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cherry-titz · 5 months

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HI GUYS @cherryjuiceblues here ! oof, this took me longer than i anticipated to finish, and for that i am sorry, friends! this is my installment to mine and @1800titz first collab :D if you haven't already read part one, written by titz herself, then you can do so here !!

some warnings before you read! following on from part one, this is dark harry. some very dark themes going on. and once again, as miss titz previously stated, harry is simply a faceclaim here. there is absolutely no intention to associate the real harry with this fictitious one !!

content warnings include: dom/sub themes, exhibitionism, light spanking/impact play, choking, name-calling, degradation, praise, threats of intending to cause harm (hitchhikerry is not a good man at all). generally, he's a bit meaner in this one!

word count is just under 11k (both of us had aimed to write a short and snappy 6-7k each but here we are LMAO) !! ENJOY :D

This bathroom is filthy. The slanted mirror swirls a little, in a thick, hypnotic puddle, as Y/N stares at the smeared reflection before her.

A new low, perhaps—this night, for Y/N (only competing with one other evening that springs to mind). In an unloved bar, in a dingy bathroom, fingers digging into grimy porcelain that no amount of suds from the muddy bar of soap could clean. (And, really—whose idea was it to have bars of soap in a public place?) Clenching digits in an attempt to wake up some from the wave of paranoia that skittered across her skin in the public eye of the bar.

Y/N swears her pupils fluctuate as she grounds herself in them. Recollects herself in this pigsty of an establishment. Forces some of the alcohol to evaporate off of her in waves as she sobers up to the thought of piss-stained tiles and sticky toilet seats.

Y/N doesn’t drink alone.

But she didn’t do hitchhikers either and look where that got her.

In a shithole—that’s where. In a shithole, on her lonesome, on a Monday night of all nights. Argued to be the worst day of the week to wake up, go to school, work—and most relevantly—get drunk. But she’d considered it important to force herself out—to maintain control over her actions whether they be sensible or not. It was rather unimportant to Y/N what day of the week it was. They’d sort of all merged into one since receiving the phone call—every day reduced to the same thoughts tick, tick, ticking inside of her head. Hours spent ping-ponging back and forth over every moment in which her life could have ended inside of that car.

She’d tried since; to phone him back. Each time met with the denying wall of a payphone. Y/N almost grew comforted by that failure—that safety of knowing no one would ever answer—until rationality kicked in and she blocked the number. A small, tiny ounce of power to hold.

And there’s a part of her, still, that doesn’t quite believe it. That surely friendly Harry—adorned in his soft sweatshirt, with his dimpled cheeks and yellow nails—could have only been laughing with his friends, all huddled around his phone that blasted on speaker, at the successful spooking of an unassuming girl. Despite the fact of all the evidence stacking up against him—that she’d heard only his breaths, only his voice, and the undeniable dead of night surrounding him. She needn’t even ponder over the possibility to accept it—lone stranger on the side of the road, in the dead of night, sleeping at a motel, so eager to manhandle and encourage Y/N’s struggle—

The door clatters, and then a body pushes it open, the heavy wood resisting some and disguising Y/N’s flinch at the sudden intrusion. She clears her throat, turning the tap on and pretending to wash her hands as she meets the eyes of a woman in the mirror, a small weak smile upturning Y/N’s lips, before she disappears inside a cubicle.

She’s retraced every single moment of that night. Looking back with shame and humiliation. Because (and it’s pointless to waste even a second on it now but) how silly—how stupid—does someone have to be; how lacking in common sense or respect for one’s self, to pick up a stranger on the side of the road. Harry was right to scold her over the phone, no matter the irony of it all. She might as well have served herself up on a platter for him to take. So easy, he’d said.

So easy it hadn’t been fun, is all Y/N can assume.

The broken seal of the door reminds her of the outside world, shaking her head—an attempt to rattle her thoughts into submission, to collect herself and focus on the surface level image of her reflection. To remember the facts. That she looks pretty. Pretty and put-together—and ready to drown more of her sorrows in another cocktail mixed with her chosen spirit.

It’s as quiet as it was before Y/N slipped into the bathroom, a handful of lonely men scattered on opposite ends of the bar—the occasional group huddled around a table—or a couple sprawled against a sofa. The wall-mounted television has been switched on, subtitles an obnoxious fluorescent yellow as the news captures the attention of few desolate drinkers. Y/N doesn’t notice the extra body occupying a high-top table nearest to the bar, her back turned towards them, as she makes herself (comfortable would be an exaggeration) settled once again on a rickety, wooden stool.

She doesn’t notice. Not until she orders a Cosmopolitan and twists her clutch onto her lap, opening the zipper’s teeth, fingers pinching the familiar edge of her card just enough for it to peek past the confines, and is hastily denied by the bartender. He shakes his head, hands busy as he mixes her drink, nodding in some direction behind her as he says, “Gentleman over there paid for it.”

And that… that can’t be right. Gentle and man are two respected words in their own right but together? Y/N’s spine straightens and her muscles tighten. There’s no way she could know, but somehow she does—shutting her eyes, expelling a breath in preparation—as she twists around on her stool to see the man who she invited into her sedan all those days ago. There was nothing gentle about that night.

Or so she found out.

And he looks… the same. Of course he does.

Same chocolate-swirled curls brushing against the unperturbed smoothness of his forehead. Same strong line of his nose, same hard clench of his jaw dusted in scruff that she’d let him brush against her face as they’d kissed. Same plush lips that purse around the rim of a tumbler, cheekbones sharp as he tips his head back enough to allow the cool liquid to slick down his throat. Same rough, sinewy fingers—the subdued yellow of his nails (so far along the spectrum from the blinding fluorescence of the television subtitles) now chipped in a way that suggests it’s fashionable as opposed to scruffy.

All the same features and yet Y/N can’t help but picture them in a new, scathing light—those soft tendrils matted with thick, dark blood, splatters dripping down his temple and beading at his chin. Blush-tinted lips curled up in a sinister, satisfied smile—chilling enough to slow the blood in Y/N’s veins—and those hands; his fingers that had previously delivered so much pleasure, wrapping around the handle of a sharpened blade with the intent to inflict more than she could have bargained for—no sunshine yellow in sight.

And the morbid image is hardly helped by the baggy garments that swallow his limbs, grey sweats and black hoodie selling one of two different visuals. Either that of a cosy boyfriend or a looming presence on a dimly lit street, late at night. Y/N’s brain opts for the latter.

Harry meets Y/N’s gaze with confidence—if he is surprised, or displeased, or worried by her presence then it shows none on his face. She watches the tick of his throat as he swallows the remainder of what looks like whiskey, before carelessly sliding the glass across the table in which he is slouching away from with arrogance, to meet its other empty friend as they clink together. His posture suggests complete ease—the sort of position you would take on a deep-set sofa—an ankle slung across a knee, an elbow propped behind you. Perhaps the type of arrogance only the person who had admitted their desire to murder you could have.

She blinks at him, unable to startle back around in fear. Not in order to preserve any sort of upper hand—but from a complete lack of said immediate panic; that fight or flight response. She blinks as she sees the screen of her phone behind her eyelids; as she sees every unanswered call she dialled to that payphone. The ringing in her ear as she waited, and waited, and waited.

The reminiscence, the amusement in his tone—that switched as though controlled by one—to disappointment and disdain, to deliver a warning with such severity that only left Y/N with more questions. Why wait an entire week to call? Why tell her about his intention? How many times had he killed before? Why didn’t he kill her?

“—Police have found what they believe to be the body of twenty-five-year-old Ruby Wilcox…” Y/N doesn’t know why this specific statement is deemed salient enough to shove it’s way past all the other droning noise and embed itself deep within her head—but it is. As though Ruby Wilcox is her own name, Y/N feels a pit of dread churning around inside of her stomach, twisting and turning in a true derivation of discomfort, as she peers around to acknowledge that she’s heard correctly, skimming the subtitles with grave trepidation. The journalist goes on, “...reported missing six days ago…” but Y/N already feels as though she’s heard the story.

She turns back towards Harry, unsure as to why it feels necessary to do so—the moment their eyes met the first time, she should have bolted. Harry’s already looking at her, as though his eyes have never trailed away, and it’s telling—the quirk of his lips. The way his tongue darts out to wet them and he can’t contain the small bracket that they form into.

His left eye flutters closed in a wink as new droning voices of monotonous news presenters burrow deeper and deeper into Y/N’s skin. The fear is undeniable. It aches deep inside the marrow of her bones; a lingering, languishing throbbing that can only be attributed to embedded dread. But if Y/N can’t deny that she hasn’t run for the hills then she also can’t deny the way the fear dances atop her skin like little bolts of lightning. Displacing the panic with a desperate flush of rage—a desire for violence to be met with violence—in a less than chaste way.

The danger—it… excites her, it challenges her. To know why, and how, to learn the extent of what spared her life. To take more. It feels reckless; almost demanding of death. It feels belittling, and demeaning, and like everything every girl is ever taught not to do. Could Y/N really justify endangering her life for the perversity of something as insignificant as body-slumping sex? Could she ever look herself in the eye again?

…Did it matter?

It doesn’t seem to when Harry suddenly stretches his arms out above his head, cracking the bones from his strenuous period of sitting down, and pushes himself up from the creaking, groaning chair. It seems as though the decision is made for Y/N when she bolts to follow him without a second thought. Or she bolts in her mind—her body delivers a much more convincing performance of nonchalance—seemingly casual as she sifts through her clutch in a faux check of inventory.

And then, when Harry’s broad back faces her for long enough, weaving his way towards the steel door of the back entrance—that’s when Y/N jumps down from her stool, downs the entirety of her drink and relishes in the warmth that blossoms in her chest, and leaves the bar.

The heavy door screams on its hinges, slamming shut with a reverberating bang. Y/N peers left down the alleyway, dim light from a distant streetlamp casting shadows across gravel—

“Sneaky little thing.”

Y/N startles, whipping around to see her stranger (surprised but not understandably by logic) as he mutters, “No self-preservation.” Effortlessly cool, leaning against the exterior of the bar—rough brick undoubtedly frigid and scratchy. His jaw works incessantly, clearly nursing a flavour of gum that he can only just have popped into his mouth—and disgust gurgles in Y/N’s stomach at the sight of his demeanour—unsettling yet titillating, all the same.

“Y’following me?” he pushes forward off of the wall, height suddenly looming as his lip curls into a simper much less pleasant than that of the man she’d met last week. Though it fails to feel threatening, her mouth still runs dry, now faced with the opportunity to say… anything—to ask, demand, accuse to her heart’s content—but she… she can’t, too inundated by the possibilities as her brain splutters and jolts like an empty engine.

When Y/N doesn’t answer, Harry’s mouth crooks up, pulling back to reveal a deceptively pretty smile—before he purses his lips to blow a cool stream of breath directly into Y/N’s face. Her nose crinkles as the conspicuous scent of peppermint forces its way, no doubt into her brain—to associate peppermint with him for the rest of her life—may it be long or considerably shorter after tonight. “Minty fresh,” Harry smiles around a chew, impishly delighted by Y/N’s scowl. “Wha’s the matter? Don’t like peppermint?”

Sure—yes, sure, she likes peppermint but what level of absurdity— A humourless bark of a laugh fizzles between them, Y/N unable and unwilling to ignore the fatuity of the situation. Y/N could say so much, but it seems she chooses, “I prefer bubblegum,” clearing her throat to ignore the waver in her voice.

Harry nods earnestly—as though her taste in confectionery holds the same gravity as that of an embarrassing truth or a confession of crisis—jaw flexing on its hinges, “Mm, makes sense. Little—” his arm reaches out, finger uncurling to brush a knuckle against a loose strand of her hair, “bubblegum princess,” and Y/N wonders if he might be a little insane, body tight as the distance between them lessens. Distance that could only be described as valuable in such a situation, with such a person.

It strikes Y/N now, the difference in his temperament—gone is the charm of a man brimming with polite conversation to show his gratitude towards her—in his place stands the one who spewed filth inside the confines of her sedan. Shameless, smug, awash with a handful of complexes, she’s now sure.

Despite the blast of fresh air and biting peppermint encouraging sobriety, dregs of intoxication still prevalently linger in Y/N’s bloodstream. That boost of liquid courage she needs to say what she does, to be reminded of that vehement anger, and to ignore the pounding of her heart—the way it begs and pleads with her to go back inside—as her foot takes her a step forward. Her voice drops to a whisper as she tilts her head up, now intimately close, “Do you still think my eyes are pretty?”

And Harry laughs—the sound forced from his lungs as he fails to conceal amusement. “Christ, no shame…” he pauses, eyes darting back and forth between Y/N’s falsely confident ones, “‘f course I do, I meant everything I said... Everything.”

It’s those words that drive home the reality of the situation; a clear confession, a clear joy to remember—“I was going to kill you that night. Thought about draining the life from those pretty eyes the second you rolled your window down.”

Y/N’s tether to sanity unravels, hanging on by a mere thread as she throws her hands in front of her wildly. “I let you inside my fucking car!” The fury finally weaponised, despite the whiny defiance of her tone, that is only further fuelled by Harry’s wry smile, growing and growing. It sets something alight in Y/N; the defeating realisation of a true psychopath before her. Nothing she could say would allow sympathy to seep into his bones.

Not that she demanded sympathy. What good would an apology do? An apology for what… scaring her? Disturbing her so deeply to her core that life felt bathed—drowned—in danger? The only real, tangible thing Harry had done to her was have sex with her and that— That was nothing to apologise for, no matter the embarrassment to admit as such.

So why… bother… Why bother to fight when he smells so inviting and the warmth of his body yearns to take the chill off of hers?

Harry dips down—peppermint again, mixed with the same pleasant cologne from the night he tainted her backseats, that had blotted itself in her memory unknowingly—eyes boring into her own. “You did more than that, pet,” an effort to get the words out without scoffing, “You let me fuck you inside your car. Begged me—”

She shoves demurely at his chest, coils of heat tightening at the memory, causing only the slightest of stumbles as Harry grips her hand to his chest and tugs her with him “—pleaded me—for it, in fact.” His breath fans across her face; close enough to still be warm and pebble her cheeks with goosebumps. Her lashes flutter innocuously—the perfect picture of doe-eyed and yet she has no intention behind it.

Y/N’s face is warm with the alcohol coursing underneath her skin and the tingling of Harry’s air dusted across it, that jacket of heat the only thing bracing her against the whipping breeze against her bare legs. Naturally, if it wasn’t for the existence of Harry, Y/N would feel perfectly content right now. Tipsy but not detrimentally so—surfing along the wave of intoxication with only an occasional plunge beneath the bracing waters. She feels good like this, most of the time. She feels confident, and sexy, and free of all of life’s burdens.

But now one of life’s more recent burdens is standing in front of her, simmering smile surely on the verge of snapping. Y/N wonders what she might do in order to make that happen—so be it, if that puts herself at risk. There's no such thing as risk when you’re a drink or two down. The anger feels subdued, the fear feels subdued—something in the back of her mind convincing Y/N of some faux sense of safety—however real or fake it may be.

“Didn’t you?” Harry nudges, sly fingertips catching her off guard as they tap sequentially against the curve of her waist, gently—subtly—manoeuvring Y/N’s body to rest against the harsh stone. She hardly realises she’s moving, too honed in on the whispering taunt of Harry’s voice.

Yes. She did.

But she doesn’t care to focus on that anymore—she doesn’t care to play the regretful part. Y/N has moved onto bigger and better things. She tilts her chin up, defiant in nature, as her tone takes on that of a snarky assertion, “How—how were you g’na do it? Tell me.”

It doesn’t seem as though Harry needs a reminder; he knows what she’s referring to. He knows and he shows zero interest in humouring it—her perverse request. Tapping fingers trail their way up, up, up until they’re cradling her collarbones, vast palm spread out across her chest.

He plays gentle, unknowing, as he shushes her, “It doesn’t matter…” he murmurs, hand slipping higher still until his long fingers can curl and wrap around her throat, the first indication of the whiskey having its desired effect clear when his eyelids flutter and syllables threaten to merge.

He doesn’t squeeze and it’s disturbingly unforeseen—the hold in which he keeps her in without pressure. But it’s not enough, and Y/N’s not satisfied with such an answer. No matter the desperation to surge forward and kiss him messily, or the eagerness to find out whether he’ll explore her mouth again or degrade her for his pleasure, Y/N doesn’t budge.

“Tell me,” she insists, voice teetering on the edge of too loud in the soulless alleyway. Her fist comes up in a weak thud against his chest, unable to display any other sort of physicality. “How were you gonna kill me, Harry—?” Her breath catches as he digs his fingers into the side of her throat—finally satisfied to see the edge of that smirk wiped off of his face. Piercing green holds her in place, sneer dominating her vision.

“Shut up—”

“When you were cumming inside me—?”

“—Shut the fuck up.”

Y/N wheezes when he squeezes even harder, mouth dropping open in a masochistic smile—eyes half-lidded as the blood fights its way to her brain. The warmth of Harry’s palm against the column of her neck presses just as hard, taunting and tormenting her airways—daring her to breathe.

“What—did you—” a second of respite in which he loosens his grip, as Y/N inhales as much as her little lungs can take, “do to that—woman?”

He scoffs at her—almost annoyed that she would care enough to ask—that he even has to waste his energy thinking about it. “I didn’t fuck her if that’s what you’re worried about,” serrated ice in his tone, freezing over when he spits out, “sweetheart.” No attempt at denial, no reassurance of his innocence—just. I didn’t fuck her.

It comes barrelling out; the provocation, “Had to get your fix somewhere else, then,” Y/N accuses, swallowing underneath the weight of his hand. “Didn’t kill me so you had to hurt poor Ruby Wilcox, didn’t you?”

“—Don’t play detective, pet,” he expertly deflects, squeezing harder—disguising any sort of discomfort with the quirk of his lips, “it doesn’t suit you. Much preferred it when you were dumb around my fingers, barking f’me like a good girl. D’you remember that?”

Very well. Too well. Even still after learning the truth, Y/N had remembered it in great detail. “Why didn’t you kill me?” she whispers, numb now to the pads of his digits and the way they demand bruising against the delicate skin of her neck. Pointed indentations to aggravate with her own pressing fingers (assuming she lives long enough for them to form).

“Maybe I just wanted another taste,” Harry admits, eyes clear—surprisingly sincere despite the vulnerability of such a claim. “Maybe I wanted to hear about more of your bad dates—”

“—It wasn’t a date—”

“Maybe…” and Y/N starts to doubt that earnest expression, “maybe I got off on the idea of ruining something—of leaving this kind, sweet, generous girl… with something real to cry about.”

Something real? Something real?

“Why me?” She’s not kidding herself; there’s nothing special or unique that might have altered years and years of Harry’s personal psychology—but maybe, just maybe—Y/N might be given something to help her sleep a little better at night. A reason; valid or not, just something to roll around in the palm of her hands until she could make sense of it.

She’s granted no such thing.

“You stopped the car, Y/N,” he drawls in such a casual tone, sounding the same as the man who had told her his name, debated the importance of the rules of Uno, and breathed a sincere wish that she got home safe. “You let me in. I had nothing to do with it,” Harry promises. But it’s not a friendly promise, nor a reassuring one. It’s an assertion that leaves no room for interpretation, a cold, hard fact that can never be dissected. And unfortunately for Y/N, the fact of the matter remains that this is all her fault.

Cold fingers curl into the front of his hoodie, material scrunching between her digits. Harry tuts, “Hands off,” but Y/N only grips him tighter—knuckles tensing as she urges him closer towards her body by the baggy fabric. (When she’s sober she might berate herself for pushing him the wrong way.)

It’s discernible; Harry’s distaste—eyes sharpening as they slice into her own. He takes matters into his own hands, forcibly removing hers from his front and squeezing the delicate bones of her wrists as he presses them, less than gently, into the harsh bricks.

“Not so obedient today, are we?” Their hips dare to meet, twitches and nudges teasing the inevitable. Y/N can’t disguise the way she bucks a little, thin dress waiting to be bunched and moulded by bigger hands. She knows what he feels like—and it’s impossible not to yearn for it.

Her words are airy—breathless from no exertion—heartbeat drumming in her chest with anticipation. “I assumed you…liked a struggle.”

“I do,” Harry hums, a smile edging back onto his face, as he dips down enough for his breath to kiss her ear, “...but where’s my easy little stray gone?” he pouts, leaning back to tilt his head in a way that suggests simple curiosity. “Girl I met two weeks ago was already open wide f’me by now… Wanna show me your tongue again, pet?”

And it’s juvenile—but Y/N isn’t sober and neither is Harry—when she sticks it out in a way similar to that of a snotty toddler as opposed to the languid reveal she gave him in her car. She pokes it out and scrunches her nose, almost amusing herself in the process. In what is a ridiculous display of immaturity that far from pleases Harry.

He grunts, “Yeah, that’s funny,” patting the side of her face. Hard. Not a slap but something that makes her cheek tingle and her jaw loosen. Even more so when Harry’s fingers squeeze either side and manhandle her face left and right—moving her as he pleases and reveling in the dipping of her eyebrows and the rounding of her eyes. It’s pathetic, really, how quickly she can be reduced to insignificance with just a little pawing.

But he underestimates her ever so slightly. She’s not quite finished it seems, when—through the mush of her mouth—she gurgles, “Are y’gonna kill me this time?”

The amusement that dances so often in Harry’s eyes fizzles out once more. “Shut up, Y/N,” he shoves closer, the blushing tip of his nose daring to brush against her bridge. “Don’t make me say it again.”

She practically preens, rocking up onto the tips of her toes, forcing their chill-bitten skin to brush. “Or what? You’ll make me?” The question floats between them like a perilous snowflake, not for long enough before she jeers, “How you g’na do it? You’ll finally get to watch th—”

Harry’s had enough of her voice, surging forward, desperately capturing the end of Y/N’s exhalation and coalescing it with his own. It’s rough, and it’s dirty—his fingers still controlling every purse of Y/N’s lips—hips finally clashing in a grinding of bones. He lets go of her face, encompassing hands tugging through her hair as he holds the back of her head. The only gesture of comfort he grants her away from the wall; not for long before those same fingers roam and dishevel—nails pinching just on the side of too hard.

Every subconscious twitch of her own fingers has Harry alert—any attempt of Y/N’s made to touch him in exchange meets her swift return of each wrist pinned to either side of her head—knuckles brushing sharp bumps of brick. A small noise seeps out of her mouth and into his own, vibrating against his lips and reducing Harry to a deep, acknowledging sigh.

They’re uncoordinated; desperation dominating precision and finesse. Laboured exhalations blanket their cheeks, noses squished and lips swollen. Harry’s hands float back up to her face, pressing coolly against the sides, spanning the entirety as his thumbs bracket their mouths. He holds her like he wants to consume her—crawl inside her skin, swallow her down—tongue boldly stroking against her own in contrastingly lazy flicks. A dizzying enmeshment of fast and slow, hard and soft.

Y/N’s neck aches from the angle in which she’s forced to meet Harry’s mouth, strong palms nearly pulling her off of her toes as he cups her cheeks with almost too much chivalry, too much romance. It would be all too easy to forget his confession, encompassed in his warmth, his scent—too easy to pretend it didn’t matter.

She sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, pulling back as they clamp and opening her eyes just enough to watch the flesh snap back into place. There’s no time to smile with sadistic glee before Y/N’s head is yanked back by the roots of her hair, slender fingers wrapped in tendrils and tugging. Hard. A gasp is ripped from the back of her throat, cold and sharp against her tonsils. And Harry gets to experience the twitch of his lips and the amusement of winning as Y/N’s back bends to accommodate the sudden stretch of her neck.

He peers down at her parted lips, the slight tension in her brows from the strain, and her heavy arms that slowly droop down against the wall. Small clouds of mist pass between them—the cold air kissing their recycled breaths—soaking in the chill the longer they stay outdoors. The stray street light bounces off of one side of Harry's back, casting a glowing outline around his body as he blocks Y/N in against the wall. The irony of such an image. She shuffles her feet atop the gravel, aching from lack of movement—twitching when a thick thigh nudges its way between her own—soft sweatpants stroking her naked skin.

“Bite me again, sweetheart…” Harry taunts, voice scarily steady, “see what happens.”

A choked laugh escapes from Y/N’s chest, forced through her open mouth. A delightful invitation. She pushes as far up on her toes as she can manage, pulling against the force of Harry’s hand—reaching as far as his chin before she eases the tension. He smirks down at her, wandering fingers teasing the hem of her dress as his thigh warms between hers.

“Pity I don’t get to rip another pair of little tights,” he tuts, trailing a digit up the inside of her knee. “Trying to make the old men happy tonight, were we?” tugging at the material, tight against the tops of her thighs. “Hoping one of them might take you to the bathroom and let you call him Daddy.” He tuts again, “How sad.”

“Would you have?” she pouts, eyes bright with mirth. “Let me call you Daddy?”

“Would I have let you? Would I have given you permission? I don’t think so, pet.” He squishes her cheeks together again—demeaning, degrading—leaning back down to ghost his mouth across her puckered lips. “I don’t think you deserve to call me anything at all.”

Her lungs are tight; desperate for more than just a shallow inhale through her nose, borrowed from another. He’d slowly, ever so slowly, meshed their mouths together once more—stopping her from replying with anything other than a scalding kiss, tongues overlapping in an erotic embrace.

But Y/N finds herself impatient—and Y/N falls short in the realm of manners, greedy hands sneaking down when she gets the chance—palming at the thick outline through Harry’s sweatpants.

“Ah—ah, hands off,” he echoes, fingers tugging at her scalp again, forcibly expelling the breath from her lungs. “Ask nicely. I know you know better than that.”

“I do,” she pants, lips tingling with the imprint of Harry’s own. “I don’t think psychos…deserve nicely.” A dangerous blow. One he doesn’t take lightly—one that makes Y/N think she’s hit a nerve when he grits out his next command, jaw tight and eyes stormy.

“Turn around. You’re pissing me off,” not granting her the option to do so herself before his spanning hands are forcing her waist in a squirming prod until her front meets the wall. She wants to push back but Harry is consuming all the space behind her, chest expanding against her shoulder blades. The heat against her ass is dizzying, tunnelling all of her thoughts to places dissolute.

Harry spits his next words, anger palpable, “Fuckin’ brat,” pulling her against his crotch by the small of her waist. Y/N gasps, ears momentarily filled with nothing but white noise. “I let you go and the universe brought us back together, isn’t that something?” A pause; clearly waiting for her snarky response but he gets nothing. She’s too overtaken by the buzzing between her thighs. “I thought so,” he sighs, “but you’re being such a little bitch tonight.”

A pathetic whine crawls its way out of her downturned lips, wisping between them like a sad trail of smoke. Her head feels thick, like she wants to let it fall back and rest upon Harry’s shoulder. What was she annoyed about again? It feels futile.

The harsh emphasis of ‘bitch’ echoes in her ears about five beats after he’s gritted it out. And it burns deep within her abdomen, a searing coalescence of shame and arousal. “...Not a bitch,” she mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as her hands brace against the wall—willing herself to stay upright; to focus on anything but the heavy bump against her backside. But it is futile, because the insult doesn’t land the way it’s supposed to—it doesn’t upset or offend—and that’s when it becomes clear to Harry that the wall is crumbling. That his charm remains absolute.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, voice lathering her skin like thick globules of honey, “still so easy,” lips kissing the shell of her ear as his breath seeps into her hair, coating and warming. “My little bitch, how about that? Do you like the sound of that?”

She wants to shake her head but it’s too heavy, clogged with the fog of Harry’s voice—every nerve tingling as he glides his palms over her hips and down… across her pelvis and curling around the edge of her dress, teasing it, bunching it up just enough to dance his digits over her mound. Y/N’s hips twitch in anticipation, giving away what her words don’t say.

“Y’want my fingers…” an electrifying brush over her clothed clit, “here?” She exhales a shaky breath, trying to push back into him—it’s the only thing she can do, with her fingernails threatening to dig into stone and her forehead sure to come away with its imprint. Her heartbeat throbs between her thighs and a swallowed whimper seeps out of her mouth. “Got to hear you say it, pet. Say you want me to play with your hot, little cunt.”

“Mhm,” is all Y/N can manage, hoping—praying—that for once it might be good enough.

It’s not.

“Mhm,” Harry echoes, the pressure on her clit disappearing and the bulge nudging against her ass harder. Y/N pushes back—Harry pushes forward. A cant of his hips and a teasing reveal of more and more of her skin, the skirt of her dress manipulated high enough to brush across the small of her back and reveal the breadth of her underwear; less salacious than the purple thong Harry had admired previously. A soft white cotton and frilly pink decorating the hem.

“These are sweet, pet,” he mumbles. But it doesn’t fill her chest with warmth; it fills her with trepidation—waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Harry to tear them or rip them, defile them or taint them. But he never does. He doesn’t do anything aside from stroke his thumb across the hem of her panties, up and along the seam. Y/N exhales, trying to sway her hips in order to sway him but it seems he needs no persuasion.

“I’m waiting,” he scorns—much to Y/N’s distaste. Because waiting is not a luxury that either of them can afford right now. Time… Privacy… Two valuable assets that are not provided by the dimly lit alleyways between dingy bars and the rest of the population. The steel door barely a metre beside Y/N could swing open at any point—revealing a disgruntled worker tired after a long shift—or an impatient pedestrian could decide to try their luck exploring a shortcut and happen upon their preoccupied bodies. And surely there must be a view from a window somewhere, anywhere.

So Y/N says what she knows he wants to hear. “Please,” a whisper—unpossessing of the desperation Harry often desires. But she’s not finished. “Please. Please play with my— my…” his fingers drag down across the gusset, prodding at her fluttering hole through the thin material that’s far from dry. A motivating caress that wobbles Y/N’s voice, “—M-my hot, little cunt.”

Shame bathes in her skin, cheeks blooming with an imprudent heat. But Harry laughs at her compliance, no matter how pathetic or meek. He thuds the width of his fingers over her clit suddenly, Y/N’s knees buckling with the unforeseen impact but Harry grips onto her waist, holding her against the warm wall of his body as his fingers push at her underwear.

The wetness is embarrassing, thick and glossy through the cotton. Harry seems to take pride in it, spending too long nudging his fingers over the slick at her hole instead of focusing where they both know Y/N wants. And then a slip to the side, fingertips prodding at the flimsy hem—manoeuvring it over and out of the way, just enough for the shame to coat his skin.

They’re cold against the radiating heat from between her thighs, pulsing and rolling in waves throughout her insides. A jolt; a twitch, the width of Harry’s chest against her back.

“Hold them—fuck, you’re sopping—hold them f’me,” he instructs, Y/N’s shaking fingers obliging before they even know what for, slinking down the front of her body and shucking the gusset of her panties aside enough for Harry’s liking, “Y’always get this wet or is it just f’me?”

And Harry must know the answer—well acquainted with her pussy once before—asking the questions he knows will satisfy him most. “Jus’ you.” A pathetic admission—even more so when Y/N realises it’s not even a lie.

She’s never been more sure of something. Not by her own hand, not by another cock; never has she been so ruined. “No wonder everyone you fuck bores you.”

Yeah… she had insinuated that—she’d yearned for it to hurt, for it to be interesting—inadvertently matching Harry’s sick sense of pleasure. Because here she was, wetting his fingers—the same fingers he’d taken so much away with—and yet they felt so good.

“You need a bit of danger, baby?” Harry cups over her tightly. “Yeah?”

“—Mhm—”

He smiles, leaning forward into the back of her hair. “Need to pick strange men off of the side of the road? Need to fuck them in alleyways?” His palm grinds along her clit in slow, torturous circles, the tips of his fingers daring to dip inside of her but never breaching. “You gonna let me fuck you, pet? Gonna squeeze that cunt over me again like a good—” he retracts slightly, heavy hand slapping over her pussy and rendering Y/N immobilised, “—fucking—girl?” Each smack jolts her body, knees buckling, crumpled mouth whimpering.

“Ye-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please,” her tone borders on watery, thick with overwhelming urgency—coaxing him to warm his fingers inside of her—pleading with her grabbing hand as it reaches behind her and palms at the front of his sweats. And he’s told her no once… twice before already… so it’s only fair that he slaps down on her again. Harder. Louder. The sound of Y/N’s cry echoing out, just teetering over the edge of too pitchy. He doesn’t bother to smother it.

He’s terse, words forced through the gaps of his teeth as he grits, “Stop fucking touching me. Just…” he sighs, warm breath tickling the shell of her ear, “Jus’ be a… good… little hole, yeah?”

Yeah. Yeah. She can do that, she can— “Okay,” the breath trails out of her lips, wispy and frail, body tightening up when she feels… feels his middle finger circling the outside of her cunt—silently pleading for his touch—“O-okay,” she mewls again, dumbstruck as he pushes in—up to the first knuckle, and then the second, and the third.

“There you go,” it’s gentle, almost nurturing; far too soft for the stolen secrecy of an alleyway. Y/N keens, knuckles tightening around the gusset she’s still holding onto for dear life—empty hand flying down to cover Harry’s own. Delicacy coalescing with rigidity. She begs for his finger to sink deeper, to curl and to soothe—to be cajoled by another—to carve its path inside of her.

