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saerins · 10 months

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𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.1k | content: fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of jealousy/insecurities

notes: of course when i’m back i write for sae … who else is possible of holding me hostage like this ? :’)

summary: he’s stupid and stubborn and bad at being a boyfriend. you make him want to be better though. always.

itoshi sae has a bad habit.

he’s not used to relationships, or the notion of having to care for someone in a certain romantic way that tests his own boundaries. this much is apparent in the way he’s only ever had one relationship before you and it was over before he started, because he’d chosen career over his ex.

and no, the situation right now with you isn’t like that. even so, it’s tough; when you feel down for no particular reason and sae doesn’t know how to handle it. and sometimes he’s tired too and you catch him at the wrong timing and you both end up sulking the entire night.

you won’t lie—you have a bad habit too. you can’t really bring yourself to express exactly how you feel. it’s difficult to open up just like that, especially when you aren’t used to it. but sae’s especially confused with how to handle these situations, like right now.

right now; when you’re sobbing in front of him and he’s feeling frustrated. when you can’t really handle the heat well—he’s a world-renowned soccer player, one of the world eleven. and next to him, no one even knows you. not when you have a non-disclosure agreement and have to keep everything super private.

it’s funny how you thought it’d be simple. then again, you didn’t factor in all the external disturbances. it tests your patience whenever sae makes the headlines when he’s out for a simple lunch with friends and makes it to the front page with a dating rumor with a top model. it’s tough for you to hold it in when you see people shipping him with someone you can only wish to be.

insecurity just hits you sometimes.

“is it really that hard to just assure me, sae?”

that includes now, when you’ve just had a shitty day and he’s so so tired from all the events he’s had to go to now, having to parade around with that top model, all to promote a brand’s upcoming fragrance line. emotions run high, neither of you have the capacity to deal with this right now.

“look, i’m so fucking tired, can we just deal with this in the morning?”

some pessimistic part of you is telling you he’ll just brush it off in the morning—all the jealousy, the frustration. you don’t even think you can last staying mad at him for that long.

“what’s the problem with talking about it now?”

“i don’t want to talk about it now, could you just let it go for the night?”

both of your voices get higher and higher, just a hair’s breadth away from actual shouting. that’s when sae reels himself in, averting his gaze.

and there goes sae’s bad habit; grabbing his keys and walking out of your shared apartment, no umbrella even though it’s raining outside and he’ll get soaked just trying to walk to the car.

you can’t find it in yourself to tell him to stay safe because you’re all out of energy tonight. everything has been sucked dry into your anxiety, and you’re spent. now what can you even do besides curl up on the couch, wondering if you’re too much?

when your phone lights up, you catch the wallpaper—a picture of sae looking off camera while he presses a kiss on your head.

it just makes you feel worse.

he’s tired. his efforts are spent. on soccer, not you. but still. it’s exhausting. couldn’t you have just waited for a few more fucking hours?

he’s tired. so fucking tired.

“hey.”

it’s a lame greeting, but that’s all he can manage right now. shidou’s in his doorway, a cock in his brow and a very annoyed look on his face.

“oi, i got a girl here—”

“don’t care, i’ll just crash on the couch,” sae cuts him off, trudging through the door and settling himself on the leather black couch, the familiarity sinking in. he used to live here with shidou before he got together with you after all.

shidou mumbles something like suit yourself before he leaves his old roommate be, mulling over the remains of his relationship with you.

sae opens his phone, the picture of you at the beach that he snapped glaring at him in this dim light. he swallows the lump in his throat—he doesn’t know how to feel. part of him knows that you feel like shit each time he does this; you’ve made it known over at least three different occasions now. but his head’s throbbing way too much and his muscles are way too sore and all he really wanted was just to come home to you, to the peacefulness he always loves.

is he really the asshole here?

a notification pops up on his phone an hour later. sae’s first train of thought is to wonder if it’s you. but it’s nothing important. it’s just oliver going over the next training’s details. the same old thing. but then sae looks up at the date and he curses inwardly.

it’s your second year anniversary. two years since you’d dated this fickle, troublesome guy.

sae’s head ducks between his palms, elbows resting on his thighs, as he considers the weight of his words.

this morning he woke up without even so much as a greeting for you; all he knew was he’d be late for practice if he didn’t leave in exactly five minutes. he’d rushed out the door and only responded to your morning greeting with a grunt. sae didn’t spare you any time for the rest of the day either, when you’d attempted to ask him out for dinner. he left you on read before ultimately tossing his phone to the side. when he came back home you’d given him a kiss and he barely reacted, too tired to give you anything even when you showed him the big dinner spread you’d cooked.

now he’s here—in an apartment at the other end of the city that’s no longer his while he left you alone in your shared apartment, leaving the argument unresolved and letting you stew in your own thoughts.

sae lets the time fly right by, staring at the ceiling while he contemplates everything. but the answer is plain and simple to him: you.

he’s tired and he’s hopelessly invested in soccer and he shouldn’t have time for anything else in his life but he wants you. he doesn’t know nearly half the right things to do in whatever situations, but the thought that he could really possibly lose you this time is enough to overwhelm him—sae grabs his car keys and leaves just as shidou and his girl leaves the room.

“oi, made up already?” he shouts after him through his front door.

sae rolls his eyes and ignores him; all he needed was some time to himself anyway. he’s glad shidou wasn’t there to poison his head with anything (or more like, he wasn’t there to convince him to drink his guts off).

ten minutes later he’s in his car and speeding back to the apartment, back to you. because no, it’s not too hard for him to assure you—it’s what he should have done. just because he’s used to being the center of dating rumours doesn’t mean you are. just because he knows it’s nothing doesn’t mean you don’t get insecure because of them.

after all, he remembers what he told you that night he asked you to be his. that he’ll make sure you’re happy. being happy all the time isn’t realistic, but at the very least, sae should’ve known better than to keep leaving you alone with your thoughts.

he speeds through the familiar city roads, however fast he’s going just doesn’t seem fast enough. but he still makes it safely back to your shared apartment within twenty minutes, and hopefully still fast enough to make sure you’re not completely disappointed in him.

it’s still raining and the living room lights are still on and he can faintly make out where you’re pacing the room through the blinds. sae feels like a creep staring at you from his car, but his heart’s pounding loudly in his ears and he can’t help but think he’s seen that sleek black car parked next to his somewhere before.

keys out the ignition, rain pattering lightly on his head, he gets out only to meet who he knows has been there for you since day one.

“done running already?” the hostility of your best friend irks him, but he can’t say he didn’t earn it. “that’s faster than i thought.”

“reo.”

your visitor rakes his hand through his purple hair, sighing and rolling his eyes. thanks to sae’s busy schedule, he hasn’t really had time to hang out with any of your friends, and probably hence their usual animosity towards him. though, well, nagi seems to be more indifferent than anything.

“if you’re here to break up with her, don’t worry, i’ll take care of her,” reo tells him, an air of indifference surrounding him. three guesses who you go to whenever you feel upset about your relationship.

sae clenches his fists, reminding himself that reo’s your best friend and punching him would do more harm than good. “i won’t,” is all sae says before he pushes past him, already done with whatever this conversation is.

reo scoffs, “for a guy who loves her, you do a shit job of showing it.”

and although sae shuts the lobby doors right after, reo’s words stay ingrained in his head. it’s not like sae doesn’t know it, but fuck if he knows what to do about it. but when he opens the front door and is greeted by the sight of your red puffy eyes, he forgets everything. forgets the frustration and the anger and the stupid excuses in his head—they’re all secondary when it comes to you anyway.

his feet take him straight to you, pulling you against his chest and holding you tight.

“i’m sorry,” he says, and that’s the easiest it’s ever come out.

from your lack of response, sae finds himself hoping for the best, hoping that he didn’t just lose you because of his stupid impulses. but then he feels your arms wrap around his waist and he hears himself breathing a sigh of relief.

“you’re an ass, you know that?” you sniffle, and it’s kind of hard to breathe when he’s pressing against you that much but you’re more relieved than anything that you don’t really care.

sae chuckles, weakly, the tension leaving his shoulders. “i know.” he can feel you pouting without even having to look at you.

“i should really leave you,” you whine, though your actions betray your words, holding him even tighter.

“then why do you put up with me?” it’s a funny thing, how he can be afraid to lose you yet he can tell that you’re not someone who gives up so easily.

that’s exactly why he has to prove that you didn’t choose the wrong person to be with.

“i guess i’m just stupid too.”

you’re not. sae’s going to make sure no one else thinks you’re stupid for staying with him. it’s enough having your best friend think that, but that’s fine, sae’ll prove him wrong soon enough. it sucks that he’s only good for soccer, but at the rate you’re going? you’ll teach him how to be a good boyfriend. he’s two years in and learning slowly but he’ll get there.

you’re the only one who can get him there.

“no,” sae says, all of a sudden, and you pull away, confused.

“no what?”

“what you asked earlier… it isn’t too hard. i’ll work on it.”

oh, must be right before he left, when you’d asked if it was hard for him to just assure you sometimes. to be honest, you didn’t think he’d even listened. but sae is sae and he’s stubborn and stupid and a little bit of an ass, but he still listens to everything you say.

you try not to break out into a smile—you don’t want to show him how whipped you really are. “i’ll hold you to your word, then.”

sae smiles, ruffling the top of your head before slowly pulling you in again. “so… don’t leave me, okay?”

it sinks in what he’s saying. you didn’t think you’d ever hear sae say those kinds of words. but it’s unfair, really, because how can you say no when he’s like this?

“you already know i won’t.”

and somehow, you’re right. sae knows you won’t. doesn’t mean he’ll get caught lacking though.

“good then.”

because he plans on keeping you forever.

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #bllk x you #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #bllk x y/n #bllk fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi fluff #blue lock x reader #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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sugarlywhispers · 4 months

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ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.

☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya), description of a fight. But it ends in fluff~ c;

☆–a.n; honestly, i don't know if i'm going to add another chapter... i still have a bit more of ideas for this, but i don't know ._.

in the meantime, i hope you liked this new part! <3

also, i hope ya'll have a wonderful beggining of 2024!!! may this new year bring lots of good thing for everyone, lots of love and adventures, new amazing things and wonderful people to your lives!

love ya'll so much, wish you all ALL the good things life can bring; no more tears, except happy ones. <3

A few weeks go by, and Midoriya and you keep in touch, texting almost everyday. Talking about random stuff, important stuff, whatever the mood is. But it's mostly cute, random stuff, getting to know each other kind of feeling. It's funny how you both have been around each other for so long and did not actually know one another.

The texting was cute. Like a picture he sends one afternoon, when his shift is calm and almost finished, when the sun is setting, taken from up high in a building. A beautiful sunset picture that you use as a lock screen wallpaper on your phone. Or that one selfie he sent when he shared patrols with Hero Shoto; you remember thinking how cute he looked posing next to the hot and cold Hero, with two fingers of one of his hands pulled up on a peace sign. Or a picture of a little puppy Hero Deku found on a rainy morning shift. He took it to the closest vet so they could help the little animal, and you find that so fucking heroic it makes your heart jump from the cuteness.

"I wonder… who has you smiling like that? Oh , I know… Mister Greeny," Mineta mocks, his eyebrows shaking up and down suggestively.

"Shut up," you bark and hit him on the upper arm strongly. He simply laughs.

Three months pass faster than you actually realize. You're better, you feel better. You haven't had a single panic attack since Midoriya Izuku entered your life. Which is good… it means good.

He is good.

Since that first Friday you grabbed coffee together, you both decided to make it your day. Each and every Friday morning, Izuku and you would go to grab coffee at that same shop you went to the first time; then he would walk you home as the gentleman he is.

It's Friday and you're waiting for him, it's a bit late already, but you know he is coming. He had a night patrol but he insisted to not break the new tradition - his words. You found it cute, so you didn't protest.

But now you're worried, because it's almost 30 minutes since you have been waiting and he hasn't come yet. Then it becomes 40, 45, 50 minutes. You feel your neck itchy, but you try to ignore it, looking at your phone. Waiting for a notification, waiting for Mid‐ Izuku to contact you. But nothing.

It's already been 1.10 hours long and no sign of him. You sigh and decide to go home, it's been more than an hour already. Probably he had something coming up at the last minute, or he simply forgot. He probably had a rough night and he didn't have time to meet you. You're not as important as his job, obviously.

You grab your things and exit the place, the kind girl behind the counter smiles sadly at you and waves her hand as goodbye. You smile, or at least try, in her direction and leave the coffee shop.

You feel itchy all over. This… This is… weird . Why are you feeling like this? You have no right to feel… disappointed, hurt . He's a Hero. He's freaking Number One, pro hero Deku. His job will always come first. But you can't help it. It's like…

You're not my priority, Y/N. Understand that you'll never be. I have to concentrate in my job if want to fucking be Number one.

You haven't heard his voice in your head for a long time now. And hearing it again is… painful. Hurting. Choking .

Every sound around you feels a hundred times louder as you walk, every light blinds you and you don't realize you're bumping into almost everyone around. The pressure on your neck is getting stronger and you can't breathe. You can't think. Your vision is turning black, like that night at the ramen shop with Mineta. A panic attack . You're having one in the middle of the street. How embarrassing . How pathetic .

You want the blackness to finally evolve you, and don't let go.

And then you see it, you feel it. Green eyes and strong hands grabbing your shoulders. You know those green eyes, you have seen them before. He's moving his mouth but you can't hear his voice. He looks worried; why is he worried? You feel rough hands that grab your face as softly as he can, and they are cold. You aren't used to the cold, but you like it. It's refreshing.

"...hear me? Y/N, please breathe, okay? Breathe with me," his voice is comforting, so you follow him, you breathe with him. "That's it… You're okay. We are okay."

The sight around you starts to clear, the blackness dissipates and you see clearly. His face is the first thing your eyes find. You know him. "Izuku?"

" Yes! Yes, it's me… Hi, love," he smiles relieved. You look around realizing you're in the middle of a circle, with him. People are watching, some worried, some annoyed. Embarrassing .

You realize then that Izuku's hands are around your face, holding you with no intention of letting go. "Izuku…"

He blinks, realizing then probably your surroundings and nods. "Yes, come one, let's go…"

Izuku helps you stand, his arm surrounding your waist pulling your weight on him so he helps you walk. Everyone starts clapping, clearly recognizing hero Deku even in his civilian clothes.

He walks you to your apartment in silence. Until you walk into the building, "There's no elevator?"

"No, it's been broken since before I got here," you know your voice sounds throaty, and the expression on his face says it worries him.

He sighs looking at the long stairs ahead. He knows you live on the fourth floor. "Okay, then," he says before picking you up, bridal style.

"Izuku! I can walk!"

"No, you can't. You have been putting your weight on me the whole way here."

"Still, I…"

"Shut up. Let me help," his tone it's so authoritative you have no other option than to do that. Shut up and let him help, because you know you wouldn't be able to climb those stairs up on your own even if you tried.

On the way up, you can't avoid watching him. He looks… angry . You have never seen him like that, or better said, you have never experienced his anger, you have seen him angry on the TV, fighting villains.

"I'm sorry," you say, and he stops midway, his eyes traveling to your face.

"You're apologizing for having a panic attack?" He's frowning, his tone incredulous, but serious. It makes tingles run your body.

"I'm… Yes, it's embarrassing ," you feel your voice crack a bit, and you hate that.

"Y/N, it's not embarrassing. It's a trauma response. And it's okay to go through it. But you need to heal…"

You look away from his face, tears already burning your eyes. You can't help but hear his voice again.

Having panic attacks in public is embarrassing, Y/N. You have to control them. Don't be fucking weak.

" He said… he said they were embarrassing."

You know you shouldn't be saying this to Izuku, but you said it even before you could actually think it.

" Who said-…" Izuku stops mid sentence. Takes a deep, deep breath, and continues climbing the stairs in silence. You don't dare look up. He's so tense and angry, you don't really have the courage to witness that right now.

When you arrive at the fourth floor you signal him which one is your apartment. And even when you are in front of the door, he doesn't put you on the ground. He stands there, waiting patiently, as you search for the key card on your bag and when the door is open he enters with you in his arms. He of course takes his shoes off at the entrance and walks inside.

He doesn't say anything as he sits you over the small couch and sits next to you, his arm touching yours and taking almost all the space around you. His smell is around and you like it.

His face is even closer to yours when he asks, worried, "When were you going to tell me you have panic attacks?"

"I… I don't want to bother anyone with them." You tell the truth. You can't lie to him.

"That's what he told you? That they are a bother?" You simply shrug, not really wanting to answer. "Y/N, I'm not angry or feel like this is a bother. I'm worried, you need help."

"I am going to therapy. I've been going since I'm five, Izuku. I had a handle on them, they weren't recurrent until…"

"Until he left you," he finishes for you, slightly shaking his head and you nod.

Izuku sighs, standing up and you watch him. Is he going away? Is he embarrassed and going away, deciding not to involve or do anything with your broken self?

"Do you mind if I make us both tea?"

You shake your head rapidly in answer. He smiles and walks towards the kitchen. You follow his every move, being a small apartment it's easy to do it.

Izuku is… staying . For tea. He's not leaving. He's not leaving you alone after a panic attack. Like Mineta. But he's your best friend, Mineta has always been there; like you have been there for him even after the war he had to be part of at such a young age and he tried to push you away. Izuku doesn't have that obligation. Izuku… is your friend? Well, that's how you like to think of him since you got to know him this past months. But the category of best friend was not there for him yet. You were just getting to know each other. So, why is he here? Why does he stay?

"It's ready," he suddenly says, sitting back next to you with the two mugs of tea. He gives you one and you accept it a bit startled.

The sudden smell of lemon with honey tea that invades your nose as you bring it closer to drink immediately relaxes you. You smile after taking a sip.

You look back at him and he's watching intently at you, like he's waiting for your reaction.

"You remembered," you say and you really want to cry now.

He smiles, a hand flying to the back of his head to scratch it nervously, "You said it was your favorite."

You did. On a text message, when the topic was favorite drinks . But the fact that he remembered that you said it, it is… overwhelming.

Silence again. On your part it's more relaxed, but you can feel him a bit anxious. You decide to give him space, time to say whatever it is that it's inside his mind.

Until he does.

"You're not the only one… struggling still… with all that happened." He says as he sets his mug on the little coffee table in front of you. It's very small, mostly for decoration. Only space for the two mugs you're using at the moment. Izuku then lays his elbows over his knees, fingers fidgeting in the middle clearly showing his nervousness. "I have nightmares. Very bad ones, since the war. Uraraka used to help a lot, she was always there for me when I needed her."

This is the first time he talks about her this willingly, so you just keep silent and give him the space he needs to say whatever he wants.

"I was finally getting better… and then… she wasn't there anymore…"

"The nightmares came back?" He simply nods. You can't help yourself but to direct your hand towards his shoulder in a form of comfort, which he accepts with a small smile.

"I guess… we are two broken people, trying to pick up the pieces left. Aren't we?"

His eyes shine with tears he refuses to set free, probably also what your own looked like. He smiles sadly at you, before patting your hand that still holds his shoulder.

You both stay in silence for a little while before Izuku breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry about today. I had…" He sighs. "I had a discussion with a partner."

Partner? You know Izuku doesn't have many partners. One is Hero Shoto, who also is his best friend. You doubt he had a discussion with him, you couldn't actually see Shoto in a heated discussion at all. And the other one is… Oh .

"What did he do now?" You don't even have to mention his name. You and Izuku know who you're talking about.

The green-haired man rolls his eyes. "We have been civil. For the sake of everybody around us. And if I'm being honest, we work well together. In fights, we understand each other perfectly. So we decided to just be professional and not bring up anything that happened."

You know this. Izuku had already told you this once, when he called you on his lunch break to talk to you about a cute little butterfly that he would send you the picture of when he was less busy and you heard Bakugou's voice on the back calling for Izuku. They had been on a mission together.

"Until…" Izuku continues, "Until this morning, when he decided to bring up our Friday morning's coffee."

" What?! " You frown. How did he know? Nobody knew, besides Mineta and probably Shoto on Izuku's side. Nobody else knew… unless…

"Paparazzis discovered us. I don't know how. I'm always careful when meeting you. I take a lot of turns and I disguise myself the best I can so they don't recognize me. But they found out." He sighs, a hand sliding his green and black curls back. "They released an article yesterday. About us."

