michigan, far enough from eddie but close enough to your friends and family to visit. so you sat at the table watching eddie treat chrissy like you should’ve been treated. you were able to save your grades. you were able to start talking at lunch again. the hellfire boys, excluding eddie, were grateful you were starting to get better slowly. you had been hanging out with steve, robin and nancy far more than before. you’d occasionally see dustin, mike and lucas as they were attached to steve, and eddie was never part of the conversation when they were around. they had made a pact that eddie was off limits, you didn’t deserve more pain.

the boys didn’t notice eddie walking up to the table while they were in the middle of a conversation about you, specifically about you moving to michigan. they didn’t notice that chrissy wasn’t attached to him, how he looked upset.

“yeah, she said she got this gig at one of the best book stores in michigan, something about being an assistant to the owner. apparently it’s paying well because she’s so excited to go,” dustin said as he unwrapped his sandwich.

“she’s gonna be moving into a family friend’s guest house and going to community college out there,” he said before taking a bite.

eddie was now sat in his designated chair and interrupted the conversation.

“what girl are we talking about, dustin?” he asked, his face resting on his palm.

the boys looked at him awkwardly, they felt that eddie didn’t deserve to know your business. they looked away from eddie and talked to each other with their facial expressions and eyes. eddie was annoyed, why couldn’t they just say her name, it’s not like it would be a big deal. he watched as dustin stuttered out your name, not being able to look eddie in the eyes. before eddie could respond, dustin changed the conversation and asked where chrissy was.

“oh, um, we aren’t seeing each other anymore.” he replied quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

the boys all gave (fake) sympathetic sorries before switching to a totally different conversation, leaving eddie to keep himself company. it was then when eddie looked at you, truly looked at you, for the first time in months. he slightly frowned seeing you with your head down in a book as nancy and robin conversed. your hair was in a plain ponytail and you were wearing plain clothes, not your usual designs or colors. he was also confused why you wouldn’t be attending berkley in the fall, that was your dream school and he swore he heard you had gotten in. what he didn’t know was that you had declined berkeley at the height of your grades mishap and heartbreak. nancy caught eddie staring at you and gave him a nasty stare, eddie quickly looking away. his cheeks turned red and he wasn’t interested in the food sat in front of him anymore.

he wasn’t even heartbroken over the break up with chrissy. they had both realized that bonding over shared trauma was a terrible way to start a relationship and they weren’t really compatible. she didn’t quite enjoy his hobbies and interests (like you had) and he didn’t really vibe with the popular lifestyle. she wasn’t interested in dungeons and dragons like you were and she didn’t really want to go to the hellfire sessions. he didn’t go to any parties with chrissy and he never went to the games to watch her cheer. they just didn’t work well. sure he was upset that he was single, but he wasn’t heartbroken over losing chrissy. the weeks leading up to graduation came by faster than eddie had thought. he was walking down the stage as his name was called, grabbing his diploma and spotting his uncle in the crowd. it took him three times, but he finally graduated. he had spotted you in the crowd. you weren’t looking at him walk the state, of course you wouldn’t. he wanted to talk to you after the ceremony was over. he wanted to see how you were doing but he didn’t want to ruin your special day. you worked so hard and you deserved to celebrate. he did hear from dustin that you’d be leaving in a week. he had one week to talk to you before you were gone.

the week went by painfully slow. he kept thinking about what he would say to you. he still hadn’t unpacked the trash bag of his belongings you ding dong ditched at his door. he thought a lot about you two during that week. he thought about how you two had been best friends before you started dating. he took you under his wing for hellfire and watched you blossom. he failed his senior year the first time to stay back with you another year, though he never told you that.

he thought about your first kiss at the spot in the woods.

you two had been sitting at the bench at your secret spot in the woods. you were absentmindedly reading the first lord of the rings book while eddie was smoking a joint. he was watching you with adoration, he was a goner. he swore he was in love with you and that you were destined to be together. it was a pretty day for hawkins. the sun was shining, it wasn’t too cold and the breeze was comforting. eddie had cleared his throat to get your attention, his heart soaring when you placed your bookmark on the page and looked up at him with a smile.

“i love you,” he grinned.

“i know, eds. i love you too,” you said softly, placing your hand on your book. he furrowed his eyebrows.

“no, like i’m in love with you. like when i pick you up in the mornings i love seeing your smile. i love when we hangout, even if we’re both silent like right now, because i get to be around you and for the time being it makes this town a little less shitty. i love how you giggle during hellfire. like, you’re it for me. i love you,” he said softly as he inches closer to you.

you two were facing each other and your heart was beating so fast. you had been crushing on eddie since you first spotted him in the cafeteria on your first day. you thought he was the most beautiful boy at school and it made your stomach flip when he smiled at you. the more you spent time with eddie, the more you had fallen for him, and here he is devoting his love to you.

“oh, eddie,” you said softly and looked into his eyes. he looked incredibly nervous; he was waiting for the inevitable turn down.