Harry wiggles it tauntingly, chest puffing out with a frustrated exhalation. “Give me your hand—come on—” he’s rough as he twists it behind her back, away from his skin and exposed to the cold air, “keep it there, stop—bothering me.” She’s not even rewarded with his bruising grasp around her wrist, just the aching chore of correcting each slip down her back as her arm tires.

His ring finger squeezes beside his middle, tip teasing Y/N’s achy hole, soft pads pressing into the spongy front of her walls. He scissors his fingers inside of her slowly, rubbing with virility as the backs of his index and pinky slap into the plush flesh either side of her wet cunt. And then he gets faster, grunting senselessly through every twitch and clench of her pussy. He finds that spot—and then he abuses it—Y/N unable to support her own weight when her knees start buckling and her tired bicep suffers behind her back.

“Can’t handle it, pet?” the cadence of his tone matches each punch of his fingers inside of her—the pit in Y/N’s stomach edged and taunted with every curl against her gummy walls. “S’it too good? Got you shaking all over th’place with just m’fingers.”

She thinks she garbles something unintelligent but it’s impossible to be sure when all the blood is rushing between her legs.

Harry murmurs, lips catching the shell of her ear, “I think you’re a little slut, baby,” biting down on her lobe with contrasting care. “Letting me ruin you in a dirty alleyway… Outside where anyone could see you—see your drippy pussy soaking m’hand.”

“Yes,” a sigh slips—agreeing to nothing in particular—an expression of pleasure, a plea for more.

A dark laugh stretches taut between them, powerful as his fingers speed up, palm slapping against her clit with each thrust. It vibrates and buzzes, twitches and pulsates. “You’re g’na cum for me, pet. Right now.”

It’s a simple demand. One that manhandles Y/N to the very edge—it dangles her over as the drop below taunts her. It beckons her like a siren call. Harry nudges her spot again, and again, and again—coaxing it, consoling it. Every curl of his fingers, every thud of his palm. It fills her up, breath catching, head falling back on her neck. And then she falls, plummets, cascades down—jaw dropped in a silent cry as her cunt convulses seismically around Harry’s fingers—clamping near violently. He rubs her through it, stroking her walls in heavy thrusts as he slows and forces her to feel it all.

“There you go, good girl. Filthy girl.” His hand glistens with her slick, pulling strings away with it. Y/N mourns his fingers, his warmth when he pulls away. Her hole flutters and her body suddenly feels cold—isolated and alone.

He exhales, “Fuck—put your hands on the wall, bend over a bit—that’s it,” crouching down, perverse in the way he inspects the glistening between her thighs. At least, that’s what Y/N assumes he’s doing as he nestles in closer to her cunt, close enough for his breaths to wash over her shaking form.

One heavy forearm pins the skirt of her dress over the rounds of her arse, his free hand coming up to spread her open with the precision of a man who has much more time than either of them currently do. Y/N doesn’t see the way her slick creates ribbons between his fingers after he nudges at her opening and pulls away to scrutinise them. She doesn’t see the way his throat bobs as he tucks his digits past his blushing lips and laves his tongue around them salaciously. She only hears the muffled hum, and the harsh breath leave his nose as the man beneath her drools around himself.

“Sweet little thing,” he pants, voice gruff—gravelly—when he finally brings his fingers back to her centre. He pets at her, thudding the thick of them against her quivering cunt unnecessarily; from a want to render her even less stable on her aching legs. “Absolutely drenched f’me, aren’t you. Does that scare you, sweetheart?”

A whimper climbs out from Y/N’s throat, delayed in her response. Answering of the wrong question—the one she would lie about if she were sober. She needs more—she needs something more… something all-consuming.

“Fuck—fuck me—now,” she pleads, hips pushing back as her neck cranes to catch a glimpse of the man below her.

He rises to his full height. “That’s not how you ask.”

“Please. Or I’ll… I’ll—”

“You’ll what, pet?”

“—I’ll tell everyone…” she whines, trailing off when her words reach no conclusion.

“Yeah? You’ll tell everyone. You’ll go to the police?” She’s nodding mindlessly, head weighing her down. “And what will you say?” tone turning petulant and shrieky, “‘I let him defile me, officer. I let him stretch me out on his big cock, officer. I let him do whatever he wanted, officer—’”

“Please,” her voice is thick, full with a sob—and a wave of panic washes over her at the possibility of not having him at all.

“Don’t know if you deserve it now,” drumming his fingers across the small of her back. “Threatening me, huh? Silly girl.”

No reasoning comes to mind—nothing smart or clever to wield as a rebuttal. Just a slew of pathetic sounds; only possibly attractive to someone yearning for power—someone like Harry. Her body answers for her, still desperately twitching and searching for his own and being rewarded with nothing. He stays stoic, mild palm smoothing along the expanses of her chill-bitten backside.

“Tell you what…” he starts, a sly smile morphing the sound of his voice. “You be quiet f’me, yeah? You be quiet and I’ll give you what you want. Don’t w’na hear a single fucking thing else from this bratty, little mouth, you understand?”

A trick—an attempt for her to slip up before they’ve even begun. She nods frantically, teeth clamped together, lips equally as shut. She’s ready to offer more than is wise, for him to fuck her—ready to give herself up completely just so he’ll quell that ache. The nerves of their exposition are really starting to buzz along the surface of her skin.

“There you go, not so hard, is it?” She shakes her head no, enthralled by the soft sound of skin rubbing against thick cotton, fingers slipping underneath elasticated waistbands. “Good,” Harry murmurs, so quiet that Y/N wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for her heightened senses. And then again, even softer, swallowed around a gruff exhale that she can only assume is in response to curling his fingers around himself. “Good girl.”

She feels him tug at the gusset of her panties—haphazardly skewed across her centre, unable to conform without the curl of Y/N’s prying joints keeping them astray. Harry stretches the stitches easily, forcing the fabric to adhere to his perversion, as his thumb strokes the skin adjacent to where she would really feel it.

The corner of a condom wrapper flutters to the floor out of Y/N’s periphery, landing by her achy feet, as the image of Harry tearing it with his teeth flashes behind her eyelids. He rolls it on silently—and for a moment she wishes she could see—picture the length, the girth that had scripted her deepest desires so dominantly.

He smooths his hand up, underneath her dress, shuffling in closer behind her as he nudges the head of his cock against her slick cunt. Y/N’s jaw drops open in a silent whimper—catching the noise, suffocating it in her throat before it ripples out around them. Sweat gathers in the palms of her hands, irritated against the rough brick wall when they’d much rather be buried in his hair. Her forehead dips down, willing Harry to do something… anything.

He strokes up and down her clit, smiling at every overstimulated twitch, dipping down to smear arousal. He teases her, letting the thick of his tip stretch her entrance before he pulls back. Once, twice, three times… And then he sinks in, fingertips creating divots in her hips, holding harder with each inch that he carves out inside of her. When his pelvis cushions against her ass, he sighs—a long exhale of breath—followed by a rumbling from within his chest, “Perfect little pussy.”

Y/N can’t help the little whimper that falls from her lips, brows scrunched, dipping towards the centre of her face. Either Harry has a change of heart or he doesn’t hear her—too enraptured in the feeling of every vein and ridge perfectly filling the space surrounding him; as though created just for him, his cock.

He doesn’t move, perfectly still—embedded deep inside of her convulsing pussy—feeling her out. Mentally (though physically too). Waiting and waiting, regarding her presence with a slight jerk of his hips that already press demandingly into her backside. Waiting for those words to fall off of the tip of her tongue, with a protesting or begging cadence, and redirect his little game. A game Harry doesn’t even know the rules to—the only importance serving in his right to manhandle Y/N every which way; however he may please. A single plea, or a frustrated curse… that’s all he needs.

But she holds on. She stays silent and her hands stay slipping down the bricks. Enough so to have the opposite effect; to rile Harry up, to have his digits curl tighter into her skin and pull out all the way—feel her clench around him in an effort to keep him inside—and then rock back into her. Harder. The thud of their flesh meeting rippling out around them.

Y/N doesn’t think that’s very fair; physically forcing the sounds from her larynx—punching the air from her lungs in such a way that makes it impossible for her silence to remain. She cries out, quiet enough to suggest a desire for modesty but loud enough for Harry’s lips to curl up nefariously.

“What did I say?” His hand clamps around her mouth, fingers brushing her eyelashes if he stretches them out far enough. The grip forces Y/N’s neck to stretch, trembling body elongating as Harry straightens her out and melds her into the wall. Her forearms squish into her biceps and her chest flattens indelicately. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was trying to cast her into the bricks, grout and all.

His hips snap back into her.

“Fuck,” Harry moans wantonly—exaggerated as he amuses himself with the pleasure of her newfound silence—“that’s sexy,” teeth grazing her ear. “So much hotter with your mouth shut, you know that?” She opens it just to spite him, tongue laving over his palm. His hips slap harder against her in return, eager to manoeuvre and curl his digits along the flesh of her tongue—eliciting a harsh gag from her unprepared throat.

It perturbs him none when she presses her teeth into his skin, clamping gently at first but losing the capacity to be anything when Harry slinks his other hand around her neck. The blood fights for its strength, struggling and forcing its way through to her brain as the periphery of Y/N’s vision darkens. There’s nothing scary about it—and if they weren’t outside she might feel a semblance of peace.

“You prefer it like this, don’t you?” Harry gruffs against the side of her face, lashes threatening to kiss over her temple. “Jus’ w’na be treated like a silly—little—slut.” His thrusts punctuate each word, short cries forcing their way between his fingers. Drool gathers in the well of his palm, shameful rivulets smearing against Y/N’s chin.

“Don’t you?”

“Mhm—Mhmn—” she garbles something thick, tongue heavy in her mouth—battling against the extra weight of Harry’s intrusive digits. She swallows around them.

He’s everywhere—soft clothes baggy on him and swamping her frame as he swallows her up—sure that if someone were to simply glance down their alleyway she would not be seen. Heat plagues her, rolling out of her pores in thick, murky waves—the kind of heat she suddenly fears she will always be cold without. The presence against her back, the stoicity of his figure.

Her noises topple out.

Sad, desperate, pathetic little whines—snappy with the way Harry pummels into her. No one would have to ponder for long to dissect the cause of such sounds. Flesh smacking, fabric chafing, laboured breathing.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know,” fingers tighten around her throat. “Shrieky thing, you are. Can’t stay quiet to save your life.”

The insinuation is not lost on her, no matter the delirium that she’s submerged under. And Harry relishes in it; of course he does.

He slurs, “Would you die happy? Right now? Right now, baby?”

And Y/N knows she’s deeply flawed when his words scratch a spot. When she doesn’t recoil in disgust, attempt to pull away and run—but instead melts even further into his grasp. Nodding in jerky nudges of her head. She’s not giving him permission to stop the beating of her heart but she supposes it doesn’t matter either way.

Harry rips his hand from her mouth, trailing saliva down the front of her dress, squeezing his thick forearm between her abdomen and the wall as he searches cruelly to overstimulate her. She’s been so easy thus far, soft and pliable no matter Harry’s propensity for writhing. But when he skims over her clit, that…—that’s when she starts to struggle. To will her body away from the torturous pads of his fingers.

This only encourages her tormentor, deft digits pulling up the hood, allowing no room to hide as he applies direct pressure and tightens the barrier of his arm as her body spasms out of control. A sob rips from Y/N’s chest, loud enough to be deemed inappropriate—and no matter how much pleasure he might find in those sounds, she’s teetering on the brink of becoming dangerous. The grasp around her neck loosens, fingers slipping up to push past her lips again; the only effective method of muffling her at all.

Y/N keens with the weight in her mouth, relishes in the way her lips have to wrap around his big, masculine fingers. “Fucking tight, pet,” Harry grunts, ministrations messy and uncoordinated as he rubs over her clit, bumping into his shaft with every thrust. And she is—clamping down so hard her muscles yearn to loosen. They yearn to melt into a softness, into a safety, into a slumber. But her brain is running away, and Harry’s not slowing down, the tip of his cock abusing the spot he already petted at so perfectly with his fingers.

And he knows she’s nearly there, smiles into the crook of her neck and lets his teeth bite into her flesh for just a second.

But just as her orgasm starts to topple over the edge, he stops. He leans back, pulling her hips so her bum juts out and her back arches again.

“Come on, I’m tired, baby,” he teases, a slither of playfulness lost to the tightness in his voice, hips dragging to a still. “Long day of slaughtering.” Y/N is too far gone to find the joke inappropriate. To even register anymore that this whole affair is inappropriate. “Work for it a little,” Harry leans back, eyeing up the place in which they meet, shining in the glow of the streetlight. She’s still for too long, trying to process where his movements have gone—confused pants turning the ends of Harry’s lips.

“S’feel good?” Hands aid hips slightly—just enough to gain momentum, as Y/N fails to question why she’s suddenly the one fucking him—only chasing the return of the blissful prodding of her insides. Harry’s eyes are glued to her pussy, stretched deliciously around the thick of his cock, dragging back and forth with each nudge of her over him. The soft of her ass meets his pelvis and he delivers a squeeze in return, fingers destined to leave their presence known as he manhandles the flesh. Pulling and indenting, the other hand hanging heavily by his side as his gaze trails over Y/N’s bending body.

He deigns to let the saliva in his mouth pool in the hollow of his tongue, lips pursing as a line of drool drips down onto her puckered hole—the sudden sensation making Y/N convulse around him—twitch and gasp, stutter her hips and still for a moment. Harry thumbs over her carelessly, moving his thumb down to the stretch of her cunt around his prick; an unnecessary wetness. Somewhat possessed by the image below him, removed of all purpose except this one.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

Y/N shakes her head, a squeak ripped from her throat when Harry’s palm comes down on her ass, the sound reverberating through the silence of the alleyway. “N-no,” she cries. No, he didn’t. He never told her to stop.

“So keep fucking moving, sweetheart.” She nods mindlessly, head shaking up and down as her hips pick back up—thighs burning quicker with the exertion of it all. Her forehead scrapes against the wall, eyes squeezing shut with concentration as she focuses on the in and out, back and forth—every stretch against her walls dizzying—every nudge inside of her rendering more and more of her body to jelly.

She wants that feeling back; the one where she’s constantly on the verge of cumming. But there’s too much to focus on—her hands digging into the bricks, her thighs shaking, her clit untouched and overstimulated at the same time.

“I don’t have all fucking day—” Y/N would scoff if she could but the frustration spikes, “—come on. Fuck’s sake—”

Harry loses his patience, pulling out completely in a jarring sequence of motion, leaving Y/N panting—struggling to stay afloat if she were treading water. He physically turns her around and hoists her up as though she is made of nothing—slinging her thighs around the bumps of his hips.

And this is the first time she’s seen his face in… a while. The first time since he’d started dismantling her with his fingers, his cock. Y/N’s heart jumps, the stoicity in which he displays; unsettling and erotic simultaneously. She lifts her heavy hands, moving with the weight of a thousand tonnes, but Harry is quick to catch them. He yanks them overhead, grazing the stone, incarcerated within the circumference of his hand.

It hurts. The wall scratches up the delicate skin of her back, through the flimsy material of her dress. It hurts but it’s grounding—Y/N only thinks about the way her flesh will serve as a reminder of Harry, of this bar, and of this alleyway.

“Gonna make me do everything myself, hm?” gripping around his shaft, painting it across her slit with a harshness that makes Y/N shudder. He’s disrespectful, sliding in indelicately, rough palm yanking down the front of her chest to smooth over her neglected tits, squeezing and moulding between his fingers.

Y/N’s already there, she’s sure. The pit at the bottom of her stomach tightening, her eyes clenching shut, head falling back unceremoniously despite the view she has below her. Harry’s grunting, low, gravelly sounds that enmesh with her own whimpery exhalations.

“Fucking look at me—look at me,” pinching digits squish her cheeks together. A smirk tugs at the corners of Harry’s mouth, tongue darting out to wet his lips when Y/N stares at them. “Let me see that pretty, slutty face.” Her brows quirk when he rocks in particularly deep, eyes flitting around—unsure of what to look at first. Harry’s own face is flushed; perhaps the only indicator he can even feel her at all. That and the size of his pupils—the shortness of his breaths as they wash across her face.

She holds his gaze, mouth ajar with soundless cries.

“You’ll always be my filthy—plaything,” pressing in so close their noses touch. “Even after I’m… long gone—and… you’ve got some other man’s cock inside you,” his breathing shallows, “you’ll always have been mine.” Y/N doesn’t doubt him, she doesn’t even try. Not when he punctuates every word with a thrust so deep it lingers and blossoms inside of her, spreading through each limb and tingling in her fingertips.

Harry’s hand manhandles her face from side to side, grip immovable.

“When you go running back to—Cody… and he can’t fuck you properly… and all you’ll wish for is me—but you’ll hate yourself for it, won’t you, pet?” He pouts, eyes rounding out in a faux sense of sympathy. “For wanting a cold-blooded killer to make you feel good.”

He hammers the final nail into the coffin, lips brushing her own in a sadistic contradiction, voice only a whisper when he says, “You’ll never feel this good again.”

Y/N sobs audibly this time, cunt clenching from his words alone. She thinks he could talk her over the finish line entirely. The promise is dreadful, and it weighs heavy despite how perfectly it nuzzles against her sweet spot. But then he drops her cheeks and snakes those same fingers down, circling easily over her swollen clit. She convulses, weak wrists tugging against the constraints of his hand.

Harry’s close, desperate now to reach his peak. He sinks his teeth into her bottom lip. “Go on. Cum. Cum on your stranger’s cock.”

It’s a wonder Y/N doesn’t crumple to the floor as she cums—but somehow her thighs stay gripped around Harry’s hips. If anything they tighten, squeezing up to his waist, yearning to crush him between her as he pushes her over the edge again and joins her himself as he releases rope after rope into the condom, hips rocking all the way through. He’s moaning a slew of real pretty noises, and Y/N can’t help but pulse at every single one—orgasm begging to last forever—forcing her eyes open no matter the struggle, so that she can really see what he looks like.

It’s devastating—when he smiles. Pleasure written all over his face as his thrusts slow down, cock still dragging through her but no longer with a purpose. And Y/N finds it disorienting; the happiness in which she could be convinced he is feeling. As if it were all a joke—some twisted roleplay—that they were simply playing a fun, little sex game, of all things.

He pats her hip when he slides out, too gentle for Y/N’s post-orgasmic haze. She’s tired now. Too tired to be out at a bar, alone.

Harry encourages her legs from around his waist. “That’s it, down you get, good girl.” Her legs wobble as her feet meet the ground, the centre of her thighs vibrating and pulsating. She only somewhat sees him tying the condom and tucking it back into the wrapper.

“Do you need some help getting home?” Y/N feels like crying. Of course she does. But not from him, never from him—that would be even sillier than letting him fuck her. And then fuck her again.

“N-no,” her voice dry and scratchy.

He’s not convinced but he doesn’t ask again. He simply crouches down and searches for the hem of her underwear under her dress. Y/N thinks he might fix the gusset back over the mess of her pussy but he doesn’t. No, he wiggles them down her thighs and lifts up each shaky leg to retrieve the fabric and twirl it around a slender finger.

“Let me have these, yeah, pet? A little trophy, hm?” Something screams from within Y/N to be scared. But she’s tired now. “It’s only fair… don’t y’think?—if I can’t have what I truly want.” She wishes to wonder why he can’t, but the thought doesn’t form fully. Perhaps he’ll kill her now, after all. She’s fulfilled her brief, performed her duties.

But he’s already taking a few steps back; a distance that feels gargantuan in her current state. She blinks, and then blinks again, mindless fingers fixing clothes and brushing hair from her face. The cold suddenly hits her like a freight train, bare legs littered in goosebumps.

Harry sighs, like he’s considering something in his head before shucking his hoodie from his body and letting it hang between them. An offer. “Keep it warm f’me,” he murmurs, eyes insistent. She takes it with a shaky hand, and hurries to drown herself in his second-hand heat.

He’s already beginning to walk away by the time her head emerges from the fabric, eyes flitting in a panic as they focus back on his shrinking frame. Y/N is offered one final glimpse when he angles his head back to see her, a small smile upturning his mouth. His words fill no hole, quell no worries, heal no wounds. They add insult to injury, smirk morphing his tone.

“Why don’t you… go back inside, yeah? Have another drink for me.”

Y/N’s feet feel stuck—glued to the gravel, too scared to take her eyes off of him for even a moment. But he nods his head towards the door, silently repeating his assertion. “Go on.”

Slowly, she heads back into the bar, the heavy door squealing on its rusty hinges. She sits back down on her previously claimed stool.

She waits.

The stranger never follows her inside. Y/N never notes his silhouette in her peripherals on the other end of the bar, yellow-polished fingertips stroking over a rocks glass as the two pretend not to know one another.

He never comes in and… maybe it’s for the better.

Y/N never sees him again.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #dark harry styles #dom!harry #dom!harry styles x sub!reader #dark harry #harry styles writing #harry styles imagines

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lucysarah-c · 5 months

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Not in season? Pt. 2

Summary: Winter had settled in, and the scouts were busy training and preparing for the prospects of spring, still far away, to retake Wall Maria. Despite the snow accumulating outside, the building was freezing cold, and the world had secluded itself until the temperature rose. So, why was Captain Levi boiling in his own body? Something felt off, but his mind was quickly slipping into insanity as he tried to find a rational explanation.

Part 1!! Author note:: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. I'm self-conscious about my smut, so… practice makes perfect. That's it. In case I forget any warning or tag, feel free to remind me. Pairing: Levi x fem! reader. Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Levi Ackerman, Top Levi Ackerman, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Knotting, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Smut, Breeding, Forced breeding, Biting, Breeding Kink, dubcon, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Forced Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex, Nurse reader, Alpha Levi x Omega reader, Captain Levi Ackerma, Captain Levi x Nurse Reader, Dirty talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Alpha Hange Zoë, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Erwin Smith, Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha Jean Kirstein, Alpha Mikasa Ackerman. Omegaverse. Word count: 10.8k You had been warned lmao

Tags!: @nmlkys @jimoonbeau @fictiondrunk @notgoodforlife @nube55 @justkon @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @thoreeo @quillinhand @humanitys-strongest-bamf @levisbrat25 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @fxnnyackerman @trashblackrainbow @secretmoneybearvoid @b4rb3qu3 @vickybeexd @mindfulsreposts @blueeclipsepaperstudent @vegetasgirl2799 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Time—time was needed, whether it be a refreshing shower or a bucket of snow from outside the building thrown at him. Anything that could pull any part of his consciousness back to work. As her lips moved and the sounds of her mouth echoed softly, his mind wondered if she was truly awake or if it was unconscious spasms. He sat on the mattress, eyes fixed on her features, waiting, expecting anything.

Carefully and delicately, he crawled out of bed, like a mother leaving a baby in a room without waking it up. When his feet touched the floor, he almost tripped on something. His eyes surveyed the mess, and he fought every inch of his body not to go on a cleaning rampage. The only reason stopping him? She moved, flexing one leg up for more comfort, and he swore he didn’t mean to stare. His attention moving on its own over her body, focusing on the mating mark—his mating mark—most impressively, his own release between her legs.

Pulsations in his head, frowning as the pain appeared. That was the reason stopping him from tidying up the room, each breath triggering demands like “one more” and “just one more... to be sure.” He needed to scratch every skin cell with bleach if necessary, with the coldest water and the sharpest brush. Her scent, the aphrodisiac almost cloying aroma her body expelled, clouded his judgment. He picked up the crumpled sheets at the edge of the bed to gently cover her frame.

So that was exactly what he did—locked the door, turned on the rushing water without waiting for it to warm up, and jumped straight in. Regrets filled his mind; he had never behaved this way before. Alphas unable to control themselves, using heats or ruts as excuses, were something he despised. Perhaps even more than he hated MPs. The consequences were obvious; he had claimed her. Between Alphas and Omegas, a claiming mark was more powerful than any wedding ring.

‘What if...’ his consciousness brought up once again as he quickly tidied up his appearance. Dark locks swayed as he shook his head forcefully, erasing the thought. ‘We will cross that bridge when we get there.’ Once rational thoughts replaced the arousal haze, anxiety kicked in. It felt loud inside his head, too many worries in such a small period. He wasn’t sure what was worse at this rate.

Blessing any existing god out there, his bathroom and the drawers with clothes were tidied up enough to find objects quickly. The dips of his hair dripped water almost everywhere. On other occasions, he would have waited until it dried a bit before anything else, but his mind was clouded with one priority—being in the room when she woke up. The idea of her waking up alone in his twisted sheets and undone bed, feeling used or discarded, was like a stab to his own morality.

Heavy with water, hair fell into his face. He pushed it backward as his hand ran through his locks while searching for a shirt to wear. A pair of sweatpants was on, and this time, he was wearing underwear—the first garment he put on as the idea of his nudity made him uneasy. The Captain tried to put the uniform on, perhaps to finally go back to work after so many days, but he felt sensitive in places that would probably make him ashamed to confess. Tight white jeans were the last thing he desired right now.

Gripping the edges of a simple white shirt to push it over his head, turning around and resting on the chest of drawers as he did. Pushing down the fabric, only to find two half-lidded eyes looking at him. Frozen in place, as if he waited for the bullet to pierce through his forehead. Slow blinks as he noticed her trying to gulp, her eyes focusing on him. On other occasions, he might consider how endearing and sexually appealing she looked while sleepily laying on her side, with the sheet sticking to the curve of her waist. Suddenly, the edge of the sheet was pushed upwards, clinging to her body as she sat down erratically.

‘Here we go,’ mentally preparing himself.

“Levi?!” The confusion in her tone, the desperation in her eyes judging him across the room. “What- What happened? What is this?!”

His lips parted softly as if he gathered what he could possibly answer. Her feet became exposed as she kept tugging on the sheet to cover her body. “Where are my clothes?”

“I—” Levi murmured, his voice sounding rough and raspy as he hadn’t spoken for a good couple of hours while his eyes searched on the floor for any piece of garment that didn’t belong to him. “I don’t know.”

“What time is it? What day is it? How—”

“Look,” one of his hands raised as the other gripped the edge of the furniture behind him, grounding him to reality. “I’ve as much information as you.”

A hiss of pain pierced through the room as she frowned deeply. Her hands instinctively reaching backward to her nape as the other tightly gripped the sheet against her chest. Confusion palpable in her face as, with drawn-together eyebrows and parted lips, she admired leftover blood in her hand from a wound that was probably repeated over the past few days.

“You... you marked me?” her voice sounded distant. “But... I’m a beta.”

Quick was him to add, “Yes, about that,” as if this was the only question on an exam’s sheet that he knew and was eager to answer. “No.”

Her accusing eyes were back on him, not looking very pleased. “What do you mean? I’m 24 years old, I can’t present now. I’m a beta.”

“Yeah,” he repeated this time less sure, “No…”

She scoffed, offended that he doubted her word. “You’re saying you know more than me about myself? Than doctors? Than my own enlistment sheet?”

Levi clicked his tongue and softly shook his head, “I ain’t no doctor, I’m just stating the shitty facts I got, and those are that alphas can’t claim betas,” his words seemed heavy with the weight of his own thoughts. “And betas don’t trigger a fucking rut of days into me. You got both.”

His lips pursed together, head tilted downwards, and looking to his right. Being subtle and diplomatic with his words wasn’t what he was known for, and therefore he was trying his best to control his sharp tongue. She seemed obviously confused and scared. Society had certain implicit rules and expectations learned after presentation that Alphas and Omegas learned across the way as they grew. Himself had taught Eren when he presented that the brat couldn’t go around baring teeth and sniffing around if there was an Omega, to get a hold of their instincts. Couldn’t even imagine how it felt to find out about it so late in life.

“Are you implying this was my fault?” Her eyes appeared reflective, and he hated that.

“No, that ain’t what I said,” He quickly restored, involuntarily getting defensive. “Look, let’s—” his right hand raised once again trying to get his point across. Now presented, he could perceive her uneasiness in the air.

“Don’t you dare to tell me to calm down,” the way she spat each word and the anger in her tone caught him off guard.

His unwillingness to add to the issue made the hand that was reaching out softly switch to the right, pointing to the door as he spoke. “Let’s take a shower,” he rearranged his statement, “I bet the water warmed up already. Why don’t you take a shower while I clean this pigsty?”

While the uneasiness in the room lingered as the stale air, the hostile undertones seemed to withdraw slowly as her attention focused on the bedroom’s floor, allowing Levi a moment of freedom from her demanding glance. “I— I’ve nothing to wear when I come out.”

As the soldier he was, ready to break from the shock and jump into the battlefield, it snapped him. Turning around to quickly gather the first pieces of garments he could find and handing them back to her. “There are towels in the bathroom.”

Y/N grabbed the pile of clothes and carefully put her feet back on the floor as she descended the bed, taking the sheet with her as if it could provide any sort of protection. Once the door was shut close, Levi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It hadn’t been easier than he anticipated. In reality, he had anticipated nothing, so her not snapping him across the face was already a win.

Though he dedicated himself to picking up the remaining food and belongings scattered on the floor, the bitten loaves of bread, now growing mold, made him grimace uneasily and blush slightly in shame. Images of him hastily consuming the food until crawling back to bed played in his mind. Being reduced to such an animalistic state brewed a self-absorbed shame that was hard to explain. Perhaps it felt akin to the last time he had experienced a rut, despite not being with an omega—back in his early to mid-twenties, nearly a decade ago. The closest feeling that mirrored his shame was as if he had regressed to bedwetting or, more accurately, having to wash sheets after a wet dream. While it was natural for alphas to suffer ruts twice a year upon reaching adulthood, the years without them left him feeling wrong.

Opening the window, he noticed the early morning glow in the sky. Inhaling fresh breaths, he felt a chill like sinking into frozen water. Both the office and bedroom windows were open, creating an airflow. Finally, out of his bedroom, he surveyed his suspiciously tidy office. Despite his hazy state, he seemed to have confined himself to lurking in his bedroom. A thin layer of dust, perceptible only to him, hinted that more days had passed than he anticipated. "There you are," he murmured, his eyes fixed on two pieces of clothing strewn on the floor—a nightgown and a cardigan. Picking them up, he folded them together.

The sound of the bathroom door's knob opening caught his attention. Instead of leading to the bedroom, she emerged from the entrance that connected to the office. Uncertain, he stood still as her presence appeared again, holding folded bedsheets in her arms. The grey trousers and black turtleneck sweater she wore belonged to him. Their eyes met again; she seemed not to expect this encounter.

"Uhm... I'm going to my room," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Your sheets."

Levi extended his hand to accept her offer and handed her the folded clothes. He tried to engage the part of his brain responsible for social interaction to come up with an appropriate response. She took her clothes, mumbled a "Thank you," and left. Standing there, looking at the closed door, he felt confused, ashamed, and doubtful. Should he have said something? Done something? Well, in his mind, he had done enough—more than enough.

‘Perhaps she needs time,’ he tried to rationalize the situation, but the painful short stabs in his body were something he wasn’t used to. His body wasn’t happy that he had let go of his mate, his perhaps pregnant mate. Instincts demanded once again; she may be carrying his offspring, and he just let her go—undefended, unprotected, to God knows where! ‘I know where, to her shitty room,’ he muttered under his breath as he argued against himself.

Slender fingers scratched the back of his head, searching for mental peace. The growl of his stomach gave him an answer to the roaming question in his mind—what to do now? Search for food, apparently. The coldness of the air coming through the open windows made him shiver; feeling something other than scorching heat was refreshing. The walk of shame down the halls to the higher-ups' kitchen was reduced slightly by the early hours and its lack of people around. Continually sighing while thinking that anything inside the kitchen would be devoured. If it was from anyone else, he would apologize later; right now, he felt as if he had gone out and gotten pissed drunk the night before—overwhelmingly starving.

“Well well well, look who finally came out from his bunker,”

Levi did a quick side-eye contact as he bit on a piece of bread with cheese on top while he cooked himself breakfast, unable to wait until the actual meal was finished. Groaning an acknowledging reply to Hange as he had his mouth full.

“If it wasn’t for the very loud awkward noises that came from your room, I would have declared you dead already,” the mischievous smile was even perceptible in their tone as they wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders.

“I’m not in the mood, four eyes,” the captain muttered once he had swallowed the food.

“Unbelievable, you are the lucky bastard who had been getting laid for almost twelve days straight, and you’re in a bad mood?! Nothing can make you stop being grumpy, isn’t it?” Hange said clearly entertained, but their words made Levi’s eyes sparkle.

“Twelve days? What day is it?”

Hange began to chuckle before replying, “18th of November. You owe me one; I had been training your squad and doing your paperwork for two weeks.”

Uneasy groans of complaint echoed in the small kitchen as he stirred around the eggs with the bacon. His deadly eyes met the other squad leader, “Owe you? You should have kept everyone out of my room! You realize what I’ve just done?”

Hange raised both of their hands in the air, “Wow wow, slow down! How is this my fault?” Their loud complaints were quick to arrive as Levi muttered bitter replies under his breath, “How was I supposed to know she was an omega? And even if I found out, you would have ripped my arms off just for the sake of mating with her.”

“Yeah... you’re fucking right, goddamned it,” Levi accepted it resigned.

“Where's your baby girl?” Hange’s cheeky personality was quick to return. “Making breakfast for your wifey?”

“Don’t call her that,” Levi spit out, “In her room, she left.”

It was the squad leader’s time to groan uneasily, “You let your newly presented and bonded mate leave? And you call yourself a high breed Alpha?”