Izuku takes out his phone, searching for something before showing it to you.

NEWLY BACHELOR, NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU, FOUNDS NEW SWEETHEART?

Yes, my readers, this is apparently what it looks like. A young, pretty lady like this caught the attention of the Symbol of Hope quite fast, if you ask for my humble opinion.

We don't have much information about her, sadly. Only that this lady has our favorite Pro Hero on her clutches... Look at the way he looks at her in the following pictures!

Isn't it cute? Let me be honest, as a fan of Deku myself, I can't avoid feeling a bit heartbroken, but I also think that this man deserves all the happiness anyone can give him. Don't you agree? And after that sudden break up with Pro Hero Uravity that caught everyone by surprise, makes me think… Does this lady have anything to do with it? Did she catch Pro Hero Deku's heart from before, causing the break up? Mmm, so many questions, readers, that we don't have the answers yet! But no mind, we will try our best to find them! Be patient, and in the meantime, show a bit of support for our favorite Number One Hero.

You feel like vomiting. Your picture, clear as day, has never been on the front page of a magazine. Bakugou has always protected his privacy so meticulously, and that included you. The media and his fans knew he had a relationship, but he never let anyone get a glimpse of it.

And here you are now, on the front page of Go-zzip Hero magazine, the picture showing you sitting in front of Izuku in that coffee shop, talking so close to his face it practically looks like you're kissing. Oh, shit . You do that? You actually speak that close to him??

You swallow thickly, looking back up at Izuku.

"I am so sorry, Izuku, I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't know. None of us did. But I'm sorry I wasn't more careful…"

"Don't be silly. This is not your fault."

"Yours either."

You both smile shyly at each other. This is… chaotic. Being involved with him is… OH, SHIT.

"What? What is it?" He asks as he sees your eyes open wide in fear.

"Your fans are gonna kill me..."

"No, they aren't…"

"Yes, they are! Oh my God!" You stand, after putting your mug over the table next to his, a bit wobbly on the legs which makes him react fast to hold you if you fall, but you don't. You start walking one way to the other of your small living room. "I'm so food for the fishes… they are going to kill me!"

Izuku chuckles. "No, they aren't, Y/N…"

"Don't laugh! Yes, they are! Especially after what that journalist said! They even hinted that probably I was the reason you broke up with Uraraka!"

"Which is not true. I'll call my manager and PR team and ask for an interview with the magazine and clarify this. You don't have anything to worry about. Neither does Mineta. I'll clarify that we are just friends…"

That makes you freeze in place, frowning. "Mineta? What does he have to do with this?"

Izuku frowns too, looking confused at you. "Aren't you… Isn't he… Aren't you dating ?"

"WHAT?!" By Izuku's flinching, you realize you raised your tone a bit louder than you intended. "Sorry…Mineta is my best friend, Izuku. He's like a brother to me."

Izuku looks so confused, "But… But you always speak about him. He cooks for you, he is… he is here almost everyday for you, and he did all that stuff to piss off Bakugou for you, like a…"

"Like a brother would." You smile. "I do think that somehow our souls are connected, because I know I could leave apart from anyone, except him . He's that annoying sticky thing you get used to living with and don't want to unstick, because if you do something will miss. Because he's my brother. I wouldn't be able to live without his annoying ass." Izuku laughs with you. You walk back to sitting next to him as silence comes back. Then, you keep talking, "Mineta has been there when I had no one. Even when we were five years old and my parents died in a car accident, provoked by a hero-villain fight." Deku tenses, but keeps his attention on you. "We used to play heroes when we were kids and fantasize about how we were going to be Number One. Both of us, together. And then the accident happened. I was left alone. I didn't have much family around, only my old great-grandma that was barely suitable to raise a child. So I was given to the state. I went to an orphanage."

You don't know why you're baring your soul to Izuku like this. This was a painful, very intimate part of your history nobody knew but Mineta. Not even Bakugou knew. He never insisted for you to tell him. He simply accepted that you were Mineta's best friend, end of sentence. He never questioned anything. Now you wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.

"That's when your panic attacks began?" He asks a bit timidly. You nod.

"It happened that same day, when I was given the news about their deaths. A kind lady had been there with me, explaining what it all meant. She was kind, but she didn't have much experience. Imagine walking into a room as a kid where your parents are lying dead in two stretchers and being told these are your parents and you're not gonna see them anymore ." Izuku flinches again, a chill clearly running down his back. "A few hours later, I had my first panic attack. I lost consciousness for almost an hour. It was the longest one I ever had and doctors were worried not enough oxygen had gone to my brain, considering that even when I woke up I wasn't talking to anyone."

"Until Mineta and Auntie Asiki came to see me at the hospital. The second Mineta lay down next to me in the hospital bed, I started crying, and he held me. We were kids, not knowing anything about life, and he still understood that I needed him. Auntie Asiki offered to bring me home with her and Mineta, but the forms to the orphanage had already been filled and accepted. It would take a lot of money, lawyers and procedures to let her, a single mother, take my custody. And while her heart and intentions were hugely appreciated for even thinking about it, it was impossible."

"I didn't know Mineta's mom was a single mother." Izuku frowns, probably guilting himself about it, because of everything they, as class A, had been through their years at UA.

"He doesn't like speaking about it. He really has to trust you to tell you about it."

Izuku nods, instantly respecting that decision. He then scratches his neck again.

"So, you and him are not…"

You chuckle. "Not even if he was the last man on Earth." Izuku laughs too.

" Ouch , that wounds me so deep, bun," Mineta's voice is heard from the entrance as he walks inside your apartment.

Shit , you haven't heard him at all. The worry on your face is visible, because you have been talking about him, about his private life, and you hadn't consulted him before. You feel so bad, so worried he'll get mad at you.

Mineta sees you and simply shrugs, "It's okay, bun, I trust Midoriya." He then winks at you and you feel the worry disappear completely.

"Thank you, Mineta. I promise I won't speak about it to anyone."

"It's okay," Mineta answers Izuku, pulling his thumb up in his direction. You smile watching their interaction. "I'm not here though to have this conversation." Your best friend gets closer to where you are, a worried expression on his face. "I was told you had another one, in the middle of the street.." You sigh, looking down at your hands that lay in your lap. "Was it because of him again?"

You nod and Mineta is the one who sighs this time.

"About Bakugou?" Izuku asks then, frowning.

You nod again. "My therapist is helping, but yes, they appear after I remember something, random things he once had said to me."

"Why it doesn't fucking surprise me…" Izuku barks as he stands from the couch and walks, just like you had moments ago. Mineta opens his eyes wide, watching amused at Izuku's reaction.

"He's such a fucking jerk… But we already knew that, didn't we?"

Izuku immediately agrees with Mineta.

"I should have punched him harder," Izuku's comment makes you choke on the tea you were about to swallow.

"You what?!" Both you and Mineta speak at the same time. You look worried about the whole situation, the discussion clearly hadn't been a simple one if there had been fists involved. Mineta looks like a kid given the awaited present on his birthday.

"What really happened, Izuku?" You ask, worry clear on your tone.

"He saw the article, clearly. I came back from night patrol and was changing in the locker rooms, the whole night shift was there preparing to go home at the same time the morning shift was getting ready to start their patrols. And he started making comments about you and me, about how I apparently like his leftovers, about how you are a gold digger and now went for me."

"He did not fucking say that!" Mineta stands up, ready to beat some ass, Bakugou's, specifically.

"He did! I couldn't not do anything. I tried to be civil and only told him to stop talking about us, that he didn't know anything. And I told him to stop playing the victim, because he was none. The only victims in this story are you and me," Izuku looks at you like he's assuring you, "They don't have the right to even comment on this."

"Hell yeah, Midoriya!" Mineta cheers, raising his hand for Izuku to high five him, and the green-haired does, animated. You shake your head trying to hold your smile back. "What did corn-head say then?"

Izuku laughs at Mineta's nickname for Bakugou, bumping his fist again with the man in agreement.

You roll your eyes. Jesus , men are such idiots with nicknames.

"He then said that… I don't know if I should repeat it…" Izuku and Mineta both look at you, Mineta already intuitively knows.

"He talked… he talked about our sex life, didn't he?" You ask after a minute of silence.

Izuku nods.

"Tell me you did punch him hard though…" Mineta is fuming, you can see the smoke coming out his ears, metaphorically.

"Of course I did. Twice, before someone pushed me away."

"Well done, man." Mineta high fives Izuku again.

"You shouldn't… you didn't have to…"

"I won't let him or anybody speak about you that way, Y/N. Now that I know all you've been through, I won't even give them a chance to."

You move before you think, again. One second you're seated on the couch, and the next you're hugging Izuku. Arms around his neck strongly, as your face hides in your arm and his shoulder. It takes him a second, but he reacts by hugging back, strong arms surrounding your waist as delicately as he can, but also firm and securely.

You heard Mineta walk out of the living room towards the kitchen to entertain himself with anything.

And you feel… safe . You feel so safe in Izuku's arms, it's so comforting and nice.

You feel him take a deep breath over your head, as if your smell was comforting to him. You like that idea. That at least in something so insignificant like your smell, he finds comfort and peace. Relax and ease.

"Thank you, Izuku," you whisper only for him to listen.

He shakes his head, "You have nothing to thank me for."

"I do, though. Not only for those punches," you say backing away just a bit so you can see his face. He smiles proudly at the mention of the punches. "But because you helped me with my panic attacks… Twice."

"Twice?" He asks confusedly, but you nod.

"The first Friday we went to have a coffee, remember?" He nods, "I was waiting, and because it was my first time out of my apartment without Mineta I was feeling overwhelmed and… and then you appeared at the door. And all I felt was relief… I felt safe with you there, so it stopped even before it began."

You are looking at his eyes, and you can see the emotion in them as you speak. He then rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath, clearly pushing his emotion back in so he can speak.

"I'll be there for you… I want to be there for you, if you want me…"

"I want you," you immediately answer, "I want you to be here."

"Then I will."

"I also want to be there for you," you scratch the back of his head softly, as he bites his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He looks like he's trying to control himself from doing something then and there, and that makes you smile.

"I want you . I want you to be there too." He repeats your exact same words, making you feel tingles all over your body as you feel his fingertips caress lightly, timidly, the bit of skin showing at your waist.

"Then I will."

You feel him moving, his nose caressing yours in a cute manner. Slowly getting closer, lips barely touching and…

"Sorry to be a cockblock, but your phone is ringing, Midoriya."

The bubble is popped , so you both back away, clearing your throats and fixing your clothes out of nervousness.

"Oh, yeah, ummm…" Izuku walks back towards the kitchen to search for his phone. "It's Shoto. He's probably heard already about the fight this morning. I should pick this." You nod, signaling to your room for his privacy and he thanks you as he walks there.

Your eyes follow him until the door is closed, and then they go towards the kitchen, where Mineta is standing, hip against the counter and a bowl of snacks in his hands he found somewhere, eating them slowly as he looks at you accusatory. A knowing smirk in his face.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything… yet."

You roll your eyes. "Spit it out." You walk towards him, picking some of the snacks on the bowl and eating.

"I have nothing to say, Y/N."

That's impossible, he always has something to say.

"Or should I call you Ms. Midoriya from now on?"

Ah, there it is.

You punch him in the arm and he laughs out loud.

PART I - PART II - PART III

379 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 14 days

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Running an errand together brings out even more sides of Eddie Munson, including one that you wish you'd never seen (5.2k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter six: the eye of the tiger

Guilt fit like the shoes your mom forced you to wear as a kid, the dressy ones reserved for special occasions. It pinched at you, dug into you, a constant reminder of its unwelcome presence.

And so you did everything you could to alleviate the discomfort. On Wednesday, Dad mosied into the lobby for his shift to find the floor meticulously swept; there was not a speck of dust in sight. If he had any suspicions, he didn’t bother to show them. He was probably just grateful for the help regardless of its cause.

Mom, as usual, was more skeptical of your intentions, raising a disbelieving brow when you presented her with the bills you’d reorganized by their due dates. You’d offered up the excuse of being bored with nothing better to do. Did she buy it? Unlikely. But she also didn’t pose further questions, choreographing another step in your dance.

And when Dad hung up the phone Friday afternoon, thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of his nose, you jumped at the chance to fix the situation.

“Everything okay?”

He looked up with a start, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize you’d been standing in the doorway.

“That was Uncle Mo,” he said with an elongated sigh. “The delivery truck won’t start; something’s busted, I guess, so we won’t get our wallpaper until it’s out of the shop.”

“I can go after class,” you volunteered. The shop was a twenty minute bus ride from school, no transfers required. Lugging it on the subway back home might prove more challenging, but you could manage it.

He dashed your dreams with a swift shake of his head. “They close early for the Sabbath.” Which meant they’d be closed all day tomorrow, too.

Dad glanced around at the walls, lip scraping over his bottom lip. Their barrenness unsettled him; his pride and joy left empty and exposed.

Imagine how he’ll feel once this place is boarded up for good. Bet he won’t care about some ugly walls then.

“I’ll go on Sunday.” The promise practically made itself before you could stop it. Your final paper was due on Tuesday, and you had planned to spend your weekend finishing it, but that would need to take a backseat until the wallpaper crisis was resolved.

You could be part of that solution. For now, at least.

Sunlight teased summer’s beginning and warmed your skin. The walk to the subway station required you to cross paths with the mailbox you’d fought with—and humbly lost to—a few days prior. Dejection shot through your chest as you paused in front of it, focusing on a spot of rusted metal where the paint had flaked off. Short of intercepting the United States Postal Service, there was nothing you could do. Besides, your acceptance was probably already locked inside NYU’s admissions office, sitting among a pile of identical envelopes. Most of them, you suspected, were mailed with exuberance and not with the trepidation you carried.

The station’s stuffiness engulfed you as you descended the stairs, fingertips brushing the railing to ensure your balance. Your return trip would be short of torture, sweat prickling beneath your arms at the mere thought of dragging wallpaper through the thick humidity. You might have to splurge for a cab to avoid melting completely.

Frantic, impassioned guitar strumming grabbed your attention just before you approached the turnstile, echoing off of the concrete and infiltrating all of your senses. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw that Eddie was the source of the noise. He leaned against the wall as he played an electric guitar—the same one he had clutched so dearly when sleeping at the bus stop. There was no microphone, no amplifier; just him and his instrument. The case was open in front of him, now holding a few scattered dollar bills and some loose change.

He didn’t notice you, not at first, so you took that opportunity to silently watch him. His head nodded along with the beat, his voice a low timbre as he sang.

Trust I seek and I find in you

Every day for us something new

Open mind for a different view

And nothing else matters

The chords were nearly drowned out by his vocals, and the softer strumming should have clashed with the harsh lyrics, but he made it work.

It was somehow even sadder than when Metallica played it, though not from a lack of power. Eddie’s version intertwined anger with desperation, a somber reprise of the gritty original.

Deft fingers pressed into the frets, the pick pinched between the other hand’s thumb and forefinger. He took a step forward to launch himself into the chorus with a combination of focus and ease. This is what he was meant to do, what he was born to do. Whether he was in front of a captivated audience of thousands or a smattering of indifferent commuters, he was a rockstar.

Never cared for what they say

Never cared for games they play

Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

And I know, yeah, yeah

Heat blossomed in your belly at his gravelly voice, the way he pulled the notes from the depths of his diaphragm and belted them out. The E train came and went as it screeched along the tracks, but you remained as though the soles of your feet were glued to the ground.

So close, no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

No, nothing else matters

For a brief moment after finishing the song, Eddie’s chest puffed out with pride. It quickly faltered in the absence of applause, but before he could play another song, his gaze landed on you. He grinned and shook a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Part of you wanted to fix it for him, to tuck it behind his ear or sweep it all back into a ponytail, but you refrained. Instead, you dug into your purse and tossed a dollar into the case.

“Was that the one I gave you for the cab?” Eddie asked, fingers absently brushing over the strings in a series of random chords.

“Nah, this was from the other asshole guest who made me late for class.”

Your jibe caught him off-guard and he actually laughed with such force that he had to stop playing. “And here I thought I was the only one.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as it snagged on a knot. “Are you going to the library or something?”

You lacked the energy to explain that the library was in the opposite direction, opting instead to cut to the chase. “Picking up the wallpaper.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he cocked his head. “I thought it was being delivered.” As you relayed the whole broken-truck saga, he started sliding the guitar strap up off of his back and crouched down, stuffing the money from the case into his pockets. “Cool. I’ll go with.”

“Oh, I wasn’t–” You paused mid-sentence to consider your words. “I mean, you don’t have to. I can do it on my own.”

“S’fine.” Eddie laid the guitar down with the fragility that one would handle a newborn baby and snapped the case shut. “Didn’t realize this station is basically dead on Sundays. I normally just play here during the week, but I’ve been out of commission.” He held up his bandaged finger and pouted impishly.

The familiar playfulness settled back into the conversation, breaking up any lingering awkwardness, and you snatched up the opportunity to tease him. “Ah, right. Your man stuff.”

“Very manly. Burly, some might say.” He extended one hand in front of him, palm up, to gesture towards the turnstiles. “Shall we?”

You led and he followed behind so closely that his chest smacked into your back when you stopped in your tracks. The uneven weight distribution, courtesy of the guitar case lolling at his side, thrusted him forward, the metal buckle on his belt digging into your skin through your shirt.

It set off a domino effect, one that had you falling face-first to the ground. Before you could even brace for impact, you felt Eddie’s fingers digging into your hip and tugging you upright. The way he caught you was almost reflexive, his grasp controlled enough to avoid bruising your skin, but strong enough that you realized he could if he wanted to.

“What happened?” His tone was mixed with both concern and amusement; a crackle of laughter broke up his question.

An embarrassing adrenaline surge shot through you, bringing with it a chill that immediately preceded a heatwave of perspiration. “The, um…” You lamely pointed at the card swipe machines that had replaced the token receptacles. “I forgot that we need those MetroCard things.”

Eddie let go of your hip and you felt his absence almost immediately. “No, we don’t.” He left no time for questioning, hoisting the case to the other side and pushing himself up and over the bar, landing on his feet with cat-like dexterity.

You stared at him in disbelief. Sure, you’d jumped the turnstile a time or two, but that was back in high school, under the influence of friends you hadn’t talked to since.

“What’re you waiting for?” He called out. A Cheshire-cat grin graced his lips.

What were you waiting for? It’s not like the transit police were scouring the station. The poor schmuck stuck at the now-defunct token booth was exasperatedly trying to explain the new system to an older gentleman; he probably wouldn’t have noticed a wildebeest stampede. And you certainly weren’t eager to contribute to the politicians who lined their pockets with taxpayer money.

Fuck it.

In one swift motion—much more graceful than your earlier stumble—you mimicked his actions. One foot, then the other, your biceps supporting your body weight.

“You little rebel.” Eddie tutted, his smirk showing off his teeth. You never noticed the way one canine is slightly sharper than the other, and it digs into his lower lip. “This is how it starts, y’know. One day, you’re skipping out on train fare; the next, you’re committing armed robbery.”

If he kept rubbing your nerves raw, you might be more tempted to commit homicide.

Another E train arrived not long after. You were an expert at scouting empty seats, and you made a beeline for the first one you found. There was another one across the way, just vacated by a woman pushing a stroller, and you assumed Eddie would take it.

Instead, he shoved his guitar case towards you, parting your legs between the knees, and grabbed onto one of the overhead handles.

“Can you hold this?” Eddie asked belatedly. He rocked forward onto his toes as the train moved to keep his balance. A guitar pick necklace swung out from beneath the vee of his shirt and swayed above you.

You drank in the way he towered over you, so close that he was all you could see. The mingled scents of the motel’s soap and a musky deodorant wafted off of him and enveloped your senses. For a second, there was only him, and whatever the outside world had to offer was just shy of meaningless.

“There’s a seat down there.” You peered around him and gestured to the one you’d spotted earlier, careful not to point at anyone.

Eddie looked but declined with a shrug. “Nah, I’m good. I like standing.”