“when i saw you in the cafeteria on my first day i was a goner. you really love me?” you blushed, running your fingers over his.

“i do, really. you don’t have to say it back but i just needed you to know,” he replied as he played with your fingers.

he was pleasantly surprised when your lips were on his, your hands cupping his cheeks. your lips were so soft. he could taste your honey and vanilla chapstick. his hands found your waste and pulled you closer, as if that was even possible. all of your worries melted, it was just the two of you against the world. he tasted like weed but you didn’t mind. your hands found his way into his hair, lightly tugging. you pulled away when you needed a breather, noticing how eddie’s pink lips were swollen. he was breathing hard, his cheeks red and his eyes soft on yours. you knew you looked like the same blushing mess as him and you giggled.

“i love you, eds. you’re it for me,” you whispered before pulling him in for a kiss again.

he thought about how when you’d sleepover, you’d let him sleep in when you’d wake up. you’d make coffee for the both of you, his in the garfield mug and yours in a plain mug. he had a very serious and tough image but he was a softy with you, hence the garfield mug. he thought about how you loved his favorite songs. he thought about your dates at the drive in. he thought about your smile, how you used to style your hair, how you looked in his clothes. he thought about how you’d be at every corroded coffin show. the crowd was very small but you’d always be there, sticking out like a sore thumb in your bright clothes compared to everyone else. he was so grateful for you to show up to every show, supporting his dreams and all.

he thought about when you asked him to come to california with him.

you both had been laying on his bed, you on your stomach with a book in your hands and eddie on his back, running his fingers up and down your spine as music played in the background. you had been wanting to ask eddie for so long to join you in california, but you were afraid he’d say no. he had his band to think about and you didn’t want to be selfish asking him to put you first. you did still have a year and half until you’d be heading to california (hopefully). your counselor told you that you’d totally be getting into berkley if you kept your grades and extracurriculars as you had so far. eddie could tell you weren’t reading anymore, your eyes on the same page they’d been for a few minutes.

“everything okay, princess?” he said softly, rubbing circles on your back.

“can i ask you something?” you asked shyly, sitting up so your body faced eddie’s.

“of course, you can ask me anything,” he looked at you, nerves running through his body.

“you don’t have to answer right now or say yes, i just- um. i don’t know why this is so hard to ask,” you sigh and put your face in your hands. you were so scared of rejection.

“will you move to california with me when we graduate?” you couldn’t look at him, your cheeks heating up.

eddie’s heart leaped in his chest. his soulmate asked him to move with her when they finish at hawkins and he couldn’t be more thrilled. he pulled your body into his, making you yelp. he chuckled and watched as you huffed and rolled your eyes. he took your hand in his.

“sweetheart, look at me,” he fake pouted.

“i want nothing more than to go with you to california when we graduate,” he smiled.

“but your band and your dreams… i don’t want to stop you from accomplishing all of it. your music is great and you deserve to shine,” you whispered, your eyes meeting his. you continued to play with his fingers.

“baby, you will always come first. you don’t need to worry about that. i can’t wait to get out of this shitty town with you. we’ll get a cute little place and a cat like you’ve always wanted and i can still play my music. you’ll go to berkeley and i’ll be there supporting you every step of the way. i promise.” you were practically crying at this point.

“hey, don’t go soft on me now,” he laughed softly, caressing your cheeks.

you mumbled a small sorry and were met with a soft kiss. eddie’s lips molded with yours perfectly. you could kiss eddie forever if you didn’t need to breathe. you loved that he tasted faintly of nicotine and weed. you loved how gentle his kisses were. you felt so loved with eddie.

he thought about the fight that led to the break up. if he could rewind time and take it all back he would. he would’ve told you about what happened in that week he and chrissy had gotten close. he would’ve told you that he did love you, that you were it for him. he wouldn’t have let you walk home by yourself that night. he would’ve done everything to get you back and he hated himself for not realizing sooner.

truthfully, it took chrissy telling him they weren’t compatible for him to realize how badly he fucked up. he realized that you weren’t wrong when you pointed out how he complimented chrissy and not you, how he had cancelled everything with you to be with chrissy, taking chrissy to your spot, and how he detached himself from you. you were right that he had stopped touching you, kissing you and telling you he loved you. he knew all the death stares from nancy and robin were deserved, that the boys being awkward around him was because of how shitty he was being, that when steve told him if he ever came back into family video he’d leave with two black eyes and a busted lip that it was deserved.

he waited until the day you were leaving to go talk to you. maybe if he pleaded for you to stay that you wouldn’t go. maybe then he’d get to kiss you again, he really missed how your lips tasted like honey and vanilla. maybe if he told you he was still in love with you that you’d come back to him. maybe he’d get to go to michigan with you, or maybe he’d convince you to run to california with him like you talked about before. maybe.

you were closing your car’s trunk when you heard eddie clear his throat. your heart felt heavy and you were already emotional from saying goodbye to everyone. it took everything in you to turn around and face him. when you turned, you wanted to disappear. he was looking at you, really looking at you, for the first time in so long. you had stared at him infinite times during the time you’d been broken up and he never returned a look, but today he did. he was wearing his usual reebok’s, ripped jeans, black sabbath shirt and denim vest outfit. his hair had gotten a little longer. his brown eyes were staring straight into yours. you hated to admit how beautiful he still was. your heart was racing and the silence was awkward.