If it was even possible, Levi frowned more deeply. “What was I supposed to do?” he dragged the words as he muttered them under his breath, putting his breakfast out of the pan. “Kidnap her in my room?”

Hange, who grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate to eat, owned a tired dead gaze from Levi, only to see him roll his eyes as the squad leader complained about it burning their fingers and being hot while they tried to eat it anyway. “Well,” they chuckled with their mouth full, “You kidnapped her there for twelve days, one more one less wasn’t going to make a difference.”

The captain tiredly sighed echoed as he grabbed his plate and tugged it away from the other alpha before they devoured it all. Carefully putting the dishes in a tray with a tea set for the rest of the morning, ready to find solitude in his chambers again.

“By the way,” Hange added again, “When do you think the due date is? Erwin and I have a bet on who is going to be cool uncle.”

Levi stopped midway as he was about to leave the kitchen, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face the brunette. “Why the hell were you and Eyebrows talking about that shit?”

The other alpha simply shrugged and then commented, entertained, “It was hard not to talk about it. You two weren’t particularly hush about it, you know? We’re entitled to talk about it after enduring almost two weeks of hearing you two mate like wild animals.”

Uneasy groans mixed with his ashamed grimace at the mere thought. It didn’t help that the titan lover kept going, “You know, we both concluded that we can’t believe we thought of her as a beta.” Their comment, made with the same unbothered attitude as Hange was known for rambling about topics, didn’t match with Levi's shift in attitude. First, the confusion surpassed his previous shame, only to then demand an explanation with his fierce, sharp eyes. Hange began to chuckle nervously as they thought that, perhaps, they shouldn’t have said that. “Well... you know...” they muttered, feeling the short man’s anger, “… it’s impossible that was a beta’s ass.”

Two alphas, closed in a room talking about his omega’s ass. It’s the best ass in the walls, don’t get him wrong, but he’s the only one allowed to make that observation... at least publicly.

“Ugh,” Hange complained loudly as they walked down a hall.

Erwin looked at the squad leader confused and highlighted, “I saw Levi’s window open; he’s finally out?” then added, “Are you alright?”

“Levi kicked me,” they replied as they caressed their butt.

Shaking his head slightly and sighing as if he were dealing with children, “I told you not to tell him anything weird while he still had a cocktail of hormones inside him,” the commander simply reproached them.

The thud of the forehead impacting with the harsh oak wood of the desk, the deep breath that came out as a scoff, fogging up the surface, the subtle sleet hitting the windows’ glass behind before turning into snow once again, dark locks tangling as they fell forward graciously, and the clock in the office announcing it was almost midnight. ‘I survived.’ Those felt like accurate words despite his line of work; his body felt as if he had been grabbed by a titan and snapped against those big trees. His body felt in better shape when he came back from an expedition, and he wasn’t lying. Not even the best intentions and the hardest mental strength could force him to go to training with his squad; the kids had been annoyingly supportive of hearing him feel better from his “cold.”

The muscles of his legs twitched involuntarily, and the muscles of his body felt like jelly; his brain fogged with tiredness. Blaming it completely on the drop in hormones that forced him to be on top of his game, now he felt as if he was suffering withdrawal. Any mix of substances that his body produced in excess during his rut to secure the stamina to endure the mating, the strength and sharpness to be ready to fight for his breeding right, and also to protect him and his mate during the period the pheromones could have driven someone into their nest had fulfilled its role. Now, without them and the tiredness of the aftermath of forcing his body into them, it had left him feeling as if someone had smashed all his bones. Adding to that, his instincts didn’t cease to remind him to stay close to his mate, whom he hadn’t seen all day. In normal situations, newly mated couples would have nested until both felt back to their usual selves and, more importantly, until the claiming mark settled and marked forever their bond.

If he had three surviving brain cells after everything, two were completely dedicated to reminding him that whatever they should be doing as mates, he simply wasn’t doing it. Gritting his teeth as his instincts having power over him was starting to drive him nuts. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk to her, but he also wished to respect her space. Tired eyes, half-lidded, looked through his dark and dense eyelashes as he checked the clock after it began to announce midnight. The only few times he had left his chambers to pick up and deliver paperwork and during meals to check on his squad, he hadn’t seen her. And from what he subtly asked, nobody else had either.

This anxiety and uncertainty in him weren’t normal; he was usually decisive. The tip of the fountain pen hit against the paper, leaving little dots as he pondered the idea of checking on her, trying to decipher if it was his instincts talking or actual rational thoughts.

“Fuck it,”

White rice with butter and cheese in a bowl, carried on a tray, sliced apples, chamomile tea. Were the rumors true that omegas felt nauseous during post-mating syndrome? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to take risks. Had he overdone it? His anxiety replied positively. His lack of security wasn't something he enjoyed, and his knuckles hesitated to knock on the infirmary's door that led to her personal chambers inside. Forcing himself, one, two, three knocks resounded too much for his liking in the middle of the night.

Time seemed to move slowly, and he seriously considered leaving the food there. Then the door creaked, and her tired eyes observed him from the gap.

"I-Uh... I brought you some supper," Levi mentioned, slightly raising the tray as if the metal piece with food on top wasn't enough indication.

The heavy dark circles under her eyes, the reflection in them, and her uneven look. She had seen better days; they had seen better days. Her silence gnawed at his sanity, and he seriously considered that interacting was easier when they were both intoxicated with their own hormones. Plus, his awkwardness and lack of social skills made him conclude that, perhaps, his body was right, and the only way he could engage in producing offspring was clouding his judgment completely.

"Everything smells very strong, makes me nauseous," her voice, subtle as the flight of a moth in the middle of the night, murmured as her hands gripped the edge of the door, resting her face and weight on it. "It's very overwhelming."

Levi readjusted his weight to the other leg and gave it a thought. "It's natural; you'll get used to it," he replied shortly, "and learn to kinda switch off your brain to not pay attention to every piece of nonsense."

He, for example, could perceive it all. She was like an open book, her distress, confusion, and now subtle tints of happiness that he tried to attribute to her body reacting positively to the proximity of him as her mate. It was, in a sense, a bit endearing how she wasn't able to control her pheromones yet.

Y/N's soft chuckles caught his attention as the air turned sweet, and she smiled softly. "You know a lot," she replied. Unconsciously, it boosted his pride; her body reacted positively and relaxed in his presence.

"I presented when I was 11, an early bloomer. I remember wanting to rip off my shitty nose from my face," his comment made her chuckle again, and it made him wish he had something else to say to earn another smile.

She let the door adorned with a small brass plaque that simply read "Infirmary" slide open and stepped to a side as a subtle indication he was welcome in. Levi had been there too many times, none of them for himself but usually because Jean and Eren fought again. As one entered, the scent of antiseptic greeted them, mingling with the faint aroma of old wood and polished linoleum floors and hers that it took all his willpower to fight against. If his body was trying to return to its normal working system, her uncontrolled liberation of pheromones was like a punch in the gut that he tried to hide.

The walls were painted in a soothing, muted colour to create an illusion of calmness, while the tall, narrow windows allowed slivers of nightlight to filter through dusty curtains. Rows of narrow iron beds lined the room, each neatly made with crisp white sheets and thin, worn blankets. A wooden cabinet filled with basic medical supplies, from bandages to cough syrup, occupied one corner, its glass doors revealing caramel bottles with remedies.

A small desk in the corner held a register where ailments and treatments were meticulously recorded with pen and ink. A single, dim lamp illuminated the desk, casting a pool of light in an otherwise subdued room. One small door that mimetite with the walls, led to her personal chambers. They were very similar to his, slightly smaller and with a small round table probably to fill up the lack of an office. And, of course, a bathroom with two doors, one leading to the infirmary and another to her room. He left the tray on the table, and his eyes did a quick check on her room, mostly out of curiosity.

It was tidy, not to his standards but nice. The bed was made, and the sort of femininity that the place radiated made him giggle or nervous from inside. Perhaps it was the crochet table runner, the bed's scarf, the small pots with plants on the window frame, the body lotions next to the bed. The attention to details that he, despite living in his own space for longer, hadn't thought of buying, and she had insisted on making the place her own despite the lugged bags still being around as she hadn't been done unpacking yet. It all made him wonder when the last time had been he had been at a woman's place; the life in the scouts really makes nights lonely.

Not wanting to overstay his visit, he was ready to leave. But as she sat down on her small table, her hand reached out to grip his forearm and look up to him. "Stay; it makes my mind so calm and quiet when you're around," she said without any restrictions.

"It's the bond," Levi murmured, but he sat down anyway. Trying to disguise how mentally peaceful himself was now that they were close, his possessiveness of "what if there's another alpha around when I'm not there? What if she lets another alpha claim her to change the mark when it's still too fresh?" quickly subsided.

She took quiet and slow spoon feed portions of the rice, and he tried to glue his eyes on anything else to not make her feel observed while eating. Her loud tired sighs filled the extremely uncomfortable silence, "you know... my life was way easier when I was a beta."

Levi hummed in appreciation, "I bet," he added without much to say.

"It's a very weird feeling, bittersweet perhaps," Y/N murmured while she slowly ate. She chuckled softly, as if she remembered something funny. "I had this very silly crush on you since I joined, and you helped me clean the infirmary. I accepted that we would only be friends because," she stopped, and he looked at her, shocked. "Well, because you're a high-breed alpha-"

"I've never actually cared about those shits, not like I'm some banker's brat that needs to secure an heir," Levi quickly added, interrupting her.

"Huh?" Her face turned to the left to look at him as his statement made no sense, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Words weren't his strength, so he decided to spit out anything in his brain. "That I didn't care you were a beta."

"Are you implying you had been flirting with me before this?"

He scratched the back of his head and murmured slightly offended, "Yeah, for the past two months. Thank you for finally noticing."

Despite his soft words, she remained confused “That was you flirting?”

Levi scoffed, offended. "Fucking excuse me, usually, we flirt with scents and mark territory — both things you didn't notice until now."

Perhaps then, pieces fell into place, the sense of calmness she experienced each time they had tea at his place. The subtle citrus, lavender-scented with a musky undertone had always been him, trying to convey his intentions in the only way he knew how. Or, maybe, all the opposites—his body reacting on its own, even at the prospect of her being a beta, trying to provide a sense of protection and calmness to the place, showing his willingness to a potential mate.

The only reply he got was a few shallows, quiet chuckles before she continued eating a little longer, a soft smile on her features. "And the bittersweet part?" Levi insisted, picking up where she had left off.

"Oh," her memory recalled her comment, and she blushed heavily. "Well... apparently mating with an alpha is harder than being stepped on by a horde of Titans," she explained, grimacing uneasily. "I've bruises everywhere, and I can barely move."

"I usually behave more... I'm not particularly vanilla, but I'm a bit more civilized." As the air lightened slightly, and it felt as if both were finally addressing the elephant in the room, Levi tried to force himself to be a bit more talkative. "If it makes you feel better, I feel like shit too."

"You? What could you possibly be hurting from?"

"I would like to see you topping for twelve days straight," Levi snorted back, his pride hurt that she wasn't taking his part of the job seriously.

"Fair, fair." Giving in just for the sake of it, she picked up a slice of the red apple and ate it casually. "You know..." she thought of commenting but then, "nevermind."

"What? Just spit it out," Levi's harsh nature stepped in, especially insisting as he observed her face turn red.

"I was just thinking that... Maybe this explains why," her voice grew hushed and embarrassed, "I always felt like something was lacking with my beta ex."

An entertained scoff left his lips, mixed with a cocky side smirk. He felt as if his inner alpha was kicking out of happiness. Alphas are competitive, possessive, and jealous creatures by nature; they may even feel jealous of the pillow their omega hugs while asleep. Being delighted with the idea that there’s no other that could provide the strength they show while mating is like a big pat on their back.

Levi didn’t want to press the matter too much, letting her come and talk things out at her own pace. Her brows drew together as she felt the pain pulsing again, her hand reaching backward to softly caress the mark on her neck. “This hurts horrendously,” she admitted through clenched teeth, “I put numbing cream and-”

“Don’t put anything on it,” Levi quickly interrupted. “Your body may react more because it feels that you may be trying to reject it.”

Her eyes opened, locked into his, the frown still present. “Was biting me this hard so absolutely necessary?”

“If I had any power over my actions during a rut, do you think we would be in this situation? Where there is a high chance, I got you knocked up?”

Levi’s words pierced the night like a cannonball does from the top of the walls to a titan’s neck; she looked at him uneasy and confused. Nobody dared to even whisper; not even the sound of a mouse was perceived. Her expression of anger softly switched, as she averted his gaze looking in another direction. Maybe she preferred not to think about it, but Levi has always been a man that faced reality as it was given to him.

“Maybe...” she started to suggest, breathing deeply. “Maybe it didn’t take,”

Levi slightly contorted uneasily, taking a subtle deep breath to steady himself. “What?” her ignorance in certain dynamics was something he had to constantly remind himself. He knew she didn’t do it with harm, “I just came out of a two-week rut, my body has more hormones at the moment than a fifteen-year-old brat... try not to say straight in my face that I didn’t breed you properly because you’re only triggering another round on me.”

“I’m just saying that I know that some low-breed omegas can’t get pregnant by high-breeds that easily. “ She insisted, giving it a rational thought “Maybe the reason I didn’t present is that I’m closer to a beta than an omega by being low breed.”

While her explanation seemed logical in her mind, Levi heard her with a deadpan expression. “Didn’t you hear me? Two shitty weeks, no fuckin’ way you’re low-breed.”

Perhaps that had been the consolation she had been running with the entire day, and the weight of the matter began to hang on her heavier than before, which didn’t help Levi to feel less concerned and uneasy. Her attention lost somewhere, and for once, Levi wished he could be subtle and charismatic, perhaps to have something to say. The confession she had made a few minutes ago held in Levi’s mind longer than he liked to admit, and he tried to wrap himself around it to initiate his response, waiting first for a bit for her to add anything else.

“Ehm-” he cleared his throat as he drew attention back to him, sat down around her small round table in the corner of her room, “maybe we jumped a bunch of shitty steps in the dating process or whatever, but I don’t mind trying to make it work if you want.”

His right hand dubiously reached out thinking of creating physical contact for comfort. First reaching for her left thigh but reconsidering deeply, while pressing his lips together, he moved it upwards to her forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “And I’ll back you up in any decision you take about it if it turns out you’re knocked up.”

Her drained voice, perhaps due to tiredness or fear, whispered, “Really?”

“Huh?” Levi seemed slightly confused, “well, we are already bonded, so at least we could give it a try...”

“No, I mean the other. You really don’t mind anything?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

The washed-out memory of his own mother popped into his mind for a brief second before replying seriously and with no doubt on his face, "Well... I won’t be the one pregnant for nine months and neither the one who is going to be giving birth, so what I prefer doesn’t really matter," Levi said unfazed. "And I know I’m not a fucking sunshine, but I’m not that shitty to get you knocked up and leave you to face it alone."

While nothing was written in stone, and the consequences of it were still too soon to be sure, there was a soft sense of tranquillity that washed over her. A soft smile cracked on her face. "Thank you," she murmured.

At the beginning, it felt conflicting going back as if nothing had happened. Drinking tea at his office while both worked on their respective paperwork, nobody wanted to press the matter further. Though Levi would hear whispering gossip between his own squad, the Captain tried his best to let her process what had happened and allow himself to do it.

Keeping the scouts under strict rules of not letting it escalate was easy; a death glance from Humanity’s strongest soldier was enough to make all the curious cadet and squad leaders keep themselves in line. Humanity’s strongest soldier, that’s who Levi was. "Worth an entire army," whispers as the scouts pass by, the only one that people recognized enough for those "Wanted" posters while they were fighting the uprising a few months ago. The person people put their dreams and hopes in now that they were planning the retake of Wall Maria.

"MH..." hummed sounds echoed in her throat as her delighted eyes admired the pastries in the showcase. Levi has taken his squad to pick up groceries downtown, and she had insisted on going, breathing some fresh air and sending medical reports. "I’m really craving something sweet," it was more of an inner monologue than something meant to be answered.

Though her eyes full of desire caught Levi's attention as he was waiting for the provisions given to him, analyzing it with second thoughts. But he wasn’t the only one with curious eyes; the baker admired the scene behind the counter. The madam was an omega, and, while her years of fertility may have already passed, she had been involved in too many dynamics and had enough kids behind her to spot a freshly mated couple from a mile.

"Ah! The hazelnuts one, please!" Y/N had finally made up her mind on her little treat, pointing with her finger across the glass at the small cake. The old woman nodded in agreement. Another coworker was putting the big flour white bags on the rustic cart they had brought to take the provisions as Levi supervised both. When the baker was handling the smaller purchase, Y/N was about to handle her payment, but Levi was quick to offer the money first with the military coupons for the food provisions.

"Hey," she looked at him complaining but not completely mad. "It’s mine; I’m paying."

Levi clicked his tongue, "Don’t be stupid," he insisted and grabbed the paper bag to hand to her. While he didn’t reciprocate the soft pouting, she did at him, the shop owner simply took his food coupons and smiled as she regretted the money.

"It’s on the house," she quickly added, and Y/N checked the inside of the bag, and there were also extra treats and cookies. Levi didn’t seem convinced about it, but the old woman, with her white apron covering most of her dress and her hair out of the way, smiled interestedly and asked, "When is the due date?"

Older women and their audacity; colours quickly dropped from both, only to raise back harder as blood rushed to their cheeks.

"Ehm, it’s too soon yet," Levi quickly added, trying to smooth out the situation, shortly spitting out the answer.

The surprised gasp, and then "Oh, I thought... well, it’s hard to tell with all the layers during winter," she insisted. Y/N smiled awkwardly, as, after receiving the gift, she didn’t want to just leave. "So, is it recent?"

Levi’s eyes did quick checks on the cart, praying it would get all the provisions faster so he could slip himself from this social situation, "Yeah," he groaned out.

"Weird... it’s not mating season," she commented, pointing out something that Levi had probably seen coming; he had to hold back a sigh.

"Yes, well, thank you very much," he replied faster as he noticed the cart was loaded, and he was more than ready to leave. Y/N thanked back too, gathering any left in her to give a sort of friendly grimace before walking away with him.

The uncomfortable silence as they walked across the rest of the shops, Levi’s squad taking care of different tasks, and some of them even shopping for themselves. "How?" she began to question unsure while adjusting her scarf that covered the mating mark.

"The scent," Levi quickly replied, already knowing where the conversation was going. "I come here very often; she probably noticed the change, and you smelling as a mated omega put two and two together."

Humming a mix between an understanding but confused reply, she wrapped herself better in her coat as the weather was still very harsh. "I still get confused about the aromas thing," the nurse confessed. "Sometimes it feels like teenagers get it better than me." There was a sort of defeat with shame in her tone.

"When you’re mated, you can say that you stink less. After all, there’s no point in dragging attention any further," Levi explained. "Think of it as getting a cheap, shitty perfume; you still smell like you, but less intense."

Her attention was drawn to her left as he explained it out for her, both resting on the edge of the cart as they waited. Blaming the cold on her cheeks, softly blushing as she smiled at his understanding. After this, she was thankful that her trips to the downtown were very scarce because the rumor spread faster than any winter flu. Levi could barely walk down without getting congratulations, presents, cheerful words from older women and young mothers. Some gifted him wood for the baby, treats for his mate, the proud pats of older alphas telling him that "good for him, it was time already for getting a proper mate."

Even the Reeves sent him meat under the excuse that "pregnant women need more iron." His face always tried to hide the unpleasant social moments that came with this, but Hange insisted that he was not nailing at faking being happy about the public celebrations. 'It’s too soon,' he would insist, but 'you’re a high breed and so is she, both young, everybody is sure it will take.'

"Perhaps it’s bad timing," Erwin commented, trying to hold back a mischievous smirk. "But Nile and Zackary send their congratulations." Levi dedicated his beast dead glance across the office as they were in a meeting. Hange didn’t even try to hold back a loud laugh while Erwin tried his best not to chuckle in the captain’s face. "Don’t look at me like that; I didn’t tell them... they found out on their own."

Fingers doing pressure on the bridge of his wrinkled nose, "Fuck me," he cursed under his breath. It’s not that he wasn’t "sure"; it had been almost two months, and she hadn’t come to him with any "news," which meant that any passing day was more of a confirmation than a negative. She seemed reluctant even to mention the topic, and since both seemed to be improving the quality time together, Levi didn’t want to risk asking too much. But the uncertainty was starting to grow on him. It didn’t help that her pheromones sometimes gave him clues when they were alone that she was interested in perhaps moving a bit further than just sharing teatime together. His scent quickly matched, giving away that he was more than willing to get tangled in bed once again, this time both consciously.

But... she never noticed, never made a move, and after what happened, he wanted her to take the lead. 'It’s her body reacting,' he reminded himself, which was both arousing to know her deeper instincts wanted him, cute that she couldn’t control it yet, and frustrating to know that it wasn’t voluntary. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had never been mated before, obviously, and being around his mate triggered it more. If he had gone so many years without it that after getting laid again, he started to crave it more. But he felt the necessity.

So, there she was, sat down on his desk, legs swinging as she ranted about how her day visiting her friends had been. Until the unsure clearing of her throat caught his attention again from paperwork. "I was... wondering if perhaps you could spare me a couple of clothes?"

That had definitely caught him off guard. "My friends from my nurse’s hostel, most of them are omegas, so they almost threw me a welcome party," Levi hummed understanding, wanting to know where this was going. "They mentioned that perhaps my insomnia may be due to... nesting? That my body feels uneasy, and perhaps having my mate’s scent would help? Sounds very stupid, I know-"

"Sure," he quickly agreed and blessed his well-known stoic face to hide his disappointment. His own mate preferred a bunch of scented clothes over being with him; his inner instincts were kicking in anger, almost throwing a tantrum in the floor of his mind like a spoiled brat. Being rejected by your bond is not something alphas took easily, and he had to clench his teeth holding back the imperious necessity to mark territory again. He was better than behaving like a wild animal, he knew but yet.

"Give me a minute to finish this report," he replied between clenched teeth.

"Expedition Wall Maria?" She asked, somehow trying to keep the conversation alive. He hummed positively. "How are the preparations going?" she insisted, pushing the topic further.

"Good."

Her lips pressed together; her eyes never left the back of his head as he curved over his desk to write endless reports. Then, "You’re going to come back, right?" pierced the room, followed by "...you’re not leaving me to deal with this alone, right?"

The pen stopped moving as his fingers left it to rest after it had run out of ink, his back straightened up to look over to her as she remained seated on the edge of the desk, the desk where he had undressed her. Coral light filtering through the window’s glass landing on her. The training was over only an hour ago, and he tried to advance paperwork before dinner. It was still early, and the bustling of the building hadn’t ceased yet. Despite it all, Levi felt as if the silence was overwhelmingly loud.

The doubt in her eyes was almost tangible; therefore, he said the only thing that crossed his mind. "I’ll come back walking if I have to."

Fast short scoff as her cheeks raised in a tender smile, Levi was tempted to push the idea further. He took it as a confirmation somehow and wanted to know it all, at least what she knew so far. But before he knew it, she was descending from his desk, and the intentions of leaving the place were written all over her face.

"Let me finish this, and I’ll give you the shirts," Levi insisted, the disappointment on his face was hard to disguise until her hand grabbed his armrest for support, one leg then the other. It was so simple, but his legs tilted sideways, and he could feel how his blood dropped to pump downwards as she sat down on his lap. Instinctively tilting his leg outward, making space, parting legs.

The scent passing thought his nostrils, soaking in his brain, making him be aware of his fangs before he could notice. It wasn’t like a heat, of course, not but inviting enough. Receiprocating almost immediately, on full will and not so much too, seeing how with each breath her cheeks blushed more and her eyes turned transparent. Ass on his knees, making him wish she had moved forward directly over his bulge, to feel the sweet pressure of her body over his dick.

"I don’t think I want the shirts..." She murmured, somehow quickly breathless, as her right hand reached forward to cup his face, “I’ve one and it doesn’t smell like you,” her eyes turning transparent as the pheromones sank in, remembering the clothes he had borrowed her the morning after “You smell divine,”

His hands moved instinctively, quickly rubbing her sides lightly, cupping her hips before gripping and try to push her closer, “How is this fucking fair?” he said hoarsely, trying to keep his voice level despite the fire raging through his veins “You had my clothes and I was here, like a teenager trying to recall how your slippery cunt milked me dry,”

The shock ways shivering down both of them, forcing a soft gasp out of her parted lips as Levi buried his face on the crook of her neck, feeling his mating mark. Recalling with pleasure it had been him who had claimed her, she was all his and nobody else. Shameless tongue running through the mark with closed eyes and scoff of aphrodisiac reassurance, he could feel the pheromones in her skin. Both bodies reacting to each other as if they were made for this. Her hand gripping his dark locks as her neck suffered the attack.

Softly rocking between his parted legs, she could feel the outline of his hardening cock almost painfully twitching against the white trousers of the uniform. Crumping upwards the skirt but a strong push of her hand against his chest got him resting on the desk’s chair. Dusted cheeks, sassy smirk, her neck glistering under the tangerine light of the afternoon, “I want to suck you, Captain,”

He couldn’t make his mind in which he liked more, the memory of her in-drunk state of pure heat’s submission, becoming a pliant hole for him to fuck rough or her assertive cock drunk self. But he couldn’t mind it less as her hand palmed the front of his trousers before grasping his length to start to pump it through the fabric. She straddled Levi, hand on his shoulders before kissing him desperately, Levi kissed her back forcefully.

The early afternoon had turned excided as one of his hands gripped the back of her neck to kiss her deeply, hips gridding against each other. His hand kneeling her ass through the uniform dress with content. Head switching to the sides as he pried her mouth open, saliva dripping to the sides. The sound her lips parting echoed in the office, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the view of her reddish pumped lips. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he imagined her on her knees, those full lips wrapped around him.

His hands tightened around her ass cheeks, before giving it a good smack that made her jump slightly in his lap. Loud gasp as he pulls her closer and he leaned towards her ear again “Eager for it, huh?”

“Mhh-” Nodding enthusiastic while humming positively.

“Good girl,” Levi smirked, caressing her ass once more, squeezing it tightly before slapping it again. Burning sensation crossing though her body only to feel it tingling with the afterglow heating sensation of the hit, “On your knees. Suck me dry, baby girl,”

Straighten up slightly on his seat as she pulled away to get on her knees to unbuckle his belt. Raising slightly to rip his trousers and boxes as down as they could go with the harness on. Uncomfortably staying on the middle of his thighs and Levi quickly concluded that whoever designed the military uniform didn’t get laid frequently or, at least, they weren’t thinking in getting fuck on their desk’s chair. Exposing his hardened cock fully, it stood erect and throbbing as the tip glistered with pre cum. On top of his balls, the base was slightly engorged as it prepared for the knotting at the correct time.

Half lidded eyes admiring as she hovered with her forearms on each side of his legs to softly, almost ghostly, run the tip of her tongue through his thick, pale shalf. The action alone, the teasing, made him want to thrust forward and leak precum thought the tip. Big eyes looking up to him through her eyelashes. Smirking playfully as she collected the dropping with her tongue, only to then roll down the foreskin, revealing the tip to wrap her lips around the darkened head and suck directly from the exposed slit.

His hands gripped the chenille of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth. Clenching his teeth as she kept teasing him, giving subtle little kitty licks to the sides, sucking directly from the tip without going down. Barely toughing him.

“Fuck,” Levi cursed as he could feel the smirk on her lips, moving up again to the head. His hands gripped her head firmly, guiding her towards his aching member. "Suck me," he growled hoarsely, his voice filled with hunger and desire. Forcefully pushing her downwards this time, feeling the vibrations of her complain around his cock.

“There you go,” Levi groaned. Her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking hungrily on it as she continued to stroke him firmly. Slender fingers ran up and down around her hair before make shifting a ponytail to keep the hairs out of her face, admiring the view better. Her reddish lips, struggling around his cock, watery eyes as she tried to take a bit more each time she went down, the hollowing of her cheeks, the velvety sensation of her tongue against the pulsating vein of his cock each time she bobbed upwards. Delicate hands gripping the side of his thighs for support as she began to bob her head with favour. Her hand continued to stroke him rhythmically, matching the pace of her mouth movements.

“Fuck,” Levi's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as she took him deep, her warm, wet mouth engulfing his entire length. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her head firmly as he began to thrust into her throat, fucking her face roughly.

"That's it, girly," he praised, his voice hoarse with desire. His mind kept reminding him he should have got his sooner, remind her who was his alpha and get it. Fucking her throat roughly, his hips bucked wildly, each powerful thrust pushing deeper into her throat. Her hands dropped to his legs, fingers digging into his thighs for balance, hearing her struggle to take him all in.

“MHH!” Her chocking sounds mixed with the whines as he kept forcing her head all the way down, the saliva dripping through her mouth corners. As she deep throated him, gagging, Levi's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head down harder against his member. His mind kept reminding him he should have gotten a mate sooner, priving himself from this was unhuman. To have an omega, to fuck her silly, to enjoy the tightest warmest cock-drunk cunt each time he wanted. Submissive pretty little thing, to mount and breed at least once per year.

“What’s the matter? Not used to the thick fat cock of an alpha?” the smirk on his face could almost be heard through the pants that left his lips, “Don’t worry,” he mocked with faked condescending, “I’ll teach you how to be a proper omega,”

Half lidded eyes looking back at him as she sobbed while letting Levi use her mouth, droll dripping down her chin.

The feeling of her throat contracting around his length was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips bucked wildly, thrusting harder and faster, his balls slapping against her chin as she continued to suckle hungrily.

"That's it," he growled, his voice low and husky. Her moans turned into high-pitched whimpers, mixed with the wet sounds of her mouth working over his cock. “That’s my good girl,” he praised before finally pulling her head off with a loud pop. Quickly she crawled into his lap, straddling him.

His fingers unbuttoned the front of her uniform, yanked down the sleeves to a side so he could have direct access to her chest. His fingers traced the delicate curves of her breasts through the fabric, feeling her nipples harden under his touch. He leaned forward, capturing one of them between his lips, sucking greedily as his hand cupped her other breast, kneading it roughly.

“Ahh- Levi!” her soft moans echoing in the room mixing with the tale-tell of his lips licking her bud. His tongue circled her nipple, teasing it before finally taking it into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily through the fabric. The inner part of her breast turning a dark shade as he sucked the valley of her chest. Meanwhile, Levi’s freehand moved to gather her skirt to her waist.

Levi's hands grabbed her ass, squeezing and kneading it roughly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath her skirt. He couldn't resist the urge to taste her again, suckling greedily on her nipple as he thrust his hips upwards, grinding their bodies together. His tongue continued to tease and suck on her nipple, alternating between gentle flicks of his tongue against the sensitive bud and deep, forceful sucks that left marks on her skin. His hips rocked rhythmically beneath her, grinding their crotches together, seeking more contact. But it wasn't enough. He needed to feel her wetness, to know for certain how much she wanted him.

As soon as his fingers brushed against her entrance, she let out a soft cry, arching her back into his touch. Her hips bucked subtly against his hand, inviting him deeper inside her. And so, without any further hesitation and incapable of waiting any more, Levi pushed her underwear to a side and slid two fingers into her core, moaning softly at the slick warmth enveloping him.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. His thumb rubbed against her clit, circling it in a slow, deliberate motion. "You were made for this," then he insisted, “You got it all fucking wrong, you’ve always been made for this. To cramp down my fat knot,”

Levi couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as he heard Y/N’s soft mewls, her body responding eagerly to his touch clinging to his fingers like a vice. "You like that?" he murmured; his voice thick with desire. "You want more? You want me to breed you again?"

"Mh," she moaned, arching her back further as his fingers delved deeper. Her hands gripped his shoulders, holding herself steady as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Fuck yes..."

Hair falling backwards as she arched over him, continuing to fuck herself on his fingers, Levi could feel the tension building within him. He wanted more—needed to be inside her, feeling her tight heat surround him completely. But there was something else driving him, too—something primal and possessive that made him crave the act of mark her as his own, to make sure everyone knew she belonged to him.

“Yes! Ah- Yes, Levi!” Y/N mewled pleasantly, milking the digits.

It was a strange feeling for him, this possessiveness over another person—but at the same time, it felt right. Like something he had been missing all these years without even realizing it.

"Wanna get my knot again? Mh?" He chuckled darkly, almost coaxing a confession out of her. "I'll fucking remind you how I got you knocked up," he promised. Her body clenched around his fingers, a silent plea for more, and Levi didn't disappoint.

"Tell me," He growled, his voice low and husky. "Admit it, you want my knot inside you."

As if she had been waiting for this moment, Y/N’s eyes locked with his, filled with a mix of lust and submission. "Yes... I need it... give it to me..."

"That's my girl," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "Take every inch of me, just like your tight little cunt was made for this."

He pulled his fingers out of her, savouring the sound of her whimpering protest. His hand reached down between their bodies, grasping his own painfully hard cock, which was now leaking copious amounts of precum onto his stomach. With one swift motion, he positioned himself at her entrance, lining up his head with her tight hole. Her hand gripped his shoulder and slowly sunk on it.