“See, that’s the kind of thing that separates the natives from the transplants.” You smiled up at him. “You didn’t even want to sit down after a gig? Or a long rehearsal?”

“I didn’t really ever take the subway,” he admitted. “Maybe, like, once or twice.”

You huffed out an incredulous laugh. “How did you get around?”

“Taxis, car service.” He ticked off the items on his free hand. “One time we rented a helicopter, but then the label threatened to revoke the company card.” He chuckled forlornly, like the memory was heavier than an impromptu helicopter ride.

“Sounds like you were living the life.”

Eddie shook off his wistfulness with a cheeky grin. “Hell yeah. Expensive restaurants, swanky hotels…did I ever tell you about the time we trashed our room?”

“You did not.” You’re not sure you want to know, considering he’s currently staying in one of yours.

He laughed. “Get this: we come back to the hotel after a gig. We’re all fuckin’ exhausted. As soon as we walk into the lobby, the night manager is on us like a hawk. I mean, the guy gave a stink eye like you wouldn’t believe.” He tried mimicking him, but he was too upbeat to embody the manager’s full ire. “Anyway, we’re not in the room for five minutes when there’s a knock on the door. Of course it’s that schmuck, warning us about the noise policy.”

You looked at him incredulously. “That’s why you destroyed a hotel room?”

“Mhm.” Eddie proudly nodded, not missing the way concern furrowed your brow. “Don’t worry, Heiress. I’d never trash your place.”

“I’d have to get Phyllis after you.” Laughter bubbled out of you at his visible cringe, probably thinking of being on the other end of her baseball bat. “Okay, so what’s the dumbest thing you guys bought with the company card?”

People pushed through the aisle as the train pulled up to the stop, elbows nudging Eddie until he was practically on top of you. Every hair on your body stood up at the sudden change in proximity. “Probably one of those stuffed tiger things for our apartment,” he admitted.

“You and your band bought a taxidermied tiger?” You scoffed.

His face flushed, and he scratched at his jaw like he’d been caught red-handed. “N-No, not the whole band. Just me and the drummer. We, um, she was my girlfriend, I guess.”

Puzzle pieces started falling into place and interlocking curves. His ex-girlfriend was also in the band, which was probably why they broke up once Eddie quit. “How long were you two together?” You instantly regret not asking about the tiger instead, for his sake and yours.

“Hard to say; we were pretty on-and-off.” Eddie tried to play it off casually but terse laughter gave him away. The subway lurched and Eddie swayed forward again, his knee grazing yours. “But it was about a year from start to finish.”

You let the information sink in. He had a girlfriend in Death’s Echo, but he seemed to be unattached at the moment. Made sense, considering he was living in your motel rather than with a partner.

“That’s what no one tells you about money: it runs out.” Eddie continued. “It’s like, common sense or whatever. But when you have no money and then you get a shit-ton of it, it’s hard to imagine ever going back.”

His eyes found yours like he had been searching for them, and you held his gaze until a monotone voice crackled over the speaker, announcing that the train was approaching the Forest Hills-71st Avenue station.

“We have to transfer here.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled by this extra step, but he followed your lead without any audible protest.

“Y’know,” he said as the doors opened, the two of you joining the swarm of people pushing their way out, “my neighborhood back home was also called Forest Hills.”

“Seems fancy,” you quipped.

He laughed, head thrown back. “Oh, yeah. It’s the most glamorous trailer park in all of Indiana.”

The faux pas curdled in your stomach. What were you thinking? He had just confessed that he was broke before Death’s Echo.

“Sorry, that was stupid.”

He shrugged off your comment, seemingly unbothered. “How many stops is this next one?”

“Just two.”

He hummed his acknowledgment, and with the R train less crowded than the E, you found seats adjacent to one another.

You did your best to ignore the way his right leg brushed your left, the worn denim against your bare skin as the train jostled him. He murmured a barely-audible “sorry.”

There was no reason for him to apologize, and you almost told him this, but you substituted a tight smile for words. Truthfully, you were glad he confirmed that the touch was accidental. You’d nearly nudged him back, a secret handshake of sorts, and your body burned with the mere prospect of embarrassment.

The train screeched to a stop in front of a sign that barely read 63rd Drive-Rego Park, most of the letters covered in colorful graffiti tags.

“This is us,” you said, handing him back his guitar so you could stand up.

Eddie stepped aside with a small bow, equal parts awkward and endearing. “So, uh, where are we going, exactly?” He stayed close enough so you could hear him over the cacophony of commuters.

“S’just a few blocks.” You maintained your fast-paced stride so as to not get bowled over.

He kept up with you surprisingly well for someone unused to navigating the city’s public transit. The fresh air welcomed you as you ascended the stairs, leaving behind the station’s mugginess. Conversations and traffic replaced metallic clunking while you weaved in and out of a sea of pedestrians, checking every so often to ensure you hadn’t left Eddie behind.

Bold white letters on a maroon awning proudly proclaimed Eisen’s Paint and Supply, and the faint sound of bell chimed when you opened the door. A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, eyes lighting up when you walked in.

“Uncle Mo!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Uncle Mo wasn’t your father’s brother, but their bond went beyond blood relation. He was part of nearly all of Dad’s stories since they’d met in high school: the good, the bad, and the ugly.

There was more gray in his hair and in his beard than the last time you’d seen him, the lines from his lips to his jaw more pronounced, but he still wore the same cologne that you’d remembered. The familiar scent was like home, a reminder of all of the Thanksgivings your families had spent together before the motel engulfed your life.

He beamed, his hands bracing your upper arms as he got a better look at you. “Look at you; so grown up!” His eyes misted over for a second before he blinked the moisture away. “How long has it been?”

“Too long.” You turned back to Eddie, waving him over and introducing him. Uncle Mo politely extended a hand that Eddie shook quickly before shoving his fingers back in his pocket.

“Before I get your paper,” Uncle Mo said to you with a mischievous smile, “I have a bit of a surprise.” The stockroom door swung open on cue and a young man stepped out from behind it.

Your hand flew to your mouth in shock, every bone in your body vibrating. “Ben?” The name was muffled but still audible, and Ben opened his arms just in time for you to tackle him in an embrace.

His gangly teenage limbs had been replaced with hard muscle, his chest straining through his t-shirt. There was no trace of the wispy excuse for a mustache he’d once proudly sported; his face was freshly shaven, only the slightest evidence of his stubble scratched against your cheek when he pulled you to him.

“I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me you were stopping by,” Ben said, finally letting go after a few moments. He looked at Eddie as if noticing him for the first time. “Ben. Nice to meet you.”

Eddie said nothing in response, his jaw set and his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever friendliness he’d shown Uncle Mo was clearly not being granted to his son.

“Ben, this is Eddie,” you hurried to explain before the tension became unbearably dense. “He works for the motel, doing different repairs and odd jobs. Whatever we need, really.”

Your old friend nodded and brought his attention back to you. “Do you guys need help bringing the wallpaper back? I don’t have anything to–”

“We’ve got it.” Eddie cut him off curtly, clipping the conversation’s wings. His eyes narrowed in judgmental assessment and their milk chocolate hue turned dark.

Ben had evidently stepped on his toes; you thought back to the wasp’s nest and his adamance to clobber it with a baseball bat despite your insistence to wait until you bought the spray. You shot Eddie a look that he either disregarded or didn’t notice, because his clenched jaw never loosened.

“Right, yeah.” A blush crept into Ben’s cheeks, the other man’s brusqueness catching him off-guard. “But we should catch up soon,” he said to you, “maybe grab a cup of coffee?”

It was an effort to ignore the way Eddie tensed up; even more so to pretend like his reaction hadn’t stirred something inside of you. Everything between you and him, and you and Ben, was strictly platonic. Whatever melodrama he’d conjured up was his problem, not yours.

Your relationship with Eddie teetered between acquaintances and friends; he was in no position to get bent out of shape over you going for coffee with Ben or any other man.

You pushed the intrusive thought away long enough to answer Ben’s question. “Yeah, of course! You’re home for the whole summer?”

“Actually…” Ben’s grin widened, harboring a secret he was eager to spill. “I’m back for good. You’re looking at Dr. Benjamin Eisen, D.D.S.”

“That’s amazing!”

He nodded happily, enthusiasm unrestrained. “Thanks. I’m hoping to open up a practice nearby, so I’ll be sticking around for a while.”

That was the best news you’d heard in a while. The pair of you were once inseparable, always devising plans to convince your parents to extend their visits. When you were six, you’d almost started a fire trying to put on a pot of coffee, hoping that it would coax the Eisens into staying longer.

Too bad you’d forgotten to add the water.

Uncle Mo returned from the stock room with rolls of wallpaper, and his son shuffled towards him to take one from his grasp.

“Are you sure I can’t help out?” Ben tried again. He only looked at you when he spoke.

You almost took him up on his offer, the reply sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie answered for you.

“We’re good,” he said flatly, taking the rolls from the other men. “I used to lug around amps all the time. This is nothing.”

He’d uttered the same phrase before taking a bat to a wasp’s nest, and he’d ended up hurt. Still, inviting Ben along would almost certainly guarantee an awkward commute home. At best, you’d force stilted small talk; at worst, Eddie might shove Ben onto the tracks.

“Thanks anyway,” you said politely, trying to temper your irritation.

Ben gave a tight smile, brows shooting up when remembered something. “Let me give you my new phone number so we can set up a time to meet up.” He plucked a business card from the little plastic container on the desk, flipping it over and scrawling his number on the back.

“Sounds great.” It truly did, save for Eddie’s glare that made you grateful looks couldn’t actually kill.

Tucking the card into your purse, you held him in one last hug before bidding them goodbye.

Eddie said nothing the entire walk back to the subway station. He strode there despite heaving around a guitar case and cylinders of wallpaper. You suspected he could have flown there if he wasn’t so bogged down. The closest he came to acknowledging your presence was the scoff he let out when you veered off-course to buy a MetroCard.

You ignored him, still fuming over his behavior towards Ben. With trembling fingers, you dropped your change into the coin slot, acutely aware of his presence as he stood beside you. He was close enough that you could hear his tense sigh, as though his frustration was justified.

Yanking the card out from behind the swinging Plexiglass, you silently stalked over to the turnstile, Eddie begrudgingly hot on your heels. The tiny diagram showed the magnetic strip facing downwards and you did your best to emulate it. After two failed swipes, the machine relented and gave an approving beep.

“Go,” you told Eddie, and when he stared at you blankly, you repeated yourself with considerably less patience. “Go.”

“Okay, okay.” There was no hiding his surprise at your insistence, the sharpness of your tongue. He obviously wasn't accustomed to taking the attitude he dished out. His eyebrows crashed into his hairline as he maneuvered through, wallpaper bumping up against the metal gates.

There wasn’t enough money left on the card for you, so after a brief glance at your surroundings, you once again lift yourself up and over to the other side. The metal barrier seemed laughably obsolete beneath you.

Eddie blinked twice in rapid succession but composed himself before you reached him again. A peculiar expression graced his face; not so much amusement as much as admiration. If you weren’t so annoyed with him, with his antics back at Eisen’s, you might have cracked a joke about his bad influence rubbing off on you.

The first leg of the trip—the shortest part, as it were, went smoothly. It was once the E train departed from Forest Hills that it almost immediately halted, the exasperated conductor announcing that extensive track work was causing delays.

“Fucking great,” you muttered. Experience told you that the remainder of the ride would be stop-and-go, which meant more time spent with Eddie.

He’d exhaled an exasperated sigh of his own, eyes flickering over the subway car and foot tapping to a beat only he could hear. When he finally spoke, it was the last thing you’d expected him to say.

“Wanna play I Spy?”

“Um, what?”

“Y’know, I spy with my little eye…” he explained, as though you were confused about the game concept.

It took every last ounce of energy not to burst out laughing at his odd request, though it helped that annoyance still tarnished your mood. “All right. Sure.”

“Cool.” He glanced around again, rubbing his palms over his thighs in concentration. “Okay, I spy with my little eye, something purple.”

Squinting, you searched for shades of lilac and violet. “That woman’s shirt?” You jutted your chin towards an older woman sitting across the car.

“Nope.”

“That little girl’s shoes?”

Eddie just shook his head, his dimples gradually deepening with each wrong answer you gave.

Your next three guesses were also incorrect, and Eddie triumphantly pumped his fist when you admitted defeat.

“It’s the words on that sign,” he said, pointing to an advertisement for psychic readings.

It was your turn, and it didn’t take you long to find your target.

“I spy with my little eye, something…douchey.” Your gaze never left his face, watching the skin crease between his brows as he connected your implication.

Eddie threw his head back and cackled, drawing the ire of your fellow commuters. You shushed him with a hiss, his apathy only fueling your anger.

“Fine, I guess I deserved that.” He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms upwards. For a second, you thought he might drape one over your shoulders, but he brought them right back to his lap.

“You guess?” You gawped, and he laughed even louder. “You were a total asshole to Ben for no reason.”

Eddie’s voice got feather-soft; you had to lean in to hear him. “Trust me; I had a reason.”

You snorted. “What, him offering to help carry the wallpaper threatened your ‘man stuff?’”

“Something like that.”

Crossing your arms, you shot him a bemused grimace. Whatever testosterone-laden excuse he concocted would just strengthen your irritation, so you saved yourself the headache and plundered on.

“Ben and I have been friends since I was born.” That wasn’t an exaggeration; a photo of one-year-old Ben holding newborn you was tucked away in one of Mom’s albums. Dad had snapped the photo while Uncle Mo sat next to his son, helping cradle your head. You were only a few hours old. “Whatever your problem is, don’t make it mine. Or his,” you add.

Eddie had no response to that, and you preferred it that way. Maybe he was learning not to argue with you, especially when he was so obviously wrong.

Your response halted all conversation for the rest of the extended ride and continued during the short trek back to the motel. The quiet was necessary, but not peaceful, and you refused to buckle when an invisible pull urged you to talk again, to push past the discomfort. If you couldn’t outright tell him that he’d upset you, the least he could do was feel that anger.

“Where do these go?” Eddie asked once the motel’s doors closed behind you. You pointed to the supply closet and he ambled over, wincing as the hinges squeaked in a plea for lubrication. “All right, so, I can get started on this tonight if you want.”

You considered this for a moment before shaking your head. The lobby could survive another night with bare walls, but you needed a break. A break not just from Eddie, but from his naivety to his actions having consequences.

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

He stilled, his hands halfway in his pockets. “I mean, I was going to stop by anyway; I might as well—”

“I think I just need some quiet tonight.” It was the nicest response you could muster, though the way the words passed through your clenched teeth gave away your annoyance.

“Oh.” His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a breath of air, his eyes refusing to meet yours. Confusion tied his tongue, but if he didn’t realize the mistake he’d made, you were in no mood to spell it out. He waited a beat for you to follow up, to iron out the creases with an explanation that had nothing to do with his earlier behavior, but that never happened.

The lack of reassurance pained you, too. You despised leaving matters unfinished; part of you wanted to apologize—for what, you weren’t sure—just to have some resolution.

Eddie raked his fingers through his curls. “Well, I’m sorry for pissing you off, or whatever.”

Or whatever. Those two words almost had you smacking him upside the head with the wallpaper tubes. Maybe sealing his lips with the glue, too.

The worst part was the shock on his face when you’d wordlessly stormed out of the supply closet towards your room. Like he had no idea what he’d done wrong or why his non-apology fell flat.

No, that was a lie. The worst part was actually the pang of disappointment in your chest when there were no footsteps pounding down the hall, no knock on your door, no attempt to talk through the situation. As much as you wanted to be left alone, you’d clutched to an optimistic sliver that he would follow you. It was a pathetic need for proof that he cared about you as more than just his employer. As his friend.

But there was nothing.

That silence hurt most of all.

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inklore · 7 months

Text

forbidden cravings

premise: stay in your room; that's all you had to do. a simple demand that you planned on following until something goes bump in the night and you're trapped between two monsters.

pairing: vampire!din djarin x reader x vampire!bo-katan kryze

word count: 5k

contents: blood and biting obviously, oral, threats, murder mention, reader is a little clueless, power imbalance, bo is kinda evil but we love her for it, brief mention of piv.

note: this took me way too long to write and by the end of it i was very tired so hopefully someone out there enjoys this lmao. i could possibly see myself writing more within this little world, maybe.

haunted hoedown day five.

You had never noticed how creaky the house was until tonight. Until you were stuck in a dark, dampened room. Your only light coming from the candle at your bedside, the moon, and the flashes of lightening through the windows. The deep red drapes that match the ones that hang around the four poster bed in the middle of the room, that look ancient and eerie, set your already on edge nerves into a frenzy of fight of flight.

You had dusted this room many times. Have been past the threshold and seen it painted in the daylight.

But never at night.

You were prohibited from being here past nightfall.

The master of the house—your boss—had made it clear upon your first interview a year ago that you’d only be needed in the daytime. That staying after nightfall was not something he needed you around for, and it would be of best interest to the house if you departed once the sun set.

It’s a rule you questioned little. A rule you were fine and happy to obey.

It wasn’t your job to question it. It wasn’t your place.

You were the housekeeper, nothing else. Nothing less. Nothing more.

And you’d never think of going against the lord of the manor, Din Djarin.

The infamous inventor.

The mysterious scholar.

The man with whom you’ve slowly bloomed a friendship with while you’ve worked here. The two of you have spent hours in his library with your fingertips, running along old books, relics he’s come across in his travels, and blue prints for inventions he one day wishes to create.

The pair of you bonding over the love of old words and worlds you wish you could have been a part of.

Working for him and being in his home—the dark gray spiraling staircases, the arched doorways, the black and red wallpaper that look hundreds of years old and yet look like they’d just been done yesterday—was a joy.

A better job than working at the mill or getting by on your looks alone to put food on the table.

You lucked out. Was honored to get the position and even more honored to befriend the destinguishinly handsome Lord Djarin.

His staff soon became like a second family to you. A home away from home—a much more beautiful and sprawling home than your own, but a home in all senses of the word.

Not even the curfew could dampen your love or the job.

The only thorn in your side, the only downfall—negativity—to working for the Lord was his companion, his wife, Lady Kryze.

While most days, the two of you would rarely cross paths. Her off on travel, or in the west wing of the house that you seldom find yourself in.

But when appearance’s were known, brief or not, she always had a look of haughtiness about her. Her red hair laying perfectly on her shoulders, and her dresses always form fitting and beautifully cascading to the floor. The neck line plunged lower than what’s usually considered proper—that always made your cheeks heat when you found yourself rudely staring, a smirk on her lips that quickly got washed away with a scornful arch of her brows.

She had never been rude to you. Had never demanded of you or treated you unkindly the way one would think when you looked at her intimidatingly beautiful face. The power you know she held with just a look, a twitch of a smile, or the flick of her fingers.

She was the opposite of Lord Djarin.

The two seeming an odd match for two people destined to be together.

Your schoolgirl crush on the Lord of the Manor definitely having little to do with your opinion on the fact.

It had been Lady Kryze who had suggested you stay. Almost demanding it, with the weather outside being too dangerous to travel. The winds whistling through the old bones of the house. The rain coming down like heavy hail. The thunder that you could feel deep in your bones each time it rumbled.

Lord Djarin had protested on the matter. Said you could wait out the storm but insisted you leave after.

“Don’t be rude, honey.” Lady Kryze had said. The sentiment, honey, came off more as an insult than as something sweet and tender. The look on the Lord’s face one of strain and frustration. A warning flashed in his eyes before he gave you a tight lipped smile and nodded in agreement.

And now here you are. Dressed in a nightgown that Lady Kryze had supplied you with. The white fabric feeling almost like satin against your chilled skin, the lack of heat coming from the radiator on the other side of the room making you frown as your breasts made it more than clear how your body was reacting to the draft in the room—to the cold storm outside.

The loud thump that startles you from outside of your door tears your gaze from the window and elevates your unease when you put your ear to the dark wood and hear nothing but the old house talking in the way one does in storms or settling.

Lord Djarin had ordered you to stay in your room. To lock the door from the inside and try to get some rest. Assuring you that all was alright, the drafts liked to open the doors at night.

Listening to the plea in his voice that he tried to hide with his endearing smile was enough to convince you not to try it. To listen to his words. To do what had been asked of you without question once again.