“hi,” he breathed.

“hi,” you said softly.

“please don’t go,” he took a step closer to you.

“you don’t get to say that to me. not after everything.” you said harshly, and he deserved it.

“if i could take it all back, i would. i swear. i wanted to come talk to you sooner, but i- i didn’t know what to say, what i could say to make this all better.” he rambled.

“you can’t make it better, eddie. please don’t try. please let me leave without my heart breaking again.” you croaked. you could feel the tears threatening to spill. what a fucking joke this was, him thinking he could apologize.

“i’m sorry, i really am. you gotta believe me, sweetheart,” he pleaded. the pet name made you flinch. you hadn’t been called so in months, it was so unfamiliar.

“i was an asshole. i shouldn’t have detached like that. i shouldn’t have let you walk home alone crying. i shouldn’t have treated her like i should’ve treated you. i miss you, i really do. i miss the smell of your coffee in the morning. i miss seeing you at the bar for our shows. i miss our movie nights. i miss laying in bed with you while we listen to tapes. i miss watching you read on my bed.”

your heart was nearly going to explode. you felt angry, betrayed, hurt and annoyed. how dare he waltz back and try to beg for you after all that time, after everything he put you through? you were sobbing at this point. he tried to wrap his arms around you and was not shocked when you pushed him away.

“don’t touch me.” the irony. you wanted him to touch you for so long and now that he wanted to, you couldn’t let him.

“don’t you think i loved you too much to be used and discarded? don’t you think i loved you too much to think i deserve nothing? but don't tell me you're sorry, feel sorry for yourself because someday i’ll be everything to somebody else. they'll think that i am so exciting. and you'll be the one who's crying.” you mustered up the courage to defend yourself.

“you didn’t stop me when i told you i wasn’t enough for you. you left me crying and made me think that i did something wrong. you— you broke me. robin had to pick me up piece by piece. you left me for the girl you knew i was insecure about how i couldn’t be as great as.” you scoffed.

“and now you want to come back after seven fucking months? and what, expect me to fall back into your arms? am i that much of a joke to you?” you saw he was crying himself and you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt or pity.

“all i ever wanted was to be enough for you… you were it for me eddie. we were supposed to go to california together. this is all on you.” you jabbed your finger into his chest. “i hope you feel as much pain that i did. i hope you feel like a failure. i hope you feel like the world is crumbling under you. you don’t get to discard me and get me back because chrissy dumped you.” your voice was strong.

“the freak didn’t even want me, i must’ve been a huge fucking loser, right? that’s what the basketball team said. but you didn’t have an ounce of dignity to defend me. no. no, you let chrissy replace me.” your voice starting to raise.

he didn’t even try to defend himself, he deserved everything you were saying. he knew you were right. he didn’t defend you when the basketball team made comments about you. he just left you to fend for yourself. he let chrissy take your place at the table, in the woods, in his life. he can’t tell you why he did what he did. he can’t defend his actions. his chest was so heavy, his cheeks wet with tears. he saw how angry and hurt you were. he wasn’t lying when he said he would take it all back if he could. he’d give anything to see you at another corroded coffin show cheering him on. he’d give anything to be on his couch, your legs on his as you watch horror movies. he’d give anything to have another hellfire session with you at his side. he’d give anything to make you love him again.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he repeated like a broken record.

“save your sorries because i don’t want them.” you wipe your cheeks. “i hate you, i really do.” you nearly whispered.

you turned on your heels and walked to the driver’s side door. you heard eddie’s footsteps retreat out of your driveway. you refused to look at him as you started your car and backed out, ready to drive to michigan for your fresh start. eddie watched you with blurry eyes. he hated himself for what he did. he hated that you hated him. he watched as your car started to go down the street, seeing how you didn’t look back to see him one final time. he couldn’t stop crying and was sure he looked pathetic. pathetic because he was standing in the driveway of his ex girlfriend who he screwed over big time, watching her leave to start over and have a life that could blossom without him holding her down.

you passed the “leaving hawkins” sign and felt relief. you had a ways to go until you got to michigan but at least you were out of the town that was suffocating you. of course you’d keep in touch with your friends and family, they were also told they could come to you whenever they wanted, an offer they very much would be taking up. you had stopped crying, your cheeks were puffy. you told yourself that eddie munson doesn’t get to break you anymore. you told him off, picked yourself up and made the decision to put you first. eddie munson was a fool for what he did to you, you vowed to waste no more tears on him. he didn’t deserve your tears. he didn’t deserve to have you in his arms again. he didn’t deserve to hold you down anymore. he didn’t deserve your love, your care, your smiles.. he didn’t deserve you.

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