As Levi felt himself sliding into her tight heat, he groaned in pure bliss. Her walls squeezed around him, milking every inch of his length as she slowly lowered herself onto him. His fangs ached with the need to claim her again, but he resisted the urge for now.

“N-Ngh,” she mewled, “Ah, so big,”. He had just put it in, and she could feel the head of his cock already prodding her cervix. The fullness and tug of her own body trying to fit him all in was aphrodisiacal, if it wasn’t that they were already bonded, she would have promised to never fuck a beta again. Levi’s dick was so impossible thick, it didn’t help that he pressed a hand on her belly to feel himself there. To feel himself filling her up to the brim as she wiggled her way down to be fully seated.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, helping her to ease up and down his cock as he fucked her roughly, their bodies slapping together noisily. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils, making his fangs ache with the need to mark her again. She was riding him as her life depended on it, mouth hanging open, drooling as her eyes rolled backwards each time his cock plugged all the way in, hitting all the good spots.

"Fuck," Levi hissed, gasping softly as he admired with delight her well-fucked face. He could hear the wet sounds of their bodies coming together, see the glistening sweat on her skin as she moved against him.

"Fucking— Shit," he growled breathless, thrusting harder into her depths. "You like that? You love swallowing my cock?”

“YES! Ah- yes!” shamelessly moaning as she sat down completely, gyrating her hips before going back to bounce.

Momentarily closing his eyes, pushing his head against the back of the seat as he felt his cock squeezed, sucking him in the best cunt he had ever had. “God- Yes, keep going,” he urged. Levi could feel it all the base of his cock inflate, her slick dripping down his balls. He gripped her hips tighter, pulling her ass cheeks apart for better access to her hole. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his voice interrupted for heavy inhales and satisfied groans.

“Fu-fuck, enjoying that dick?” Levi growled satisfied; his voice weakened with desperation.

Positive mewls vibrated on her throat as he thrusted upwards hard enough to make her wince each time.

"You're mine," Levi growled, his voice hoarse with desire. "Mine to claim and fuck whenever I want." His hips bucked harder, driving deeper into her tight channel, hitting all her good spots mercilessly.

The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, creating a rhythmic beat that matched their shared heartbeats. Sweat dripped down both of them, mixing on their skin in a sticky mess. He could feel himself nearing climax, his balls tightening up as he prepared to release inside her.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Let go and let me fill you up again."

She let out everything shamelessly; mewls, whims, load moans of his name as she sank down one last time. Using his shoulder to leverage, gripping his uniform jacket with her fist, tugging him closer. Crying in pleasure as she came all over him. Levi gripped her hips harder, pounding upwards with everything he had, chasing his own release.

“Nng- Ah-” she complained slightly as his swallowed base teased to finally pop inside. Levi gritted his teeth painfully as he kept gridding upwards, trying to finally put his knot.

Levi couldn't hold back any longer, reaching forward and biting her harshly over his claiming mark once more. Painful gasp left her lips as she twitched over him. With one final powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her tight channel, groaning in pure ecstasy as his climax crashed over him once his knot pressed against her entrance and managed to slip in. His cock twitched violently, spurting hot seed deep within her womb, filling her up completely.

"Ah- yesss!" he cried out, his voice cracking with pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good." He kept jerking himself against her, pumping in in vain, unable to pull out, as he kept coming. He held onto her hips tightly, thrusting weakly against her even after he had finished, savouring the feel of being buried inside her. His heart pounded against his chest, and he could feel his breath hitching in his throat as the aftermath washed over him.

Body slacked against the chair, collapsing on it. Hair sticking to each other's face as both panted heavily trying to catch their breath, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her head buried on the crook of his neck. Then she tilted lightly to the right as his hands softly caressed her face, pushing the sticky locks out of her features. She smiled softly with blushed cheeks and half lidded eyes in satisfaction. Leading forward, sharing a couple of sloppy kisses as they came down the peak.

The once warm light that came through the window had turned coldly as the night slightly slipped in. He felt exhausted yet satisfied, but an uncomfortable whine followed by a hiss left his lips as he felt her move. “Don’t” he warned her, his hand gripping her hips to hold her in place. His knot still locking them together and his cock twitched in overstimulation.

Y/N groaned uncomfortable, “How long does this take?”

“The more you move, the longer it will take,” He said, “Half an hour at least,”

“I’m hungry,” she complained.

“Well... that make two of us,” Levi replied.

396 notes · View notes

muns-quinn · 3 months

Text

Life After Dark

Part one - part two here

Eddie Munson x stevessister!reader

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving), weed, alcohol, language

A/N: I’m completely out of my element since I haven’t written in agesssss so I apologize in advance lmao it isn’t my best work. It’s more of a slow burn at first but it’ll get there eventually. I probably won’t publish my work as fast as I did previously because of my schedule and I also just want to enjoy writing because I want to do it. I apologize in advance for any mistakes, typos, anything that doesn’t make sense, etc. Also, this will be a series so this is part one!

Playlist that I listened to/made up while writing this.

Being a Harrington wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. Everyone knew your family, it started from your parents and then your older brother Steve added onto that during his high school years. The family name was truly something that nobody could forget and you had to live up to it to the best of your abilities.

Though you had your differences and fought with each other like any other sibling group, you were close. You shared some of the same friends, been through things together that others normally wouldn’t, but most importantly you protected each other in any way you could.

The sound of the cold spring rain hit against your ceiling and the scent of your freshly washed hair flows through your nostrils as you hear your parents bickering back and forth, getting louder with each sentence. You run your brush through your hair and place it onto your nightstand before turning your doorknob and walking downstairs. There was half a pot of coffee left over in the kitchen and there was a pile of dirty dishes left in the sink, what a fantastic way to start your day.

“I think you’ve got more than enough packed for the week.” You hear your dad grumble from the top of the stairs, dragging down their suitcases.

“I don’t think you’ve packed near enough.” Your mom replied as she follows him down the steps.

Another thing about you and Steve was the fact that you practically had to raise yourselves. Your parents were extremely respected in town, however they were barely home because of their out of town business meetings. They’re usually gone from days to weeks on end because of the company, yet they always give the two of you specific rules to follow.

“Make sure the both of you are in the house by 11.” Your mom orders you, both of her hands full with bags filled with her things.

“Mhm.” You agreed absentmindedly, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Nobody’s staying over either. He goes to work, you do your volunteer work, and you both get home. Got it?” Your dad adds.

“Got it.” You mutter, taking a sip.

They quickly rush out of the door, your dad closing it with a slam and the house goes to complete silence again. The peaceful sound you’ve grown to love and appreciate over the years, the sound of positivity and pure bliss from your chaotic life.

Steve walks down the stairs still half asleep, his hair an absolute mess and his eyes barely open. He makes his way to the coffee pot, pouring what’s left of it in his individual mug. You finish yours off before placing it with the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink, dreading the clean up once you get home.

“What time’s your shift?” You question him.

“10-7.” He grumbles tiredly. “Ah shit, you’ve got that volunteer work this week don’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m sure I can walk home, just need you to take me there since it’s raining if that’s alright.” You explain.

“Yeah that’s fine, when do you have to leave?”

“In abouttttt… 8 minutes.” You mention as you glance over to the clock.

9:28 am

Shit. Steve was going to be late for work if he didn’t hurry. He leaves his mug on the counter and zooms past you and up the stairs, immediately running into his room to get ready for his shift. You place his mug in the same sink and walk over to your front door and grab your shoes before sliding them on and tying the shoe laces. You hear Steve complaining and expressing profanities, occasionally hearing the sound of something falling over and hitting the ground as he runs around.

“In the car!” He urges as he runs down the stairs.

You follow his directions and rush outside and to the car, hopping in the front seat and buckling in. He locked the front door and ran to the drivers side, jumping in and scurrying onto the road.

“Library, right?” He verified.

“You would be correct.” You nod.

In order to graduate Hawkins High, you had to have 20 hours of volunteer work before the end of the spring semester. As always, you waited until the last second to choose where you wanted to volunteer so the only open available slots were at the library. You didn’t mind, you’ve been there plenty of times and enjoyed the silence it offered, so it could have gotten worse. With that being said, you also waited until the last second to begin with your volunteer work so you had to volunteer for the entirety of your spring break.

Steve sped through town in order to get to work on time since he was on his last strike and didn’t want to lose his job. He shows up at the library, barely stopping the car to allow you out before he drives back off down the road. The rain was beating down onto your hair as you run inside, the cool air fanning your face as you walk inside of the library. You stroll over to the front desk, finding the sign in sheet for the volunteer work and you sign your name.

“Good to see you again, sweetie.” The older woman smiles at you as she turns around, you smile back in reply.

“What can I help you with today?” You ask, she looks around at the empty library, jotting down a to do list on a small sheet of paper.

• Reorganize the non-fiction section by author name

• Retape magazines that are falling apart

• Wipe down any surface with dust

• Reorganize the fiction section by author name

The list was nearly endless, but you took it with a smile anyway.

“If you need any help, you know where to find me.” She winks, her glasses showing your reflection back to you.

“Thank you, Alorie.” You nod, turning on your heels and walking over to the non-fiction section.

You kneel in front of the first bookcase that catches your eye, looking at the unorganized mess of books. If you come into a library, at least have the decency to put the books back in the correct order you think to yourself. You begin to move the books around but figured that it would be easier to take each book off the shelf and put them in correctly one at a time. You knew it was going to be an incredibly long 5 hours.

Shortly after you begin working on your to do list, people of all ages started to flood into the library. The younger children were squealing as they tossed around books that you knew you were going to have to fix, teachers from school came to drop off books they read in their free time, and others arrived just so they could get out of the rain.

Once the first task was done, you moved on to the second, retaping the ripped magazines. Alorie hands you the tape to use, you take it and walk over to the magazine stand. You sigh to yourself as you look at all of the torn pages but it had to get done. You sit in front of the stand and grab one of the magazines, finding the pages that needed to be fixed. Once you had finished that, you flipped back through it to ensure that you hadn’t missed anything. This pattern continued for quite some time with others. You grab the last magazine that laid on the floor, taping the cover. There wasn’t much of wear and tear on the magazine that you could see, but you triple checked each page to be sure.

A few hours had passed, you’ve finished nearly half of the tasks on your to do list and you see a group of little kids running into the library with their parents. You glance up at the clock that hung on the wall and it read 11:42, meaning that it was nearly time for afternoon reading. Every day the library held story hour at noon and at 3:00, you always read for the afternoon group when you were there and Alorie took over the 3:00 group.

You fold the list and slide it in your pocket, greeting the kids and their parents. You grab the book on the display shelf before walking over to the reading corner. While the children and the parents find their spots on the floor, you sit in the chair in front of the group.

“Alright guys, today’s book is If You Gave a Mouse a Cookie. Who’s read this book? Raise your hand as hiiiigh as you can for me!” You announce, over half of the group raise their tiny hands and you smile.

You begin to read the book, other people join the group a little late but they hadn’t missed much since you were only a few pages in. You enjoyed storytelling, especially to smaller kids because it reminded you of when your childhood was good.

After you read the book, Alorie calls the kids over to the group of tables in the middle of the library to color the pages she made copies of that went along with the book. You tidy up the area that you read at, putting back the chair and the book and picking up any trash that was left over.

“I didn’t know that Harrington’s read.” You hear someone say, startling you as your back was turned towards them.

You turn around and see the person who snuck up on you, it was non other than Eddie Munson. He was your brother’s best friend, only a year and a half older than you. He had been at your house numerous times while your parents were out of town, been through insane situations with Steve, he was someone that you shared friends with although you two weren’t incredibly close yourselves.

“Don’t sneak up on people like that.” You breathe out.

“You Harrington’s are so easy to startle.” Eddie snickers.

“Why are you here? I thought you hated the library.” You question as you continue picking up.

“Well you aren’t wrong but I have to get in my volunteer hours if I plan getting out of that hellhole anytime soon.” He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I told him that you had the list!” Alorie mentions across the library.

You nod as you understood, he would basically be shadowing you for the day. You knew he wasn’t much for working, especially when it comes to volunteering for something he had absolutely zero interest in. You take the list from your pocket, looking at the things you had left.

“So you waited until the last second to start your volunteering?” You ask.

“Seems like you did too.” He shrugs, looking around the library.

“Not my fault.” You mumble as you continue looking at your list. “You can go ahead and start with dusting.”

You point him to the cleaning tools, he gives you a look before marching his way behind the Alorie’s desk and grabbing the duster. He takes his sweet time to begin the task you assigned him with but you moved on to organizing and rearranging the fiction section of the library.

As you begin to take the books off of the shelf, Alorie leaves the group of kids and walks over to you.

“So I have a few options for you.” She whispers, confusion written across your face. “About your volunteer time.”

“Oh! Okay?”

“So, you can do 10 hours today, I’ll give you the key to lockup early and all you have to do is come in tomorrow for story hour and I’ll say you did your entire 20 hours.” She proposes. “Or you can just continue to come in each day for a few hours.”

It was a good deal. Normally you’d opt in to come each day for your hours and then some but your parents weren’t home so you could easily do the first option. However, you parents knew to check in with Alorie to see if you were actually where you were supposed to be.

“Alorie-”

“It’s spring break and it’s your senior year. You need a break. I won’t tell if you don’t.” She winks, you grin.

“Clean around and lock up like normal?”

“Exactly. Tell him that goes for him too, I’m feeling generous.” She suggests, nodding her head over to Eddie who finally decided to clean.

You thank her and agree on the first option. It wasn’t abnormal for you to lockup after hours once she had went home, you had a trusted bond with one another. You were basically an employee without pay, which you didn’t mind at all, you enjoyed helping her around the library when you could.

You went back to organizing the bookcases, piling each book on the floor so it would be easier to put them in by authors name and the order in which they go in for one’s that were parts of a series. Eddie continued to clean areas with visible dust around the library for quite some time, eventually leading over to the bookcase that you were currently working on.

“Alorie suggested that we stay for 10 hours today and come in for story hour tomorrow and she’ll sign off that we did our 20 hours.” You mention up at him. “Or you can come in each day and actually do your hours.”

“I’ve got a show tonight.” He declines, glancing down at you while he continues to clean. “Besides, I don’t wanna be in here longer than I have to.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrug. “I’m staying until 8.”

That was the end of the conversation, short and simple. It was unusual for him to not talk as much as normal, he constantly talked at your house or during school. Maybe it was because he was in a library and had some manners? You were unsure.

The second reading group came piling through the doors, most being second and third graders who were obnoxiously noisy and never cleaned up after themselves.

“Quiet, we’re in a library!” Alorie whispers to them, placing her index finger on her lips, the kids copying her body movement.

You place the books in their respective places before getting off of your knees. You walk over to the printer and grab the coloring pages for Alorie, putting them in the middle of the tables with crayons for the kids to color after the book had been read like previous.

“So, do kids just come here to listen to a book?” Eddie asks as you walk back over to the bookcase.

“Most days, yes. Then the older kids have a discussion about the book and color. Some days the library does different educational things, especially when it comes to science.” You explain with your back turned away from him. “For the smaller ones, they just come in for a quick story time and color. The older ones are a lot messier though.”

“I can see that. I’d hate to be you tonight.” He snickers. “What’s the next thing on your list?”

“Let me see.” You hum, pulling out the to do list. “I’ve done most of these already.”

Eddie peers over your shoulder, trying to find the one that has the least amount of work.

“She just got a new shipment of paperback books if you want to put those out.” You suggest and he hums. “I’ll show you where they’re at.”

You motion him to follow you, you go in the back room where there were tons of boxes lined up against the wall and stacked on one another. You open the first box and carry it into the main room, Eddie continues to follow you over to the fiction section. You tell him what order they need to be placed in and where to toss the boxes when he’s done.

Some time had passed, the kids from story hour had finished having their discussion on the book Alorie had read to them and colored.

“I need to know what he’s doing.” Alorie mentions as she pulls the library key out of her purse. “Is he staying longer or coming in each day?”

“He’s leaving.” You explain to her, taking the key in your hand.

“Alright, just be sure that he logs his time correctly and be sure that everything’s locked.” She orders. “Bye sweetie.”

“See you tomorrow.” You smile at her while she walks out of the library.

The two of you continue working on putting the books in the correct spot in silence, the only sounds were the books hitting the shelves and the clinking of his chains.

“It’s 4:00, you know.” You mention after silence, glancing up at the clock. “You can leave.”

“Oh, thanks.” Was all he said before immediately heading out of the doors.

Not even a bye, see you later, do you need any help, nothing. You weren’t surprised, it was Eddie you were talking about here, the guy who only thought of himself. That’s why you often butted heads, he only thought of himself and you thought of everyone else other than yourself. You sigh quietly, unsure if you made the right choice since there was a lot more to do.

Better for it to take a while and have it all be done correctly than incorrect you think to yourself.

You walk over to the radio that was beside the computer and turn it on, flipping through the channels until you’re content with a channel to listen to in order to pass the time.

You take a look at your surroundings, trash was still all over the floor and the tables from the kids. It was going to be a long 4 hours with nobody’s help. You begin to pick up all of the trash and throwing it in the trash can, as well as your to do list since you no longer needed it.

You continue picking up and putting books on shelves, the time ticking excruciatingly slow as you began to grow bored with your tasks. You needed some sort of break so you pick out a VHS tape from the movie cart, popping it into the VHS player. You dimmed the lights, not bothering to draw the curtains since the rain made the sky cloudy and dark as you sit comfortably in a beanbag and begin to watch The Breakfast Club to pass some of the time.

“Seems like you really got a lot done.” You hear a voice boom through the library, jolting you awake.

You weren’t aware of what time it was, what day it was, who was in the library, you hadn’t even known that you fell asleep. You quickly jump up and turn around, your eyes meeting Eddie’s, giving you some sort of relief but also terror since you had fallen asleep without locking the door. If Alorie found out, you’d probably be dead.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout as you march over to the light switch, turning the lights on. “Stop scaring me!”

“Relax, I just forgot to sign out.” He snickers, walking to the desk and putting the time he had originally left.

8:47 read the analog clock. You were asleep for at least 2 hours and still hadn’t got much done at all.

“Ah shit.” You mumble to yourself, quickly popping the VHS tape in the box and putting it back on the cart. “I can’t believe I fell asleep and forgot to lock the door. I still have a ton left to do.”

“Well you should probably get home before anything, it’s supposed to get worse out.” He sighs.

“Yeah, I’ll get to it.” You ramble as you quickly clean up.

“Alright, well I’ve got a gig to get to. Tell your brother I’m coming over later.” He announces, walking backwards out of the door.

Again, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come over for a few hours after Steve was home from work, but you still had to clean when you got home. You hear the sound of his van peel out of the parking lot, you decided to call it a night. Once everything was put away and clean, you head out of the library and lock the door behind you and began your journey home.

You had originally thought that the rain would stop or die down at least but you were horribly wrong. If anything, the rain and wind picked up harder. You didn’t have a hoodie or an umbrella and Steve couldn’t pick you up. It was miserable.

Many cars passed you, some drenching you in the puddles on the street and nobody stopped. You still had 4 more miles to walk in the rain with no end in sight. What started as a walk end up being a full sprint to get home faster. Your legs were beginning to give up on you, you were soaked through your clothes, your shoes were beginning to give you a blister, you were miserable.

You finally see a building with lights on and a few cars surrounding it, the perfect spot for a break for now. You cautiously get to the front door, pulling it open and allowing yourself to walk inside. It was warm and dry but the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flooded in your nose. You take a look around, not many people were inside but it was loud and chaotic and you don’t recognize a single person.

“Y/N?” You hear from across the room and once again there stood Eddie.

Well, you recognized one person.

“You just couldn’t get enough of me, could you?” He snickers, trotting over towards you.

“Just walking home, needed a break.” You explain. “But by the looks of it, I’m not necessarily the type to be welcomed here so I’m gonna head out-”

“Do you need a ride?” He offers, you reluctantly agree and he nods to you. “I’ll be back, you guys just warm up.”

He holds the door open for you, allowing you to step outside and he follows behind. He unlocks the van and gets in the drivers seat, he opens the passenger door from inside and pushes it for you to grab onto. You climb in the seat, the water from your clothes soaking into the velvet texture of the seats.

“Thank you.” You sigh, closing the door behind you.

“Yeah yeah, don’t think this is going to continue happening.” He brushes off as he turns on the ignition and putting the van into gear. “Thought you had a ride?”

You shrug and recline in the passenger seat. It was one thing for the two of you to be alone in the library, but in the car? Incredibly different.

He drives silently, the rain making it near impossible for him to see out of the windshield. You watch outside of the window as he drives down the road, nearing your home. You finally spot your porch light and he pulls into the driveway, you thank him before running out into the rain. You pull out your house keys and stick it in the lock, turning it and opening your front door.

Once you walk inside, you lock the door behind you and kick off your shoes. You run upstairs and peel off your dripping clothes and dry off with a towel before putting on clean pajamas. You’ve never been happier to be so dry in your life.

When you walk down the stairs and into the kitchen, you clean up the stuff your parents had left behind before leaving for the week and all of the dishes. You were growing irritated with how much trash is yours and how much trash is everyone else’s, they never picked up after themselves.

An hour and a half had passed, it was nearly 12 and there was no sign of Steve coming home anytime soon. You knew how crazy the video store would get on spring break but he had been gone all day, your mind was telling you something was wrong but you didn’t want to think about that. You couldn’t stress yourself out over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

A knock on the door catches you off guard and wipes you away from your deep thought. You walk over to the front door and peek outside from the glass and you see Eddie again for what felt like the hundredth time today.

“He’s not home yet.” You mention, holding back the worry that threatened to come out of your throat.

“No worries.” He shrugs, pushing past you and allowing himself in.

If there was one thing that Steve was strict about, it was about you hanging out with his guy friends one on one. The reason behind that was because of the situation that blossomed between you and Tommy before he and Carol were a thing. You and him were introduced by Steve when he would come over to your house nearly every day, you started off as friends yourselves and then you hooked up. After that, it turned to a shit show. You began dating but he cheated on you every single second he could, he told the entire school that you were a slut, he and Steve got into a huge fight. It was a disaster. So now, you couldn’t really hang out with his friends one on one.

Eddie kicks off his shoes and shimmies his jacket off, hanging it on the coatrack before making himself comfortable in your own home. Just like clockwork, the phone rang.

“Hello?” You answer.

“It’s me, a tree blocked off the road so I won’t be home for a while.” Steve says into the receiver.

“Where are you now?”

“Came back to Family Video. The power got backed up by a generator so I’ll be fine. Make sure you get some candles or a flashlight or something in case the power goes out there.”

“Okay. Do you know when you’ll be home?”

“Not a single clue.” Steve hums into the phone. “Alright, I’ll be home later.”

You put the phone up and Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“It was Steve. A tree fell and blocked off the road because of the storm so he won’t be home until later.” You relay and he gives a quiet ah.

You go upstairs and into your parents’ bedroom closet, raiding it for flashlights and candles. You found a single candle in there so you looked in the top of your own closet and found another, two was better than one in case anything were to happen.

You and Eddie sit on opposite sides of the couch, watching the television in silence. It was incredibly awkward as you both sit and wait for Steve, so you excuse yourself to your bedroom.

1:09 am

You lay on your bed watching your own tv for an hour, the booms of the thunder being impossible to ignore as you try to sleep with the background noise. The tv flickers and it turns off, followed by everything else in the house. You groan to yourself with your eyes closed.

You hear footsteps coming closer to your door and you hear Eddie knock quietly. You toss off your blanket and walk over to the door.

“You brought both of the candles up here.” He chuckles when you open the door.

“Shit, sorry.” You apologize, turning around to grab one of the candles.

“You’re fine. Trying to sleep?”

“Yeah but it’s impossible.” You sigh, handing him a candle. “No sign of Steve?”

“None.”

You move past him and walk down the stairs, he follows behind you the best he could in the dark. The only sense of light either of you truly had was the lightening that flashed through the glass windows.

“Well it seems like we’ll be up for the rest of the night.” You mention.

“We get to hangout outside of the library, how cool.” Eddie mockingly gasps, pulling a quick snicker from you. “And I made you laugh? Geez Harrington, I really think you’re beginning to like me.”

“Oh calm down Munson, you made a joke.” You replied, he was taken aback from the use of his last name. He was used to Steve using it but you? That’s different.

“What should we do to pass time?” He queried.

“I don’t know about you, but I plan on reading.” You advise, lighting the candles.

“Reading? Really? You just spent the entire day at the library.”

“Nothing else to really do.” You shrug.

He pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“You live in your parents’ home, Steve throws tons of parties. You have alcohol, a pool, everything!”

“Not sure if the pool is good for right now considering the circumstances outside.” You chuckle.

“Well you know what I mean.” He laughed. “C’mon, live a little.”

You look at him with a brow raised, his eyes begging for some sort of amusement. You knew you weren’t going to win the non-vocal competition so you gave in regardless. You roll your eyes and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka that was stashed away.

You’ve drank together before. Obviously with a larger group, not by yourselves, but you were comfortable enough. Besides, you were bored yourself.

“Here goes nothing.” You smile as you pour yourselves a shot a piece, clinking the glasses together and throwing the alcohol down your throats. “Jesus it never gets easier.”

You were a few shots in a piece, the awkwardness between the two of you quickly diminished. While trying to figure out what to do to help keep you entertained while drinking, you both agreed on a game to know each other a bit better. You ripped up a piece of paper into tiny bits and each of you wrote down different questions for each other to answer.

You both made up the rules, it was almost like truth or dare. One draws a question and if they refuse to answer, they drink. However, if someone draws a question and answers, the other person has to drink. You weren’t great at making up games on the spot, neither was he, but it was something that you would work on.

“Okay, who draws first?” You ask and he thinks.

“Rock paper scissors?” He suggests and you agree immediately.

He lost and had to draw first, excitement was building up in you at the unknown. He closes his eyes and runs his fingers through the tiny folded pieces of paper in the bowl until he lands on one. He pulls it out and opens his eyes, struggling to make out the words on the page.

“What’s is… your favorite song.” He reads aloud. “Run to the Hills, easily.”

He moves the bowl in front of you after you take a drink. You copy him, closing your eyes and roaming your fingers around the pages until you pull one out.

“What’s your biggest regret? That’s a good one.” You think for a moment. “Don’t really have any. Everything happens for a reason.”

“No, that doesn’t count!” He cackles, calling you out. “You have to answer.”

“That is an answer!” You protest with a grin, he shakes his head. “Ughhhh.”

You take another drink of the alcohol in your cup. It was an answer, just not one that he wanted.

“Who was your first kiss? Really? You have lame questions. But if I have to answer, it was Elaine Dotinson.” He snickers, you roll your eyes and take yet another drink of the beverage.

“What was your longest relationship?” You read, your eyes fixating on his face. “What kind of question?”

“Just two people getting to know each other a little better.” He cheeses. “Unless you want to drink again.”

You roll your eyes.

“4 months.” You mumble, you see him open his mouth to say something. “That is an answer, you didn’t ask who it was. Drink up.”

“Why are you so quiet all the time?” He questions after taking a drink.

“That’s not a question from the pile.”

“Forget the pile for a moment, it’s a genuine question.” He presses. “Do you not like being around me or something?”

You pause for a moment and think. The alcohol was beginning to hit you at the moment and so were the questions.

“It’s not that. We just have different interests and we can’t really spend time together to get to know each other. Like, really get to know each other.” You explained.

“Why can’t we?”

“Because you’re Steve’s best friend. I’m the little sister, we’re off limits to each other.”

“Off limits? Aren’t you an adult?”

“Well yeah b-”

“Who makes those limits? You, him, mommy, daddy?” He interrupts, his voice getting quieter with each word.

You can’t reply. You just sit there observing his face with the flickering candle light, his eyes grown soft yet stern.

“If you actually get to know me, you’ll learn that we have more of the same interests than you might think.”

Before you could attempt to respond, the power comes back on and the phone immediately rings. You both look at each other until you answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“It’s me again. Listen, I’m just going to stay over at Nancy’s for the night since I cant get home. I’ll be home tomorrow, just be sure to lock the doors before you go to sleep.”

“Okay, be safe. I’ll see you.” You say, telling him goodbye and answering the phone.

You turn back around and face Eddie.

“Well, seems like you get Steve’s room tonight. He can’t get home so he’s staying with Nancy for the night.” You voice, sitting back in your spot on the floor. “Shall we continue?”

“We shall.”

3:18 am. The two of you continued your little game, asking questions that weren’t even on the pieces of paper, nearly emptying the vodka bottle and everything was beginning to spin.

You had gotten to know each other pretty well within the past few hours to say the least. He told you about his goals of being a rockstar after graduation, about his parents, his interests. He learned about your relationship between you and your parents, what you enjoyed to do in your free time, why you and Alorie had a close relationship. You developed a friendship.

“Jesus, don’t fall backwards.” You hear Eddie laugh as he follows you up the stairs.

“‘m tryin’!” You whine playfully, slowing crawling up the stairs as the room spins around you.

You were exhausted and the alcohol didn’t help either so you opted in to going to bed. Eddie helped you up the stairs to ensure that you wouldn’t fall and hurt yourself, he held you up as you tripped over your own feet and walked you into your room.

With your bedside lamp being the only light in the room, you managed to stumble your way to your bed and practically face plant into it. You laugh as you continue to be dizzy from the room spinning, Eddie lifts your legs and pushes you even further onto the bed to prevent you from falling out.

“Thank you.” You mumble with a smile on your face as you roll onto your back, looking up at Eddie.

You see his smile, his curly hair partly covering his face as he looks down at you.

Fuck, he’s cute. Even though you were drunk, you could still appreciate beauty when you saw it.

“Anytime.” He smiles, planting a playful kiss to your forehead. “Now I’m going into Steve’s room, night!”

“Night.” You whisper back, watching as he exits out of your bedroom and closes your door.

You couldn’t think he was cute in that sort of way, it was frowned upon. That was your brothers best friend and you two had not really gotten to know each other within the past few hours.

Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him. Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him. Don’t develop a crush or feelings for him you thought to yourself. It was only the alcohol, that’s all it was.

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside of your window, the sun beats through your window blinds and into your eyes. You barely open your eyelids, your head pounding from the activities from the night before. Was Eddie still asleep? Was he even there at all?

You glance over at the clock on your nightstand, 10:45 am. You pry yourself out of bed and use the bathroom before quietly sneaking down the hall and into Steve’s room. You peak through the crack in the door and see Eddie asleep on his back, his arm covered his eyes to prevent the sunlight coming in. He was shirtless and your eyes wandered a little too long for comfort so you rip your own attention away.

You walk the opposite way down the hall and down the stairs, each creak from your footsteps sounding like the loudest sound on earth. You stroll into the kitchen Rand grab the ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet, popping a few in your mouth before washing it down with a glass of water. You clean up the mess that you and Eddie had made last night and you toss out the bottle of vodka that you two had finished.

“I can help you out.” You hear Eddie’s raspy voice boom from the top of the staircase.

“Oh it’s fine, I’ve got most of it thrown away.” You mumble quietly, trying not to make your headache any worse.

You steal a look at Eddie and the butterflies in your stomach from the night before were still there. You cursed yourself mentally, telling yourself that it was wrong, but you still found him attractive.

“You okay?” He questions once he finally stood in front of you. Fuck, you forgot to look away from him.

“Y-Yeah! Just this hangover.” You shake off, turning your attention back onto the trash in the living room.

“So I was thinking,” He announces, stretching with a slight yawn. “We can go back for your story hour today and then I can show you Skull Rock like we talked about yesterday.”

You were incredibly confused, not remembering the conversation that transpired between the two of you that he was talking about. You give him a confused look and he snickers.

“Last night you were telling me that you wanted to venture out more, get out of the shell that your parents shoved you in. You didn’t think Skull Rock was a real place and told me you wanted me to take you today.” He reminded you, some of the conversation trickling back into your consciousness.

“Oh, yeah! I totally forgot about that.” You laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Stop asking me that!” He playfully shouts. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked you.”

You look up at the clock, it was 11:15. You had 45 minutes to get ready and be at the library. Eddie cleans up around the house while you run into your room. You roam around in your closet for an outfit, deciding on a plain white blouse and torn black jeans. You didn’t bother styling your hair so you tossed it up in a ponytail and quickly ran back downstairs.

“Where’s your shirt?” You ask Eddie as he ties his shoes.

“I’ve got more in the van.” He shrugs, you didn’t say a word but nodded instead.

You make sure you lock the door behind you both and you get into the van. Eddie grabs a shirt from the back and throws it on before starting the van and pulling out into the street.

There were tree limbs scattered everywhere on the road, lawns were flooded from the storm, it was still cold out. You both pull into the library parking lot and he finds an open spot, you walk inside and dry your shoes on the rug before walking in even further. Alorie looks over at you both with a smile.

“Surprised you could make it here!” She beams. “You’re right on time too.”

“I woke up a tad late.” You snicker, pulling up a chair to the reading center.

“Eddie, right?” Alorie questions.

“Yes ma’am, that’s me.” He says, walking up to her.

“Well, Eddie. I know that Ms. Y/N here told you about the deal we made yesterday but you couldn’t stay the whole time, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.” He talks lowly, aware of the readers in the library.

You continue to get everything situated for reading hour, grabbing Chicka Chicka Boom Boom off of the shelf as they continue their conversation.

“Of course if that’s okay with her.” You hear Alorie mention, talking to you.