But the thump comes again. This time, sounding closer. Perhaps a glass broke somewhere in the hall.

Your teeth chew at your bottom lip in worry.

What if the Lord or Lady needed help? What if they had fallen? The lack of electricity in the house was more than a factor, a reason, for something that could cause a fall. Candlelight only shows so much in these dark halls.

And while there had been no cry for help. No croak, groan, or indication that someone needs help; you can’t help the way your heart escalates or why you ignore the nerves, making your hand shake as you unlock the door, twist the cold handle, and open it a sliver.

Your eyes search the vast darkness of the hall within the tiny space you’ve given yourself. The lit candles in the holders on the wall do little to aid in you seeing anything other than small glows of orange light past the railing that lines the hall.

The words of the Lord push into the back of your mind as you open the door more and poke your head out into the dark space. The strings of lightening outside paint the empty hall in blue light. Streaking against the dark wallpaper hauntingly.

“Lord Djarin?” Your voice is faint compared to the booming thunder outside. A gulp of air fills your lungs when you get enough bravery to step fully out of your room and speak a little louder, “Lady Kryze?”

The silence only pushes you forward.

Has your bare feet cold and weary against the long rug on the hardwood floor. The floorboards creak with each step that you take.

The portraits of unknown people by unknown painters look more intimidating and scary the longer you venture through the hall. The candles shadow their faces in scowls that aren’t normally there in the daylight.

Your fingers dig into the side of your nightgown, bunching up the fabric as your heart hammers against your ribs.

Maybe you should go back to your room. Maybe it was nothing. The rooms with open doors were dark and abandoned. The staircases are bare, and the entryway below, when you look over the rail, is completely encased in darkness.

Maybe it had come from the west wing of the house. Maybe it was a branch outside. Your mind isn’t sure. Isn’t thinking about anything other than getting back to your room, engulfing yourself in the bedspread, and trying to ignore every creepy sound that the storm outside aids in the houses off putting nature.

Being here at night was, in fact, something your nerves could not handle, it seemed.

You sigh. Come to a stop at the last door along the hallway. Your bottom lip sore from your worrying. Whatever the thump was, it’s not something as drastic as your mind had probably come up with, and unless you feel like venturing down the stairs and through the rest of the house, it wasn’t your concern—and the prospect made you shiver knowing some parts of the house didn’t have candles lining the walls.

But when you turn to head back to your room, your body crashes into another, and the scream you let out rings along with a crack of thunder, filtering the hallway into a horrific sound of chaos and fear.

“You were told to stay in your room.”

“Oh my—" your hand flies to your chest. The beat of your heart feels as if it might beat it’s way out of the cavern of your ribs. Your lungs finally fill with the air that had been whooshed out of you when you had collided with the other person once you realized who it was. “Lady Kryze.”

“I was told you listen to directions well,” her smile is pressed and sure. Humorous in the way her eyes move along your appearance. The relief you felt from it being her soon dying when you remember how see through your nightgown is. Your arms cross over your bare chest. “How misguided.”

“I-I was just,” you swallow. Try to get your breathing back to normal. Try to stop the pounding in your ears matching up with the rain outside—with the booms of thunder. “I heard a noise.” You manage to get out. The amused raise of her brow makes your body heat up in something akin to embarrassment or a child running to their mother at night because they are scared.

Lady Kryze hums, “many things go bump in the night around here. It’s an old house.”

“Of course,” you nod. “Yes.” You laugh nervously, breathy, and unsure. Trying to ease the tension that’s growing between the two of you. Worried you might be jobless come morning. “I apologize. I was just worried that you or Lord Djarin may have been hurt.”

“You’re a doctor? Here I thought you were a maid.” Her smile is mocking, unkind. But that’s when you finally take her fully in. With the flashes of lightening through the window at the end of the hall, giving light to the shadows that dance along her face in the candlelight.

She looks…different.

There's a deep red tint to her lips that’s not usually there. You can’t recall the last time you saw her wear lipstick, let alone that shade. Her hair is darker and more unruly at the bottom than usual. Than the sleek look of perfection it’s always at. Her clothes—her dress—stained a deep red and ripped at the top, standing her paler than normal skin out.

Your eyes look down to her nails; they’re longer. Stained the same shade as her lips and her dress.

Somethings not right.

And when your gaze meets hers again, you can see how much darker her eyes look than what you’re used to seeing below that scowl. Bigger. Almost as if her pupils had doubled in size.

Your lack of subtlety seems to give you away when you quickly try to sidestep her and head for your room.

“Now that I know you’re both fine, I’ll just go back to my room now.” You say softly, give her a forced smile as you try to keep your composure and act as normal as you would if you weren’t scared out of your skin.

Lady Kryze laughs under her breath. Let’s you step past her and walk one, two, or five steps before there’s a grip at the back of your elbow and your back is being slammed into the wall. The gasp of your lungs deflates from the pressure puffing out against her face with how close she is.

“Lady Kr-”

“Bo.” She corrects, her eyes wandering down your face, pausing at your lips and the junction where your jaw meets your neck. Swallowing hard before her gaze cascades to your chest, “I always hated the pleasantries Din demanded we go by to fit in with you…humans.”

“You humans?” You give her a quizicall look, too much going on in your nervous system to comprehend her words. To make sense of them when the fear of the emotion in her eyes reads hunger.

And when she laughs again, her smile more genuine than any you’ve seen spread across her perfectly proportioned lips before; you see it. See them.

The pointed teeth that have replaced her normal ones.

The way they gleam off of the orange glow of the candles. The way they make you swallow. Make your chest hurt from the bruising your heart is doing to your ribs from beating so fast.

What is she?

“I thought you were smart? With the way Din talks about you, I imagined you would have figured it out by now. Especially with how close the two of you have been getting.” The accusation makes your heart stop. A cold fear pricking at your insides that makes your skin feel clammy.

The raising of her brow makes the feeling worse as you shake your head. Open your mouth to protest on the matter, to not encourage the accusation that there might be something going on with Lord Djarin and you, her husband.

“Don’t worry,” she smirks. Leans in closer so her lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “I like to share.” Your body trembles when her hand leaves your shoulder and her fingers run along the side of your breast. Her pointer skating along your erect nipple, making you gasp softly. “We both do.”

“Lady Kryze–I,” there’s words meant to come out. Words meant to put an end to whatever this standoff, or showdown, is. You’re lost, you’re captivated, and you’re frightened. But her cheeks and lips brush against yours as she moves herself back so she can look at you; her dark eyes make every syllable on your tongue lay thick and weighted down like sludge.

There’s a silence that has enough tension to make your body buzz and your brain catch up to put the puzzle pieces together with the information that has always been laid out for you. Things you took as old family traditions you didn’t care to understand.

The presistant curfew, the eerie darkness that hung over the manor once the sun started to set. The mysterious cases of maids and butlers going missing without a trace. The town just beyond your own’s population dwindling down. Neighbors and friends gone.

Lady Kryze’s dark eyes, her teeth.

“You’re the cause of all the disappearances.” It’s not a question because you already know the answer. The slow spread of her lips only solidified the gathered information in your head to fit neatly in a box of truths. “And,” you swallow, hate how your heart aches at the very thought. “Lord Djarin..he–”

“Is much more discrete than I.” She seems to find a silent annoyance in the statement. In the way your body lets out a shaky breath as if you’re relieved. It makes her eye twitch before she’s leaning in again, her lips closer to yours now. Her breath smells of metal. “He doesn’t like to indulge in the bounty we’ve been given. Says it’s not right to eat thy neighbor.” Her tongue runs across her bottom lip, one of her sharp teeth catching on the skin. “I say, why waste such delicious gifts? And delicious they are, especially the ones who beg. The ones who let me play with my food before I eat it.”

Her laugh makes your body shiver. A reaction she seems to like too much, as her lips skim across yours. The metallic scent of her tongue inhaled by your shaky breaths and swallowed down, leaving your throat dry and your tongue itching to reach out for the source.

The source of it’s weight, the source of the ache in your jaw with the need to drink. A thirst for what you’re sure is water and not the nourishment that’s so clearly painted Lady Kryze’s lips red and her tongue. Your body willing to use any source of fluid to aid you.

Not because the metallic linger of her breath sits on your tastebuds like an open invitation. Not because her fingers are still at the side of your breast, your peaked nipple aching to be brushed over by her again.

“Will you let me play with you?” Her nose brushes yours as her head turns, and her lips just catch the corner of your mouth, a gasp leaving your lips as they move across your cheek and her teeth clip on your jawline. “I know how hard it is for my husband to be near you every day and not sink his teeth into this beautiful neck. You look as good as you’ll taste.”

A moan racks your ribcage when her hand grips the side of your neck, bending it so the other side is on full display and her lips press to the sensitive flesh. Her tongue coming out to run the tip lightly against you, like she doesn’t dare indulge too much. Like it’s an appetizer to what she really wants.

A trail of bruising kisses and hungry noises coming from the woman making your chest heave, your fingers daring to come up to her elbow to grip the fabric of her dress as an anchor—or to pull her closer—you're not too sure what your body wants, your senses not matching up with the fear still plaguing your brain.

“Will you run for me, little rabbit?” You can feel the amusement at her own words with the smirk that’s pressed just below your ear. Your body canting at the derogatory pet name.

Until her next words come out of her mouth in a booming shriek that makes your ears ring and your body recoil from her in defense to protect itself from wrath.

“Run!”

And you do.

Not turning back to look to see if she’s chasing you. All the heat once again drained from your body, any pleasure you had been feeling doused out, and brought tears burning at the corners of your eyes.

The candles on the wall continue to be your guiding light. Even when you step on something that makes you hiss. That tears the skin on the bottom of your foot enough to stutter your sprint. A limp catches in your leg as you try to make haste.

You were foolish for staying here. Foolish for leaving your room. Foolish for not seeing what this house really was or what it’s occupants really were.

Foolish.

If there had been a spell, you had fallen for it. Like a silly little girl.

The closer you get to your chamber door, the harder your heart beats against your ribs. The harder you try to ignore the sting in your heel. The harder it is for you to breathe.

The distance only seems to get further and further away from safety the longer you try for it. The longer your eyes strain in the candlelight to not step on something else that could make you completely imobile. Completely at Lady Kryze’s mercy.

Who you don’t hear behind you.

Who—upon your better judgment, one would say—you look for as you turn your head towards the path behind you. Your blood running cold when you see that all the candles have completely gone out and you can’t see a thing.

The flashes of lightening from the windows down below cascading the barest amount of light onto the floor.

It’s the least of your worries when your body collides with a wall.

Or what feels like a wall—a strained ache coming to your chest upon the collusion, your body thrown backwards as you groan from the impact your tailbone makes against the hard floor.

And when your eyes open, you realize it’s not a wall you’ve collided with; it’s Lord Djarin.

“I told you to stay in your room.” His voice is full of authority and aggravation as he pulls you from the floor. It’s a tone he’s never used on you, a grip on your arm that’s much more cruel than the light touches of fleeting moments spent together.

“She–Lady Kryze–She.”

“Is insatiable, yes.” There’s a growl that’s completely for his wife’s sake and not your own. But the sound still makes your stomach clench. Your body dragged along the hallway by the hands of the man you’re now realizing is more dangerous than any normal man.

A monster.

Like his wife.

And yet, you feel safe in his tight grasp. Feel safe with the memories you share with him. Of him. The man you knew before the monster.

The fear of him never coming.

The fear only comes back once you’ve reached your room, and he’s pushing you through the door only for your back to collide with something icy that grips your wrist and snakes it’s fingers along the column of your neck to hold you against it.

“Bo.” Lord Djarin’s voice is stern. Angry.

“Darling.” You can feel the smile that’s wrapped around the word even without seeing Lady Kryze’s face.

The cold of her body seeping through your night dress and against your skin—a cold that’s not from the fear of what she is rather than what she’s doing. What has stained her lips and tongue and what you wanted so badly to taste just minutes ago. The same deep red clearly stained in the front fabric of your gown that you hadn’t noticed until now.

Until you’re standing in front of Lord Djarin, your night dress more see through and clinging to your body, where it’s damp from blood and straining against your breasts.

Lady Kryze’s grip tightens on your throat, and it makes a breathless noise fall from your lips. A noise that has Lord Djarin’s eyes honing in on your mouth, moving along to his wife's hand on your throat, before plunging down to your chest. A hard swallow and a deep scowl shot at the woman holding you in her vise.

“Let her go.”

“We were just having a little fun. Weren’t we?” Her teeth knick your earlobe, and it makes your body contort against her hold. “See,” she smirks.

“Bo. No.” His tone has finality. Has something that wordlessly lets you know he’s tired of this topic; he’s clearly told her no on before.

Something inside your stomach lightens up and burns at the thought of Lord Djarin denying his wife the pleasure of making you a meal time and time again. Was it out of respect? Care? Want?

Did she want to sink her teeth into you so badly because of jealousy at the closeness you and her husband had found the longer you worked here? No, she said they like to share. Said she likes to share.

Was it want then?

The want to do more than end your life by draining you.

“Come on, Din.” The hand at your wrist does a show of crawling with her sharp nails over your midsection and to your hip to start pulling up your night dress. Your thighs quickly come into view as she bunches the fabric further and further up. A shyness takes over you as you wiggle in her grasp as you watch Lord Djarin’s eyes follow the movement with a hungry look. “We all know you want her.”

Her lips press against your jaw as she murmurs to you, “he never allows himself to indulge in the things he wants. He’s so disciplined. Such a good man. He’d never let it slip that after you leave his library, he bends me over his desk and fucks me the way he wishes he could fuck you.”

An involentary noise that get’s choked out of your throat makes her laugh softly, “tell him he can have you. Tell him you like it.” Your eyes lock with his; his eyes just as dark and monstrous as his wife's now that you’re really looking at them. His lips that deep red—the same red you smelled and craved to taste on her lips.

Your thighs inwardly press together, causing the pressure between them to ease the slightest, but grow worse when your backside pushes back against Lady Kryze and she lets out a noise that sounds just as lovely as she looks.

“Look, Din.” A heat comes to your cheeks as the rest of the fabric of your gown is pulled above your hips, showcasing your nakedness to both of them. “There’s no denying she wants you,” her fingers move down to grip your inner thigh. The clear and evident proof of your arousal—that you’re not sure was caused earlier or right now—coats your skin and her fingers.

“No, she is not-”

“What? Food?” Lady Kryze laughs, “we both know you’d never let me drain her. Nor could you bear to have anything but her essence touch your tongue. But she can be a toy. You can fuck her. We both can.”

You can see the internal battle he’s fighting with himself—against his wife, against what’s right, against his want.

And there’s a part of you that understands. That knows this is wrong. That has barely come to terms with what they are—monsters, myths, and scary stories you tell little children at night to get them to go to bed.

But then the proof of your arousal, of your own want is being toyed with between your thighs as Lady Kryze runs a finger through your wetness. Your hips canting against her hand as she pulls it away just as quick as it was there and holds her finger out to her husband.

“Taste her.”

His head is about to shake; you can sense it. See it before it happens by the way his fists bunch at his sides. Maybe that's why you finally find your voice, “please.”

And it’s as if those are the words he’s been waiting for you to say since the day you’ve met. Since you’ve started working for him. The speed at which he’s against your front and his lips are wrapped around the finger that has gathered the wetness from your pussy makes you feel woozy.

Makes you sway on your feet and loosen in Lady Kryze’s hold. Her nails dig into your flesh as she holds you tighter, keeping you upright for her husband.

Whose finger is under your chin, mouth daringly close to yours as he murmurs, “are you certain?”

Do you want this?

Do you want all it entails if you let this continue?

His dark eyes speak; let you know that he’ll stop this. That while you might be weak in comparison to who they truly are, you have a say, and he’ll do whatever you wish.

A wise woman would heed the warning that’s in the brow he raises. Thats in the descent of his finger down your chin and to your jugular. Your heartbeat thudding against the pad of his finger. His tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes cast to your neck and then up to his wife.

Who's giving him a smile you can’t see but can feel in the way her body shifts, pulling your thighs apart easily. Lord Djarin needs no more confirmation for either of you as he falls to his knees, a rough hand cupping the back of your thigh to lift and bring it up and over his shoulder.

Your back arching, and a gasp rakes through your body when you feel the bite of teeth against your inner thigh. Feel the sting of punctured skin, the pull of something inside that’s making your eyes flutter, and the pressure in your lower belly thumping at the same speed as your heart.

When your eyes shift down, when he’s stopped, when you feel like you could either pass out or come from just this, you see blood—your blood—staining his lips and tongue. See his eyes go even darker, black, and void of any human attributes. Making him look entirely like a monster that’s hungry, starved.

And you’ve completely offered yourself up for the taking.

There’s a deep moan coming from Lord Djarin as his fingers and tongue clean his mouth. It’s obscene as much as it is beautiful to watch. Your arousal only grows worse at the sight.

“How does she taste?”

“Exqusite.” He murmurs against your skin, his tongue running over the marks he’s just left in your thigh, working it’s way up to the apex of your thigh. Your legs shake the closer he gets to your pussy.

A cry burns your lungs when you feel him dive into you without any warning. His tongue licking through your wetness, his nose pressing against your clit. The tip of it creates a slow grind that only intensifies when you cant your hips up. When you thrust against the air, his tongue slips inside of you, pushing it further inside. Your fingers dig into the sides of your dress as you try not to completely collapse against either of them.

The pleasure coursing through your body makes that easier said than done.

Lady Kryze is humming against your cheek, her hand coming down to slow the movement of your hips. “Take your time, little rabbit.” She trails kisses and soft bites over and under your jaw to your earlobe, where she lets the tip of her tongue run against it. “Because once you’ve come, you’re mine to play with.”

#din djarin x reader #bo katan x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #bo katan x din #bo katan smut #din djarin x bo katan kryze #din djarin x female reader #bo katan x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #bo katan kryze x reader #bo katan kryze smut #hauntedhoedown

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fictionobsession · 2 months

Text

devotion

Pairing: Alastor x f!Reader

Summary: She would give anything for him.

Word Count: 1,997

Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, Alastor being psychotic

A/N: okay friends, first time writing for Al. this was not beta'd or really edited at all so if something seems weird just... assume I meant to fix it. also, this was written as a QPR, but there's a little feelings on reader's side if you squint. I'm not 100% on how in character this is for Alastor, but we tried and that's what matters right

---

She plopped onto the shitty couch and pulled her knees to her chest, looking around the shitty house where they'd been hiding out in the middle of this shitty swamp for the last two shitty weeks. The wallpaper was peeling and yellowed, the floors covered in mold and mildew, the running water only worked half the time, and, more importantly, the refrigerator was empty as of six nights prior. Her stomach rumbled just thinking about a nice juicy cut. She sighed, closing her eyes and allowing herself to sink into the daydream of food.

She knew when she'd gotten into this hobby with Alastor that there was a non-zero chance she would wind up on the run someday. She just wished they could have put it off a bit longer, had a bit more fun. She laid her head back against the rotting couch until she heard the creak of the floor near the front door.

Her eyes snapped open and her brows furrowed as she took in Alastor's hunting attire.

“Al, where do you think you're going?”

“Well, my dear, unless you feel like us both starving to death in this dismal abode, I thought I'd better go get some food.”

“Alastor. You know we've heard the dogs nearby. You can't possibly go out there without getting caught, at least until we've had a couple days where we haven't heard 'em.”

“Again, starving is not on my agenda, so we don't particularly have another choice.”

Another choice. Her face hardens as she realizes what another option might be. She stood up and crossed the room, grabbing Alastor's arm before he could open the door. “There is a way for us to make it out of this without you leaving. Or rather, a way for one of us to make it out of this.”

He hummed, and she could see the wheels turning as he put together what she was implying. “I'm not sacrificing myself for you to get away, you know.”

“I know. That's why I'm just asking you to get it over with quickly. You'll get more time, and I – well, I'll at least get to go out on my own terms. If I have to go, at least it'll be for you.”

His eyes widened just a bit, more reaction than she'd usually get, before he shrugged. “Okay. Painless it is. Not usually my style, but I think I can figure it out.”

