#gifs semi unrelated

[secretarysong]

the world is not ready for butch zuke

[cherubdulce]

so I got early access for the new dis.venture camp ep (bc of patreon subscription) coming out this week and good god I have no words

[belladonnafleur]

[cas-writes-stuff-ig]

Regina's Pet

CONTENT:

Word Count: 10,210 words

f!/nb!reader x regina george (dom!regina sub!reader)

-reader and regina smoke weed and cigarettes, but reader has never used a bong before

-drinking

-the reader has a shoulder tattoo and Regina finds

-cady and janis are friends with the plastics

-smut (she collars you later) (mommy kink) (degrading and praise) (semi-public stuff) (a bit of BDSM) (she eats you out and fingers you, and she rides your face) (edging and overstim)

-gross guy hitting on Regina, reader helps her

-fluffy shower aftercare

-she dates you in the end

-regina is kinda more nice here, but she still calls you a dumbass

(btw the smut is at the beginning and the end if you want to skip to it, but there's a lot of teasing build-up between there.)

Hi, i’m really new to writing so sorry if its shitty. I hope you like it. I might make a Part 2

(small unrelated note: I accidentally posted this while I was still writing it out yesterday, mb to those 15 people who saw this and didn't read the finished version, I'm kinda new to writing on Tumblr [i also haven’t written anything since i was 13 so bear with me])

——————————————————————————————

In university you were more or less a wallflower, leaned against a wall near the kitchen counter watching people come and go with drinks, watching the dance floor. Your friends had disappeared somewhere in the house leaving you unintentionally. It was Friday, and the night was young.

You looked into your red solo cup and downed it all, then walked to the kitchen counter to pour yourself another cup of liquid courage with coke.

Just as you were about to resume to leaning against a wall a hand tapped your shoulder from behind and you saw her, Regina George. You assumed she just came from the crowd of people dancing since you hadn’t seen her before that.

She’s been in some of your lectures and had taken a liking to you, her normal spot was always near you or next to you, so you could share notes, but she always had friends around her. With others, she was snarky but with you she was snarky in a more friendly-flirty way. You couldn’t tell if she was actually flirting or not. But she often invited you out to study outside of class.

She was taller than you and you looked up a bit at her, then she stepped forward and you stepped back against the wall “Hey little wallflower,” she grinned as she saw your face of surprise, “Didn’t expect you to be here” and looked you up and down. This was one of the only times you saw her in a non-educational setting.

While of course she looked stunning, you looked down at your own outfit and scratched the back of your head, you wore just a T-shirt partially tucked in jeans. “Yeah kind of, I don’t know where my friends went. I got a little lost.” You admitted.

“You smoke?” she asked.

“Weed or Nicotine?”

“Either, I’ve got both if you want” her voice enticed you like a siren call.

Tired of standing around watching like a loner you nod “Preferably weed right now, just warning you, I’m a bit of a lightweight, but sure” you said

“Hmm, okay loser, c’mon” Regina smirked took your free hand, and led you through the crowd toward the side yard, where two girls were sitting around a table passing a bong, finishing up a bowl. You recognize them as part of Regina’s pack of friends, but you never formally talked to them.

Regina let go of your hand, “Hey guys you know Y/N, Y/N you know Gretchen and Karen right? Right.” she sat down on an empty chair and beckoned you to sit in the empty one next to her.

Gretchen stood “Actually we were just about to go get more drinks and find Cady and Janis, we’ll be back Gina” Karen also stood and handed Regina the bong and the lighter.

When they were out of earshot you whispered nervously to Regina, “Um, Regina? I’ve smoked weed but I’ve never used a bong before” you were bright red wondering if she’d judge you or something.

She had stared packing a small bowl and laughed at you a little “Sweet little thing” her voice was flirty but you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol in both your systems. She turned back to you “Move closer to me, I’ll help you” she ordered. You pushed your chair toward Regina and sat in front of her, knees almost touching. “Hands out flat hold the bottom, sweetheart” then she placed it on your hands. “Now, breathe in” you did as you were told and the water bubbled. Then, she lit the bowl and looked straight into your eyes, and then finally took the bowl out and nodded signaling for you to stop breathing in.

You breathed out the smoke which felt smoother than any smoke you’d ever had in your lungs “Good job Y/N, baby” her voice was a little condescending, but you warmed inside still at the praise. She took it out of your hands and used it herself. You alternated turns using it, with her still helping you and only giving you small short hits.

Feeling more at ease, you relaxed more in your chair and melted in it a bit. Regina looked at you cunningly, obviously enjoying that you were starting to let loose. “Regina, why are you hanging out with me I’m not exactly the most riveting thing at this party” you circled your hand insinuating that she was the riveting thing here.

“You intrigue me sweetheart” she said nonchalantly “Do i need another reason?”

“No I guess not..”

She added sarcastically “Oh, I remember I only keep you around for lecture notes and help with homework.” you laughed and she spoke again “you don’t look half bad either.” Was that Regina saying she thought you looked good? You ignored that thought and took a sip from your solo cup.