“Sorry I didn’t hear what you said.” You say.

“I told him that if he helps you with story hour, I’ll stick up for him too saying that he did his full 20 hours.” She suggests, Eddie gives you a small smile.

“I don’t mind!” You agree. “You wanna help with cutting out the letters?”

You hand him a pair of scissors and tracings of different letters of the alphabet that you created the day before, he takes them in his hands and gets busy while the kids come flooding in through the library doors. You and Eddie share a glance, you could tell that the kids were already beginning to get on his nerves.

“Ms. Y/N!” One of the toddlers call out as he runs your direction.

“Hi sweetheart, go find your spot on the floor with your mommy.” You wink to him after he gives you a hug.

Once everyone had settled in, you take your seat in front of the group and begin to read to them. You glance up to make sure Eddie was cutting out all of the letters once you were showing the kids the pictures, he has a slight grin on his face as he listens to you read off of the pages. The butterflies were coming back stronger and harder. You shake it off and begin reading once more when one of the kids asked you to flip the page. You finally finished the book and the kids wanted to go color, they had extremely short attention spans.

“Mr. Munson, you ready for them?” You ask across the library, he raises a brow first.

“Ready Ms. Harrington!” He answers, the kids immediately rush over to him.

Alorie takes over the coloring activity, thanking the both of you and releasing you to enjoy the rest of your spring break. You both walk outside, the smell of fresh rain making you feel refreshed before you jump back into the van.

“Skull rock?” Eddie asks, turning the ignition.

“Sounds like a plan.” You responded.

He drives onto the town road and has his radio blaring, the loud music mixed in with the headache you still had wasn’t your version of fun. He sings along to the lyrics as he continues to drive down winding roads in the middle of nowhere, eventually coming to a complete stop right at the edge of the woods.

“Yeah, this isn’t sketchy at all.” You breathe out, looking deep into the trees but you couldn’t see a thing.

“You wanted an adventure.” He shrugs, hopping out of the van. “Let’s go.”

After a moment of hesitation you follow him into the trees. The perfect ending of a horror movie you think to yourself. You duck underneath branches and move tree limbs out of your way.

“I think I may be regretting this decision, you know.” You announce as you follow behind him. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

He pauses for a moment and looks around at the trees.

“….Yes.” Eddie vocalizes, a slight unsure tone in his voice.

You immediately knew that he was going to get you both lost, however, it was all a journey. You spent for what felt like an hour walking around in circles.

“We’re lost.” You sigh to him and he shakes his head.

“It should be rightttt… here!” He shouts, bringing you to a rock. “See, maybe you should have more trust me in me.”

You look up at the rock, not entirely sure of what you were expecting but it was just a rock. Eddie jumps on top and looks down at you with his feet swinging in the air. He pats an empty spot beside him as an invitation.

You remember the words he told you last night: live a little. With that tiny push, you crawl your way up the rock and place yourself right beside him. You look out into the trees, the windchill sending a shiver down your spine.

The reason he came to the rock often was for the peace like you with the library, it was his escape away from all of the other chaos that Hawkins had to offer. As you both sit there in each other’s company while being completely silent, the rain began again.

“Ah shit.” Eddie hisses as he feels the rain beating down on him.

“Just great.” You huff, looking up at the trees.

Eddie climbs off of the rock and helps you down as well. His original plan was to walk all the way back to the van but the rain got harder, so the both of you sit comfortably with the rock as your source of shelter temporarily.

“Well, cross this off of your bucket list.” He laughs, his back pressed against one side of the rock as he faces you. “You wanna smoke?”

He pulls out a baggie from his jacket with rolled blunts and bits of weed, hanging it in front of you. He saw the sparkle in your eyes when he held the bag in front of you, almost full of curiosity and excitement with a hint of fear.

“I don’t bite and it won’t either.” He promises, his voice quieter.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?” You joke around to keep the situation lighthearted.

“Just trying to keep us entertained while it quite literally rains on our parade.” He cheeses. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You thought for a moment. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Well, probably a lot, but you wanted to slowly creep away from the goody two shoe student that your parents and peers sought you out to be. What better way to explore additional perks and interests than to explore it all?

“I’ve just never smoked before.” You speak up, he laughs at first until he realizes you’re being serious.

“Wait, seriously? Your brother buys shit from me all the time and you’ve never dabbled in it a smidge?” He interrogates, you laugh a light ‘no’.

Without hesitation, Eddie pulls out one of the blunts from the baggie and observes it, making sure it’s rolled tight and perfect for your first ever smoke session. He gives you a look to make sure that you wanted to and once he had your approval, he sticks it between his lips and lights the end. He drags in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before exhaling. The smell alone was horrid but you hoped that it would be worth it.

“So you’re going to hold it like this,” He teachers, wrapping your fingers around it snugly. “Bring it up to your lips and inhale. You’ve smoked a normal cigarette, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Inhale just like that, just be sure you hold it in for as long as you can stand it. Then you just exhale and enjoy it.” His voice was rich as he instructed you.

You did exactly what he told you. You pull the blunt to your lips, sucking in a deep breath as your lungs ache once the smoke hit them. You hold for a few seconds and exhale, coughing obnoxiously as the smoke is released.

“You alright?” Eddie checks once your coughing had died down, you give him a thumbs up while your eyes water. “Yeah first time’s rough but it gets easier.”

“How will I know I’m high?” You ask him, handing the blunt back.

“Oh you’ll know, trust me.” He winks, inhaling the smoke.

This pattern of back and forth goes on for a while, the rain not giving a hint of ending in sight. You felt good, everything felt light and relaxing, you’ve never felt this calm. He wasn’t wrong, you knew the moment it hit you that you were high.

Less than 24 hours ago you were doing volunteer work with him with hardly any words being shared between the both of you. Less than 12 hours ago you were getting to know each other better and becoming friends. Now you’re in the middle of the woods with him getting high for the first time.

“This is nice.” You sigh to yourself, relaxing against the ground as you bask in your high.

“Feeling it, aren’t ya?”

“Oh yeah.” You snicker. “To think that we barely knew a thing about each other yesterday and now we’re here.”

“I know, crazy how shit like that works.” Eddie chuckles. “You’re nothing like your brother.”

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good I believe.” He mentions casually, playing with a rock in his hand. “It was easier getting to know you. Not much of a total asshole, humble for the most part, cute.”

He just leaves it at the last word, cute. You couldn’t tell if it was the high that made you blush or his words but you couldn’t shake the butterflies that had lingered all day. You laugh at his compliments in an endearing way, burying your face in your hands.

“So what are your plans for the rest of spring break?”

“Not too sure.” You sigh with a shrug. “Yourself?”

“Well I’m glad you ask!” He chirps, sitting up straight. “I’ll be doing different adventures with you.”

“Eddie-”

“Ah ah, live a little, remember?” He reminds you. “I won’t do anything that will hurt you. I promise.”

You’ve heard that same promise before from Tommy but that wasn’t exactly true. There were multiple reasons not to trust anyone, your parents being the first people to break your trust long ago and everyone else seemed followed along. When you begin to live, you learn to trust.

“Fine.” You agree after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “What do you have in mind?”

“We’ll figure it out once we figure it out.” He beams, gently slapping your knee. “But for now, what do you think about getting back to the van? I don’t think the rain plans on stopping and it’s only 3:26, we’ve got more to do.”

You both crawl out from under the rock and run through the trees, branches slapping against you, leaving wet marks on your shirt and jeans while the rain falls on your head. You laugh when Eddie trips over his own feet and lands on his stomach so he grabs your ankle in revenge, making you fall right beside him. You make an audible oof as your stomach hits hits the muddy ground, mud splashing all over your torso and your face.

“Who’s laughing now?” Eddie teased and pokes his tongue out.

“Oh shut up.” You laugh loudly, grabbing Eddie’s hand as he assists you to your feet.

You brush yourself off the best you can before you both continue your walk through the trees. You find the clearing and spot his van, making a run for it and hopping in the passenger’s seat.

Eddie begins to drive down the road, coming up with new things that you haven’t done. He pulls into a gravel road and the familiarity comes around, you were in the trailer park that Max lives in. You were silently praying that she wouldn’t be home so no red flags were potentially raised about you being with Eddie.

He pulls into a driveway and parks beside a black truck, he turns off the ignition and opens the driver door. You glance over at Max’s trailer and see no trace of her which gave you the go ahead of following him inside.

The both of you quietly walk through the door, you see an older man sleeping on the recliner that sat in front of the flickering television. Eddie holds his index finger in front of his mouth as a sign to not speak, you oblige and follow him down the hall into the bedroom.

“This is mi casa.” He announces quietly once the door was shut. “That was also my Uncle Wayne asleep in there.”

You connected some of the dots about what he told you about himself last night. Wayne had been granted custody of Eddie before he was 5, his mom had passed away and his dad was constantly running from the cops or was in jail. Since it wasn’t expected that Wayne get custody, he had to give up the only room in the trailer and gave it to Eddie and he would resort to the recliner.

“You have a lot of stuff.” You point out as you take a look around his room.

“Yeah, I tried cleaning up but it got cluttered because of my collections.” He smiles almost nervously.

His room was filled with things he was passionate about, majority of it being music and D&D things. He had posters covering nearly every part of the walls, clothes piled up on a desk and in the closets. It wasn’t organized but you enjoyed the chaos. He throws you a shirt and you catch it in your hands.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to be in muddy clothes all day, you can wear that for now.”

“You’re very considerate.” You smile at him.

He grins at your statement and rips his dirty shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and throws on a clean one. He walks into the bathroom to allow you to change in privacy. You pull your shirt over your head and immediately cover yourself back up with his shirt, it smelled like laundry detergent mixed with cigarettes and weed. You’ve grown used to the smell of him over the past day and it was almost comforting.

“You still have dirt on your face.” Eddie calls attention to your face, his finger brushes against your nose.

You try to wipe it off without looking, missing the spots of dried mud entirely. He tries to guide you but you continued to miss it, he held in his laugh at your failed attempts.

“Here, let me get it.” He mutters, taking matters into his own hands.

You look up at him and agree to his help, his rough fingertips scrape the side of your face. His eyes flicker from the dirt on your cheek and nose to your eyes, your breath catches in your throat once you lock eyes.

Suddenly he was even prettier than before. His big brown eyes glimmered in the sunlight that peaked through his window, his lips glistened from the chapstick he put on in the bathroom, it suddenly felt like you were floating. His finger remained on your face, not moving but just staying there as the two of you take in each other’s features. No words were being spoken, no movements, just the two of you taking in one another.

“Eddie, I’m heading out.” You hear from the living room, knocking you both back into reality.

“Oh, uh alright!” Eddie shouts back, glancing back at the door and removing his hand. “I may be out when you get home!”

“That’s alright, just be safe and don’t get arrested again.” Wayne bellows.

You hear his footsteps and the door slam shut behind him. The roar of the engine rattled the windows and you hear it get quieter and quieter the further he got down the gravel road. You were taking in Eddie’s space, it was different being the guest in his home but you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy being somewhere new.

“Don’t get attested again?” You draw attention to Wayne’s statement. “You seemed to have missed that chapter.”

“Oh it was nothing.” He waves off. “Just got caught doing some graffiti when I was 17, no charges were actually filed.”

He lays back on his bed and sighs.

“You can sit, I don’t bite unless you ask me to.” He winks to you, moving over so you had some room.

Oh god. Is he flirting? It definitely feels like he’s flirting with you. Maybe you were overthinking it and he was being friendly? It was hard to tell with him.

“Is your high wearing off?” He blurts out a few minutes after you got comfortable in your new spot.

“A little.” You replied, sitting criss cross.

With that answer, he pulls out a baggie of weed from his bedside table and a box of wraps. You weren’t ignorant to weed, you just hadn’t tried it until earlier but you knew what things were. You watch as he grabs the rolling tray and sits it on the bed beside him. He grabs bits of the drug in his fingers and places it in the paper. You watch as he rolled the fresh blunt, licking the paper gently to ensure that none would fall out.

He plants a kiss on it like it was the most delicate thing in existence before placing it between his lips. He lights the end of it and inhales deeply, lifting his head to the ceiling as his blows it out, his neck was on full display for you. His hand reaches out, extending the blunt to you. You didn’t hesitate for a moment, you immediately grab it and pull it up to your face, dragging in a deep breath.

It was true when he said that it’ll get easier the more you do it, it didn’t sting your lungs nearly enough like it did a few hours before. You feel his eyes on you whilst you breathe out and hand him the blunt back. You continue passing it back and forth to one another, that relaxed feeling creeping back to you. You eventually lie down on your stomach facing Eddie, making it even easier to pass it between you two.

“My mouth is so dry.” You complain with a laugh. “But this is nice. I like hanging out with you.”

“I enjoy hanging out with you too.” He chuckles, tilting his head to the side after the blunt was finished. “You look good in my shirt.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile at the now obvious flirting. While you try to hide your appreciation for the compliment, you look around his room and spot an eyeliner pencil.

“Can I do your eyeliner?” You question, suddenly changing the subject.

“Go for it.” He approved.

You get off of the bed and waltz over to his desk, you grab the eyeliner in your hands and walk back towards him. You wiggle your eyebrows in a joking manner while he continues to lay on his back.

“I didn’t really think about this.” You mutter, trying to figure out a good spot for you to sit as you do his makeup.

“Let me sit up a little.” Eddie announced, scooting himself to a halfway seated position.

You sit in front of him and bring his face towards you in your hands, it still wasn’t easy to do his eyeliner without poking him in the eye. He noticed your difficulty and grabbed your legs, scooting you into his lap a little bit.

“This okay?” He verifies.

“Much better.” You smile sweetly, grasping his face in your palm again to guide him to you.

You order him to look up and he does just that as you cautiously place the eyeliner on his waterline. His hands sit comfortably on your back to hold himself up and prevent you from moving suddenly. You focus on the makeup not getting in his eye and he seemed to be focused on something else.

“Your lips are chapped.”

His statement immediately makes you lick your lips to give them some sort of moisture but it was no use.

“Yeah well I have cottonmouth and it isn’t helping.” You mumble, continuing to focus on his face.

“You need chapstick?”

“You gonna stop talking so I can finish this?” You remark lightly, looking at his face and seeing amusement written all over it.

“No, I think you need chapstick.”

His eyes flicker up to yours and to your lips, he quickly closes the gap between the two of you. You feel a sense of shock at first when you feel his lips pressed against yours, unsure if it was actually happening or if you had gotten too high and you were making it up.

He pulled away, his pupil blown once you make eye contact with him again. The feelings that you had felt all day, all of the butterflies, anxiety, excitement had hit you all at once again.

“I-I’m sorry.” He breathes after a moment, studying the expression on your face. “I didn’t know-”

You interrupt him by stealing another kiss once the reality of him kissing you first had set in. The eyeliner rolled out of your touch as you place your hands firmly on his face with your lips pressed against his. It felt right, almost like you’ve done this hundreds if not thousands of times before.

Truthfully, you had the biggest crush on him when he began to come around a year ago, though you pushed it away the best you could. You never stayed around him long enough or talked to him because you didn’t want him to find out about your attraction, but now it made you wonder how long he felt the way whatever this was.

“Whoa.” Eddie exhaled once you pulled away slowly.

“Um, yeah. Whoa.” You mimic, sliding out of his lap.

Your faces were a bright shade of red and you couldn’t contain your grins. You were able to clearly see your eyeliner job on him and he looked even that much cuter.

“So uh,” He clears his throat. “What adventure you wanna go on now?”

“What time is it?” You ask, he looks down at the watch on his wrist.

“8:30” He answered.

“The next adventure would probably be getting home before anyone suspects anything if Steve’s home.”

You saw the slight disappointment in his face but he wouldn’t make you stay longer. You both got off of his bed and walk into the living room, putting on your shoes and lacing them so you could get out of the door.

You wait for him in the passenger’s seat of the van, not sure of what was taking him so long to get outside. You glance in the rearview mirror and see Max and Lucas talking by the picnic tables, you curse yourself under your breath and you finally spot Eddie coming. He climbs in the driver’s seat, you sink farther in the passenger’s seat as he drives in hopes that they wouldn’t catch you.

“Small change of plans in our adventure.” Eddie says. “Forgot my dice at the school, I have to get them before someone throws them away.”

“Nobody’s there.”

“Well, we’ll sneak in.” He suggests nonchalantly. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared!” You argue with a fake offended tone which made him laugh. “You know where they’re at?”

“Yep and I know exactly how we’ll get in.”

You didn’t ask any questions nor did you expect any answers for the time being, you were in for whatever he had planned. He drives through town, telling you different stories about the rise and falls of Hellfire and how easy it was to manipulate the other characters just by dice. Eventually he pulls into the school’s parking lot and drives to the back, parking as close as he could possibly get to a window.

“You got it?” He whispers below you as you crawl inside of a window.

“I think my jeans are stuck!” You whisper shout from above him, unable to move any further than where you were.

Your belt loop got snagged on a hook and you didn’t want to rip your new jeans but you had to get in and out of there.

“Push me!” You order, your feet kicking a tad in the air.

You feel his hands on your legs as he pushes you inside, you topple on the floor, letting out a silent ‘ow’ when you hit your head on the hard tile. You brush yourself off and move out of the way as Eddie jumps up, clinging onto the windowsill and pulling himself inside. He wastes no time to find where he had left the dice.

“It’s so dark.” Your voice echos down the hall, hardly being able to see Eddie’s own shadow.

“Just follow me.” He orders.

You keep quiet and follow him to the best of your abilities, finally reaching a classroom door. He opens the door quietly and walks inside, inching the corner of the room to a closet. You hear him pick the lock of the closet and the creak of the door opening was practically deafening. He walks inside and flips on a light, revealing where he held Hellfire. He looks around everywhere for the dice and they were nowhere to be found. You weren’t aware that he held Hellfire in the drama class’s prop closet until that moment, but it would explain a lot.

“Aha!” You hear him shout in a celebratory tone.

“Who’s there?” You hear another voice shout from down the hall.

You and Eddie immediately look at each other with a moment of panic until he mouths run. You both break out into a sprint, he grabs your hand so you don’t fall behind. The footsteps of the other person could be heard following you. You find the way you came in and jump out of the window, your ankles burning as you land on the hard ground and Eddie follows shortly after.

“Go, go, go!” He shouts to you, making you run for the van.

Once you were in the van and the coast was clear after he’d driven off, you burst out into a fit of laughter. The adrenaline from escaping and your high runs through your veins and he smiles when he sees that you had a blast. You were finally to your last adventure of the night, home.

He drives into the quiet section of your neighborhood and finally pulls into your driveway. Surprisingly Steve hadn’t made it home yet, but he usually came home super late when your parents were out of town. You both sit in the driveway for a few minutes in silence.

“Thank you for everything today.” You smile. “Do you wanna come in for a bit?”

He didn’t answer verbally, instead he turned off the ignition and pulled the keys out. You took it as a yes so you jump out and he followed you inside. There was no sign of Steve even stopping by the house, everything was exactly how you and Eddie left it that morning.

You go upstairs with Eddie behind you and you allow him inside of your room, closing the door to give him access to your entire space. You turn on your lamp and turn off the ceiling light, giving your eyes a moment to relax from the soft light. You lay on your bed with your face towards the ceiling, he copies you and lays the exact same way.

“I’ve gotta say, you didn’t disappoint me today, Harrington.” He says quietly.

“You didn’t disappoint me either, Munson.” You acknowledged, turning your head to face him.

He smiles and inches his face closer to yours, almost testing the waters like he hadn’t kissed you an hour prior.

“Do I need more chapstick?” You tease, he smirked.

“I believe so.”

The gap was finally closed again. He tasted like a mixture of weed and cigarettes, it was quickly becoming your favorite taste. His lips were soft against yours, your eyes flutter closed as the kiss lingers. What started off as a few small pecks transitioned to something more.

His lips move swiftly against yours, almost cautious as if he was worried that you might back away. You put more pressure against his lips, which signaled him that you weren’t backing away. He experiments a little bit by sliding his tongue against your bottom lip, you open your mouth to allow access to him.

His tongue slides into your mouth, clashing against yours without a fight. You couldn’t get enough of him, he sits up and hovers over you, not moving his lips from yours. You spread your legs to allow him to sit comfortably as he continues to kiss you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly which made a slight groan come out of his throat. You began to get wet just from the sound he made, the kiss growing needier from both parties.

You feel his hard cock press against you from his jeans while your tongues intertwine. His hand creeps up your shirt and lands on the soft fabric of your bra, squeezing your breast. His like trail from your lips to your cheek and down your neck, peppering small kisses to your exposed skin. You sigh in pleasure when he sucks the tender sweet spot right below your ear, leaving behind a purple bruise that would be hard to hide.

He pulls away from your body for a moment, tossing his shirt to the side of your room before helping you do the same. You reveal your black bra but you quickly reach behind you, unclasping it and throwing it to the rest of the clothes.

“Jesus.” Eddie groans deeply as he sees your tits for the first time, it was so much better than he had imagined.

He pushed you back down, making you bounce a little on your back as you grin. He looked at you with so much need and desire it was unbearable. He slides out of this jeans and quickly begins to work on the button and zipper of your jeans, leaving you in your red laced underwear. Your eyes fixate on his hard cock through his underwear, your mouth practically watering, but you knew you didn’t have much time.

“Steve should be on his way, yeah?” Eddie breathes from above you, you nod. “Better make this quick.”

He lifts your hips a little and he slides your underwear down your legs, sucking in a deep breath when he sees your wet cunt glistening in the light.

“Fuuuuck.” He draws out, “So pretty for me.”

His face hovers over your cunt, observing the slick you had collected within the past few minutes. He kisses your thighs, going up further and diving straight into your cunt. His tongue licks a broad stripe from your opening to your clit, you let out a soft mewl at the sensitive sensation.

Part of your brain was fighting with you, saying it was wrong because you hadn’t really known him for long and he was your brothers best friend, but the other side knew that it felt too good to bother fighting.

“Oh shit.” You gasp quietly while his tongue moves circles around your clit.

You swore he was some sort of professional, maybe even a pornstar, just by the way his tongue danced on your cunt. You hadn’t expected him to know exactly what he was doing because of the track record he has for relationships. Maybe he hooked up with girls after his shows at this hideout? Maybe girls from school? You didn’t care enough in the moment to figure it out, you’d ask him at a later time.

His lips latch around your sensitive bud and he sucks gently, releasing a moan from your throat and your fingers cling to his hair. You give an experimental tug on his hair, a guttural groan comes out of his mouth and it buzzes against your clit. You let out a moan at the extra sensation, his eyes meet you as his mouth keeps its place on your clot.

“You taste so good, baby.” He compliments after he pulls away. “Would love to taste you more but it’s only a matter of time until Steve gets home.”

He crawls back up to you and pecks your lips again, your fingernails rake against his torso. You reach to the side and open the bedside drawer, pulling out a book and Eddie immediately looks at you confused. You open it a little halfway through and pull out a condom, throwing the book to the side as you hand it to him.

“I honest to god had no clue where this was going.” He snickers, grabbing the condom.

“Well that was always my hiding spot for shit that I didn’t want my parents to find.” You explained with a grin.

He smirks before sliding out of his boxers, his cock on complete display for you to see and you were aching for him even more. He opens the foil with his teeth, spitting it into the floor and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

He slots himself between your legs, grabbing the base of his cock and swiping it between your folds, teasing you with a smug look on his face.

“Don’t be mean.” You whine with a pout, he mocks your pout.

“Aw am I being mean sweetheart?” He mocks. “If you ask me, I think I’m being pretty nice.”

“This isn’t called being nice.” You shake your head, he smirks.

“Oh I’m not being nice?” Eddie tuts, pushing his mushroom tip into you.

You whimper as he begins to stretch you out already.

“From the sounds you’re making, it seems like I’m being pretty damn nice if you ask me.” He chuckles, pulling his tip out of you.

“Please.” You plead, a spark in his eye was very noticeable when he hears you beg for him.

“Please what?” He pushes, a smirk spread widely across his face. “Oh, you want me to fuck you, hm?”

You couldn’t speak, you just nodded.

“I don’t know sweet girl, the thought of me fucking you senseless while your brother’s home is enticing.” He hums. “Maybe make you wait a little longer, have him wondering where we’re at while I’m deep inside you.”

His tip is pushed into you again, another whence being pulled from you body. It was absolute torture to wait like this but you were eating it up. You just needed him right then and there.

“I’m feeling quite generous, though.” His voice is deep and low as he pushes himself into you even further.

He sinks into you lower and lower until he finally reaches the hilt. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure as he stretched you out, he felt way bigger than he looked which was saying something because he was massive. He draws his hips back before slamming into you, causing you to cry out. He looks down at you to see if you were fine, you flash him a grin to let him know that you were perfectly okay.

His thrusts were slow and deep at first but once you had adjusted to his size, he picked up the pace. His hands grip onto your hips, his fingertips leaving behind bruises while his cock repeatedly hits your cervix.

“Fucking Christ baby, you’re doing so well for me.” He grits, watching himself slide in and out of you.

His hair and body is drenched in sweat as he fucks into you deeply, your moans blend with the sounds of Eddie’s grunts and your body crashing against his. Your fingernails sinks into his back, he pulls you even closer and lifts your legs slightly for even deep penetration. He locks eyes with you, your mouth parts slightly and your eyebrows furrow as his dick continues its hard pattern in and out of your cunt.

“Oh g-god Eddie, right there!” You cry out, your legs already beginning to shake while his thrusts continue.

His grunts grow louder and louder with each thrust, his eyes never leave yours unless it’s to look at himself gliding in and out of you. You ramble his name over and over like it was your personal prayer to god, you weren’t able to get enough of him. You were beyond addicted to him at this point like he was your lifeline. His thrusts begin to falter as he gets closer to his climax, you would be lying if you said you weren’t nearly there yourself.

“You look so beautiful being split open from my cock like this.” He growls, his harsh grip tightening on your hips. “You like when I fuck you like this? Hm?”

“Y-yes!” You squeal, your climax quickly approaching.

“Wonder what your brother would do if he found out.” He snickers, his balls repeatedly slapping your skin while his cock is buried deep within you. “What would Steve think about his little sister being fucked senseless by me?”

You couldn’t answer, no words were able to escape your lips, only the sound of your moans could be heard. He pushed for an answer, his hips snapping into you harshly only made it harder to answer.

“Oh my god Eddie!” You scream as you clench around him.

Your eyes roll to the back of your skull when your climax finally hits you. Your toes curl as your back arches off of the bed, a wave of pleasure floods through your body and you see sparks. Your legs shake uncontrollably while he continues to fuck into you, his climax quickly building up at the sight and feeling of your orgasm crashing through you. He tried to hold it back but he couldn’t, his hips slowly rut into you while he works his way through his own orgasm, hot white ropes of cum filling the rubber he still had inside of you.

He cautiously pulled out of you whilst you were both still excruciatingly sensitive because of your orgasms. He rolls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can that say in the corner of your room and cleans himself off before slowly putting his items of clothing on. Once you caught your breath and your body relaxed you put on a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas. He flashes you a grin and presses a kiss to your lips, you kiss him back immediately with a smile.

Just like clockwork you hear the front door opening and the sound of shoes walking into the living room. You and Eddie share a quick glance before trying to come up with something on the spot as an excuse for why he was in your room since you knew whoever it was had seen his van in the driveway.

“Quick, had me that screwdriver.” He points at the edge of your closet while he kneels in front of your bedroom door.

You do exactly what he tells you, handing him the screwdriver but unsure as to what he was doing. You fix you hair to make it lay over your shoulders to conceal the hickey he had left on your neck. You hear footsteps and walking up the stairs and come to a complete stop in front of your door.

“That should work better for you, don’t have to worry about it falling off of the hinges.” Eddie grunts, tightening a screw on your door.

“Thanks, I have no clue what happened.” You play along.

Eddie gets off of the floor and opens the door, revealing Steve standing in the hallway looking confused and almost concerned. You smile to Steve and thank Eddie for “fixing” your door.

“Everything okay?” Your brother questions, standing there with a hand on his hip.

“Yeah, my door just got too loose and fell I suppose.” You shrug.

“Uh, yeah. Alright then.” Steve states, his eyebrows still furrowed and he shakes his head. “Still plan on helping out during the party?”

“Do I ever say no?” Eddie chuckles. “See you around, Harrington.”

You nod graciously and they walk down the stairs, Eddie glances behind him for a moment and gives you a wink, the butterflies coming back again. You close your door and the day finally sinks in.

What have you gotten yourself into?

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie st4 #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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intriga-hounds · 4 months

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some updates

i’ve been really busy lately. so busy i don’t really engage online a whole lot anymore. i feel pretty disconnected from dogdom in general, but also from the silken world. then again, every time i dip my toe back in, i just think, “oh yuck.”

work has been going well, but i’ve been so stressed about making things go well that my hair is falling out and my health continues to be poor. planning on seeing a dermatologist and hopefully getting more exercise back into my life soon. honestly everything is going really well except my body finding new ways to let me down lmao

planning on breeding ponzu mid spring, and i’m determined to make that a source of joy instead of more stress. 😌 she has appointments with three different vets next month to get things rolling: regular vet for titers/vaccine updates, repro vet for consultation, and our sports vet to get her fat n buff before her pregnancy. i’ve been revisiting avidog and puppy culture and myra’s books among other things, plus just enjoying my good girl. with @pippindot’s help, we landed our first choice stud and i’m very very excited about the temperaments that i know will come out of this pairing.

baz is excelling at nose work. his instructor thinks very highly of him and said he has been progressing “by leaps and bounds.” he loves it and it is a fantastic outlet for him. due to his severe temperament issues, bazzy’s world has continuously gotten smaller the past three years, and i’m thrilled that with nose work, we’ve managed to make it a little bigger.

sivi is feeling a bit left out, so he’s coming to work with me on friday while i finish grading finals and cleaning up my classroom. he’ll get to do a few nose work hides and do a big sprint on the baseball field, but best of all, he’ll get me all to himself for the day.

as for ollie, i am missing him. i still go to let him out every morning and he isn’t there. i picked up his ashes today, so it finally feels permanent. luckily, caring for him to a ripe old age, plus knowing with certainty i made the right choice has made things easier.

i am sooooo ready for a break. this will be the first time i have no grading, planning, or presenting to do since august!!!!!!!

#sivi #7 years #teaching #text

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undeadcannibal · 11 months

Text

Summary: Subspace headcanons of Task Force 141!

Pairing: Price/Gaz/Ghost/Soap/Reader

Genre: Smut, headcanons

Warnings: Subspace, slight(?) pet play content as well ( they refer to you as pup every so often, whoops), rough oral sex, rimming (female receiving), multiple partners, ‘nsft’ content, AFAB reader, no use of y/n, spoiler free, not beta read

A/N: *tosses this into the trenches* Listen... I’ve no excuse for this over than it’s very self-indulgent. Don’t judge me. Or do. Whatever floats your boat. I definitely got carried away with this and I apologize lmao. Regardless, I hope you enjoy! ( gif credit: xxx )

So, I couldn’t get the idea of Price asking you - his submissive - if you’d be open to the idea of letting the rest of the 141 crew have their way with you during a fake briefing. After you and the rest of the crew agree and go over everyone’s terms and limits, all bets are off.

Price is sitting down in his favorite lounge chair at home. Leisurely enjoying a cigar as he has you get prepared. Having you dress down to only your underwear and collar while he watches. Afterwards, he orders you down onto your hands and knees. “C’mon, pretty girl. You know your place...”

Just as you hear the door open, you’re crawling forward towards Price till you’re sitting between his legs. Straddling one and then wrapping your arms around his calf, hugging yourself to his form as your cheek comes to rest on the top of his knee. Soap is the first one to break the silence.

“Steamin’ Jesus...” Seeing you in nothing but your underwear and a collar was a sight he wasn’t going to be forgetting anytime soon. Sorry, Price.

Despite you being there, they all do their best to act as if it’s any average debriefing they’ve done. Although, neither Soap or Ghost can look away from you nuzzling at their Captain’s thigh. Gaz, however, isn’t afraid to take the first few steps forward. Taking a seat on the couch to admire you for now.

“Gorgeous as always, love~” Gaz doesn’t do anything right away. Content with watching for the time being. Soap and Ghost though? Oh, those two are glued to the spot. Unsure of what to do and where to even begin. Excitement and tension thick in the air.

Price will gently nudge you and tell you to help get things going for everyone. Looking down at you and giving you a look that lets you know exactly what he wants. Even so, you don’t leave his side right away. Price will rub your cheek as you nuzzle into his palm. Only after you’ve had your fill, you’ll crawl over to where Soap and Ghost stand.

Smiling up at both of them as Soap breaks first; reaching down to pet the hair on the top of your head. Ghost, however, watches like Gaz and Price as you kneel before Soap so you can begin to undo his belt and pants. By the time you’ve his pants halfway down his thighs, he’s helping you with the next part. Pushing his boxer-briefs down till his semi-flaccid cock springs free.

You lick your lips as you lean in and begin to kiss and nip at his muscular thighs. Wasting no time in moving over to his groin so you can kiss and stroke his member. Working him up till he’s hard enough to take within your mouth.