She laughed, a genuine, full laugh. “I know, Al, and that's why we've worked out so well. But I think you could at least do that much for me.”

He pulled his hunting knife from where he had already slid it into his belt. “Are you ready?”

And with one nod, everything went black.

It seemed instantaneous, appearing in hell. She looked around, taking in the chaos around her. Literal dumpster fires, public sex, casual street murders, Hell had it all. Of course, arriving in Hell wasn't a surprise for her. You don't kill that many people and expect to get into Heaven. She wasn't even sure she had believed in the whole afterlife thing until she was experiencing it. She shrugged it off, finding the closest place with a mirror she could use for free.

Her body was... different, certainly. But intact, and honestly, she was quite happy with it. Given the various types of demons she'd seen just in her brief time there, it could've been a lot worse. She wandered, putting together a plan of action for getting herself set up in Hell. It seemed she would need income to make most things happen, which made finding a job a top priority. She also needed a place to sleep, as it seemed unsafe at best to stay on the streets.

She got a job fairly quickly at Ozzie's, though she wasn't thrilled with the outfit they made her wear for the whole thing. But it was money, and easy work, so she stuck with it. Asmodeus offered her a fairly decent rate on rent nearby, as well, so she could have done worse.

Shortly after getting settled, she started feeling pressure on her body in random locations and at seemingly random times, almost like someone was grabbing or poking her to get her attention. Occasionally she'd get hot spots, which she at first attributed to it being hot in Hell. Little scrapes and cuts would appear sometimes as well, but they always healed up quickly. It wasn't until the final time it happened that she realized what had been happening over the past few weeks.

A perfect bite imprint appeared on her forearm, accompanied by a sharp pain, and she realized it must have been an effect of Alastor in the living world. She traced her finger over the mark, which had healed into almost a scar, but not quite. It was a bit pink, but wasn't angry and fresh. She smiled a little to herself, happy that her sacrifice hadn't been in vain.

As time went on, she found herself tracing the mark when she was feeling stressed, upset, or particularly lonely. It never healed all the way, making it always a bit sensitive to touch, and served as a reminder of why she was here. The mark always made her feel closer to Al, which brought a little comfort when things got crazy.

She had managed to stay within the same few blocks that she knew were heavily policed by Asmodeus's people. However, six months into her stay in Hell, she finally had to leave her little neighborhood to buy some things for the bar. She packed her gun, a knife, and made sure she was dressed inconspicuously – the rumors about the surrounding areas were very...detailed...about what might happen to someone who ended up on the wrong side of a fight.

Unfortunately, her preparation didn't keep her from getting spotted by some Sharks outside the store as she started back toward her apartment. She tried to hurry, sliding between demons and other sinners, before slipping down an alley to attempt to lose her tail. It was too late by the time she realized it was a dead end, and the Sharks started cutting off her only entrance.

She took one step, two, keeping them in her sight until her back hit the brick wall behind her. Her hand reached for her gun, ready to pull it when the lead Shark got close enough. Their glares were paralyzing, and she could smell the smoke and alcohol on them at that distance. She felt herself start to shake, taking a deep breath to steady herself before -

“You wouldn't want people to think you're picking on those of fairer means would you?” The sound and feeling of static crackled through the air like lightning as a dark shape enveloped the opening to the alleyway. A long, thin shadow ripped through the air, straight through the lead Shark, throwing him against the side of the neighboring building.

Green sparks shone through the seemingly infinite blackness, a pair of what could only be described as antlers growing from the approaching shape. Two more tendrils, picking up the remaining Sharks and tossing them into the air like dolls. She wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't look away from the gore. Sure, she had seen a lot of violence in her time in Hell, but she hadn't seen that level of overkill in quite some time.

As the last of the Sharks fled only to get a tendril through the skull, she pressed herself as far into the corner as possible, sliding down the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. There was only the hope that the demon forgot she existed, and the knowledge that if he hadn't, she would likely be next up for second death.

The shadow approached, darkness fading as he got closer until finally it revealed a man. A tall man, with horns, but just a man, nonetheless. He was straightening out his red coat, and twirling something around in his hands as he approached. “Always good to have an excuse to let off a little steam. Always good.”

He put a hand out to help her up. As she lifted herself off the ground, he was already vaguely shaking her hand, introducing himself. “Name's Alastor, pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure.”

His name hit her ears about the time he caught a glimpse of her bite, and both stopped dead in the middle of introductions. She looked up, eyes widening as she realized that yes, that was a microphone, and yes, in fact, it had been quite a while since she'd seen that level of overkill, one could even say since her living days. He looked different now, sure, but as soon as she looked into his eyes, she knew that was her Al.

“Well maybe don't wait so long to come save my ass next time, eh, Al?” She smirked up at him, waiting for him to process what was happening. His nails traced the pattern of his own bite on her arm. She caught sight of his tongue tracing across his teeth, as if he was just then realizing how different they'd really become. “I bet your imprint looks a bit different now, doesn't it?” She spoke more to herself than to him as she reached to pull her sleeve down over the mark.

“Why, I should hope so, my dear. I should very much hope so. Let's see just how much it's changed then!” Without any more warning than that, he pulled her arm to his mouth and bit, hard. The new mark bled, sure, but it healed up more quickly than it probably should have, covering his old impression with his new one. His ears twitched subconsciously, his ever-present smile nearly faltering as he watched the blood drip, drip, drip down her arm. He shook himself out of whatever thoughts were distracting him rather quickly before acting like no time had passed at all since they'd been together last. “Now, I don't think I should leave you alone again. It seems to me that you still can't stay out of trouble, my dear! Come along, let me show you where I've been staying!”

“But – Hang on! Al! I've got to go to work!”

“Ah, there'll be no more need of that anymore. We'll send a notice to... whoever you're working for when you get settled.” He raised an eyebrow, practically daring her to argue. She knew, though, that she'd never gone against what he'd wanted before, and she didn't particularly want to start now. She took the elbow he'd offered her and allowed him to lead her out of the alley.

Occasionally, as they walked, she would catch sight of a shadow that seemed to be following them.

“Oh, don't mind them. They're just keeping an eye on your wellbeing. You better get used to it! Having a friend like me, why, other overlords will just be dying to get their hands on you!”

She scoffed, a look of adoration crossing her features before she tactfully replaced it with annoyance. “I'm not going to get any rest now, am I?”

“Oh contraire, ma cherie! You're going to get everything you've ever wanted and deserved. I owe you that after what you did for me up there, wouldn't you say?”

“Oh I just can't wait to show you Cannibaltown! You've got to meet Rosie, yes. You'll get along very well, very well indeed. And she makes the most delectable little treats! Maybe we'll go by tomorrow.”

As he continued rambling, she hummed approval when appropriate, watching him out of the corner of her eye with a mix of caution and longing. As he led her down streets she'd never seen before, she realized maybe this was all her afterlife had needed after all.

#alastor x reader #alastor x oc #aroace!alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #tw: blood #tw: cannibalism #hazbin hotel fic

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hometoursandotherstuff · 9 months

Text

Question: Why are we not living our best lives in this cool spook-ass castle in France? This is 15th century Castle Brive-la-Gaillarde and it's under $1M. It has its own hamlet of outbuildings, with 10bds & 1ba (we would have to add a few of those). € 690k / $ 760,700. Let's take a look at this fabulous home.

Now, to me, this is freakin' move-in-ready. There's nothing wrong with this, it's beautiful. Just need a little cleaning and sprucing up.

We've got leaded glass windows, wainscoting and central heating.

Woah, look at that fireplace. Amazing ceiling and the floor looks fine. We'll have to find out what's going on with the walls. At least none of the wood is ruined.

Yowzuh! Look at this room. It gets more fab as we go.

Ornamental cement fireplace with bright blue tiles. Beautiful wainscoting, herring bone floors.

Ceiling details.

Maybe a bedroom? Sunny, beautiful fireplace, built-in book nook.

What could be better than stained glass windows w/a dragon crest?

Look at this, m'lady's boudoir.

Wait, that's not wallpaper, that's fabric. So maybe there isn't a leak in the walls- it's just dampness and age.

Is that an electrical outlet? Needs rewiring.

Wow, look at the wall of closets in here, around the fireplace.

Definitely fabric on these walls. We can easily tear it down.

Incredible turret. Mind the holes, stay to the right. This needs some masonry reinforcement.

Isn't this amazing?

Rapunzel view.

Nobody gets in to see the Wizard!

Countryside view from a door. I wish they would've shown the kitchen. More than likely, it will need work, but I would like to see if it's useable.

The view from an upper window.

Check out the outbuildings, the Hamlet. This is like a little village. Plenty of room for everyone.

Barns and stables.

So, for about $760K, you get 5.6 acres with a castle for you to live in, plus your own hamlet surrounding it. What will you name your village?

This is the town, Brive-la-Gaillarde, rated the best place to visit in France by Tripadvisor.

#castle in france #castles #historic castles #houses #house tours #old house dreams #home tour

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heartfeltcierra · 1 year

Text

Dude where's my submarine? Part 1 of Isekaied Law X Female Reader

AN- This will be a multiple part series. I should have the second part up by Sunday night. This was a change of pace from my normal writing so I hope you all enjoy :)

Masterlist

Part 2- Here

Part 3- Here

Word Count 4.8K, Lightly edited

Summary- A familiar man finds himself in your strange land, so what do you do? Give him unrestricted access to the internet, hope for the best and pray he doesn't see your AO3.

Warnings~ Mentions of being sick, Light cursing, Suggestive content, Angst, Fluff, Modern World AU, Y/N is a huge simp for Law and has a hard time hiding it

“I am so sick of being sick.” You groan out before blowing your nose into a tissue. “If this keeps up my nose is going to fall off.” You throw the used tissue into your bedside trash can that was home to a million more just like it.

You’ve been sick for the past week and no matter what medicine you’ve taken nothing is helping you get better. At this point you'd do just about anything to be able to breathe out of both nostrils again.

You look over at your alarm clock through your glassy eyes and see the glowing red numbers. Crap, it's already midnight?

The familiar sound of your text tone fills the silent room. Who's messaging me this late at night? After unlocking your phone you see a text from an unknown number saying. “What do you wish for?”

After looking at it for a few moments you chose to ignore it thinking It’s some type of scam. You lean over to plug your phone to its charger, causing the screen to light up. A smile forms on your lips seeing the familiar fictional man you simp for as your wallpaper, Trafalgar Law. A thought crosses your mind. If I could make a wish……

“I wish you were here Law, I bet you could help me get better in no time.” You laugh at yourself as soon as the words left your dry lips. “I sound crazy, but i guess It was worth a shot. I should probably go to a real life doctor tomorrow.” You turn onto your side and curl up next to a pillow before closing your eyes.

Thump

The unprompted noise causes your body to tense up. It almost sounded like someone or something fell. Slowly, you turn around on the bed and look into the pitch black area where the sound came from.

Thump

“What the….” Your racing heart stops in your chest hearing a man's voice followed by an irritated grunt.

“Who’s there?!” You grab your phone off the bedside table and turn the flashlight on while getting into a defensive position. “No way.” Your eyes nearly fall out of socket. In the middle of your room, clear as day, was a very realistic looking Law. I have to be hallucinating. You blink a few times, but he was still there, giving you a confused look. “LAW?!” Your legs give out thanks to the cocktail of shock and adrenaline , causing you to fall into the floor a few feet away from him.

“Where am I and who the hell are you?” He quickly stood up from the floor and held the handle of his sword like he was going to attack. “I’d answer quickly if I were you.” His golden eyes were sharp and serious.

“No need for that!” You stick your hands up showing you have no weapon. “Trust me when I say I’m not stupid enough to fight you. Nor would I anyways.” You can’t help but smile like an idiot, completely enthralled at the fact he was in your room. “You're like my favorite character Law!” You cringe at yourself the second the words left your mouth. Be cool Y/N, be cool.

“Favorite character?” He removes his hand from the sword and surveys the unfamiliar room. “Care to explain what is going on?” You stand up from the floor and turn the bedside lamp on.

“Well if I’m being honest, I’m not so sure myself.” With the room better illuminated, you get a good look at Law. He was wearing his signature post time skip hat, dotted jeans and a hoodie with his jolly Roger on it. I don’t think I’ve seen that one before. “For starters, you are currently in a different world.” You watch as Law’s brows furrow in confusion. “What I'm about to tell you may be alot to take in, so you may want to sit down.” You motion towards an empty spot on your bed. “My name is Y/N by the way, Y/N L/N.”

“I’d introduce myself, but it seems you already know me.” Law props his sword up against your bedpost before sitting down. “Go on.”

He follows along as you summarize your world to him and how you know who he is.

“So in your world I’m from a book series and tv show called ‘One piece’.” You nod your head. “ And in this world there is no ‘one piece’, devil fruit abilities, or pirates?”

“Well there are pirates, but they aren’t a big threat like they were in the 1700’s. That was this world's golden era of piracy. Right now the year here is 2023, so it was a long long time ago.”

“I see.” Law props his chin up on his hand. “So what did you mean when you said I was your favorite character?” You give him a nervous smile.

“Oh well you see. I just think you're really cool.” The complement causes a smirk to form on his lips. “Let me show you something.” You jump up from the bed and walk over to your closet. You dig around until you find what you were looking for. “Tadah.” You turn around to reveal the replica of Law's hat placed on your head “ROOM……..SHAMBLES “ You do the hand movements for his attacks. “Pretty impressive huh?” I look like a dork.

“Yeah, good job.” Law deadpans. “My turn.. ROOM.” The air in your room grows dense as the blue film spreads across your bedroom. “SHAMBLES.” You felt the hat on your head shift before it transferred into Law's hand, meaning the one you wore now was the real thing.

“Yours is a lot better quality than mine. But it’s the real thing so that makes sense.” You hold the hat and study its fine details. “And it’s a lot fluffier.”

“Oh yeah?” He took the lesser version of his hat off and spun it around in his hand. “Yeah this one is pretty crappy.” “SHAMBLES.” The knockoff hat was sadly transferred back into your hands. You place it back in your closet before sitting back down on the bed.

“I know you just met me and I’m sure you're overwhelmed right now, but can I ask a favor of you?” To your surprise Law nods his head. “I’ve been sick for the past week and I feel like crap. I’ve taken every medicine under the sun and I’m still not better. Do you think you can help?”

“I figured you were from the sound of your voice. I should be able to.” Law got off the bed and pulled his sword out. “Lay back.” If only that was in a different context. You lay down and watch as his sword waves over your body. “SCAN.”

“Did you see anything?” Law nods before putting his sword down.

“It’s right here.” Law places two fingers on a spot above your chest. The gesture causes your heart to flutter. “You have a virus of some kind. I’m not familiar with it, but I can take it out.” You feel blood rush towards your cheeks as his fingers brush against your skin. “Do you trust me Y/N?” He said my name!

“I do.” You nod confirming.

“Good. It may hurt for a moment. Just close your eyes, and it will be over before you know it.” Law's voice was smooth and calming. You slam your eyes shut and felt a sharp pain, but it was gone just as quick as it came. “Done. You will still have some drainage for a few days, but the virus itself is gone.” He places his sword back into its sheath and props it back up against your bedpost.

“Strangely enough I already feel a little better, thank you.” You weren't lying either. The heaviness in your chest was gone and the pressure behind your eyes was dwindling away. “So...” Law hums to let you know he was listening. “I’m not really sure how you got here, and I’m not really sure how to get you back if I’m being honest. I’m still having a hard time believing you're actually here.”

“Yeah. It’s pretty strange.” Law takes his hat off and leans back on the bed. “One minute I was walking around the submarine and the next minute I had some weird girl asking for favors and copying my moves.” You gasp at his audacity.

“Is that so? Well this ‘weird girl’, is the only person you have in this strange world you’ve found yourself in, so maybe you should be nicer.” You cross your arms over your chest defensively.

“You know I did just heal you.” He says in a matter of fact tone. “Was that not nice enough for you?”

“No, it was very nice. But…” You grab your nearest squishmallow and chuck into Law’s face. “What kind of doctor calls his patient a ‘weird girl’.”

“What kind of patient throws a..?” Law grabs the stuffed animal and examines it. You watch as a small grin forms on his lips after giving the plush a small squeeze.

“They are called squishmallows.” You point over to a shelf that’s filled with them. “I really like them as you can see.”

“I won't lie... It's kinda ugly."

“He is not ugly!” You grab the squish from his hands and hold it against you like a child. “Instead of putting my son on blast, how about we talk about the elephant in the room.”You take a deep breath and lean against the head of your bed. Having Law here was a dream come true, but at the same time you knew he needed to go back. “Tomorrow I’ll try to figure out a way to get you back to the one piece world. I’m sure Bepo and the rest of the crew miss you.” You stood up from the bed prompting Law to follow. “In the meantime, let me give you the grand tour of my place and I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

“Lead the way.”

~~~~

“So this is my kitchen.” You show him all of your snack cabinets. “I don’t have a whole lot right now, but I’ll go shopping in the morning.” You trail off as you rummage around cabinets. “I know you hate bread, but you like grilled fish and rice balls…”

“You even know that?” Law cocks his head to the side.

“Of course I do!” As much as you want to tell him everything you know about him, you also don’t want to overwhelm the poor guy with fun facts about himself.

“Well Y/N. What’s your favorite and least favorite food?” His question catches you off guard. He wants to know?

“My favorite food is (F/F), and my least favorite is (L/F).” You make a gag sound at the mention of your least favorite food. “It’s so gross.”

“Now we are even.” You blush seeing the small smirk on his handsome face.

“I guess so.” You smile nervously. “So anyways, on to the next room."

~~~~

“You can sleep in here. It's my spare bedroom/office area.” You open the door and flip the light on, revealing the bed, computer desk and two large bookshelves filled with anime figurines. “Oh and those are here too, haha.” Please don’t walk over there.

“Thank you.” Much to your horror the pirate waltz straight over to the shelves. He picks up the figure of his pre timeskip self. “How interesting. These are pretty accurate.” He places it back on the shelf before reaching for another. “I’ll be damned.” Oh no, it’s that one. “I really am your favorite character aren’t I?” His coy smirk never faltered as he held up the shirtless figure of himself.

You turn your head away, hiding the embarrassment written all over your face. “I think that’s enough boosting your ego for one night.” You look over at the wall clock in the room and see it’s almost 2AM. I need sleep. “There is a bathroom connected to the room over there and if you need anything let me know. Goodnight Law.” You ran out of the room and to the safety of your own. How am I going to survive this?

~~~~

The next morning you woke up feeling alot better. The soreness in your muscles went away and the fatigue you felt was replaced with energy all thanks to Law.

“Wait..Was that real or did I hallucinate?” You get out of bed and walk towards your spare room. The door was cracked open just enough for you to peak inside. Shockingly you see Law standing up in the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. So it wasn’t some fever dream, he really is here. You watch as droplets of water fall from his dark hair and down his tone, tattooed back. It was mesmerizing to say the least.

But what you couldn't figure out was what he was looking at. You adjust your angle and notice what he was holding. A pang of sadness jolts in your chest, he was holding your Corazon figure.

“Is spying on someone a custom here in your world Y/N?” You freeze up thanks to him calling you out. Law puts the figure back onto the shelf and walks over to the door that he surprisingly opens all the way.

“No it’s not like that. I was just getting ready to go out and wanted to see what all you need?” Your eyes give him one rundown before you close them and look away.

“Sure that's what it was.” The familiar smell of your strawberry shampoo invades your nostrils as he leans in closer. “So tell me Y/N?” His voice was right up against your ear. “Do you prefer the real thing or the figure?” Your brain hotwires at his words.

“Unless you want me to bring back nothing but bread, I’d suggest you stop teasing me.” You take a few steps back to create some distance. I’m so not enjoying this. “I’m going to go make some breakfast before I go. Come down when you're ready.” You walk away and turn back around to get one more glance, only for him to be staring right back at you. He gave you a small smirk before shutting the door.

~~~~

“Here you go.” You give the now fully clothed Law a pen and notepad. "If you don't mind, make me a list of things you need."

“Okay.” Law sat down at the kitchen table and started to jot stuff down. “I’m not sure how sizing in this world works, so I’m just going to put my measurements down.”