“You weren’t kiddin’ when you said she’s an eager one, were you, Cap?” Soap doesn’t push you to go faster or take more than you can handle. Instead, he’s appreciating the view of you on your knees before him, your plush lips sealed around the tip of his cock. Just as he releases a pleased groan, your taking more of him in your mouth till your confident enough to work up a good pace with him.

All three of the men that you aren’t tending to are watching you care for Soap till he’s grabbing the hair at the back of your head and pulling you off of him. Soap’s grinning down at you as you clean the saliva and pre-cum off of your lips. “Heh, good girl~” He praises, then glancing over to Ghost.

“Go on, pup. I can’t wait to see the Lieutenant use you.”

Moving over to Ghost, you take your time in working your way up to the front of his pants. Starting from his calves, you slide your palms up his strong legs till he’s smacking your hands away. Beating you to undoing his pants till his hard cock springs free. Smacking against your cheek as you giggle and turn your head, lapping at his tip before sliding your tongue down the length of him. Unlike Soap, you work him up in a different way. Kissing and gently taking his balls within your palm to fondle him. You can feel yourself become wet with arousal when you feel his dick twitch against your face.

Before you start, he’s pulling you back by your hair and taking himself into his own hand, pressing his cock against your lips till your mouth opens to welcome him in. “Take a deep breath.” Is all the warning Ghost gives you before he’s gathering your hair in a ponytail. Pushing your face down after you take a deep breath, he doesn’t bother asking if you’re alright with it. He’s heard enough from Price. Knows you can take it all and much, much more...

He face fucks you mercilessly. Using the grip on your hair to pull you back before he’s pushing you back down on him again. Making you take more and more of his length despite the drool and pre-cum spilling past your lips, even thrust he makes you take making you gag in the process with his pace and intensity of his thrust.

Just as your eyes begin to water and you begin to moan around Ghost’s unrelenting throat fucking, your eyes widen when you feel a sudden pressure against your mound. Soap had taken it upon himself to indulge a little. Pressing the toe of his boot against your clothed cunt. Digging it in directly against your clit and then wiggling it so he was roughly stimulating you. Making your thighs quiver and shake.

“Fuckin’ hell, Soap...” Gaz can’t help but speak out as he watches both men work you over. Although, admittedly, the sight of Soap jiggling his boot against you till your crying out around Ghost has him twitching within his pants.

He's stepping forward, not even bothering to ask what exactly Ghost and Soap have planned for you. Instead, he takes it upon himself to drag your panties down, exposing only your ass since Soap was having too much fun with his boot and your pussy. He could even see the crotch of your panties were already sporting a wet spot from where Soap's boot had been digging in. Hot as it may be, he has other things on his mind for this evening.

Ghost finally relents just as you feel your ass being spread apart by Gaz, pulling you off of his cock with a lewd and audible ‘pop’ just in time for Gaz to lean in. Lapping at your tight ring of muscle and causing you to whimper and push back against his face and Soap’s boot in the process. Overwhelmed and surrounded by the trio of soldiers.

Price takes his time finishing his cigar as he watches the boys take you apart bit by bit. The sounds your making as Ghost fucks your mouth with little care, Soap’s slick toe of his boot squeaking against you, the moans and sighs you gave as Gaz ate your ass... All of it had him nearly bursting out of his trousers at that point. Though, he chooses to hold off for now. Instead, the Captain was temporarily content with appreciating the view, as well as giving the occasional order or two.

“You’re being such a good girl for us, love. I think we might need to get a new tag for your collar... ‘Property of 141′ ”

If you had a tail, it’d be wagging non-stop.

Needless to say, they all come to enjoy using you till you can’t even think straight. Each taking their time in indulging everything they’ve thought about doing to you leading up to the event.

After it’s all said and done, they each take turns giving you their own form of aftercare. Having asked Price what would be best for you to help you come down from everything. Reassuring you your the best submissive/pup they could have asked for~

#call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader #john price x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #cod headcanons #headcanons #my writing #simon riley x reader

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peace-for-levi · 1 year

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golden hour

{sometimes i get ideas for drabbles that aren't long enough to be chapters, or oneshots. this was going to be a side chapter/drabble of morgen, but i didn't like where it was headed so i rewrote it. pls accept my garbage, i wrote this in ~45 mins}

cw: i have projected!!!!!! my abandonment issues onto levi lmao. anxiety, trauma, very slight possessiveness (but not to the point it's unhealthy) references to smut from the night prior. so mdni! finale pt. 1/manga spoilers!!!

w/c: 1201

taglist: @levmada @poisonpeche @jayteacups @happybird16 @theferricfox @sckerman @whattheheckmidoriya @notgoodforlife @anlian-aishang @unadulteratedtreecrusade @nelapanela94 (i honestly forget who's in my taglist??)

Levi Ackerman doesn't know peace. He is a man most acquainted with strife and sacrifice.

The void left in his heart after the Rumbling is gaping and steep. It pulls him into the dark, with little hope of anything good ever happening. Maybe he doesn't deserve it; maybe he isn't meant to have nice things. That's what the cynical side of him says. But then again, cynicism was all he ever had. Negativity, doubt... As a soldier, he always had to err on the side of caution.

So the idea of you laying in his arms, flush to his bare chest, is something so foreign to him. Levi can hardly believe his eyes.

Sunlight filters through the windows, casting rays and lighting up the room. Shining on you, he finally takes you -- and all your wonder -- in and he breathes easy.

He pulls you closer. Where is the next threat? When, even?

This is too good to be true.

You stir in his embrace and he relaxes, allowing you to fidget and stretch as needed. Your dewy and damp hair from last night clings to your forehead. Dirt doesn't repulse him too much anymore, he thinks. Well, not if it's you. He flicks the stray hairs dangling in your eyes away, and blows the rest away gently. Now he sees you.

He gasps when you smile in your hazy state, snuggling closer.

"Mornin'," you sigh.

"Mm." He doesn't mean for it to come across as a grunt. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

The gravelly baritone of his morning voice sends shivers down your spine. "Ohhhhh yeah."

It would be hard not to sleep well after last night, but he will stay on alert. He had his night of fun. Now it's time to get back to business. But what business does he have left? The teashop? It's closed today. Maybe cleaning the kitchen. Oh wait, you did a spring clean of it last night.

He sighs, heavily. It's hard to go from always having a task to do, to nothing at all. He can't lose his edge, it's too soon. It's barely been a few years. If he loses his edge, what happens then? What if you slip through his fingers? What if you realize that your time could be spent elsewhere, fulfilling whatever dreams you may have?

Not that he'd stop you, it's just…

I just don't have anyone else, he thinks, selfishly.

He must stay alert and aware all the time. He gave into desire last night when he could have been doing something more productive. If you continued to see how good he was, you'd continue to need him, hopefully. He needed you to rely on him, to need him, so that way, you'd always come back to him and you'd be in his life.

"You're shaking."

He's snapped out of his toxic train of thoughts. "Hmm?"

"When you tense your muscles, though it's faint, you shake, and…" you lean in closer, ear to his chest, "well, I feel it a lot more since I'm right next to you."

He sweeps his hand to cradle your head, wanting to keep you there.

"Sorry, guess I'm just…"

You peek up at him. "Just what?"

"Tch… Just forget it."

You blink owlishly. Sheesh, you only wanted to open a line of communication with him. But even after all those years, even when (an unsteady) peace between Eldia and Marley was established, he keeps his walls up. He doesn't know that it's okay to start taking down those bricks, however slow or long it may take him to.

The birds are chirping a song outside, perched on the sill. You smile softly, listening. "Do you hear them?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his arms. "Relax, and listen to them. They're trying to talk to us, maybe." You search for his eyes.

"Yeah, they say you need a shower."

Despite his joke, his pupils are trained on the door into the hall of your shared apartment. The poor man, is all you think; a tortured soul who's not used to reprieve and doesn't know how to accept the rest he deserves. Always on the lookout.

You shimmy out entirely of his grasp and sit up. Though faint, you don't miss the bit of resistance he put up. You purse your lips in thought. Coax him out of it. That's always been your go-to method of trying to get him to open up.

A small nudge in the right direction.

"Last night was fun."

He had started to hum with the birds up until then. He peers back and he turns fully to face you. "Good, I'm glad. I feel the same."

"So feel it," you insist. "I think you don't allow yourself to enjoy the nice things in life."

He scoffs, in denial. "I'd hardly consider this a pleasant "morning after" experience."

"Not when you keep yourself so guarded and cagey, no."

Whatever scoff or smirk he tried to force fell flat. He averts his gaze, sensing a lecture. But when you move to ruffle his slowly thinning hair, his milky and grey eyes find yours. You smile sadly at the grey hairs you spot.

"I'm fine, I'm okay, Levi. You don't need to worry about me, ever. So rest. It's just us, now."

He scoffs, again, and turns his back to you. You flop down and trace the pads of your fingers over his muscles. You trace every scar and blemish; every cut and piece of skin so torn, it can hardly repair itself back to "normal."

He's always been the most human of the lot, and the most scarred (in more ways than one.) He carries the scars with him. The anguished fallen, the courageous subordinates he never got to apologize to. He carries them with him. Like how he carries his former squad, Erwin and Hange.

"Put down your swords now, Levi, the war is over. Take off the armour, too, that shit gets heavy."

He swallows thickly. "What about you? What if you're ever in danger? With my body like this, I ca–"

"Leave the sword at your feet, then. Pick it up when you need to," you soothe. You lean down to kiss him. When his shoulders creak, you giggle. "See, you're getting old! We should resting now."

I just can't be alone. Not after everything that's happened, he thinks.

"'We'," he parrots. "What about when you get bored living with a cripple?"

What will I do when you leave me?

"Well, no one else can make Sunday morning pancakes like you!"

He smiles for the first time now, his lips curling with bliss. He has to internally fight the urge to tense. "Don't make it out that pancakes are an achievement… Then again, I have never seen someone so god-awful at flipping."

He rolls onto his back now. You lower a hand to his scarred, pallid cheek. You smooth a thumb under his milky eye. As gently as you can manage, you sink back into his arms.

"So as long as you'll have me, I won't be leaving any time soon."

You don't miss the thick swallow and the trembling lips.

"I'm staying right here, 'Vi."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rbs and comments always appreciated!! ♡

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #husbando tag<3 #levi ackerman x reader #snk levi #aot levi #captain levi #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman angst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #lol might delete this what did i just cough up

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bas-writes · 13 days

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ꕥ in the heat of spring | rush hours feat. ino takuma x reader

content warnings: pwp, reader has vagina and breasts, sex at a love hotel, feminine pet names, praise, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex word count: 3.5k mood prompt: gentle and commanding kink prompt: sex in clothes requested by: @mirkaaaluv a/n: well, well, well, if it hasn't gotten out of hand ^^" i wanted this, and other heat of spring texts, to be 1k words and best and yet, here we go. i guess ino just has his own set of rules lmao

The atmosphere changed as soon as the door opened and revealed your chosen room.

Ino's hand, so far only nudging you gently towards your destination, wanders down, to your ass, and sinks fingers into the soft flesh. You've expected the move—and yet, you jerk up, barely catching a high-pitched yelp at your throat. You're so tense that even a brush of a feather would send you spinning, an unambiguous touch is almost like a torture.

A welcomed one but a torture, nevertheless.

It's your first time at a love hotel as a guest and something about this fact keeps you right on the thin line between excitement and panic. It's hard to find a rational explanation for your state; you've been in many of them before, as a sorcerer, perpetually erasing the curses born of lust, stress, and raveled emotions you loathed to name but learnt by heart and damped down in order to do your job properly. You gave this place a quick scan even before you stepped into the main hall, and it was as clean as a sex-focused establishment could be. You stared intently at the blurry silhouette of the check-in clerk behind the frosted glass as Ino paid for your room and claimed the card key, but there was nothing suspicious about them. You looked around for residuals or disturbing vibes that could betray a presence—past or present—of a curse, just to find nothing.

It was a safe hotel—and yet, you were much more tense than you ever were in those cursed ones.

"You okay?" Ino puts the card key into the holder, turns the light on, finally closes the door behind you two. "You're…kinda pale. Is it—"

"No." You cut in, your voice calm and unbothered, contrary to a shriek you've expected. "Definitely not. I've checked."

"No curses?"

"No curses."

Ino laughs and kisses the back of your neck, "If there was one around, I'd tear it with bare hands, I think. I fought for this fuck break for a week. C'mon, ladies first."

Nudged by a playful yet hearty squeeze on your ass, you finally step fully in. The room is almost soundproof; the soothing music played from the speakers at the corridor is immediately replaced by serene silence. Fighting against weirdly stiff legs, you take a few curious steps inside; the space is on the smaller side but well organized and cozy for a hotel booked for a single night at best. There's a small tv, speakers, two chairs by a coffee table with a small basket (filled with everything you would need from an establishment of this kind), door leading to a private bathroom—and, of course, the main star of the event: a comfy-looking bed, big enough to fit not two but even three adults at once.

In any other place and time, you would happily pounce straight on it, to test if it's as soft as the views promise—but with legs so stiff and your head spinning you need another nudge from your boyfriend to finally approach closer.

"Well—" Ino is right behind you, the side of his face pressed close to yours and his fingers slowly tracing your sides. "—how do you like it?"

"It's…nice. Very nice."

For a starter, you've been aiming for a cautious sit at the edge of the bed, but Ino is faster, bolder, and impatient with your guarded behavior. Hand on your hip, he spins you around and crashes lips against yours. It's a hasty, hungry kiss, full of longing and agony of separation for weeks of work, stress, and all of this cursed bullshit pulling you two out of your routine. You can't blame Ino for finally snapping; you feel it too, the fire you forced into the subconsciousness has perked its head up and is pushing you now into his hungry arms. The familiar tight knot in your abdomen is pulling hard, harder than you've felt since what seems forever, and begging for a fast and intense release.

If he kissed you like this for longer, the weird tension would evaporate from your head—but Ino's in a rush, as always when his needs are pent up to the verge of bursting. He pulls away from your lips just to push you on the bed, yanks the beanie off his head, hesitates over doing the same with the hoodie just for a second but leaves it, already too starved of your closeness. He advances on you with such momentum that he pushes air out of your lungs—and doesn't let you take another breath before kissing you again with the same fervor. The horny beast in you growls, pleased, and your legs immediately open to fit him better—but the tension at the back of your head remains and tries its best to tie your body into its submission.

"Fuck, I need you..." Ino rasps into your ear, sending harsh shivers down your spine. He ruts his hips against you, the rapidly growing bulge against your groin leaving you no doubts you're for a fast and bumpy ride. You mewl and crane your neck for his lips, jerk your hips up in an answer to his bite, whimper, and moan when he lingers to mark you with a hickey.

His hands don't give your nerves the same luxury; using one for leverage to pin you with his body just enough, he sneaks the other under your clothes. It traces your tum lovingly but, remembering you have only three hours yanked out of your tight schedule, dives into your pants and panties shortly after.

"You're tense," Ino points out as he's spilling wet kisses from your jaw towards your neck and lower.

"This is new," you admit but don't follow any further, trying to silence your uneasiness with haste, shallow kisses that swallow his pleased murmurs and mewls. There is no time for niceties, both of you know it—and you're not letting your weird qualms get in your way, not with the fire spilling between your legs just at the brush of his fingers against your slit.

It's uncomfortable to maneuver under your jeans without unzipping them but Ino would endure even digging in a cooling-down concrete if it meant he could finally touch the place he longed for the most. He curses under breath, his words moist against your neck, and finally finds an angle that satisfies him. His thumb traces your slit, spreads your labia and toys with your clit—touch undeniably pleasant but also palpably rushed, especially for a man who could finger you for hours, until you were nothing but a puddle melting in his hands. He's rather seeking for your arousal than working for it; you're more damp than wet but that's enough, it was before, and your thighs quiver by his sides when he teases right at your entrance.

Tension itches at the back of your head; when Ino's eyes seek yours you nod with agreement, maybe even too sharply to pass as genuine. Under other circumstances he would point it out and ask to be doubly sure, to read the sweet consent from the timbre of your voice, but his senses are as hazy as yours—and he's not thinking with the right brain anymore.

He adjusts the position of his hand one more time—and slides two fingers into you, at once.

Instead of the expected surge of pleasure, your body spasms and you hiss sharply as you try to stop your hips from jerking away. The tension hasn't worked in your favor; yes, the moisture would be more than enough if you were at home, lazy and relaxed, but here it fights against his fingers, access suspended, no matter what your soul and mind are craving.

Ino immediately notices.

"Oh baby, did I hurt you?" He withdraws his hand and lifts himself on both arms now, giving you more space beneath him. The wildfire in his eyes has turned warm and docile, and he's looking at you with nothing but concern—and guilt, creeping at the corners of his big, puppy eyes.

"No, don't worry, I'm alright." You scratch at the back of his head, yourself not sure if to calm down him, yourself, or both at once. You don't know how to explain your current situation without sounding too intricately and ridiculously. You're tempted to joke that you would feel more at ease if there was a curse in the next room, but that's not really the strategy you're looking for to salvage the mood.

"A false start?" Ino finds the right words first and exhales with relief when you agree. "Shit... I was so focused on time... My bad. I'm sorry."

When he reaches to your lips again, the kiss is softer, asking for your forgiveness, but as enthusiastic as before. There's still plenty of heat in between the two of you, so it doesn't take long for your moves to turn sloppy and hungry anew. He's more cautious, though, and doesn't budge from his position any further than needed to sip from you. No matter how tempting you and your mewls are, he's not caving in, not until you're nice and putty in his arms.

It seems it's been hours when he finally asks if you want to continue, and you nod with such enthusiasm that your vision goes blurry for a moment, the tension at the back of your head already too lazy to perk its head, peeking curiously at the situation instead.

A soft kiss on your cheek later, Ino climbs off the bed and, finally, strips off his hoodie. The view itself does wonders to your mood; his athletic and lean body is a work of art, begging to be touched, licked, and caressed. You stare at his back intently as you work your pants and panties down—and count its crevices and lines of defined muscles you're going to trace soon. The tension lets out only a warning thrum when your partner starts digging in the basket with love hotel goods, but it's pretty much its last spasm.

With a comically triumphant noise, Ino turns with a bottle of lube and a condom in his hands—and stops in his tracks at the sight of your half-naked body. He takes a harsher breath when you roll your shirt over your waist; from the weight of his stare, you know he's inches from pouncing on top of you again. Nerves and will of steel, forged in heated battles against curses, pay off in a situation like this, he shrugs the temptation off and snuffs out the wildfire running through his veins.

Everything for your sake.

"You spoil me." The mattress dips under his weight as Ino approaches you on his knees, opening the lube with his teeth at the same time. He spits the cap out on the floor and sits by your side on his heels. He takes his time studying your curves, almost motionless if not for his chest heaving with need and his abdominal muscles tensing and twitching. He might be controlling himself, but it doesn't come with ease. Each breath is a fight against his instincts, racing thoughts, and pulsing hardness relentlessly pushing on his jeans.

"Show yourself to me, pretty girl." He finally snaps out of trance and pours lube, almost everything he has, on his fingers. A smile grows on his face as you listen, bending your legs in knees and spreading them wide for him. "Yes, just like this... Fuck, you're so hot..."

Scooting closer, Ino moves in between them, eyes fixed on his goal, warm and ready for him—but still takes his time to adore you properly. He leans close to your thigh, kisses your knee with sweet affection and advances further down, until he has you giggling and mewling with anticipation—so close to your core yet so painfully away.

One flick of gaze up later he finally reaches between your legs again—the strategy and technique all the same but slower and patient. He spreads lube along your slit as he caresses it, working his way past the last knots of your hesitation. He teases and asks for permission until he's sure your gasps and spasms are genuine in every way possible, and even there, he takes his sweet time playing with your clit. In the heated rush you've almost forgotten how sadistic and stubborn he can be if only he wants to spoil you beyond the expectations. Soon he has every single one of your nerves taunt and at the mercy of his fingertips and midst your hazy mind you're thanking the conditions for giving you two so little time, otherwise he would boil you right there for painfully long hours.

Right as you're ready to beg for more, Ino finally makes his move, starting with a single finger this time.

"There we go, smooth and easy..." He's slow and careful, his eyes fixed on your pussy as he fills you up to his knuckle. "Such a good girl, Y/N..."

He adds another one and smirks down at your expression. Not caring about the mess, he tosses the bottle with lube away and lies beside you, chest flush to your shoulder. You feel his warm breath right by your ear, heavy and right on the verge of a needy groan; prolonging the fast has its great price and he's paying without a blink. It's so unbelievably hot to have him so worked up with only two fingers in you, to be so adored and needed that he's taut like a string on the verge of snapping, and his tongue is tying into knots as he's whispering dirty encouragements for you.

"My... You're getting so wet now..." His voice is throaty, tense and almost breaking, in the most sensual way. "Sucking me in... Can you squeeze a little more? Oh yes, that's right, that's a good girl, working so hard to take my fingers. Do you think you can take another one? I'll be gentle. You need to take it, if you want my cock, pretty girl."

His breathing hitches when you, indeed, take the third finger. Rutting against your side, his hard-rock length twitching in his jeans, he moans, loud and pathetic, at your cunt fluttering around his knuckles. His patience is on the verge of crumbling; even the gentlest and most loving boyfriend has his limits and Ino has pushed past them ages ago. Even midst the hot-red haze mantling your mind you can feel him struggling. His moves turn less precise and sloppy, once almost ceasing, once rushing and seeking that one last nerve to graze and snap. Along with willpower he's losing his focus, putting it instead whole into not cumming into his pants.

And yet, despite everything, he puts you in the first place.

"Fuck..." Ino flounders between words, trying to play two roles at once and win his prize in both of them. "It's so hot... Pretty girl, please? Can I fuck you now? Look, you're taking my fingers already... Fuck— You're taking them so well... Will you cum on them? I want you to cum. Please, cum for me, sweetheart."

He whispers a please after a please into your ear, abandoning stretching you for the sake of moving the remains of his focus to your clit. He rubs it fast and sloppily, far from ideal but makes up for it with desperation and not ceasing until your heels start to dig in the mattress and your thighs to spasm and shake.

"Do it now, sweet girl." He trips over his words as if he was as close to the release as you're now, but he finds enough willpower to show dominance one last time before he finally pushes you over the edge. Your whole body spasms, the buildup and anticipation resulting in a strong, mind-numbing and exhausting orgasm. For a moment there's nothing for you but blank, overwhelming pleasure, white silence and dry, itching pain in your lungs, as if you forgot how to breathe when you were crying out his name.

You return to your senses with stickiness all over your skin and his hot breath pressed to your sweaty neck with a silent pleading for more.

Ino licks his lips when your gaze meets and smiles, as cheeky and proud of his work as impatient. His eyes are glossy, feverish, and his cheeks are flushed so much they're beaming with heat, "Are you okay?"

You nod, not quite having power to say something yet.

"Do you want more? Can I take you?"

Another nod—and a bright smile at his sudden, childish pounce at given consent. Ino's hands are shaking when he unbuckles and unzips his jeans; his fluffy happy trail leads your gaze towards his heavy, twitching erection and precum beading at its head, threatening to spill everything at the slightest friction. He doesn't do much better when rolling a condom on, almost dropping it straight out of the wrapping and dragging a dry spasm of laughter out of you.

"See what you're doing to me, you little minx?" He says once finally successful and squirts the last dollop of lube along his shaft. He spreads it with a few strokes—biting on the bottom lip as he's doing so, so close to his finish that even a loose, almost mechanical jerk of a hand is overstimulating—then finally takes his place between your legs.

He spreads your knees further open, pulls your hips closer and helps you rest your calves against his chest. Before he guides your ankles to his shoulders, he brushes a gentle kiss against the elastic band of one of your socks, then the mark it left before it slid down.

"Ready?" He asks, voice shaking, as he's rubbing himself against your puffy, sensitive clit: shallow, pleading thrusts that could as well just get him off right over you.

You nod again and your eyes flutter in pleasure as Ino wastes no time and slides in, with ease and a loud, guttural groan. He stills mid-way in, intense twitching inside of you calling for a fast finish, but he manages to calm himself down enough to press further, leading your knees towards your chest until he meets your limit.

"Holy shit..." Eyes closed, Ino bites on his lips almost to blood. Sweat pearls on his forehead, first droplets trickle down his temples, and his arms, supporting your legs, start shaking. "This is... Fuck, baby girl, I missed it... I missed you so much..."

He twitches harder when you trace his back, lets out a single dry sob when you run fingers through his hair and pull him closer to yourself. It's okay, he has worked hard for it, he can let go and just enjoy himself. You want to say all of this aloud, but only breathing and soft mewls feel right now—and he's too lost in it to hear all of that anyway.

His control snaps, from tranquil and nearly motionless he switches into the highest gear in seconds, and his deep, harsh, desperate thrusts pierce your body deeper into the soft mattress. It's primal and selfish, and the closest to using you Ino could ever get, each day of loneliness and pent-up tension written in the frantic and sloppy rhythm of his hips. It could have been too much for your body, so spent after an intense orgasm, but he doesn't last long, soon whining and moaning, and finally coming, with fingers digging into your thighs and head falling into the crook of your neck.

He's thrusting into you, at the end only rocking gently against you, until he has no cum and power left in him. He lets your legs slide by his sides and sprawls himself on top of you, heavy, sweaty, so hot against your barely pulled-up shirt and his jeans lowered just below his hips.

"Holy shit, I needed that." There's a trace of smile in Ino's voice—and even in his groan when he fails to pull out of you and has to collapse on you again.

With a pleased, agreeing hum you wrap arms around him and giggle when he finds some steam in him to nibble on your neck. The room is filled with your breathing, mixed musk of your bodies, and the barely audible but steady buzz of the electronics. Now, when nestled cozy with his body close to yours and his lips affectionately tasting your skin, the worry and tension that got in between the two of you feel so irrational that you want to laugh. How could you possibly feel so out of place when you had Ino by your side all this time? The rhythm of his heart and smell of his cologne alone have you feeling at home, safe, cozy and loved.

"How much time do we have left?" Ino fishes his phone from the back pocket, furrows his brows, displeased, when he glances over the screen. "Hey. Do you think we can make it with one more round, shower and a lunch in less than an hour?"

"Do you still have power left after that?" You giggle when he wriggles to find a comfortable position, tickling you while doing so. "You're crazy."

"Nah." He sinks teeth into your shoulder, playfully, but hard enough to leave a little mark. "I'm not just crazy. I'm crazy for you."

thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.

tag list: @lale-txt @honey-deku @ohnococo

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #ino takuma x reader #ino x reader #jjk ino x reader #ino takuma x you #ino x you #jjk ino x you #bas writes #sinful #in the heat of spring #female reader

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chubs-deuce · 21 days

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First off, love your work! Your art is phenomenal!

Though, I am rather curious. We've seen Lucifers reaction to finding out about Dawn, but what about the other residents of the hotel? I can't imagine Angel, Vaggie, Husk, and Nifty have an exactly pleasant reaction. Nifty because babies are messy, Husk because it's Alastor and ew??? he made a baby???, Angel because what was the sex like, and Vaggie because her (current? ex? never dated in this au?) girlfriend just popped up with a child that she apparently had with someone who's the literal worst. I guess I more or less answered my own question, but I'm still curious how you think they'd react. Perhaps even Lilith if you think that's something you can tackle with our limited information about her? I can honestly imagine her storming out of Heaven, kicking down the hotel doors, and scooping up little Dawn for Nana time. Maybe she even brings Alastors mama with her at one point as a small thank you to him for giving her a grand baby, but she probably has the same reaction to him as Lucifer and doesn't like him much. Lol

Also, you've probably talked about it before, but what were Charlie and Alastor trying to do when they accidentally conjured Dawn? You mentioned a spell/incantation or something, but what was it for?

One last question: I once saw a similar comic where Alastor accidentally made a baby with Angel and, upon trying to decide what to do with it, Alastor proceeded to try to (pretend to.... I hope) eat the baby. Did Alastor do the same thing in this situation or would he do something somewhat similar? What would Charlie have done if he'd tried?

Oh!!! What a wonderful ask to receive and get to pick apart/build upon!!!

First of all I'm so glad you like my art, thank you so much! :D

Secondly I'll happily give my take on everything you've just brought up - you're making many great points and I agree with a lot of them too :DD I'm gonna give my input under the cut since this got hella long lmao:

Question 1: how would the other hotel residents react?

I already agree with pretty much most of your ideas!

I personally think that they wouldn't just spring the news on the residents without Charlie being Charlie and wanting to make sure that whole thing goes over well (and correctly) and insisting on giving the context upfront first before any crass assumptions can be made!

So while Angel would be disappointed at the lack of implied sex to prod them about, I do think he'd take a liking to the baby p much immediately. He used to have a lot of extended family growing up under the circumstances that he did, so I like to imagine he slips into a kind of older brother/caretaker/babysitter role fairly easily! Not to mention he's one of the most emotionally intelligent members of the cast, so I think he'd also pick up on Charlie's emotional turmoil fairly quickly and become a great source of support early on.

Husk would definitely be weirded out, but more worried for the offspring and how much Alastor could potentially corrupt an innocent creature that harbors unknown amounts of immense power given her heritage by being given the freedom to raise her in his image. He does inevitably grow to care a lot more about her over time.

Niffty definitely doesn't like Dawn until she's old enough to start cleaning up after herself properly - by then Dawn has already developed a mischieviously playful personality, so Niffty easily manages to rope her into shenanigans such as bug hunts or stealing someone's diary or sth.

Vaggie's a tricky one since I haven't yet decided where she stands with Charlie.

Vaggie has every right to be extremely wary of Alastor and his motives (even after his efforts in the battle against Adam), she absolutely hates the idea that this freak managed to procreate - and with someone as innately powerful as Charlie nonetheless! But she also cannot deny that the child is ultimately not at fault in the slightest and undeserving of her ire, so she comes to the conclusion that the best she can do to prevent this fucker from influencing her negatively is to monitor their interactions and interject to keep the kid on the "right" track morally speaking.

Part of me wants to make it so they mutually broke up after Charlie made her deal with Alastor (Vaggie would've had a justified reason to be upset with her for being reckless and Charlie would've still been upset with Vaggie for keeping such a huge secret from her for years, so a fight would make the most canonically compliant sense here)…

…but I also think that keeping her and Charlie purely platonic from the get-go with Vaggie still working her way out of the militaristic mindset that was drilled into her in the past will generally be easier for me to successfully pull off.

This may or may not result in Vaggie trying to teach a five years old Dawn to fight with a spear that her little hands can barely even hold in the name of self defense :'D

As for Lilith… I don't know if I'll even really touch on her in the story? Mostly bc I have no clue what any of the clues we've gotten so far could mean for her personality-wise ^^" She could be the worst mom in the history of moms or the woman we saw by the beach was secretly Eve all along or maybe Lilith is actually playing some kind of 6d chess we don't see all of the pieces of for everyone's greater good - it's too many variables to really come to any one conclusion ^^"

I'll have to think about it in more detail later down the line…

Question 2: What were Charlie and Alastor trying to do when accidentally conjuring Dawn?

See, the exterminations are still happening bi-yearly now that Lute is in charge and Sera refuses to lift a finger to keep them in line, so the thirst for vengeance continues to go unquenched, only growing as time passes.

Great question, and one with an answer!

To add to that, Emily and a handful of others in heaven are getting worried about some ominous visions archangel Ramiel has been having and thought it best to entrust Charlie with Lucifer's old grimoire (that he wrote before he fell).

The reason? It appears in some of Ramiel's visions and they're hoping there's some kind of helpful thing in there.

And, more importantly, it's written in an ancient angelic language, one that Charlie isn't fluent in.

The spell they used to create Dawn is actually titled something Charlie translated to "Tool Of Infinite Potential"

So Charlie thought huh! Maybe this can help protect us better in the next etermination without relying on dad again or has some other hidden purpose I'm not yet privvy to that will help with restoring balance to heaven? It's scribbled across the last two pages of the book.

The spell requires at least two casters - so clearly it must be a powerful one, right?

The only people coming to mind powerful enough to handle that sort of magic would be Lucifer and Alastor - but considering the grimoire is written more like a diary and Charlie is very certain she wasn't meant to even have it to begin with, her father falls out of the equation.

So… they were techincally always trying to create Dawn, they just didn't know it yet due to a translation error :'D

That left Alastor, who then talked her into giving it a shot.

What neither of them knew yet was that Charlie mistranslated the spell - it's not "Tool" of infinite potential, but "Vessel". What is the forbidden offspring of an angel but a vessel of infinite potential? To raise up and teach whatever knowledge and beliefs you want?

Question 3: Would Alastor try to eat the baby?

No :'DDD

He's unhinged, yes. He doesn't normally like children - that is also correct.

Also Alastor is nothing if not an opportunist and after the initial surprise and shock and double-checking their notes to make sure they performed the ritual correctly… There's two things happening in his brain.

But I don't think he'd just try to fucking. Eat a child that was a rather costly fucking thing to make - sucking up not only materials and hours of planning but also one of his shadow minions, his blood and a literal piece of his soul.

Maybe he'd joke about it eating it to remove it after seeing Charlie vastly more in distress about the whole ordeal? But not really mean it, if so, yet still receiving a horrified glare from the princess lol.

Firstly: This child is equal parts him and Charlie - he recognizes the chance to mold and shape a young demon that might be on par with Charlie in terms of power in his image.

Secondly: He's hyperaware that he talked Charlie into doing this ritual, the baby undeniably looks like it's his - he's as much to blame here as her mistranslation.

There's a responsibility there for him, as both participant and not quite willing donor. That child has a literal piece of both of their souls in it and I genuinely don't think his internalized misandry and planet-sized pride would allow him to be like the deadbeat dads he's offed quite a few of in life now that he's put in a similar position. He would want to be better than his own father at least - especially if he wanted to succeed at shaping this kid completely to his will.

THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK!!! I hope this wasn't too bothersome in length to read through ^^" (even tho I had a blast writing this up all evening lol)

Have a great day <3

#charlastor #radiobelle #charlastor fankid #charlastor fanchild #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #hazbin hotel oc #chubs answers

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kangals · 4 days

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what does the grooming process look like for stellina and kep?

my 'process" for grooming is very much what i would call 'poor man's dog training':

get a silicone lick-mat

apply peanut butter very generously

slap that bad boy onto the front of the fridge/kitchen appliances at dog eye-level

groom while they're distracted

i start this process day 1 as puppies and continue it through their whole lives. should i actually be putting in the effort to actually train them to stand still and quietly for grooming without the need for food distraction? yes. do i? no i'm lazy.

or if you're asking about like, what grooming i'm actually doing:

hair: i do an all-over brush at least once a week (should do twice but again, lazy and not needed). takes like 20-30 mins. my 'schedule' for brushing is basically this:

red areas (behind ears, arm/legpits) are high-friction and very prone to matting. these you have to brush out at least once a week, no exceptions, or you will get mats. this is also very sensitive skin so it's good to desensitize them to brushing as much as you can.

yellow areas should be brushed at least once weekly to comb out any tangles and debris, but are less prone to matting.

and then the rest of them i'll brush through but that's about it, that part pretty much never tangles.

i normally just use a pin brush and slicker brush, and a metal comb for the yellow/red areas. sometimes an undercoat rake if they're very sheddy.

collies are 'dry' dogs - they don't really drool, and they don't have the oily waterproof coat that breeds like a lab or hound does, so they're naturally low-odor without much of a 'doggy' smell. i'll bathe every 4-8 weeks depending on what the weather's like and if their skin seems like it's getting cruddy. 2-3 times a year i'll take them to a groomer to have them do a 'deshed' treatment where they really blow out the undercoat, because this makes a huge difference in keeping them comfortable in the heat, and in how much hair i have to vacuum.

for stellina i've also been getting an outline trim (shortening up the yellow areas on the pic with long feathering) in spring and fall, it just keeps things cleaner and it makes a huge difference in the amount of time i have to spend brushing.

feet: i dremel nails every week, same PB-mat method as with brushing. every week is probably overkill but i think it's good desensitization and also i hate long nails on dogs so i'm a bit anal about it. collies tend to get long hair on the feet/between the pads, some people like the 'grinch feet' look but personally i fucking hate it so every 4-6 weeks i just take round-tip scissors and clean them up.

other: the rest i do as needed, e.g. if i see any wax/debris in the ears i'll do a clean with OTC ear cleaner and a cotton ball. one of stellina's eyes tends to be teary, so about once a week i take a warm washcloth and wipe them down to prevent tear stains. and then i vacuum my house weekly, sometimes every 2 weeks if it's not too bad.

honestly i'm writing a lot but what i've listed here is way less than 1 hour a week on average, collies IMO are not particularly high-grooming needs dogs (compared to, say, a doodle or OES that needs daily brushing and regular professional grooming). i find the grooming and hair totally manageable. i honestly prefer dealing with long hair because it tends to clump together on the ground, rather than short hairs that fly and scatter into everything. people tend to see roughs and go 'oh no way too much hair' but like, it is super manageable as long as you've got half an hour at some point each week to brush your dog. i'm very obsessive about my pets being 'neat' and i do fine.

sorry for the incredibly overly-long answer to your very simple ask lmao

#long post

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icyg4l · 1 month

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PAC: What Should You Do for Spring Break?

For my college babes who need ideas on what to do for the next couple of days or next month, I got you with this one! This marks one of two posts being made today! Yayyy! Without further ado, please pick your pile.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile 1: Pile One, you need to play it cool for your spring break. I feel like you really just need to let loose. Flirt a little. I see the wing of an airplane in my third eye, which lets me know that you should book a last minute flight. Try to go to a place that’s not a hot spot. Where do you feel called to? I also think you do some exploring within your city. Take a mini road trip! I specifically see a bar at night but with dancing, square dancing. Do any of you live in Texas? If not, you should take a road trip down to Texas! This is for a very select group of you, but you should elope with your significant other. It sounds crazy but your ancestral team supports it. If you’re single and ready to mingle, then you should go on a date. Perhaps a sip and paint? Maybe go to a lounge? I see a stable relationship forming from this date. You should go to a sporting event, if you can score some tickets! I saw a bowling ball, so you should definitely go bowling as well. And lastly, you should do something that helps you recalibrate like go to a spa! You deserve it girl!

Cards Used: Queen of Cups, Page of Wands, 2 of Discs, Temperance, King of Discs, Ace of Cups, The Hierophant, Queen of Wands.

Signs: Pisces, Aries, Virgo, Sagittarius, Taurus.

extras: “youngin.” bounce back. rainbows. nickleback. forty ounces. legs. promenade. bad memory. punta canta. tallahassee. white chicks. grimace. kissy face.

Pile 2: Pile Two, you need to retreat. I feel like you’ve been separating yourself from the crowd for a reason. You definitely need to be by yourself at this time. Take some time out for yourself and just relax. I don’t think this pile does this often, so you should take a smoke break. I saw the meme of that girl talking about conspiracy theories while smoking a blunt lmao. I also heard the word “cleansing”, so you should definitely take the time to release any past energies. Let it all go. Honestly, if you’re in a relationship, it’s time to leave it in the past. I do see that it’ll be a mutual decision so no one will really be broken hearted. Some things simply just run its course. Refrain from doing anything impulsive, it will backfire. I think that you should also spend more time with your family (chosen or biological). You tend to take them for granted & you need those moments to bond with them. Focus on setting goals for the springtime. You have a lot that you want to accomplish and it won’t get done if you don’t take action.

Cards Used: Queen of Cups, 7 of Discs, 10 of Cups, The Moon (RX), Eight of Cups, The Fool (RX), The Lovers (RX), Ace of Discs, 7 of Cups.

Signs: Leo, Gemini, Aries, Capricorn, Virgo.

extras: normani. LAX. number 7. walking on water. valerie. virus. calling an 800 number. rotating dial. pleasure seeker.

Pile 3: Pile Three, this is the perfect time to get situated. Start spring cleaning so that you can get rid of those loose ends. Do any tedious chores that you've been procrastinating on. Cut your grass. Wipe/dust your walls. Clean out your refrigerator. Another thing that you can do is write letters to your future self and hide them. I feel like this pile is wondrous and always like to plan ahead. So why not put your hopes of the future all on one page? Pile Three, you need to be comfortable with just doing nothing at times as well. I think that after all of this cleaning, you owe it to yourself to be a couch potato. You aren’t a slacker if you just sit down and crack open a bag of potato chips to watch Orange is the New Black. It just makes you human. But after all of this, you could also make an appointment with a spiritual advisor to get a spiritual cleansing or get a tarot reading from them, specifically someone who is new to you. If you do not have access to a spiritual advisor, give yourself a spiritual bath or an egg cleanse. It is best to make new connections at this time, specifically with those who have friends in higher places if you know what I mean. I channeled Dr. Facilier from The Princess and the Frog. And lastly, what you could do during spring break is implement new workout habits. This could be going to the gym, taking daily walks, finding a yoga routine, going to a pilates class, hiking or even taking a kickboxing class. Spirit wants you to not be super inactive during this break. It’s called balance. You need to learn how to not be so extreme, Pile Three. You can walk and chew bubble gum at the same time, you know?

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Fool, The High Priestess, 10 of Discs, 4 of Cups, The Hermit (RX), 7 of Wands, The Sun.

Signs: Aries, Capricorn, Libra, Gemini, Sagittarius.

extras: lovely day. “pardon me.” obsession with teyana taylor. abs. long natural nails. fiber intake. dog fur. headband wig. “shawty.” spooky. virginia. love letters. less fortunate. excess. lonely spell. castaways.

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messrmoonyy · 27 days

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- you sunshine, you temptress

Tess Servopoulos x Female reader

Request- already in like Jackson, and so Ellie and Joel live together but Tess doesn’t. They’re new in town so they’re still not used to the whole nice civilized thing, but the reader is her nice neighbor who wears her down. She plants stuff and even like cooks for tess. But she’s not a wimp either, very skilled with guns and stuff. Just a fic where they meet and like reader takes care of Tess. Smut too if you want

A/N- I took this request and ran with it. It took me a long ass time I apologise but I do really like how this turned out. It became far more angsty than I’m sure you wanted it to be but. Here we are. I wanted to explore an idea that Tess didn’t like Jackson and took time to adjust, didn’t really like reader as well. Tess leaning to adjust and love and be loved. Also in transferring this over none of my italics saved and I could’nt be fucked to go back through this again and add them back lmao

Warnings- 18+ | tess is quite low for the majority of this, canon compliant discussions of death and violence, vague/ implied smut (wc- 13.2k )

Tess masterlist | AO3 - Tess requests are open but not currently top priority

SPRING

Tess didn’t like Jackson. Not at first. The drastic change from Boston to the nomadic lifestyle she had been living with Ellie and Joel as they crossed the country had been difficult enough. But to then transfer to something so wildly different from both of those things? Yeah. It took some getting used to.

She didn’t quite know what she had been expecting really. Maybe something like Boston but without the soldiers. Small pockets of people doing their own things to get by, together for safety but nothing much else. Not the working, thriving town she had walked into. Not the cleanliness, the stores, the diner, the hot water- that apparently was only a little temperamental in the colder months compared to year round like Boston- and clean clothes. Jobs. Families. Farming. She felt like she was in an alternate dimension.

She didn’t like the way everyone was so… cheerful. Which was a weird thing to say, but it was true. Because it threw her off.

She had developed her own bubble of happiness with Joel and Ellie over the months. They laughed together at Ellie’s shitty jokes, shared in her joy when she found a can of ravioli she liked. But would be stoney faced in an instant to protect each other. Joel and Ellie she loved like family, they were her family. She was used to warm smiles from them, a desire to be near her and talk to her. She wasn’t used to it from others.

Other people were scared of her. They moved out of her way and they did as she asked. They kept their heads down in case they upset her and they didn’t cross her path. But not in Jackson. No.

They smiled at her in the street, asked her how she was, said good morning.

And it spooked her. She didn’t like it. And she hated that she didn’t. That she had become so hardened that genuine kindness scared her. Because no one was kind anymore. No one showed care unless they wanted something else in return.

So she didn’t know how to take it. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the new found trust people had in her, their ease at having her around. To her surprise Joel didn’t seem to be struggling as much. He had Tommy back after all and that seemed to be easing his discomfort. Ellie was fitting in… kinda. Her colourful vocabulary and brashness had put some of the kids off at first. But they seemed to be warming to her now.

So it was just her. Trapped in some odd isolated headspace where she didn’t quite know what to do. She didn’t mention it to Joel, didn’t want to interfere with him and Tommy as they rebuilt their relationship again. Maria had tried to pull Tess into things more, and Tess liked her. Maria didn’t take shit, she had power and was in charge. People respected her. And she didn’t let Tess mope around for too long either.

But even Maria couldn’t quite pull her out of that disconnected state completely.

Part of her felt she was being ungrateful. She was alive and as safe as anyone could possibly hope to be in the current climate. Joel was alive. Ellie was alive. She was alive. But there was just… something.

Maybe a sick part of her missed it. Missed Boston. But then again maybe it wasn’t so sick. She hadn’t liked Boston really. But spending so long in one place would always make it hard to leave behind. Even the things she had so often complained about. She found she couldn’t even sleep on her new bed, Jackson having been looked after for so long that the mattress was actually still soft. She was too used to the lumpy one in the zone, and sleeping on the ground for months.

She’d been sleeping on the couch since she’d arrived. If she even managed to sleep at all, unable to fall asleep on the soft sheets and bed.

She missed her power too. Got tetchy when she thought about who was running operations back in the zone now. Who was living in her and Joel’s apartment, had they found their stash? Who was selling her shit and walking around like she had? She had to remind herself she shouldn’t care. That wasn’t her life anymore. It never would be again. Boston was a distant memory she needed to put to rest.

But it was difficult.

The new house felt too big. The town too clean. The people too nice. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with herself. She mildly regretted living separately from Joel. Just out of… familiarity. She wasn’t used to such an open space to herself. Even before the outbreak the house she had shared with her husband and son hadn’t been so big. And she had had two other bodies to fill the space.

In Boston that tiny apartment she had had Joel to fill the gaps.

But she knew she couldn’t impose on him any longer. Joel was handsome and mellowing. He would no doubt find someone in town… and she couldn’t be the one to stand in the way of that. Especially seeing as she herself had no desire to go there. Their relationship had always been purely platonic and she had no intention of changing that.

So when Maria had asked, she had taken her own place. Ellie had taken the garage. They all had their own space. But those two seemed far better at living in it than she was.

It had taken that stark shift though for her to realise that maybe she simply wasn’t made for being alone. She had met her husband in college. They had moved in together immediately after, and had their son young. Then she’d fallen into the group heading for Boston, met Joel… she’d never really been alone.

Though she also wasn’t particularly doing anything to change that either. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Back in Boston she’d get lonely from time to time, would go out and pick someone up with ease. Now? She didn’t know where that confidence had gone.

She felt people looking at her when she ventured out. She knew she wasn’t exactly unattractive, she knew people liked to look. But she had no desire to pursue. She didn’t even entertain them for a second. And they all grew bored of trying and moved on.

Everyone was friendly enough, but some kept their distance when they realised she wasn’t the… happiest of people. But one person didn’t let the permanent frown glued to Tess’ face deter them.

You.

You lived across the street from her, would wave hello every morning when Tess ventured out to find out what tasks Maria had to keep her busy for the day. You’d smile. You’d say hello. You even left her things on the porch.

And you liked flowers.

She gathered that pretty quickly. The window boxes were full, potted bushes and blooms littered your porch and edge of the dirt path street. It made her own place look incredibly dull. But maybe that was fitting.

She’d never been one for flowers. So expensive for them to just sit and wilt away in a vase, to be left with nothing but some crisped petals and dead stems within a week. So amongst the sandwiches and pies left at her door, the odd flowering embellishments she knew came from you.

A lot of people in town left stuff for her and Joel, to welcome them. To give them things they needed. She didn’t like accepting any of it. She didn’t like the feeling of… owing people. Feeling like they would have a hold over her, that they had given her a new jacket so now she owed them something. That you had left her a pie so now you were owed something too.

So she left the majority of it exactly where it was placed on the porch, Maria being the one to bring them inside for her.

“ You are gonna attract every damn animal in town if you keep leaving this stuff on your porch Tess “ Maria used as a greeting when Tess opened the door one morning, seeing the woman standing there with what seemed to be a loaf in her hands “ and wasting food? Really? Especially this? Now this looks delicious. Still warm too “ Tess scoffed but before she could speak she heard your voice.

“ Good morning Maria! Good morning Tess! “ she looked over Maria’s shoulder to see you jogging down your porch steps and waving, thankfully turning to walk into town rather than try and start a conversation

“ morning hun “ Maria responded with a smile, glancing over to Tess when she ignored you as she always did.

“ what? “ Maria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in the way she so often did when she was at her wits end. Usually with Ellie and Joel’s bickering.

“ I’ve told you a million times. We all get along here. It’s a small town Tess, you can’t have grudges. Or.. at least public ones. I have a few secret ones myself “ Tess sighed and stepped back to let Maria inside, who only sighed too when she eyed the blanket on the couch “ you’re still sleeping on the couch? “

Tess brushed her off and grabbed her boots from by the door, sitting down to pull them on. She could already sense another of Maria’s lectures brewing, and the headache pulsing behind her temples made her hope she’d hold off on it.

“ I just fell asleep there I was… reading “ Maria did not seem even remotely convinced and walked through to place the bread down in the kitchen.

“ And what’s with the silent treatment with the doll across the street? “

“ she’s too… happy “ Maria laughed and shook her head

“ She's harmless. She’s kind “

“ she’s fuckin annoying “ Maria’s eyebrows flew up and she gave a small laugh again

“ Theresa “ it sounded almost scolding. Tess scoffed at that “ you sound like Ellie “ Tess scoffed again. Fucking Ellie?

“ calling me a kid now Maria? “

“ yeah. Cause you’re acting like one “ she sighed and stood with her hands on her hips, the way that told anyone nearby that she meant business. To shut the fuck up and listen to her “ you’re here now. And you need to stop isolating yourself “ she walked over to her and placed a hand to her arm, a gentle comforting squeeze “ I know it’s hard. I do. But you have to try “

She knew she did. She was just stubborn and stuck in her ways. And you really were… peppy. One of those people that seemed constantly in a good mood, seeing the world through rose tinted glasses and trying to spread your joy.

Tess’ own glasses had smashed a long long time ago. And she saw no reason for the amount of joy you seemed to hold.

“ I’m trying “

“ Try harder then “ Maria said before folding her arms and tilting her head a little as she watched her “ what’s going on with you? “ Tess stood up again and ran a hand through her hair, wishing she knew. Wishing she had the words to explain.

But how could she? How could she tell Maria that she wanted to go home? She wanted Boston back. That she felt out of place in Jackson and had never felt as lonely as she did in her entire life.

“ I’m fine. I’m just tired. Shall we go? “ Maria didn’t seem convinced but nodded, following her outside.

It was a nice day. Spring was in full swing now, in the weeks between Salt Lake City and settling into town the chill of winter had finally disappeared. She could see daffodils sprouting in the window boxes of your house. Her own were barron.

“ I’ve put you on farming rotation today. Sounds good? “ she nodded “ okay. It’s easy enough. Pot things, label things, pull things. It’s quite therapeutic “ she’d be the judge of that one.

She followed Maria around to the greenhouses, watching how people greeted her and smiled when they saw her. She didn’t know whether she was jealous or annoyed.

“ okay. Greenhouse 4, shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. When you’ve finished in there come find me if you want to help out some more. Okay? "She followed where Maria was pointing and stopped when she spotted someone already inside greenhouse 4.

“ are you fuckin kidding me Maria“

You.

Maria smiled and squeezed her shoulders, leaning close to her ear

“ Be nice “ Tess scoffed and turned to try and beg her to assign her anywhere else but there, but Maria was already walking off.

“ Maria- “

“ be. Nice! “

“ fuck “ she gave a frustrated huff and headed into the greenhouse, you turned around at the sound with that usual beaming smile on your face. She didn’t have the energy for this today. Didn’t have the energy for you.

“ Oh hi. I didn’t know I was paired with you today “ she stood not really knowing what she was supposed to do, annoyance practically steaming out of her ears “ you wanna get that side and I’ll continue with this side? Seeds are in that bag there, compost and soil is there, tools in the crate under the table. Okay? “

She gave a small nod and headed for the crate of tools, pulling out a small trowel and grabbing a pot. But she found her hands refusing to move. Simply staring down at the equipment in her hands. It felt like a weight was pushing down on her shoulders, crushing her chest, turning all of her muscles to lead.

“ I thought Maria would’ve had you trained up for patrols by now “ you said lightly, the sound of your trowel filling another pot “ from what I’ve heard your pretty handy with a gun “

What had you heard?

“ yeah “ she said, almost having to force herself to reply “ soon… they don’t like new people straight on patrol “ her hands still wouldn’t move.

“ figures. You could always ask her to put you on my regular route at first if you like. It’s one of the busier ones, you seem a little stressed. And well blowing the head off a clicker might be beneficial “ you laughed as you said it but quite frankly she felt you were right.

She didn’t like being unarmed. Adults in town were allowed to own their own weapons but weren’t to bring them out of their house unless they were heading on patrol. Her back pocket felt too empty without her gun there. Her fingers itched to hold it, if only for the familiarity of the metal on her fingers.

“ or why don’t you see if she’ll assign you on the hunting crew? Shooting rabbits isn’t exactly as fun as putting down clickers but. You know it’s something “ you seemed fully convinced that the answer to Tess’ supposed stress was killing something one way or another.

What had you heard about her? Who had been talking?

“ right “ she still hadn’t potted a single seed, some unmoving crushing sense of dread still heavy on her shoulders.

She didn’t know why the weight of her problems was weighing her down so heavily in the last few days. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just adjust to Jackson. Why was she feeling more anxious and depressed in the safest possible place she could be, than when she had been living under the looming threat of being murdered everyday?

No normal person's mind worked that way. No normal decent person craved the life she had once had. The familiarity back at least. She felt sick.

You were humming a song to yourself now. It felt irrationally loud in her ears. She could hear Maria’s voice in her head too. Telling her to try. To try be nice. Try to mingle.

“ thank you. For the bread “ she said in an attempt at conversation. She’d known it was you that had left it. Had seen the sprig of some kind of flower tucked into the cloth it was wrapped in. Obviously you “ but I don’t need charity “

“ it’s not charity “ you said, the sound of your tools stilling “ it’s a gift. I don’t know… welcome to town gesture that’s all “

“ Whatever it was. I don’t need it “ maybe this wasn’t exactly nice. But it needed to be said “ you can take it back if you want. I haven’t touched it “

“ alright “ she didn’t have to look at you to know your face would be reminiscent of a kicked puppy “ keep the lavender though. It’s calming… it’ll help you sleep” she turned around to look at you then. How did you know she wasn’t sleeping?

“ how- “

“ I came from a QZ myself, I spent years after that roaming. I know it takes time to adjust Tess. I barely slept a wink when I first got here… paranoid an infected was gonna jump me in my sleep or FEDRA was gonna come arrest me cause they suspected me of rebel activity… silly I know but. Our brains are hardwired into survival mode and it takes some time to shake it off “

It sounded genuinely sincere. Caring. She barely knew you and yet you seemed as though you actually wanted to help her. It made her skin prickle.

“ yeah. Well. I’m not you “ she turned back around as if to resume her previous activity. Though she had still not potted a single seed.

“ That's very clear “ even annoyed you sounded remotely cheerful still. Like no malice truly laced your words.

What was she doing here? The world was a hell hole, it was full of shitty people all doing shitty things. And there she was planting fucking carrots. In some odd altercation with you about her behaviour.

“ Tess? Everything okay? "Your hand falling on her shoulder shocked her into reality. She stepped away from your touch, moving so quickly it was as if you’d burnt her, heading for the door. She felt like she was suffocating she needed to get out “ Tess? “

“ I- I have to go “ you hurried out after her and she took a deep breath of the fresh air trying to calm herself. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t skittish and scared. She didn’t get anxious and erratic. She didn’t recognise herself anymore.

“ Can I do anything? I can get Maria or-“

“ look. I know you mean well. But I don’t need… any of this. I don’t need you thinking you’re helping all of the time “ her words were harsh and as much as you annoyed her, it was like looking at a kicked puppy “ just. Stop “

She turned away from you and headed straight for home. Home. Home that felt nothing like the word.

She felt ungrateful. People were sleeping out in the woods or in derelict buildings basically waiting to be attacked by infected. And she had a house. Warmth. Safety. But she couldn’t shake the feelings and she hated it.

She closed the town out behind her, closing the door and leaning against it to catch her breath. Why was this all so difficult for her? Why was she so incapable of adjusting to some kind of regular society again?

She debated talking to Joel. If anyone in town understood her it was him. Joel knew her inside out, could talk to her with just a look, knew what she was going to do before she did it. But he was settling in fine. He wasn’t struggling like she was. She didn’t want to weigh him down with that when he finally seemed so light.

She hid away for the rest of the day, almost expecting Maria to come and drag her back out again. But she didn’t to her relief. She had her peace and quiet to mope. To wallow in her own stupid sadness and isolation.

Until the evening.

She sighed when there was a knock on the door, probably Ellie ready to go charging around the room rambling off every piece of information about her day with an amused Joel in tow. Though she actually wouldn’t mind that.

But it wasn’t Ellie. Or Joel.

“ hey “

“ I thought- “

“ I know. Look. I just wanted to come and tell you I was sorry if I offended you or something. You just… you seemed like you needed a friend and I wanted to help “ she could tell you genuinely meant it. That you truly were one of those people that was just… nice. Good. Even after the past two decades that had twisted and warped so many others, herself included, you had somehow remained what she assumed was the same.

“ well I don’t… need any help “ you gave a small nod but didn’t immediately leave, shuffling a little awkwardly on the spot “ anything else? “

“ I noticed. I noticed you don’t have anything in the window boxes. I have some spare seeds… flowers can really help brighten the place up. I find that on sad days it’s always a little bit nicer to look at a flower than an empty box “ she opened her mouth to decline, to tell you she didn’t want you in her way. But you seemed to anticipate it “ you won’t even have to see me. Or talk to me. I can do it when you’re not home or if you are I can… I can just knock so you know I’m there. So you can wait for me to leave or- it’s just an idea “

She figured that in the long run giving you something to do that you might take as being helpful, might actually make you leave her alone a little more. And so, ever so slightly reluctantly, she sighed and nodded.

“ fine “ the smile on your face after that almost made her want to smile too. Almost. So kind. So genuine. So… bright.

“ yeah? Okay. Do you have any preferences? Or allergies? Colours maybe- “ she lifted a hand in a silent request for you to shut up.

Be nice.

She closed her eyes for a moment and gave a steady sigh, forcing some attempt at a smile onto her face.

“ anything. Anything is fine “ you gave a nod and turned slightly before pausing. You seemed to debate something for a moment before delving into your pocket and pulling out a small jar of something that looked like jam.

“ I know… I know you said you didn’t want- it goes real nice with the bread “ she waited a second before taking it from your hands. You said nothing else, just gave her a small nod of a goodbye and headed down the steps and across the street.

That evening she ate bread with the jam. It was annoyingly good.

———————————

You’d appeared the next morning to plant the seeds. And then you tended to them everyday. Watering them and doing god knows what to the soil. You would let her know you were there each time, a small knock on the door that you didn’t even mind if she didn’t answer. Just letting her know you were out there. Just as you’d said.

And as time passed she found herself answering it from time to time. Just poking her head around the door to see what you were doing, always there with your small watering can and a smile.

And that was okay. You were okay. Nothing else in her life felt right at that moment. But having a new constant did. And she had to admit that even when she woke up on the couch, rubbing at her sore neck, seeing the sprouts through the window almost made her crack a smile. Almost.

SUMMER

As the cold completely shifted from Jackson’s air she found that not even the warmth could truly raise her mood completely. Everyone in town seemed far more cheery, like the sun had some odd healing ability to make everyone more joyful after the bitter winter and the final week of spring which had been nothing but solid rain fall.

Though Tess, begrudgingly enough, found that her own joys still only stemmed from her family. But also from you. As much as she refused to admit it, she’d found herself looking forward to your small knocks on her door each morning, or on mornings where she left early for patrol she found herself almost hoping you’d be on the porch with your watering can and your smile.

Which she didn’t exactly understand or care to understand either. In fact she blatantly ignored the voices in her head warning that she was going soft. That she was beginning to almost look at you as some kind of friend.

She opened the door more often than not now, even made attempts to ask you about the flowers or ask about your day. You never probed her about herself which she liked. You didn’t pry. You let her be. You let her keep her walls fiercely guarded without so much as a complaint. And she kind of hated the fact that made her like you a little more.

And that morning was no different to the rest now, you had knocked and she had gone out to say hello. Had offered you tea and you had accepted as you so often did.

Her night had been filled with bad dreams. And she had feared that it would send her into another one of those days. Where she wanted to do nothing but hide and mope. But she had forced herself to go outside. At least to say hello.

Annoyingly to her, Maria had been right. And she lived there now. And that meant she had to try. She had to try adjust. Fit in. Be… nice.

She still felt wary around you. Maybe even more so because of how she was beginning to sort of like you. Or maybe tolerate was the better word. She told herself it was anyway. But she had been in Jackson a few months at this point. And after a few months your joy and happiness was bound to wear her down. Even if she was reluctant about it.

“ you know if you take good enough care of these they’ll bloom next spring too “ you said as she hovered by the door watching you “ it takes time and care though. Pretty things but strong enough to survive the winter if they’re tended too correctly “ your eyes flitted up to her for a moment as you said it and she felt the statement were a little more loaded than just being about the flowers.

“ I’ll leave that up to you “ you smiled warmly and looked back down at the plants.

“ here’s hoping “

Tess watched you carefully, still unsure exactly how to pinpoint what she was feeling. She was beginning to like having you around. But also your joy drove her insane. You were annoying. So unbelievably annoying with your bright smile and desire to care.

And yet… you had managed to be the one to coax her out of the house. Yes it was only to her porch but it was still out. You had given her something to almost look forward to each day.

She didn’t like it.

“ oh shit “ she blinked a couple of times to drag herself out of her head to see blood in her peripheral, dripping between your fingers and between the floorboards of the porch.

“ what did you- “

“ fucking sheers they slipped I. Look, it's fine it’s just a cut… You got a bandage or something? “ Tess nodded and glanced towards her door. She realised how bad it would seem to keep you out on the porch. To just leave you there whilst she went looking. But also the thought of you in her home…

“ yeah. Do you wanna… come in? Wanna wash it or something “ part of her almost wished you’d say no, but the relief on your face made her regret the thought instantly

“ thanks Tess “ she headed straight for the kitchen. Not even looking to see if you were behind her, rummaging around in a cupboard for her box of medical supplies.

“ wash it. The sink “ she murmured, watching you carefully from the corner of her eye as you headed for the sink beside her, cupping your hand in some attempt to not drip blood onto the tiles. She looked at your bloody hands, ignoring the guilt rising in her chest at the fact you had injured yourself doing something for her, and reached out for you. She held your cut hand in her palm, leading it carefully under the water. She could feel you watching her, eyes almost burning into her skin as she gently washed away the blood and the soil.

She focussed on the pink swirls twisting down the drain rather than looking at you.

She didn’t like it. Didn’t like how you put her on edge. She didn’t want to go delving into why exactly that was either. Why in the space of 6 months she had gone from despising your very existence, to having you in her home because you’d hurt yourself tending to her flowers. It was a lot to try and process all in one go.

“ Marias always laughing at me “ you said as she turned off the water “ says I’m one of the best snipers in town yet I’m clumsy as shit with anything else. Can shoot a clicker miles off but can’t handle a pair of gardening shears? Idiot “

Maria had told her all about your impressive skills out on patrols. She was yet to see them for herself though, Maria hadn’t paired you together yet. Thankfully. Though she couldn’t lie that curiosity on the matter was strong. She’d always had some morbid fascination with the nicest of people that were able to kill like it was second nature.

A silent chaos raging behind a gentle smile.

“ guns more important than sheers “

“ well that depends on the situation don’t you think? Gun won’t help clip the weeds “

She bandaged your hand silently with the care and tenderness that few saw from her, wrapping it up and admiring her work for a second.

She stood back when she was done not exactly knowing what to say anymore. And she hated it. Despised it. Tess always knew what to say. She was always one step ahead of everyone in the room, but she faltered when it came to you. And she didn’t know why. Or what power you seemed to hold over her as of late. Was it your kindness? Was it the simple fact that you had never shown her nothing but care and respect since day one and she just didn’t know how to accept it? Maybe.

She wandered if you noticed how she looked out of place in her own home. Surrounded by so many things that she had no connection to. Objects that weren’t hers, placed into a house that had once been lived in by others. Loved by others.

Like so many others she had gotten used to not getting attached to materialistic things. She could see you glancing around, how you could probably see that from the way the place looked so… bare. Unloved by her. Un- lived in by her. That you probably figured it out pretty quickly.

You were watching her intently as you wandered the kitchen and she didn’t like it, she didn’t like the way you made her feel like a prey animal ready to dart any moment. That wasn’t her. She wasn’t prey. She wasn’t the hunted. She was the hunter. She was the one with the upper hand.

But not with you. Not with you and your unyielding kindness and desire to know her.

So she turned around and started packing away the medical box slowly and carefully. Just to give her hands something to do.

“ why are you so afraid of me? “ you asked suddenly and she turned around with a confused look on her face. Afraid of you? Why would she possibly be afraid of someone like you.

“ what are you talking about? “

“ you’re afraid. You won’t let me in. You barely even let me be your friend. You keep trying to scare me away with being so… miserable. You have to let people in Tess… and I think it’s because you’re scared yourself I- “

“ I’m not afraid of you “ She said immediately. Her heckles raised at the intrusion. And at the confusion for your sudden lack of ability to not interfere “ are you afraid of me? “ she asked, her voice calm. And low and steady. Intimidating. The way she spoke to people in Boston who were pissing her off and she needed to remind them who she was. Her eyes had not left you for even a second. They were burning into you. Calculated. Smart. Intense.

Some desperate attempt and desire to keep you out. To make you back off. Even if it meant missing those morning knocks and tea on the porch. She couldn’t let you in. She wouldn’t.

But you weren’t afraid of her. You never had been. She could tell. You were stubborn. So unbearably kind but stubborn. Stubborn in the way you had kept up your daily visits even when she wouldn’t answer her door, in the way you still waved at her before she even spoke to you. So stubborn in the way you were standing your ground before her.