“That works for me.” You grab a spatula from a drawer and close it with your hip. “I may be out for a while at the store, but I want to show you something before I leave.” Carefully you use the spatula to transfer a fried egg to a plate and paired it with some fresh cut fruit. “Breakfast is served.”

~~~~

“This is what we call a laptop. It is a device we use for multiple things, but what I want to show you is a magical but equally horrifying thing called the internet.” You place the laptop on the kitchen table “The internet is a huge database filled with all the knowledge and information you can think of.” Law leans in closer to watch you navigate the strange device. “I’ll show you the basics. First let's start off with google. It is a search engine and you can ask just about anything. For example.” You type in 'Trafalgar Law One Piece' and it pulls up his character info page.

“So that’s how you know so much about me?” He reads over the screen with an interested look on his face. “Interesting.”

“Yeah. But there is a lot more to the internet.” You click away from the page and pull up youtube. “This is where you can watch different videos. Anything from music, tv show clips, documentaries and even surgeries. You can watch it all here!” You find one of the one piece openings and play it for him. “I don’t know if I told you this or not, but Luffy is the main character.”

“Straw-hat? That figures.” He rolls his eyes and judging by his tone…..

“Are you jealous that it’s not you?” After all the teasing he’s inflicted on you, it’s time the doctor tasted his own medicine.

“No!”

“Yes you are~”

“I am NOT.”

“Are too~”

“ROOM.” The blue film engulfs your kitchen. “So remind me who’s jealous?” The devilish smirk on Law's face sent a chill down your spine.

“Certainly not you.” You stand up from the chair and inch your way to the front door. I’d rather not die today. “I guess I’ll get going, try not to miss me too much emo boy.” You grab your keys and purse before you run out the door, leaving a very confused Law behind.

The first thing Law googled by himself was “What does it mean to be an emo boy?”

~~~~

As you shop around the store you look over the list of things Law wanted. He didn’t ask for much besides clothes and a few necessities. You go to the mens clothing section and pick out a few button ups, t-shirts and some jeans. The colors and style you pick seem to match his typical color pallet and aesthetic.

You wander down the book sections of the store and come across a book titled “How to shift into a different universe.” You glance through the pages without finding any clues or hints. How did he end up here? How was it even possible? How can I help him get back? Will he ever be able to go back? Your thoughts swirl around as you think of last night. What was I doing before he showed up?

“Wait.. the text message!” You blurt out in the middle of an aisle, earning a few awkward glances from fellow customers. You mouth a “Sorry” before scurrying away with the shopping cart. For now you decide to focus on the task at hand to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. You grab the rest of his requested items and a few extra things to keep him occupied until you figure something out.

~~~~

“Law I’m home!” You kick the door open and walk into the kitchen with the grocery bags. “Want to come see what I got you.” You yell out.

“No need to yell, I’m right here.” Law pokes your shoulder causing you to yelp out. When did he get in here?

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack??” An amused chuckle leaves his lips as you slam a hand over your racing heart. “Anyways, I got you a few extra things besides what was on the list...” You pull out a mens body wash and shampoo. “I doubt you're enjoying smelling like a field of strawberries.”

“I appreciate it..” Law grabs the bottle and smells it. “I like this, but.” He looks at the label on the bottle with confusion written on his face. “Why is it called bear fighting in a snowy tundra?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You shrug and Law does too. “Welcome to my universe, Law.”

~~~~

“So the internet…” The look on Law’s face can only be described with one word. Disturbed. Oh no. “I found some very interesting things. But what stood out the most was the things you’ve googled.” You clear your throat realizing you made a rookie mistake. I didn’t delete my history before I gave him the computer. You were sweating bullets at this point. “My favorite was “Law one piece smut”, that was quite interesting~”

“Not another word from you.” You turn away from him and grab your chest in relief. At Least it wasn’t worse like ‘Law rule 34’.

“I also saw you googled ‘things to do when you feel lonely.” The playful mood in the room dies and is replaced by an awkward silence.

“Way to kill the vibes Law.” You deadpan. “But yeah I did, what about it?”

“I’ve not seen any other people here besides us, so I take you live by yourself?” You nod. “Don’t you have any family or friends?” His question opens up an old wound that you never wanted to revisit.

“Well no, not really.” Saying that stung. At one point in your life you had both, but as you grew up people grew apart. “In this universe it's normal for family and friends to grow apart. But it’s okay.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but it clearly is not okay If you look something like that up.” You know he’s right, but there’s not much you can do about it. “Doesn't it make you sad?” You go silent, unsure how to answer. “You don’t have to answer that, I apologize for overstepping.”

“No, it’s fine. But to answer that, yeah, sometimes it does make me sad.” You smile thinking of what you do when you feel down. “This is going to sound strange but when I feel sad or lonely I like to watch one piece.”

“Does it comfort you somehow?”

“It does and I know how Silly it sounds.” You let out a nervous laugh. I need to change the subject. “Anyways, do you want to watch a few episodes with me? I’m sure you're curious.”

“Sure.” Law smiles

~~~

You flip on the T.V and pull up one piece. Scrolling through the hundreds of episodes you decided to watch the Sabaody archipelago arc considering it was when Law was first introduced.

“This is very strange.” Law watches the screen while scratching his goatee. “I remember that.” Law smirks, seeing himself cut up a group of marines.

“That is one of my favorite moments.” You couldn't help but laugh. “You were such a menace pre time skip.”

“You say that like I’m not currently a menace…. “ROOM.” The blue film fills the living room. “SHAMBLES” The fuzzy blanket you were curled up with is replaced with a piece of lint. You look over and see the blanket now covering Law. “I hope you don’t mind if I take this.”

“Give me that back!” You try to pull the blanket back over but Law overpowers you. “You're such a brat.”

"First I'm a emo boy, now I'm a brat!?” You smile triumphantly seeing how his face has offended written all over it. “That’s no way to talk to your favorite character Y/N.” Time to hit him where it hurts.

“I think I changed my mind. I think Kid may take your place.” You hear a quiet, but audible gasp come from Law.

“I’ll believe that when you show me a shirtless figure of him.” He recovers quickly with a wink before turning his attention back to the tv. I can't win with this guy.

You both watch the show in a comfortable silence. Every now and then Law would point something out or add in something about a scene. You smile watching as his tattoo hands move explaining something to you. Despite Law being a little despicable, you were enjoying the comfort that came with being around him.

After hours of watching your eyes became heavy. For a few minutes you fight it wanting to stay up with Law, but you lose the battle and succumb to a much need rest.

~~~~

Law found it hilarious watching you fight the urge to fall asleep. He was about to tease until he noticed you were lightly snoring. So she fell asleep? His brow raises seeing the uncomfortable position you were in. Your head was leaned on the back of the couch and it looked like your neck was going to snap in two. Your body must have realized this, because you shifted until your head fell against Law’s leg. He oddly enough, didn't mind. He threw the blanket he stole back on your body. You subconsciously nuzzle into his thigh causing the teeniest tiniest blush to form on his cheeks.

“Enjoy your nap, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

~~~~

A few hours later you wake up disoriented and in a strange position.

“Did you enjoy your nap?” Your head whips around to see Law above you reading one of the Modern Medicine books you got him.

“I’m sorry.” You lift up from his lap and scooch back over to your side of the couch. I was sleeping in his lap!

“You weren't bothering me.” He shuts the book and places it on the coffee table. “I’m sure you didn’t get the best sleep last night considering I showed up all of a sudden.” Wait, that’s right.

“That reminds me! I think I know why you got brought here.” You grab your phone and unlock it. “Right before you showed up I got a weird text on my phone.”

“Text?” Law raises his brow.

“So this is my cell phone.” You grab your phone and hold it up. “It is this world’s equivalent to a transponder snail. You can call, video, take pictures and receive/send written messages on it.”

“How convenient.” He grabs it and sees his picture as your background. “You really are something else.” You roll your eyes.

“Stop acting like you aren’t eating it up.” You grab your phone and pry it out of his hands. “So back to what I was saying. That night I received a message saying ‘What do you wish for?’ I didn’t really think much about it, but I did say I wished you were here because I was sick.” You pull up the message and show it to him.

“It has something else written underneath it.” You lean in with Law to see the text.

“Wish will expire one week from now at midnight.” Your heart drops. It’s nice knowing you have more time left with him but you know this whole ordeal has to be a big inconvenience for him.“ I can't help but feel guilty. I pulled you away from your crew for my own selfish wish. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, my crew can handle themselves for a few days.” Law props his feet up on the coffee table. “This is like a vacation for me, plus I find this universe interesting. The medical knowledge here is very advanced and I’m sure there’s a lot I can learn.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” You stand up from the couch and head towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some dinner.”

~~~~

After reading a recipe online you made tuna filled rice balls. They ended up looking good thanks to the mold you bought that shaped them like bears. You just pray they taste good. If anything he’ll at least find them cute.

“You're no Sanji, but I’m proud of you Y/N.” You pat yourself on the back and smile seeing how adorable they turned out. “They look like Bepo.”

“They do look like him.” Law yet again sneaks up behind you, causing you to jump out of your skin.

“I’m starting to think you enjoy freaking me out.” You gave him a playful smack on the back.

“It’s becoming my favorite activity~.” He grabs one of the rice balls and takes a big bite. The look on his face was hard to read. Did he like them? “Was this your first time making them?”

“Yeah why? Are they bad?” You're mentally preparing yourself for negative feedback.

“No, they're actually really good.” He shook his head and swallowed the last bite before grabbing another one. “The rice was cooked perfectly, and the filling.. Is it tuna?”

“It is! I figured that would be a safe bet. I made sure to stay away from the umeboshi recipes.” You grab one and take a bite. They are good.

“You're a very considerate person Y/N.” Law walks over to your fridge and pulls out two bottles of water. He hands you one before sitting on the countertop. “With that being said, it’s a little unfair how much you know about me versus how little I know about you. So tell me Y/N.” You turn your attention to Law. “What makes you, you?”

“What makes me, me.. Hmm.” You lean against the countertop beside him and ponder the thought. “I’m not really sure.” Your mind went completely blank being put on the spot.

“Is that so?” Law finishes off the last rice ball and takes a drink of water. “I guess that leaves me six days to figure you out.”

#law x reader #law one piece #trafalgar law #op law #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #law x you #law x female reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #law x y/n

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thestarfishinjootsoffice · 1 year

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W: yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, disturbing actions such as kidnapping, stabbing, abuse, ooc etc+

Sorry there wasn't much "be their little girl" thing. And i just pulled whatever i could out of my ass because i absolutely did not know how to write this. I might make a better version of this in the future.

Yan! Hannibal & yan! Will x fem! Reader

What will you do?

You awokened sitting across the room as the two men who you thought you knew are talking so lovingly to each other as if they didn't have someone bound to a chair by ropes.

Your most logical instinct is to try to pry away the ropes but you knew better than that when they're right there in front of you. that would be stupid. Now the most logical thing you could do is just sit there and look pretty in order not to anger the two men considering what they're capable of.

As terrifying as it was it was quite funny as they had set up a small tea party for the three of you, although the cups were wine glasses. Calling you pet names and discussing small talk almost like acting as a family.

And looking down you realised a disturbing change of clothes. Your clothes looked similar to that of a little girl.

"Will and I have discussed our opinions of this but never thought of asking about yours, what colour of wallpaper would you like your new bedroom to be?" hannibal turned to look at you.

"I wished I would've asked you before hand so it could be a surprise but Will thought it would be rather be a peculiar question for you."

You glanced at Will who has a smile on his face and waits for your answer.

"... Uhm.. (C/N-"

"(C/N)?"

"see I told you!" Will's small laughter almost makes you forget the whole situation. Hannibal takes a sip from his glass, he has a slight look of defeat but smiles.

"well then, (C/N) it is."

You don't know why you were so calm, was it because the whole situation seemed so light hearted? But you didn't want to be here atleast you knew that and they did too.

You don't even know where to begin to start planning for an escape, you subtly positioned yourself in a way you'll feel the items in your pockets but you felt none in either of them. They kept asking questions in order to keep the awkward silence at bay, you didn't find the energy to answer them.

"Y/n, you haven't taken a bite out of your food, why's that?" hannibal asked you, almost tauntingly. Where would you find the need to eat in a time like this? Will looks a bit guilty.

They both know what you're thinking, that look on your face says it all. They're not delusional and you're not sure if it's bad or good, but they'll try anyway.

"try it, it's gonna get cold." Will smiles one more time to convince you.

You weren't in the mood nor have an appetite for this but you certainly didn't want an upset Hannibal near you. Forcing yourself to chew down the piece of food Will has fed you, it wasn't dry. It had flavor and juice but it didn't quench the dryness of the inside of your throat.

Despite the piece of meat having a soft texture, you found it difficult to swallow.

Just as Will was about to ask a question to break the silence, you found yourself unconsciously building up the courage to go and ask a question.

"why am I here?"

The already thick tension now doubled now suffocating probably all three of you at the same time. Should they just say it? Would it be a good idea to tell you it's basically a forced adoption? You looked at them. Cautiously but swiftly grabbing one of the sharp silverware placed near your plate of food with your free forearm. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, terrified they were going to hear it.

Hannibal proceeded to look at you and ask, "why are you so scared y/n?"

He probably smelt the fear and sweat in your body. At this Will stood up "can we talk privately?" Hannibal complied and moved to the kitchen.

It was a stupid decision but all you were more concerned about was getting the fuck out of here. You used this opportunity to cut the ropes around your elbows, and the ones on your ankles. It was cliché but you were glad it was.

You were about to burst tears of joy when you successfully sliced off the last rope. Your wrist was hurting from the constantly pressure and movement but you couldn't care less. Your heart dropped down to the floor when you heard their voices getting closer, you wasted not a single second and went sprinting straight to the front door.

Will and Hannibal became highly alert when they heard the dashing of footsteps. And to their horror, finding your seat empty.

Will ran after you but Hannibal stayed behind. Looking calmly at your seat and the missing utensil. Then he started walking to where you were.

You were running as fast as you could've but your body started feeling heavy and light at the same time. At the worst possible time. Until you couldn't even stand straight anymore. And you felt the frightening hands of Will.

"Y/n what were you thinking!?"

Will tried to drag you away and out of panic you pulled the knife from your pocket and rammed it into his hand. As Will yelled out in pain you heard Hannibal call out Will's name in concern.

You were absolutely scared shitless now. If you get caught you know they are not going to go easy. Adrenaline was rushing inside you but your body couldn't keep up for some reason. You were right in front of the door when a hand wrapped around your mouth and arm, ultimately stopping you so. This was it, you couldn't help but let a tear drop fall down.

"I don't like rude people. And i definitely do not like a rude brat."

You were struggling to pry yourself off of the man's grip, the hand on your mouth was removed but before you could make a noise, your vision blacked out.

When you awoke, you were greeted with the sight of an angry Hannibal and Will. That was the day and night you were the most emotionally and psychologically fucked up. Hannibal only held back because Will told him if was enough.

You never even thought of escaping again. That's okay, just behave like a good daughter and maybe Hannibal might be even nice enough to remove that memory from you.

#bruh this sucked so bad #nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #yandere hannibal #yandere hannibal x reader #Yandere will graham #yandere will #yandere will graham x reader #slashers #will graham kin #mads mikkelsen hannibal #hannibal lecter x child! reader (platonic)#will graham x child! reader (platonic)#idk what to label this actually

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geordikisser · 3 months

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PART 1 : pregame: the smash tournament !

☆ a/n: gender neutral language, suggestive language, a sprinkle of implied family problems & domestic life ☆

pairings : david + angel, milo + sweetheart, asher + baaabe & sam + darlin’ [ different povs for each ]

asher stands in the other room setting up the names. babe is in the kitchen bundling up snacks with angel as they gossp. “he’s so fine like, he may be stupid,,” babe starts. “& ugly, won’t take his uniform magical practices class & a man.” angel ‘mentions’ as the other falls silent. “ok. what about ur little puppy then, hm?” babe snorts.

angel let’s out a laugh. “he’s been behaving.” angel starts. “he knows better now than to do something stupid now,,, unless he wanted a one way trip to the man upstairs.” they laugh in unison. “you’re naughty!” babe cries as angel snickers. “oh please.”

david smiles to himself as he hears them getting along. “darlin’, why don’t you go talk with them?” sam smiles at them, shortly being met with a sigh. “,,oh? no—,, uhm i’m comfy here,,,” you chuckle awkwardly. “they’ve always been a bit awkward despite their bright and colorful nature.” milo rolls his eyes. “yeah yeah, better than whatever you did when we were kids. shortshit.” darlin’ mumbles quickly under their breath, earning a laugh from milo. “yup. there’s that short temper from when we were kids.” david smirks to himself.

sweetheart was walking around the place honestly. they went to the bathroom but decided to take a side quest,,, milo didn’t question it, everytime he did— it was followed up with a earful on, “why are you in my business” with the bathroom so he knew better than to inquire,,,

darlin’ leans onto sam as they pull out their phone and samuel gets a glimpse of their homescreen. “hey— you changed your wallpaper?” sam whispers to them. “o-oh. yeah i did,,, do you like it?” it was a photo of sam and them at the solstice together for the first time with those ridiculous (according to sam) filters. hearts around it and the their anniversary date in the bottom.

sam analyzes these details and a small blush appears onto his pale skin. “but your old one? it was—“ “yeah. it was me and my sibling as kids,” darlin’ turns off their phone and looks up at sam. “but i have better things to want for now. like you,,” they smile softly at him. sadness haunts their eyes ever since quinn and the inversion & samuel wishes he could read why.

babe comes out with the snacks and a grin. “here’s the snacks everyone! ^_^” they exclaim. “someone’s chipper.” david raises his brow as he grabs some grapes. “excited to kick ass in this tournament, mr. shaw.” they smirk cockily. “that’s my babe! smack that talk!!” asher calls from the other room.

sweetheart finds their way into the kitchen hungry as HAIL! “hey, the food out yet?” they ask. angel nods. “yup, mind helping with the drinks?” angel asks with a smile as sweetheart smirks. “i have a better idea.” they take a step backwards and next thing you know it, angel hears a scream come from milo in the living room.

angel lets out a giggle as they walk out to the living room with all the drinks. placing the drinks down onto the coffee table and promptly taking a seat on the couch on their designated spot besides david. “ hey angel,,,” david smiles softly. “can i get a kiss?” he whispers as angel obliges with a sweet smile on their face.

darlin’s grip began to tighten on sam as they sigh, snuggling closely to him. sam looks over them with a smile. “getting comfy,,?” he gently caresses their arm as he pulls them closer as well. “i love you sam,,,,” they coo softly as they close their eyes within the embrace. “i love you more darlin’ forever and always” he kisses their forehead as he leans back into their touch as well. a smile creeping onto darlin’s face.

“so yall tryna play rock paper scissors or what” babe snickers as angel and sweetheart burst into laughter. “that wasn’t even that funny yall are so fake.” babe huffs as angel throws a pillow at them. “oh stop we laughed don’t play.”

“jesus sweetheart!” milo exclaims as his partner has practically eaten the entire snack tray. “when i come out there, there better be some sandwiches left!” asher calls out as everyone went silent. “:D soooo.” sweetheart puts the tray down. “what do we do.” they clear their throat.

“bro you ate it all not us,,, 😭” angel begins to cackle. “big and greedy ass bro oh my god.” babe puts their head in their hands and starts laughing and falls over. “oh fuck you!! stop laughing and help me!!” sweetheart whines as milo begins laughing too. “milo!!” they growl at their stupid werewolf bf.

“maybe we can make a quick stop at subway,,,” darlin’ suggests as they get up. sweetheart cheers. “late night shop and stop!! hooray!” sweetheart zips to darlin’. “i’ll get your bag!” they squeak as they nod. “and my coat please!” darlin’ calls. “so who’s driving?” babe asked as they stretch up. “driving? baby i’m a werewolf.” darlin’ snickers.

babes eyes widen with a glow in them. “WE’RE GONNA RIDE YOU??” they exclaimed excitedly. everyone fell silent to that statement. “what.” david’s brows furrowed at the statement. “ok guys man up.” earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

#redacted asmr #redacted asher #redacted milo #redacted david #redacted sam #redacted babe #redacted sweetheart #redacted angel #redacted darlin #redactedverse #redacted headcanons

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veemunson86 · 3 months

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I see you everywhere

Pt 3, love of my life.

Series masterlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

it was Steve's idea, to write a letter to Eddie and burn it. you thought it was cheesy but decided to give it a shot. the heavy weight your heart felt for him ached more and more every day which was causing unwanted stress. going into the 8th month of your pregnancy began to become unbarable without him. all you wanted was to feel him holding you late at night, but he couldn't, and that alone was a crushing feeling. at first you thought it was a horrible idea, but when you were missing him extra one day, you finally found the right words.

" my dearest eddie, today marks almost 8 months since you left me. it still hasn't gotten any easier. everyone says it gets better, but when? i miss you like crazy. i still wear your ring, but its too big for my hand so i have it on a chain i swear around my neck. i wonder what our wedding would have been like. i wonder how you would have raised our beautiful baby girl, would you have played her music to help her sleep? everywhere i go, its like you're here with me. i see you everywhere around the house that would have been ours. i wake up to what would have been the side of your bed, and its like sometimes i envision youre laying next to me... your hair a big frizzy mess. i find myself doing that a lot, thinking youre here with me, that maybe, just maybe you'll come back to me. but you wont, and that's when i snap back into reality. you're gone. its still hard to say out loud. our baby is growing so fast. she has a strong heartbeat. i remember when i would lay my head on your chest when we would be on the couch, or laying in bed. it was my favorite thing to listen to. that day when i held you, i felt your heart slowly give out, and a part of mine died with you that day. everyone here says ive changed, and the truth is i have. the y/n i was died when you did, now I'm just the shell of the girl i once was. the shell of a girl who lost the one person she truly loved. but i wanna change, that's why in writing this. i wanna change for our girl. i wanna be the best version of myself i can, for her. it scares my thinking about having to do this alone, but i know I'm not alone. i have the kids, and steve, nancy and robin to help. they go with me to every appointment. i know she is gonna be so loved by them, and that makes me happy. i decided on a name. remember when we talked about a family of our own one day? we wrote down names that we would want for our kids. i found that notebook when i moved your stuff in here. our house. just like we wanted. 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom. big backyard, with a small swimming pool. it wasn't easy, but i had help. my parents and your uncle helped me until i could get up on my feet. i moved your stuff here, part of my thinks youre gonna show up one day. our bedroom is perfect. we both have a nightstand, i have pictures of us together o your side. i know it all sounds stupid, but its comforting. i have a few of your shirts in the closet, they still smell like you. i always loved that smell, like cinnamon and weed. it makes it feel like youre still here. i open up our closet and that's the first thing i smell, it smells like home. like you. i picked our girls name, i decided on Amelia. shes gonna have your last name. i set up her nursery with the help of steve, dustin, and max. her little room is adorable. i have a light pink crib, and above it there is her name smelled out in wooden letters. there is little ducks on the wallpaper, as when i went through my first nesting phase i didnt know the gender yet. there is a fuzzy white rug right by her crib, and a rocking chair so i can feed her in there. i wish you could be here to see it, but alas, youre not. so i guess this is my final goodbye to you. steve said writing this and burning it would give me piece of mind, and i think hes right. so goodbye my love, i will love you forever, please watch over me and our baby. i love you."

and with that, you folded the paper in half, throwing it in the fireplace, watching as it slowly turned to ash.

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gravedigginbbydoll · 1 year

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pencil shavings and shared smiles {pt.2}

Fem! Teacher Reader x Teacher! Eddie

Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I’m honestly so grateful to find people who enjoy my writing :) This started as a bit of fun aside from my current WIP that I’m DETERMINED to not immediately trash, so I wanted to practice some writing on the side, and hey, it’s been a while since I’ve done fanfiction (like, over 6 years…. I think my last fanfic was at age 16! I'm now 23.) so I figured why not? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next bit (I’ll be honest, I was struggling with it, but the next chapters will be better, I swear!) I don’t have an exact plan for how many parts this will be, but I’m excited to see where it’s headed!

WARNINGS AND CONTENT: Minors DNI!!!, Noncanon, Hawkins AU, Normal Hawkins, Rumors about Eddie, Eventual Smut, Very fluffy, Outcasts and Bullying, Mentions of Loneliness, Flirting, Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, older! Eddie, short-haired Eddie, 1995/1996 Hawkins, F! Reader has a dark past, angst.

Summary: You settle into Hawkins, looking for a way to spruce up your place, and bump into a familiar face. You maybe even meet some new friends. Things are looking up.

The next few days following your encounter with Eddie, you throw yourself into trying to get settled in and getting to know the town. You had been there for a few days before coming to the school but still had boxes piled high and needed some items.

You focused on moving all the boxes into their designated spaces. But then, you realized you didn’t have much when it came down to it. You had work clothes, plates and bowls, cutlery, basic toiletries, cleaning supplies, and three makeup items.

In your rush to leave the city, you left so much behind you hadn’t realized. As a result, your apartment looks abandoned in its barren state, and the hideous peeling pink floral wallpaper from the 70s makes your skin crawl.

That’s what led you to this moment. A shopping spree throughout Hawkins. You’re determined to make the “blink, and you miss it” town feel cozy and like home. It is home now, after all. Though you may need a blanket to cover the ugly cracked green leather couch that came with the place.

You’re piling up blankets, knick-knacks, and even plants to busy the place. By the time you get to the antique store, you’re sure you’ve burned a hole in your savings. You look around, admiring old furniture with history you wish you knew. You see a large wooden bookshelf, probably older than you, and bite your lip, picturing the perfect reading nook in your large window, a chair with too many pillows, and a table to set your favorite cup of coffee on. You did just buy some new mugs, after all.

In your daydreaming, you barely notice the presence creeping toward you.

“As lovely as that little vintage piece is, I heard it’s haunted.”

You jump a bit, startled by the sudden speaking. When you turn, you feel that familiar creeping of heat across your skin, your stomach twists with nerves while your heart thumps a loud, steady beat. Eddie. He’s wearing a super distressed band shirt with the sleeves cut off, his slightly muscular inked biceps on display. Your thighs tighten at the display, and you mentally scold yourself.

Now is not the time! Get a hold of yourself.

His brown eyes twinkle with mischief as he tilts his head at you, sticking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. You are instantly reminded of a puppy and feel your insides practically melt. Your heart is thumping embarrassingly loud. You hope to god the cute metalhead in front of you doesn’t somehow have super senses.

“You redecorating?”

You shrug, a shy smile gracing your lips. “You could say that, I guess.”

He nods and looks back at the bookcase with intrigue. His expression is thoughtful yet almost solemn as he speaks softly, his words barely reaching you. “Seriously though, that bookcase is bad luck. Belonged to a notorious killer. Henry Creel. Killed his whole family when he was like 9.”

You feel a chill go up your spine, the sense of fear deep in your belly. But, of course, you knew the old trope of sleepy towns never really being sleepy. Still, the last thing you would’ve guessed to happen in Hawkins was premeditated murder. You peek over at Eddie, who looks at you; his eyes are almost sorrowful as he rubs your shoulder comfortingly. You feel an electric current shoot through you at his touch, and goosebumps shoot up your neck. A flutter in your stomach reminds you that you are far too emotional about this man, despite barely knowing him.

“Sorry,” He rasps. “I sometimes ramble and forget what I’m saying. I didn’t mean to spook you. It was ages ago. He’s in jail now.” He pulls away his warm touch, and you almost find yourself leaning back for more.

You shake your head. “It’s fine. Everyone has skeletons in the closet, don’t they?” You remark jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Eddie’s eyes don’t sparkle as they usually do, and he looks a bit more guarded as he smiles softly. “Yeah.”

You feel a tug at your heart and remember the encounter between the grouchy bookstore owner and Eddie. It’s clear he has a past, but you won’t bring it up. After all, you’re the last person who should be digging through someone’s history.

“Hey, so a few friends and I are headed to a bar called The Hideout; tonight to bid adieu to summer. I was just wondering…if you’d like to join?” Eddie says shyly, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flush. “Of course, I understand if not; I just figured since you’re new here, it may help you get more acclimated and maybe even meet some people-”

You cut off his rambling with a hand, your lips fighting the urge to smile so vast your jaw may break. “Eddie, I’d love to. What time?”

He grins, his signature dimples appearing and making your stomach flutter. “Great. Around 7 pm tonight. First drink on me.”

You feel your cheeks heat once again as you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Can’t wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later on in the evening, you are stressed and pacing. You remember dancing and singing to calm anxiety as a young teen and get the bright idea to turn on the radio to your favorite rock station.

Now, you're dancing around your living room as You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrisette plays on your radio. You’re dressed in a black slip dress, the satin fabric accentuating your figure. Maybe you’re dressed a little too nice for a bar. Who cares? Dr. Martens on your feet create a more casual look but also possibly causes a noise complaint from your neighbors as you stomp and sing, applying makeup.

“AND I’M HERE! TO REMIND YOU! OF THE MESS YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WENT AWAY!”

You scream into your hairbrush, jumping around.

The singing calms your nerves a bit, and by the end of the song, you’re panting and thinking maybe you should try to hit the gym more.

You glance at the clock and realize the time is flashing a red and angry 7:30 pm.

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” You scramble, tripping over your feet, quickly putting on earrings and a choker, trying to rush out the door.

Fucking Alanis Morissette.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at the bar, hoping to pass off as fashionably late. You look around before spotting Eddie, his back to you in a well-loved leather jacket. He’s at a booth with some friends, a dark stout in his hand.

You tremble slightly as you walk over, your body thrumming with nervousness, and tap him on the shoulder. He turns, lighting up the minute he sees you. “Hey! You made it! Come on and sit down.”

You feel embarrassment sink into your skin, hands nervously fiddling as you sit beside him. He introduces the rest of the table, practically making your head spin. There’s Nancy, a petite and beautiful brunette who works as a Chief Editor for the local paper. Steve, a handsome man with an impressive head of hair, works as a coach at Hawkins Middle and High Schools. Robin a talkative and nervous blonde who works as a band teacher at Hawkins High. According to Eddie, this wasn’t everyone in their circle, just the ones he could fit in a booth. You laugh, nerves wracking your stomach as you hope to make a good impression.

A few minutes in, you’re laughing and practically snorting at a story Steve is telling about Eddie accidentally flashing everyone in a Romeo and Juliet drama production, where he insisted to the drama teacher that they swap the actors and actresses. Eddie had been playing a side character, a plain maiden, when he tripped over his dress and - “Absolutely ate shit! He landed with his head between his legs, and everyone could see his Garfield boxers!”

You can’t stop laughing at the image of a smaller and younger Eddie, his loud personality causing so much chaos on the stage. You were glad he had gone to buy your drink, seeing as you had laughed so hard you were sure tears had fallen from your eyes. You wiped your eyes and sighed, taking a breath in.

Eddie returned at that exact moment with your drink, settling it down while playfully glaring at Steve. “Harrington, you better not be talking shit.”

Steve flicks a paper straw wrapper at Eddie and scoffs. “Can it, Munson. I could kick your ass any day.”

Eddie immediately leaps into action and pulls Steve into a headlock, tousling his hair while laughing. Steve yells, trying to fight off the taller man and protect his hair. Robin laughs and rolls her eyes while Nancy softly smiles, shaking her head.

“Knock it off, you two. You’re letting on that you’re both children way too early. I need new friends,” Robin whines, covering her face in embarrassment.

You feel sheepish, smiling. You’re not used to the attention. Not this much, anyway. But you’re having fun. Eddie’s friends are vibrant, loud, and the most genuine people you’ve ever met.

Eddie lets Steve go, Steve grumbling about his hair and sitting back next to Robin, who smirks at him while she messes his hair up even more. Eddie then takes his spot next to you, sliding in, and due to the small booth, your thighs touch. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping across your insides from the alcohol and Eddie’s clothed leg pressing against yours, which is bare. You ignore the heat pooling between your thighs at the contact and the ever-so-sinful thoughts about his ringed and masculine hands.

Eddie leans over to you, his blinding grin causing your stomach to join in on the anatomy shuffle currently happening in your body, fluttering to the point that you think you may have swallowed a bird.

“Sorry if we’re a bit much. But, now you’ll have a few familiar faces, right?”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. Thanks, Eddie.”

He nods, and you almost swear you see his eyes dart toward your lips before he turns back towards the group, all arguing about what the next movie night should be. You feel your heart skip a beat. You can’t help but be grateful for this introduction and even the awkwardness it brought. You now felt a little less of a stranger in Hawkins. A sense of relief rushes through you. Maybe, things won’t have to be so lonely.

Eddie interrupts your thoughts once more when he leans over towards you. You almost feel drunk on the scent of tobacco, vanilla, rum, and something spicy like cloves and cinnamon. Your thighs tighten, and you curse your brain for instantly thinking dirty thoughts. You’re in no state to have a physical or romantic relationship. Your throat tightens as you push down the ideas and look at Eddie.

“Hey, so we're goin' to hang out at the Palace Arcade. It’s usually super packed, but tonight they’re having a party there, so no one under 21. You wanna join?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and something you may be misreading as hope.

You bite your lip, thinking that maybe you’re too deep and should head to the comfort and quiet of home. You haven’t been to an arcade in years. Much less a party. Sour memories threaten to come up, but you push them down and set your resolve. You are just a woman in her mid-twenties trying to have fun. You deserve that, at least. Even if it’s really a lie.

You smile at Eddie, nodding. “Sure, I’ll tag along. I haven’t been to an arcade in years.”

Eddie grins, his dimples flashing. “Great. You can meet the band.”

You perk up, looking at Eddie quizzically. “Band?”

He nods but puts his finger to his lips and winks, signifying it’s a secret. You furrow your brows and feel your stomach flutter as the ever prominent question wracks your brain again.

Who the hell is this man?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @bebe07011 @corrodedcoffincumslut @kurdtbean @nerdflash

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x y/n #pencils shavings and shared smiles #teacher! eddie #teacher! em #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #eddie munson au

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kittenofdoomage · 4 months

Text

Midnight

Summary: New Year’s Eve brings a surprise at the end of a crappy year.

Pairing: female!reader (Y/N) x unnamed male

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: angst, mentions of break ups of long term relationships, anxiety, fluff, masked dances, semi-public smut, some mild breaking and entering, fingering, full vaginal sex, some mild feelings of unhappiness

A/N: This is another one of those "pick your character" fics that I can't really post on Ao3, so I'm posting here to wish you all a very happy new year. I hope everyone has a peaceful and blessed 2024, and that the fall of the patriarchy/death of capitalism finally comes to fruition. Enjoy!

Originally, her plan for New Year’s Eve had involved a family-size bag of Doritos and whatever movies she could find on Netflix. She had no work for the next week, no boyfriend since Andrew had dumped her in the summer, and when Dee had surprised her with a ticket to the annual city New Year’s Masquerade Ball, she had ultimately failed to provide an excuse good enough to turn it down.

“All of us are going,” Dee had informed her excitedly, making sure Y/N had no wiggle room. “I’ll help you find a dress, we’ve got a huge car booked -”

“Okay, okay,” Y/N smiled, internally dying at the thought of an evening around strangers, even ones in masks. “I’m in.”

Maybe it would do her some good. Since the end of her relationship, she’d been unable to summon enthusiasm for anything, and she had to admit, shopping for a dress and giggling over imagined possible events at the ball with her friends was more fun than she had had in a while. She hadn’t realized just how stale her life had become, even before Andrew broke up with her.

The downside to the evening presented itself with the understanding that she would very much be the proverbial fifth wheel. Dee and Jenny both had dates for the night in the form of their long term partners, David and Leanne, respectively. Still, they assured her that they wouldn’t ignore her in favor of their company - Leanne had even offered up a blind date, but Y/N quickly turned her down, politely, because although she didn’t want to seem ungrateful, she didn’t think it would make her evening any more enjoyable. It would probably have had the opposite effect.

New Year’s Eve rolled around faster than she wanted it to, despite her excitement for the party. She started preparing ridiculously early, and by the time her cab arrived to take her to Dee’s, she was trembling with nerves. Her friends didn’t make it any better when she got there, chatting excitedly, making her feel like she’d be wallpaper the entire night. Still, she smiled and nodded along, following quietly when the car arrived to take them to the hotel downtown.

The Masquerade Ball was held in the same place every year. It wasn’t exclusive, but it was limited, another reason Y/N had been reluctant to turn down the ticket. They arrived in plenty of time to join the queue, and the chilly evening had her wishing she’d brought more than her light jacket. She shuddered in silence, keeping up with Dee as they shuffled closer to their destination, feeling more and more underdressed in her simple unembellished evening gown as she took in the stunning dresses and tuxedos everyone else was wearing. Of course, she couldn’t see anyone's faces, which made it marginally better, but she still felt underwhelming in comparison.

They made it inside within thirty minutes, accepting direction to their table in the grand ballroom several floors up. It was busy, and loud, and the dancefloor was already bustling with bodies grinding together to the late nineties pop tune that was currently playing. The ticket had stated a mixture of classical and popular music, with opportunities for “proper” dancing. Around the room there were several booths, the capitalist side of the event, and as the group seated themselves at the table, Jenny grabbed Y/N’s hand and pointed toward one booth at the back of the room.

“Look, they’re doing the Dance Card stall this year!”

Y/N scrunched up her face. “What’s that?”

“It’s like a game, people can sign up and get matched with a dance partner for a song. You can do it as many times as you like.”

“So it’s like Speed Dating?” Leanne asked, pulling a similar face to Y/N.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N giggled, shaking her head at the thought of getting up close and personal with a stranger. “I just wanna enjoy the party.”

Dee leaned into her, smiling. “I’ll dance with you, baby girl, don’t worry.”

The ballroom was filling quickly, and for the first part of the evening, Y/N stayed with the group, chatting over the music and drinking. Occasionally, Leanne would drag Jenny off to dance, or Dee would make David, but they never left her alone, something she was grateful for. She shared a dance with Dee, but quickly found the crowd overwhelming, so she remained at the table while the others took turns in dancing.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try the dance card thing?” Jenny asked, leaning in as Dee pulled her boyfriend from the table. “Just once?”

Y/N looked over at the booth again, ready to deny it, then her gaze caught on one figure that seemed to stand out from the crowd. He was standing off to the side of the booth, leaning against the wall, a full glass in one hand with the other in his pocket, and she was certain he was looking right back at her. There was something familiar about him, not that there was anything extraordinary that would have made him stand out in the first place. The tuxedo he wore was the same as a dozen others she’d seen, and he was wearing the standard mask they were handing out on the door for those who forgot or didn’t have one.

“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it,” Jenny giggled, touching her forearm and bringing her attention back to the table. When she looked over at the booth again, the man was gone, and disappointment settled into her stomach.

“I’m not,” she assured her friend. “I thought - nevermind.”

Her mind was already wandering as Leanne distracted her girlfriend from badgering her. It couldn’t have been him, even if her gut was telling her it was. He wouldn’t be in the city, let alone at the same party she was at, it was impossible. The one that got away had gone away permanently, a long time before Andrew was even a blip on her radar, and it was just wistful thinking making some random stranger look like him.

Dee returned, breathless from her dance, though David didn’t return with her. “He’s getting more drinks,” she explained as Jenny asked where he went. The two other women took their turn to go and dance, and Y/N drew back into herself a little, realizing they were spending their time keeping her company when they should have been enjoying themselves.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, looking at Dee, who blinked in confusion.

“For what?”

“You’re -” Y/N gestured wildly. “Looking after me, like usual. I’m a buzzkill.”

Her friend laughed. “Honey, do I look like my buzz has been killed? I can’t dance to every single song anyways, I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“You’re sure?”

Sighing, Dee leaned in, covering Y/N’s hand with her own. “You need this,” she insisted. “Since Douchebag McDouche left you - yahoo, by the way - you’ve been in a slump. And I hate seeing you miserable.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled, sagging in her seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so… boring.”

“You’re not boring,” Dee replied, squeezing your hand. “You just need to rediscover yourself a little.” She picked up her almost empty drink, draining the last of it. “You could always try the dance card thing. Maybe you’ll find someone to kiss at midnight. Even if it’s just for midnight.”