“ no. I know I should be. I know what you did. But I’m not “ she folded her arms across her chest, quirking a brow. Who had you been talking to? What could you possibly know. So you hadn’t been refraining from asking her questions all along, you’d been getting your information else where. She was almost impressed. It was smart. Calculated even.

At this point she wouldn’t be surprised if you’d cut yourself on purpose to get inside and make her talk.

“ oh? Oh you know what I did? “

“ someone in town… was gossiping I- everyone’s done bad things “ you said with a shrug.

“ what do you know? “ she advanced on you then. Slowly. Crossing the room to where you stood by the wall. You didn’t move. You held your ground.

“ a lot “

“ tell me “ she wanted to hear you say it. To confirm if what you knew was true. But also because maybe some sick part of her needed reminding what she had once been capable of. Of what she had been before she had become that misery of a human whose only joys came from her pseudo kid and the woman who planted flowers for her.

“ all the people you killed. Tortured “ your voice had dropped to almost a whisper as she stood in front of you. But you still didn’t look scared. And she couldn’t decide how that made her feel. Annoyed? Because she clearly didn’t hold the fear inducing powers she once had. Or… relieved? That she had finally come across someone that took what she had done and dusted it under the rug. Accepted it and moved on.

“ and it doesn’t scare you? “

“ you must’ve had your reasons “ there was a heavy tension hanging in the air, she could feel it thickly between you. Soon enough one of you would choke “ I know what you did. I don’t care. You can’t scare me away Tess “ at this point she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to.

No one had challenged her like that. No one like you anyway. No one so… sweet.

Her old self would’ve laughed. Would’ve laughed in your face and thrown you out. But then again. Her old self would’ve laughed at what she had become too.

Things had changed. And she needed to accept it.

“ stop trying to scare me off “ to her surprise you reached up, your hand gentle on her face. She recoiled at first. As if your fingers were steeped in acid and you’d blistered her skin with your touch. But you waited a moment and did it again. And she froze, unsure of what you were doing or how she was supposed to react to it “ I want to be your friend. Let me. You don’t have to scare every single person that wants to care for you away. If anything you damn well need it “

She didn’t know what to say. Stood there like she was made of stone with your gentle hand on her cheek, your face full of nothing but warmth and affection for her. She felt like a deer in headlights.

“ you don’t know what I need “ she finally spoke, taking a single step back so that your hand fell away. Though she was certain she could still feel it. A kind touch was so unfamiliar to her, so rare that it lingered in her skin “ you know nothing about me “

“ I know enough “ so stubborn. So unwilling to take no for an answer or let yourself be pushed away. She kind of liked it. Liked the challenge “ you have to let people in. Let me in. I know how you feel- “

“ how could you possibly know how I feel “ she almost spat “ you’ve lived here. Comfortable and safe “ you gave a small laugh at that

“ not always “ she didn’t know why she had assumed you had been there so long, maybe because you were so… settled. Adapted “ spent two years captured by a bunch of slavers before I even set foot in Jackson. I’m not some sheltered little girl born into comfort Tess “ she took a step back, eyes narrowing as she tried to asses the new information presented to her.

She knew about slavers. Had been taken by them herself at one point. But two years? She had been there two days, in a tiny camp as they prepared to move her to their main base before she’d managed to get away. Those two days had been hell. She couldn’t imagine two years.

Maybe she had underestimated you after all.

But before she could answer you properly there was another knock to her door.

“ only me! “ Maria’s voice sounded as she entered the house, opening her mouth to say something else but stopping when she saw you stood there. She looked violently overjoyed “ oh! I’m sorry. Didn’t know you had company “ it must have been an odd sight to walk into. Tess as stoney faced as ever and you practically gazing at her.

“ sorry I- “

“ did you need something? “ Tess asked

“ lunch, the whole family. Good haul from the hunting crew today “ family. Her family. As dysfunctional as it was she very much wanted to escape the current situation and see them “ but if you’re busy- “

“ no. I’m not. She was just leaving “ she glanced over at you as you gave a small nod and a smile, quietly excusing yourself and heading for the door.

“ just. Think about what I said Tess? I’ll see you tomorrow “

She didn’t hear the end of that for the entirety of lunch. Maria not usually one to pry. But knowing very much that Ellie and Tommy would. Casually mentioning it and… that was that.

Ellie seemed particularly delighted. Looking at her in a way that she recognised from her own childhood when she realised liking girls wasn’t just a her thing. That she wasn’t the only one. But Tess didn’t probe. Though she was happy in the knowledge Ellie would come to her if she needed.

“ y’know I think it’s real nice “ Joel said to her when she stepped outside stating she needed a little air “ she’s softenin you “ Tess scoffed and folded her arms across her chest

“ you have no idea what you’re talking about. She’s a neighbour. And she looks after the flowers. She’s a pain in my ass”

“ baby steps Tess “ she glanced over at him and he was giving her that look that said he knew something was going on inside her head “ you leave the house more now “

“ to my porch and back “ she mumbled not entirely wanting to get into that conversation. She was not in the mood to discuss her long hours trapped inside her house. And her head.

“ baby. Steps “ she sighed and ran a hand over her face. She was tired.

“ she wants to be my friend “ it sounded so unbelievably juvenile to say out loud. She almost regretted saying it

“ and… you don’t want that? “

“ no “ she said maybe a little too quickly

“ right “ she could feel him watching her, trying to read her as he so often did. The way only two people who had been together for so long could do “ I don’t think I believe that “

“ I’m not asking you to “ he sighed again, used to her stubbornness. Her bad moods.

“ you are allowed to have friends Tess. And… more than that. I don’t know what that girls intentions are, I don’t pretend to know how your mind works either. But if you really didn’t like her then why are you still lettin her around? Tess I know would’ve told her to fuck off and threatened her for good measure for even tryna talk to you if you didn’t like her “

“ you’re talking shit “ he laughed and shrugged

“ you’re proving my point. Tess. Just do something. If you want her? Go get her. Tess I know would. And if not? Tell her to leave you be. Cause this mood you’re in… it’s not nice to see “

“ ‘ the Tess you know’ “ she muttered under breath. She didn’t feel like that Tess anymore.

By the time she walked home she couldn’t tell if she was more annoyed by the entire situation or relieved by it because somehow Joel of all people had begun to put things into perspective for her.

Maybe it was both.

Though the annoyance was slightly winning out. She wasn’t soft. She didn’t like the implications that you were softening her. She was stronger than that. Stronger than you. She hadn’t pushed you away because Maria said she needed to be nice. That’s why.

It was.

Wasn’t it?

She felt a sudden desperate need to prove to herself that what she was thinking was correct. And not Joel.

She was not soft. She was in control.

She didn’t quite know what it was that compelled her feet to head up your porch steps rather than her own. Knocking on the door before she’d even fully come to a halt.

Waiting impatiently for you to answer, looking a little surprised to see her when you did appear.

She pushed past the threshold, watching you take a step back in mild confusion at her sudden intrusion, cupping your face in both her hands and kissing you. You stumbled for barely half a second, kissing her back with a muffled moan and your fingers wrapping around her wrists.

The confidence she was used to felt far more present in your space, in the four walls of your home rather than her own.

She pressed you up against the closest wall, kissing you like her life depended on it. Far more in control than she was a few hours earlier. Than she had been in a while.

And this was it. This was the familiarity she had craved wasn’t it? This was the power she had been missing, the ability to take what she wanted when she wanted it. Even when she wasn’t entirely sure it was what she wanted.

So why didn’t it feel the same. Why did it not even slightly fill the void in her chest.

You were breathing heavily as she pulled away to catch her own breath, a joyful almost dopey smile on your face. You looked so incredibly beautiful. Sweet.

She’d break you. She would. She knew she would. It was a vicious awful cycle. Anyone she got close to got hurt. Friend or… more. It would all end the same way.

“ this won’t end well “ she said quietly, not entirely meaning to say it out loud. The words escaping her as she watched you, someone so beautiful and kind didn’t belong with someone like her.

Someone who had not let the awful things that happened to them twist them into something unrecognisable. In the way that Tess had.

It would be a mess.

“ maybe not “ you answered, voice just as quiet “ but did you ever stop to think that maybe it will be okay? “

“ no “ you laughed softly, head leaning back against the wall and your eyes falling closed for a moment. She wished she could have such a carefree look. She didn’t think her face even knew how to relax into such an expression.

“ have a little faith “

AUTUMN

It had been over 20 years since her life had completely fallen apart. And a lot could happen in 20 years. A lot had happened. Tess was good at having bad shit happen and then burying it so deep down that she didn’t have to think about it. She was good at having a blank face when inside she was screaming. But in the end, one person could only hide so much stuff for so long. Eventually it would spill. And every now and again it did.

And when it did? It was suffocating.

It struck her out of no where. She never saw it coming.

Sometimes it almost scared her. Scared her that the stuff she had done wasn’t even the worst of what kept her up at night. She had no remorse for the people she had killed. Tortured. Those bodies and those sounds. They didn’t haunt her. The stuff that had come before that had damaged her beyond repair.

The first few years had been the worst. Before FEDRA had full control, before any rules were in full effect. When everyone ran rampant, when people looted and murdered because they felt like it. When groups formed and did whatever they wanted. To who they wanted. When Tess had been alone. Had left her home with nothing but the clothes on her back and ran. And ran. And by some miracle survived.

That time before Joel. Before the entirety of the group making their way up to Boston.

Tess didn’t get scared. She wasn’t afraid of things. But she had been back then. She had been so afraid.

So utterly powerless and out of control.

She tried to see the positives as ridiculous as it sounded. Tried to twist the shitty things that had happened. The shitty things that she had done. She had done them to survive. And maybe that scared her even more. That she felt justified in her actions.

That she could think back to certain people she had tortured. Killed. Ambushed. And justify it. Not feel as though she had done the wrong thing at all.

And that she would do it all again if she needed to.

She would throw herself in front of trucks feigning an injury. Just a poor, defenceless woman. Beg for help only for Joel and the others to spring from the bushes and take everything they had. She’d kill every man and woman that got in the way of her rise in the smuggling ring. She’d tortured ever last piece of information out of those fuckers who had taken Ellie. Murdered every. Last. Firefly. In that hospital.

All again. A million times over.

But her humanity was still in her somewhere. Buried deep down but there. And when it reared its head it was ugly. Filled with words to make her feel like the worst person alive. Fill her ears with the strangled cries of her son. The sickening sound of the blood that pooled in her husband’s throat.

It made her feel numb. Like she was floating. No longer in her body and desperately trying to claw her way back down to it.

“ Tess? “ she was too lost to react. Too deep inside her own head to even turn around and look at you. But she knew that voice. The voice that had become as familiar as Maria’s. Ellie’s. Joels “ Tess what are you doing it’s freezing out here “ your voice was soft compared to the voices that were screeching inside her head, soothing. Gentle. Quieter yet somehow speaking over the screaming ones.

Your hands fell onto her arm and she flinched, shifting away from your touch.

“ hey. Sorry “ you said softly, hands raised in some kind of surrender “ won’t touch you again “ the voices were still shouting at her, but a little further off now. Like she was on one side of the room and they were on the other. And wasn’t that interesting. Where in the past only Joel had been able to coax her back to reality. Ground her. Now you had. And she had known you far less “ can I sit? “ she gave a small nod and you sat down, leaving a small gap between you both.

Things between the two of you had been a little different as of late.

You hadn’t kissed since that day she’d barged through your front door and re established that she was very much the one holding the reins. But she was letting herself be lighter. Trying her hardest to open up to you. To go into town more. Smile back at people. And it was hard. And slow going. But she was getting there.

Baby steps. Like Joel had said.

“ I’m gonna go get a blanket okay? It’s so cold “ she listened as you went inside, returning a few moments later.

“ why are you here? “ she asked as you sat down beside her again, wrapping the blanket around you both.

“ I was out on late patrol. I saw the light on… was gonna come see why you were still up. Have a chat or something… you didn’t answer so I just poked my head inside and I saw the back door was open“

She gave a small nod and continued staring out at the backyard. She hadn’t really done much to it. But there was a rope swinging attached to the large tree at the bottom now. Ellie loved it.

“ do you need to talk? About anything? “ you asked quietly “ it’s what friends are for you know. Talking “

“ I’ve never been very good at friends “ you gave a small laugh and nodded

“ yeah. I figured that one out myself “ you shuffled a little closer to her, nudging her leg with yours “ you must’ve had friends at some point “

The ones that truly stuck in her mind were Bill and Frank. Frank would’ve loved you she realised very quickly. You were so alike. So happy. Made to see the positive in absolutely every single thing. Yet becoming friends with Frank had been far easier than becoming friends with you.

She’d been different back then.

“ I had. I had friends “ she started, realising in that moment that she had never actually spoken about Bill and Frank since they’d died. Her and Joel had done as they always had and refused to talk about it. Let it settle and weigh heavy until it began to dissipate on its own “ they lived a few miles out of Boston. Met them over the radio “

“ they weren’t in a zone? “

“ no. Bill… fuckin crazy been planning for doomsday his whole life. Had the whole town mapped out and wired up “ she actually cracked a small smile thinking about it “ Frank though. I think. I think he’s the closest thing to a friend I really had “

She missed him. She missed them both. And missing Bill was something she never thought she’d feel, even if he was more open to her company than Joel’s.

You listened diligently as she spoke about Lincoln. Dinners in the garden and Bills stash of supplies, the awkwardness that always lingered between Bill and Joel. The bi monthly drop offs that had started increasing in distance as Frank got sicker and Bill got older. And then finding them with Ellie. The silent moment she had taken in the garden to cry for her lost friends whilst Ellie showered and Joel fixed the car.

“ they sound like amazing people “ she shrugged and glanced over at you for a moment. And maybe it was silly of her to take so long to realise it. But maybe she had a friend in you, maybe more than that. Maybe she had done all along and had been too blinded by her own self loathing and moping around to truly notice it.

It was the early hours of the morning and there you were, sat on her porch steps in the dark. Listening to her talk. Comforting her. And she realised that you were exactly what she needed. In that moment and every other moment to follow. Your compassion and your calming force of a personality. The way you cared…. Loved even. Your stubbornness. Your loyalty.

“ thank you “ she said quietly “ for being here “ you looked up at her and smiled. That warm, sweet smile that made even the coldest of days feel mild. Tess was all sharp edges and bitter words, someone so soft should be keeping a safe distance to ensure they didn’t get cut. But you weren’t afraid. You never had been “ for everything “ she didn’t want to elaborate and you didnt make her.

She reached forward to cup your face in her hand, thumb tracing over your cheekbone. You understood her in a way it had taken Joel 20 years to. Some odd force of nature that wiggled your way through the cracks in her heavily guarded walls.

Her eyes drifted down to your lips. Remembering the hard, forceful kiss you had shared that one time before. The kind she was used to. The kind she was good at. She wasn’t very good at being tender and caring. Kissing and all that lead from it had long since been something she did out of care and love. It was a means to an end. A release. A way to remind herself she was human.

But it didn’t have to be that way anymore.

“ you gonna kiss me or not? “ you whispered. And it made her lips twitch into a smile.

Tess had kissed a lot of people in her time. And if she was perfectly honest she wasn’t entirely a fan. Kisses were not like how the movies or books portrayed them most of the time. Uncoordinated or clumsy, too much teeth or tongue. She didn’t care much for kissing.

But kissing you was different. Kissing you was like a shot of adrenaline straight into her veins. It was the closest she felt she could come to understanding why Joel had been so hooked on pills before Ellie. It was addictive.

But something had changed now. Some locked gate inside of her had finally clicked open and you had seized the opportunity to slip your way inside. And she surprised herself with the realisation that it actually didn’t seem all that terrifying now, having you there. Having those feelings and thoughts.

Of course there was still… something. But it was less so.

Holding your face in her hand, your willingness to let her lead and melt into her. With every soft and gentle movement of her lips against yours she felt herself slipping. Like when the winter storms would hit Boston and her worn down boots couldn’t find grip on the icy paths.

But this slip wouldn’t end with her falling flat on her ass and nursing a bruised leg. You were keeping her tethered. Your fingers that were looped around her wrist, your hair that was tickling her face.

It made her feel startlingly real. Alive. Present. Present in a moment in a way she hadn’t done all day, she’d spent the day drifting. Some far off place in her head where her demons scrambled over her and suffocated the air out of her lungs. But she was breathing fine now, breathing in air that was yours, breathing as if you were her air.

She kissed you until her jaw started to ache, not sure how long it had been or how many quick seconds apart to catch her breath there had been. But when she finally did let you go the fog that had been blinding her all day seemed to have disappeared. Everything felt as though she were looking through glasses that had just had the lenses cleaned.

Sharper. Clearer.

“ it’s really fuckin cold “ she murmured, causing a giggle to bubble past your lips.

“ yeah. It’s freezing “ you didn’t seem even mildly pissed that that had been her first words after practically kissing your face off. Instead you both silently seemed to agree to go inside, collapsing onto her couch and kissing some more.

Something had shifted after that. Had changed after she’d woken up the following morning on the couch with you.

She actively chose to be around you, even more so than she had been. Spent enough time with you that people began to murmur about it. But she found she no longer cared.

There was still an odd weight looming in her chest, one she was certain may never actually go away. But it was far lighter than it had been.

WINTER

Tess had always preferred winter to summer. Especially after Boston. She hated those sticky summer days. Especially in that apartment that was freezing in winter but a sauna in the summer, no comfortable in between. Days when she felt like the heat was suffocating her and every drop of water she drank sweated its way out of her within the minute.

Winter felt so much… fresher. She liked the snow and the opportunities to wrap up and be warm on her own terms.

Some people found it bleak. But she rather enjoyed it.

You seemed to like it too. Because you could use the cold weather as an excuse to be close to her. And it felt nice. To have you there, to have you wanting to be near her. Even if she was beginning to believe you were forgetting your gloves on purpose now so she would hold your hand.

The arrival of the winter months had brought along the silent confirmation that you two were… something now. Dating didn’t feel right. That word didn’t feel like it belonged in the world anymore. And there had been no real discussions of the matter, mostly due to her own refusal to mention it. And ‘girlfriend’… it felt a little juvenile. Even if was Ellie teasing her every fucking day that you were in fact her girlfriend now.

Jackson was starting to feel more like somewhere she could begin to call home. Riding back through the gates with Joel, watching them close behind her but not feeling that feeling of imprisonment anymore. Not feeling as trapped as the walls in Boston, but finally feeling safe.

She walked into the Bison, happy to find it slightly less crowded than it could be. She walked over to the bar, smiling at the guy stood drying off a glass

“ hey… she here? “ something in her still prickled with an odd sense of anxiety that she didn’t need to ask for you by name now. That they all knew who she meant. That Tess would not venture into the bison alone for anyone else, and that you would never be leaving with anyone else but her.

But she pushed it aside.

“ yeah she’s out the back. I’ll grab her “ she waited patiently as he disappeared through the door, glancing around with some still deep rooted fear that someone was watching her. She didn’t think she’d ever shake that. But she had to remind herself that no one there was after her. No one there was watching her to find her weakness and abuse it.

“ hey you “ you appeared through the door a few moments later and you greeted with that beaming smile of yours, looking at her as if she were the singular source of joy in your life. You leant over the bar and she met you half way, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. It was the kind of kiss that was… familiar. The kind two people in love shared without thought, something as simple and regular as breathing.

“ having fun? “

“ oh yeah. Making sandwiches, riveting stuff “ she watched you wipe your hands off on a towel before slipping your way out from behind the bar “ but I’d really like to go home now “ Tess nodded and offered you her arm without needing to be asked, your hands slipping into their usual place and huddling close against her.

It was getting chillier out, the sky had taken on that odd yellowy state that signalled impending snow. The kind of day that back in Boston would’ve been some forewarning of an impending low ration season. But there was no such thing in Jackson.

You spoke about your shift in the bison as you walked and Tess listened diligently, all the while silently musing over you asking to go home. And very much heading with Tess towards hers.

But. You stayed over more often than not now. Your things were starting to intermingle with her own, the space that had previously felt so barren and so disconnected from herself… now felt almost like a home.

There were some of Ellie’s drawings tacked to the fridge, her talent alone making the space seem a little more lived in. A few pictures had been framed now too and dotted about the place. Tess, Joel and Ellie over for dinner at Tommy and Maria’s. Another of Ellie pulling a stupid face with Joel looking slightly amused at her side. One of you and her, you beaming at the camera as she looked at you. Maria had taken that one much to Tess’ original dismay. But she was quite thankful for it now.

That was the first piece of you that had made its way into her home.

You had a toothbrush in her bathroom now. A spare jacket on the hooks by the door. A small box of gardening tools by the front door. A hand knitted blanket across the back of her couch.

You were in the air even. The air wafted of the flowers you adored wherever you went, you filled the place she had only ever referred to as a house into home.

And sometimes it almost made her want to laugh. Laugh at herself for what she had become. Tess didn’t take things slow like this. Tess didn’t let her space be invaded by someone else. Tess didn’t have feelings or let herself… love.

Which was exactly what she was feeling more and more these days. Which was completely and utterly terrifying but she found she was just letting it happen. Because she could. And because she was allowed to.

She wasn’t old Tess anymore. If anything she was beginning to feel as though she was slowly becoming more and more like the version of herself that had existed before an apocalypse had destroyed the world. The kind of woman that did date and did take things slow. That had girlfriends or boyfriends and wasn’t scared. Was care free and happy.

And maybe that was more scary than the fear she had felt at losing the version of herself that had developed over 20 years of hell.

She was beginning to think that nothing would ever be without fear these days. But she was working on it. And it was lessening.

And you becoming a permanent fixture in her house was part of that.

Quite often the nights ended exactly as they currently were too. With you walking home together, cuddling up together on the couch to escape the chill of winter.

And making out until she forgot how to breathe.

It had not been more than that. She hadn’t allowed herself to let it be. Had happily let you sit in her lap or let you pull her down over you and sink into the couch cushions. But she never let it progress.

She didn’t truly think about why and you had never asked it of her either. Until tonight.

“ why are you holding back? “ you whispered, pulling back from her slightly. Still close enough that she could feel your breath against her lips.

Why was she holding back?

Because you weren’t some random girl she picked up in the zone because she was bored and lonely. Because until you, sex had become something with little feeling. Something to do because she needed some human contact that wasn’t Joel stitching up a stab wound.

And it was funny, really, when she thought about why she was holding back. Why as much as she may have wanted to, as much as the old her would’ve gone and gotten what she wanted months ago… she hadn’t.

Because it hadn’t felt right. Hadn’t been the time. You deserved more than that. You deserved more than a quick, meaningless fuck off somewhere secluded because she wanted to feel like a human being again. No, you deserved more.

Maybe you still did. She couldn’t figure it out yet.

But what she did know, was if now was not the time then she would wait. She would wait a million and one lifetimes. As much as she knew the short serotonin boost would breathe some life into her for a few hours again… she would endure. Because when she really thought about it, that wasn’t what she wanted really.

She wanted you. Of course she did. Needed you. In every single sense of the phrase. You had been a shiny little light in her darkness, you had prevailed and endured her bitterness to discover something sweet hiding beneath.

And so you deserved the best. Deserved every ounce of love and compassion Tess could find deep within herself.

“ where’d you go? Hm? “ you whispered softly, fingers trailing along the side of her face and tucking an unruly strand of her greying hair behind her ear “ you seem… else where “

“ just thinkin “ your touch was gentle, fingertips somehow still smooth and soft. So different to hers, calloused from years of fighting and doing shitty jobs in the QZ. She felt too rough for you. Too sharp around the edges. Like her hold on you alone could shatter you.

She knew in reality you weren’t delicate. She had watched you shoot like a trained marksmen. Had seen you jump on clickers and stab them until you face was splattered in blood. Chop firewood for town like it was nothing. You were strong. Capable. And yet she felt like she could bruise you like a peach just by looking at you wrong. She was no stranger to your strengths, your capabilities. Yet to her? She felt she could always see you as breakable.

Fine China. Soft fruit. The petals of the flowers you cared so much about.

Soft and pure and delicate. Not made to be touched by the rough and ready hands of the likes of her

And yet…

“ thinking about me? “ you said it with a small laugh, half joking. Half hoping. She gave you a small smile, a small nod.

“ of course “ it came out so quiet she wasn’t even sure she’d really said it right away. But your warm smile told her she had. And you’d heard. And even now, even in that moment, she still took a moment to be amazed at that smile. Amazed that it was because of her. You were smiling because she was thinking of you. You were on her mind. And you liked that.

Her hands twitched slightly at their place on your waist. Almost involuntarily. Like they were trying to make her move, go ahead. Do… something.

You looked down for a second before letting go of your gentle hold of her face, sliding your hands along her arms and trailing your fingers over her wrists.

“ I’m not going to break “ you picked up her hands, moving them down to brush over your ass, your thighs “ you can touch me “ she was afraid she’d do something stupid like blush. So she kissed you again, gently tugging you close by her soft hold on your thighs.

Your hands slid back up her arms, over her shoulders, up to hold the back of her neck, your fingertips slipping under the collar of her shirt. Everything about you was soft. Precise and purposeful. She could practically feel the desire radiating out of your fingers. But also the care.

She hadnt been touched like that in… a while. Touched in a way that conveyed love. A way that was gentle. Caring. Deliberate and slow. Like you wanted to take your time, in a way akin to how you had behaved since you had met her. You wanted to know her. To understand her. To peel back the layers she kept pulling on to keep you out.

And maybe a part of her would always want to keep you out, deep down. Fear of the unknown. Fear of a vulnerability she was still learning to adjust to.

But she was adjusting. Had been. And it felt right now. Felt right having the soft weight of you on her thighs, having your gentle fingers rid her of her sweater. Felt the shame of her equally as raging desire dissipate.

It was okay. She was okay.

She watched your deft fingers carefully unbutton your plaid shirt, one that now she thought about it looked remarkably like one of hers. When had you taken that she wondered.

She let her hands slip over the bare skin of your waist, disappearing under the soft worn cotton of your- her? - shirt. There was a scar along your ribs, the kind that had been there a while. No longer angry and red but faded and soft. She ran her thumb across it.

“ chains “ you said, answering her unasked question.

“ the slavers? “ she murmured, still tracing her thumb over the long stretch of scarred skin. You hummed a reply, your eyes watching her intently

“ plenty of permanent reminders of those fuckers on me “ it still baffled her how you had endured such cruelty and appeared on the other side as gentle as you were. She wanted to track those fuckers down. Torture every single last one that had even looked at you wrong. And reserve a special place in hell for the ones who had left their permanent marks.

She leant forward, dipping her head and pressing her lips to the scar. Your chest deflated in a soft sigh as she did, ghosting her lips over the skin in some feeble attempt to replace the pain with care. Your fingers laced into her hair, silently urging her to kiss you some more. And she did. She kissed up your chest, breath stuttering embarrassingly as her cheek brushed against the cotton covered swell of your chest as she pressed kisses to your sternum.

Everything about you was soft.

She inhaled deeply, your skin smelt of that familiar scent of being outdoors. As if winter air had been bottled and sprayed across your skin like perfume. Something so usually mundane and common place, yet intoxicating on you.

She kissed up your neck, skin in flames with every single soft sigh it caused you to let out.

“ can… can I.. “ you said in between kisses, hands now fumbling with the button of her jeans.

“ not here “ she murmured, pulling away from your lips slightly reluctantly “ you deserve better than the fuckin couch “ that made you smile, head titling to the side inquisitively.

“ well aren’t you just a lady “ Tess scoffed, patting your leg gently to urge you to stand up

“ lady? You must be thinkin of someone else “ you seemed reluctant to stop kissing her, grabbing her multiple times on the way out of the lounge. Including a long pause on the stairs where she almost regretted suggesting you move. And seriously debated just letting the entire thing play out right there on the staircase.

She’d never really been one for kissing. But with you she couldn’t stop. She was obsessed. A woman possessed. And she was taking her time.

But she remained on track. Leading you into her bedroom and the bed she had barely slept in.

She sat down on the edge, watching you as you closed the door before turning to her. Leaning back against it for a moment.

You were truly something. Stood there in your jeans and your bra. Your mismatched socks and your ruffled hair. Lips kiss swollen and eyes watching her intently.

“ c’mere “ she said quietly, gesturing you over with a tilt of her head. You wandered over, coming to a stop in front of her and reaching out to cup her face gently “ you’re so fuckin beautiful you know “ she said, not entirely intending to say it out loud and rather just think it. But the blush that crept across your cheeks made her glad she had said it.

“ you think? “ she hummed a reply, her fingers trailing up and down the backs of your thighs.

She didn’t know what it was about having you there in that room. Her room. Alone. It felt so incredibly intimate. In fact the entire night had. She’d never taken such… time. Time to explore and to appreciate, to admire. And now to have you in bedroom, a room she had barely been able to step foot in alone since arriving in town. But felt almost at ease with you there.

It was a lot to attempt to process all at once. And so she decided not to. That it wasn’t the time to send herself spiralling into yet another pit of despair and dread, she focussed all her attention back to you.

“ you’re sweet “

“ I’m not sweet I’m honest “ you smiled again at that. In reality she was not an honest person. She was deceitful and not to be trusted by anyone but Joel. But you trusted her. And she was honest with you.

She was. You truly were beautiful. And she felt a fool that it had taken her as long as it had to stop and really look at you. Had spent so long despising your presence rather than admiring you from day one.

She slipped her hands further up your legs, cupping the denim clad flesh of your ass and pushing you forward slightly. You took the hint, stepping over her legs and placing yourself back in her lap. Your arms looped loosely around her neck.

She couldn’t resist diving forward, lips against your neck and teeth grazing your soft skin in a way that made the most delicious sounds leave your lips.

“ oh, Tess “ your fingers tugged lightly at her hair as she continued her gentle assault, hands wandering and desperate to touch as much of you as she could. “ I can’t take much more of this teasing “ you whispered after a few moments, tugging at her hair to make her raise her head.

Her fingers ghosted over the blooming marks on your skin. Blossoming spots of red and purple, marks of a gentle cruelty that had sent the most beautiful look of bliss to overcome your face. Yet another mark of possession on your skin, but not of chains and binds this time…. Of hatred. But of teeth. Of lips. Of desire.

Possession through the deep rooted need to keep you as her own, but simply to hold. To protect. To love.

“ Tess “ she wouldn’t make you wait any longer. She wanted to keep touching, to commit every single inch of you to memory. But she figured that she’d have plenty of opportunities to do so.

And she would give you anything you asked of her. So she would not make you wait.

Through a desire blurred haze she manoeuvred you to lay down, a blur of clothing making its way to the floor and soft moans as her hands ventured downwards.

“ no no keep looking at me “ she said, her voice as quiet as it had been since you’d lead her up those stairs, coaxing your head up from where you were hiding with her free hand “ that’s it I wanna see you “ you slipped a hand to the nape of her neck, pulling her down to press your forehead against hers with a small nod, lips parted slightly as she moved her fingers in soft circles.

She lost track of time. Of all straight forward thinking. The seconds and the minutes all blurring into a moonlit haze of body parts in her mind. She took her time, breaking you down and unwinding every single knot under your skin.

Nothing else existed outside the four walls of that room, just you and her. The soft lewd sounds of her fingers between your legs, your quiet whimpers and gasps into her mouth, the rustle of the sheets beneath you as you arched and writhed beneath her.

There was something incredible about having you there, foreheads pressed together as she hovered over you, something so… romantic. How your hands held onto her, fingertips warm like they were branding her skin. Isolated in that room in a newer way than she had been used to.

And when she finally brought you to your long awaited climax, she watched you intently. Admiring the beautiful way your face moved and contorted in pleasure, watching your lips part and your legs tremble.

You returned the favour once you’d regained your regular breathing pattern. Pushing her onto her back and leading a trail of soft kisses down her chest and her stomach, settling between her legs and sending her eyes falling into the back of her head.

Her back arching off the mattress and her hand twisting into your hair, relishing in a bliss she hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time.

And then you lay there together. A comfortable silence enveloping the room, only disturbed by the occasional kiss or soft sigh.

Tess’ fingers played gently with your hair, inevitably lulling you into sleep. And she took the time to think.

She realised that in the time she had lived there it was her first night actually sleeping in her bed. She glanced down at where you were sound asleep on her chest, the weight and warmth of you pressed against her keeping away any anxious thoughts that wanted to creep into her mind.

And she didn’t want to escape downstairs, didn’t want to run. To push you away and tell you to leave. That sleeping together was far more intimate to her than any form of sex act could be.

The thoughts didn’t come.

It had taken her meeting you to finally come to terms with what her life was now. And the things that she had done. That in the current climate there were really no good or bad people. Just human beings trying to survive. Do whatever it took to live to see another day. Doing unspeakable things to get by and trying to convince themselves afterwards that they had done the right thing. That they had had no choice.

And that was okay. She was coming to peace with that. She would never fully forget, but neither would anyone else. But that was okay. Because as long as she had you by her side, she was quite content in the knowledge that she could handle it.

That then come spring those flowers you had planted would bloom again and she would let her fears die with the frost.

Everything would be okay.

#I post this reluctantly #because you read anons have been so rude to me lately #unnecessary #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #the last of us #tlou #tess tlou #tess x reader #Joel miller #ellie williams #x you #x reader #tlou fanfiction #Anna torv #tlou hbo

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