The idea was less than appealing but Y/N looked in that direction anyway, just in case the mystery man was there again. When he wasn’t, and she sighed, Dee frowned.

“Not up for it?”

“It’s not that,” Y/N murmured, wary of their companions returning. “Do you remember after college, there was that guy -”

“I got fresh drinks for everyone!” David announced, arriving back at the table with a tray in his hands. Instantly, Y/N fell silent, and Dee quickly realized she wouldn’t be getting anything more out of her. “Another rum, Y/N?” David asked, handing her a drink regardless of her answer.

She got to her feet with a forced smile. “Actually, I’m going to find the ladies room,” she informed both of them, stepping away and waving off Dee’s almost immediate offer to join her. The crowd wasn’t as dense as it looked, and she easily found her way to the lobby, following the posted signs for the restrooms. There was a queue that she quickly joined, pulling her phone from her purse, scrolling through her Twitter feed to pass the time.

Someone across the lobby yelled, which made everyone look that way to see a gentleman being forcefully exited by security. Y/N watched along with them, and as the scene died down, she went to turn her attention back to her phone, only to see him again. This time he was at the other side of the lobby, standing with a group of people, and when he caught her eye, he smiled, raising his drink a little in her direction. She froze in surprise, staring back, and it took the woman behind her in the queue jostling her to get her to look away.

He was gone again when she glanced back, but the queue was moving too quickly for her to do anything. Her heart was in her throat as she rushed to be done in the restroom, scanning the crowd the second that she was out in the lobby again, finding the group he was with gone and him with them. It was stupid how disappointed she was, when she wasn’t even sure if it was who she thought it was or even if it was the same person.

For all she knew, she was going crazy.

“Idiot,” she muttered to herself, heading back into the ballroom to find the table again. None of her friends were there, all busy on the dancefloor, and her stomach dropped, anxiety rushing in at her. “What am I doing?” she whispered, certain she was going to cry.

“You look a little lost,” said a man from behind her, in a voice she recognized even after all this time.

“Yes, well,” she replied, keeping her gaze on the dancefloor in case she was imagining him. “These things are more for couples, aren’t they?”

He laughed, and her insides churned with a need to see his face, to make sure it was really him, because she felt like it was a dream. She still remembered the last time she’d seen him, just the back of his head as he left, taking her whole heart with him even if he didn’t know it. “I suppose so,” he agreed, and a hand brushed the small of her back, making her inhale sharply. “Would you like to dance?”

Why was he here? How? What was happening?

She nodded, holding her questions in as he took her hand to lead her to the dancefloor, just as a slower classical number came on. Finally, she turned her head, disappointed that the mask covered his face, but recognizing his features underneath. Her heart soared, nerves gathering as butterflies in her stomach, and she couldn’t help but smile through her mask at him. He smiled back, pulling her closer as they reached a spot with enough room not to feel cramped.

Neither of them spoke. Her desire to know where he had been, why he was there, was held at bay by the simple comfort of just being in his arms. He was still fond of the same aftershave by the scent clinging to his clothes, and his hair was slightly different, but otherwise he was exactly as she remembered, and she couldn’t help leaning in to rest her cheek against his shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. Across the dancefloor, she met Dee’s confused gaze from where she was dancing with David, recognizable by her hair, and Y/N smiled at her so she knew everything was okay.

“You look just as beautiful as the last time I saw you,” he murmured, making her lift her head to look at him. “Can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“How can you tell that I look the same?” she asked playfully. “I’m wearing a mask.”

He chuckled. “I just know,” he shrugged, smirking at her.

“You’re still just as big,” she said shyly. “Your hair is different.” The music picked up speed a little, transitioning to a faster beat, and Y/N frowned as couples around them started to get a little showy with their movements. “I don’t think I like this song,” she joked.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he agreed, stepping back and taking her hand again.

As they moved through the crowd, they passed Dee, who stared at the man with her in shock, recognizing him, and mouthing a “is that who I think it is” while pointing at him. Y/N nodded, not stopping to explain as he led her into the lobby and towards a fire exit. “Wait,” she hissed, “where are we going? It’s gonna be midnight soon.”

He glanced back with a grin. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “No one’s up there.”

The there he was referring to escaped her, but she had always trusted him, and she had no reason not to now. With a nod, she followed him through the fire exit, into the stairwell and away from the noise. He started to climb the steps, looking back to make sure she was with him, and on the next floor, they entered a larger, empty room that was only lit by a few lamps.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“A lounge,” he replied. “There’s a balcony we can watch the fireworks from.”

“Won’t someone catch us?”

His eyes sparkled behind the mask. “Only if we’re not quiet.”

The balcony was separated from the room by large doors that weren’t locked. Y/N followed him out into the night, feeling her breath get snatched away by the view of the city. There was a balcony on the ballroom floor too, and she could hear the music below and the chattering of people on the balcony. She pulled away from him to approach the stone ledge, unsure she’d ever seen anywhere look so pretty.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

He was behind her, one hand on her hip as he pressed into her, burying his nose in her hair. “Isn’t it?” he mumbled, though she wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing.

“You’re really here,” she turned to look up at him, “after all these years, you came back.”

“It would have been sooner. But… things happened. And when I came back to see you, you always seemed happy with someone. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Guilt made her insides churn because she hadn’t been, not really. Enough to fool herself, enough to hurt herself, maybe, but she’d always known what had slipped through her fingers. “And now? How did you know I’d be here?”

His cheeks darkened. “Dee posted a picture of you guys getting ready,” he explained, a little sheepishly. “I pulled some strings. This is not actually my tux.”

“You know,” she whispered, “I had a pretty crappy year.”

“Me too.”

Lifting a hand, she pressed it to his cheek. He leaned into it, covering her hand with his own. “I never thought I’d see you again. This feels like a dream.”

“It’s not,” he replied softly. “Lemme prove it.”

She wasn’t quite expecting him to kiss her but after the split second of shock, she melted into it, wrapping her arms around his neck as his tongue slipped between her lips. The action made her moan, and he groaned in reply, clutching at her like she might disappear. When they broke apart, she felt almost high, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“We never had a chance to do that before,” she gasped breathlessly. His fingers were digging into her hips, pulling her body flush with his, and she could feel his erection through the fabric of his pants. Her body reacted with a rush of warmth between her thighs, and before she could stop herself, a lustful whine tore itself from her lips.

His gaze grew hungrier. “There’s a lot of things we never had a chance to do,” he practically growled, voice so low that she shuddered in his hold.

“There’s no one here,” she said abruptly, surprised at her own words.

Her dress was already bunching in his hands as he tugged it up. “Tell me to stop,” he grunted as he pulled the fabric higher, pressing his mouth to hers in a desperate, quick kiss. “Tell me to stop and I can wait, I promise -”

She stopped him with a deeper kiss, rubbing her hand against the bulge in his pants. “I can’t,” she whimpered.

He turned her, pulling her back against him. “You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, pulling her dress up again until it was bunched over her ass, pinning it there with his body. Sliding a hand underneath the fabric still covering her front, he rubbed his fingertips over her mound, pressing his lips to her throat. “Are you wet?”

Her answer wouldn’t come out as she struggled to process what was happening. He chuckled, working his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties, finding the answer himself when he stroked her slit. She moaned, throwing her head back against his shoulder, rubbing herself into his erection.

Two thick fingers spread her open, sinking into her with ease, and she yelped, lurching forward. The roar of the party below became clearer as she caught herself on the balcony edge. “Someone could hear,” she panted, unable to stop her hips from rocking into the same rhythm as his fingers. “They’re right below us -”

“Guess you’ll have to try and be quiet,” he replied with a low chuckle. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”

She nodded, gasping as the heel of his palm ground into her clit, thick fingers still thrusting inside her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and a breathy groan made her shudder and push back against him. The consistent stimulation was making her head swim; her eyes fluttered shut and her hands tightened on the stone balcony.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked. She whimpered, nodding when she couldn’t make herself speak, and he laughed again, working his fingers a little harder until the tremble that had started in her knees seized her whole body. Her cunt clenched around the intrusion, the sound of her wetness reaching her over the party noises below them, and finally, she cried out once, covering her own mouth as she shuddered around him.

His hand withdrew, leaving her bereft. She gulped down air in her brief reprieve, then inhaled sharply as his hot and heavy cock landed against her exposed bottom. He didn’t wait, thumbing the tip down until it slotted between her thighs, rubbing right against her sensitive labia. The hunger for more returned, and she tilted her hips, allowing his thick head to find its target, and she arched as each inch filled her until she could feel the soft fabric of his pants pressed against her ass. Only when he was fully sheathed did he stop, dropping his lips to the bare curve of her shoulder with a tiny, contented sigh.

“Only ever dreamed of this,” he whispered, grinding deep inside her. “Feeling you wrapped around me -” He sighed again, the same happy little noise. “Fuck -”

She whimpered his name when he pulled back to sink home again with his hands grasping her hips tightly. His height forced her to lift slightly, but he quickly bent his knees, enabling him to drive into her a little harder, forcing a squeak from her lips when he bottomed out again.

“Listen,” he grunted, leaning in close, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Below them, the crowd was chanting, and it sounded like the whole city was too. Her lover started to count with them, slamming into her hard enough to punch the air from her lungs with every number. “Seven, six, five -”

Her pussy clenched around him, and as the countdown drew to an end, she cried out, letting the sound be drowned out by the sudden burst of fireworks that lit up the night sky. She pushed back into him as she came, and his pace quickened, his own climax filling her hot and thick as the party music struck up again from the floor below.

A pleasurable buzz left her dizzy and she clutched the balcony, letting her blurry gaze linger on the city underneath. The sensation of his withdrawal made her hum happily, and when he pulled her to her feet, she stumbled right into his arms and his kiss. His lips left her dizzier than before, and she gave him a dopey smile as he chuckled and cupped her cheek.

“Happy New Year.”

She leaned into his touch. “Happy New Year.”

“Your friends will be wondering where you are,” he murmured.

“Let them wonder,” she replied, almost drunk on him, clinging to the front of his tuxedo. “What now?”

He inhaled deeply, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, I was hoping to take you home,” he said quietly, lips twitching with a smile.

“And tomorrow?” she asked, daring to hope.

His smile became a grin. “I waited so long for this, you think I’m gonna give it up now?”

Her heart pounded as she smiled back up at him. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”

Psst, if you wanna tell me who you were imagining, send an ask or reblog 😘

#fanfiction #fiction #adult fiction #smut #who did you see?#fanfic #reader insert

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munsonownsmyass · 1 year

Text

Not now, not yet

Joel miller x reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood. I choose to leave out the rest, so I don't spoil.

Notes: I don't know what this is. Barely a drabble, but I had a thought and had to write it.

No spoilers for the show, promise.

Breathing hard, you look around as you try to gather your senses. Everything turned to chaos in a split second when that horde surprised you, coming from every side. Somewhere during your escape, you lost track of the others, but most importantly you lost track of Joel and Ellie.

Frantically you look around, disorientated by everything around you. Guttural growls that should only be in nightmares fill the air, followed by screams of pain and gunshots. Please don’t let it be Joel. It’s selfish to wish another person dead, but they could take anyone, just not Joel.

Leaning against a wall, you slowly pull up your shirt, the worm fabric already painted red. Shit. Not like this. Not now, not yet.You had to find Joel and Ellie.

Whump

The sound is almost soft, but it’s followed seconds later by a blast, the energy enough to knock you over. Fumbling to your knees, you see the cloud in the distance. You try to see through the dust, in the direction of the explosion, praying Joel didn’t go that way.

“Oh God.” Your fingers tremble as they reach for the walkie. “Joel?” The line remains silent and you breathe out slowly, trying to hold back the tears. “Joel? Come in, please…”

There’s still no answer, only the white static filling the air, the sound taunting you. Trying one more time, you know how desperate it must sound, but you don’t care. “Joel!”

Perhaps… They weren’t even near the blast. Perhaps they’re still somewhere behind you, battling the infected. Perhaps they’re fine somewhere, nothing but a few bruises. They’re fine. They have to be fine.

With one final look around, you make sure the coast is clear before you move forward. One word keeps circling you mind as you move forward, searching for your group.

Please

The pain shoots through you, making it harder to breathe. The t-shirt is clinging to your skin, hot and sticky. You had to stop the bleeding, you knew that, but you wanted to find them. Had to find them.

It gets harder to walk, each step feeling like dragging your feet through sand. Blinking a few times, you try to focus, vision already getting blurry. Behind you the sound of an infected is drawing near. You have to fight it, its you or it, but you don’t have the energy. Body is getting heavy, but you have to go on. Have to find them. Have to…

“Sweetheart.”

His voice pulls you back, his beard tickling against the sensitive skin of your neck. Opening your eyes, you see the ugly wallpaper of your bedroom, the color so faded you barely can make out the print. An arm tightens around you. His arm.

Turning around, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent. He’s real, he’s there. Shaking, you move closer, impossibly close and Joel just holds you, one hand drawing soft circles on your back. “I… I thought you and Ellie were dead.” You sniffle, moving your head to his chest, the sweet sound of his heartbeat grounding you.

“Yeah, figured as much.” He drawls, his voice thick with sleep, as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. After the last run where you had a close call, you’ve had nightmares almost every night. But every time Joel was there to make it all better again. “We’re okay.” He whispers softly into your hair, holding you close.

“I know.” But still, you wrap yourself impossibly tight to him. You hate to be this vulnerable with him, but you can’t help it. He’s the one thing keeping you sane in this fucked up world. You can’t lose him. Looking up, you see how the moonshine falls on his face, making him even more beautiful. He looks to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. No words are needed, his eyes say it all. He can’t lose you either. And hopefully, he never will.

Tagging: @mindidjarin @misspearly1 @boliv-jenta @itwasthereaminuteago @scorpio-marionette @pedrito-friskito @iamskyereads @lucy-sky @marvelous-world-of-fiction @littlemisspascal @e-dubbc11 @thisishellfire @idrinkcoffeeandobsess

Soft tag (feel free to ignore): @absurdthirst @frannyzooey

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction

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st4rgzer · 5 months

Text

STICK SEASON matt sturniolo

genre: angst and just a bit of fluff at the end

summary: you have some unfinished business with someone you’ve missed more than you’d like to admit

cw!: self deprecation i think?

a/n: feeling very Noah Kahan ish

I went to Vermont to my parents house in a desperate attempt to find some comfort in anything, my childhood house came close to what I needed, even if the sad pink wallpaper pasted on my wall was peeling off, the bed, rusty, and the springs tired of supporting groups of chatting girls, or the mirror dusty from not having anyone stare into it to do their makeup for a while now, it still brought me a little bit of relief to have proof that I was once in a better place.

But now it was time to go “home” or at least what used to be home, now home has a different meaning. I’ve always struggled with selfishness, always having angry tendencies so I directly remove myself from the situation in order to avoid any nuisance I might provoke. Matt helped me. He saw the good in me as I saw the good in him, showing me that yelling isn’t the only way one can be heard, gentle words, whispers and sighs, worked effortlessly with him, everything envolving him meant being engulfed endlessly in light and sweetness. Now I’m stuck between the anger and the blame I can’t face, I tried to just remove myself from the situation.

“We can fix this please, I can fix this, I can change”

“I know you can, but I can’t be here, I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself, I’m tired of this”

That’s when he just drove off and left our future to the right. Rightfully so, I tend to play the victim, I’m trying to change, for him.

The phone dials again and the familiar voicemail appears, he used to call me forever now he can’t even call me back. I’m in Boston and I don’t think they’re home, but I’m terrified of knocking on their door.

Until I wasn’t. My body suddenly became 10 times heavier as I tried to drag myself to their doorstep, tempted to just run off and catch the next plane to nowhere. But I had to do this, for him, for me.

knock, knock, knock

One, two, three

The door opened and I was greeted with a very surprised Matt, he looked different from when I had seen him last, not in a bad way.

“what are you doing here” He blatantly said, quickly, he realized how brute he’d been and rectified his wording

“-i’m sorry, Hey y/n, what brings you…here?” He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as I began talking, it seemed my voice startled him, after all, it had been some time.

“I wanted to talk to you” I said, trying not to seem too stern. I had a habit of making situations more complicated then they had to be. He sighed and opened the door for me to walk through, the smell of bath and body works candle Nick bought for one of their videos (i’m sorry icba to use the pink sands reference) brought me back to the long movie sessions we’d have on their family couch, Mary Lou would bring us christmas cookies grannies would buy, I bought those last week, they didn’t taste the same.

“so um- long time…” He said walking behind the couch, creating some distance between us. He put his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, I don’t think he was very happy to see me.

“yeah” I bit my inner cheek. Id come here to talk but I couldn’t seem to find any words right now, I wish it could be like it used to be, I wouldn’t have to say anything, he’d know what was wrong, he’d find the words for me.

“Matt I-” I took a deep breath and tried not to make a joke out of myself. “I know I have no right to show up at your doorstep unannounced, well I did call you but- that’s not the point. I’m sorry, yes that’s what I wanted to say, I’m sorry, and I’m sorry for fucking everything up and showing up in your life again and that’s not fair but I needed you to know I’m not a bad person, I’ve made mistakes and I can’t even say how sorry i am for hurting you in any way possible but I think about you everyday. I mean I see you everywhere, I see you when It rains, I see you when I discover a new song then I remember you recommended it to me, and I mean, I think what we had, what at least I thought we had, was something, you know? Now i see you mother and she doesn’t even remember me.” I inhaled sharply, my words spewing faster than I could breathe. I couldn’t figure out what Matt was thinking, if it was good or bad, well, I think in this situation it couldn’t be very good, one can hope.

A minute of silence passed by, the only sound that filled it was our steady-ish breaths, we looked at each other as if we were having a telepathic argument, however that would work, I thought telling a joke would ease the tension, I missed his laugh, maybe I’d get to hear it once again, but I don’t think i’m funny anymore.

“y/n…” My eyes were wide as I clawed into the couch in anticipation, not knowing if the next hour I would spend crying or whatever the other option was.

"I missed you too" his words were doubtful, he questioned himself, uncertain in wether he meant them or not.

“yes, I missed you. Maybe that’s bad, maybe I’m just a masochist, that, or you’re just engraved in my brain” He chuckled, his laughed remained the same, at least some things are how I remembered.

“so…you don’t hate me?” I said cautiously, analyzing his words in my mind to see if he really said what he said.

“I don’t think so, I’ve never hated you I don’t think. I couldn’t hate you, y/n, even if I tried, and trust me, I tried” His words almost seemed fake as I tried to fathom them, a puzzled look on my face that seemed to amuse Matt.

I nodded, not quite knowing what to respond just yet, or how to continue with the conversation. Figuring out any hidden meaning behind his slight smile, maybe everything was just really in my head, well, at least some part of it.

“I told Mary Lou you were going to be in town, I listened to you voicemails” He paused, looking away, almost embarrassed.

“I was nervous for you to come, I didn’t know how to feel exactly…But I definitely haven’t forgotten about you, the other day Chris accidentally bought two hats online, one was yellow, your favorite colour, is it still you favorite? Well, Nick reminded us”

I smiled. It was weird to hear that my name was thrown around in foreign conversations, I thought it may be a taboo here.

“It is. I’m glad, was Chris able to return the hat?” I said, thinking I sounded stupid to get that from the conversation instead of the important part, I tried to spark conversation.

“I kept it.” He said quietly, I smiled, a feeling of pity lingered in my stomach.

“I know this might be a long shot but, do you maybe want to get lunch, or coffee, or something with me? I’m in town till next week, if you want of course” I said, trying not to fumble my words, hoping to make things work, or just at least leave them a little better.

“sure”

A sudden childish excitement filled me, a feeling I had missed so dearly, a feeling I had when I was with Matt, as I could see.

“ok, text me?” I tilted my head, hopeful, relieved when he nodded. Saying things like this so casually still unsettled me slightly but I’ll try to ignore the feeling.

I guess lunch it is.

taglist: @gaytoadwithapopsicle @dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @20nugs @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @stvrni0lo @ssturniolo @ifilwtmfc @gabbylovesreading @lvrsparadise @strniolo

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo

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