“Hey Regina” you slurred your words a bit while she took another hit herself “Can I have another hit, please?” and grinned at her.

You leaned forward so you could hold your hand out again, instead she grabbed your shirt collar eliciting a gasp from you, lips as close to hers without kissing, she started blowing smoke into your mouth and you obliged breathing it in. Then pulled you in for a quick kiss, leaving you speechless. “Cat got your tongue loser?” still holding your shirt, keeping you from moving backward.

Pausing for a moment trying to process what happened and to find the words, you spoke softly your inhibitions lost “No, you do” and she pulled you in again for a deeper kiss tasting her lipstick. She let go of your shirt and her thumb cleaned your lips of her lipstick.

Your head spun from the alcohol, weed, and adrenaline, your body was warm and fuzzy. “Fuck, you’re amazing” you said under your breath without thinking. Your heart hammered.

“Of course I am Y/N” she stood up and held her hand out to you, a silent order for you to get up and take her hand.

“You’re like a goddess” she stared down at you, like you were her obedient servant. Then you took her hand.

“I know loser”

——————————————————————————————

She called an Uber for both of you and brought you back to her dorm. She told you that her roommate wouldn’t come back tonight, since they head home on the weekends.

She led you inside and you asked “You sure your roommate isn’t gonna come back?” you closed the door behind you.

“Ugh no, shut up don’t ruin the mood just kiss me” she shoved you against the door and tilted your head up to look at her “You gonna be good for me?”. You just nodded and kissed her, she pushed her knee between your thighs and you whined into her. You opened your mouth more to let her tongue inside.

With your core aching for more touch, you started grinding on her thigh and she pushed her knee up higher into you. Regina broke the kiss with a bite to your lip eliciting another moan from you. “Shit- Regina” you buried your face in the crook of her neck and moaned out, she took your face to look back at her.

“Do you want more?” she asked, but you only nodded. “Ah ah” Regina scolded you “use your words.”

“Shit, please Regina? Please, fuck me. Be mean to me” You begged her not thinking about your words.

She smirked at you feigning disgust “Oh? Shy, innocent, little wallflower is so dirty” She removed her leg from between your knees and started undoing your belt and pants. Then she walked away from you towards the bed and started removing her shirt, while you did the same. She then sat on the bed with only her panties on and spread her legs. “You want me to fuck you? Get on your knees and earn it”

You both were still very crossfaded and you eagerly went on your knees kissing her from her knee to her inner thigh biting as you went. You looked up and saw her flushed face and kissed above her clit through her panties. “Take them off. Make mommy feel good.”

“Yes mommy” You loved her telling you what to do. You slid her panties off and she spread her legs for you. Regina’s pussy was wet, and hot. She looked down at you expectantly. “You’re beautiful” you said before pressing your tongue to her clit. Regina moaned out and you squeezed your thighs together, trying to relieve your own ache.

You tongued at her clit and pulled away to use a hand to rub circles around her bud “Can I use my fingers inside you?” and she let out a yes between moans and you watched her face as you slid two fingers easily inside her wet cunt and curled them pressing her g-spot her head threw back. You then returned your tongue to her clit pressing and licking harder.

“Shit baby, I’m close, don’t stop” she grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer suffocating you between her legs a little bit. You rubbed your thighs together trying to relieve yourself and moaned into her pussy while you curled your fingers inside of her.

A loud “Fuck” between pants and moans was the last thing she said before she arched her back, one hand pressing you hard into her pussy the other supporting her while she came on your fingers, you continued the assault on her clit while she rode out her orgasm. When she finished you licked her pussy and thighs clean.

"You have a tattoo, I never took you for a tattoo kind of person" You looked up at her as she traced your shoulder. Regina found it hot "You never told me" It was always well hidden behind a normal tshirt

You replied "You never asked" and gave her a smile "It's not finished yet though"

She pulled you up onto the bed with her and you straddled one of her thighs. “You did such a good job pet” She still breathed heavily, and she kissed you tasting herself on your tongue.

You grinded down on her thigh a bit while you worshiped her body, a little whine escaping your mouth. Though your core aches for attention you dare not ask in fear of upsetting the goddess. Instead you worshipped her body with a trail of kisses from her neck to her breast. Leaving hickeys and marks only on places that could be covered easily. When you leaned back to look at the marks you left, you just stared looking at her perfect figure.

You heard Regina let out a scoff “You done gawking at me sweetie?” you reddened realizing how long you stared for. Smirking at your embarrassment, she decided to give you mercy “You ready for your reward baby?” her voice sickly sweet and domineering.

“Please” you said under your breath, you couldn’t take waiting any longer, it ached between your legs.

Regina laughed a bit at you “So needy” She took a hand and signaled for you to lift your hips, her other hand placed on her thigh where you’d been grinding slightly. “Ride it, ride my fingers slut.”

You lowered down onto her hand and as soon as you took her fingers in she curled them hitting your g-spot, a loud moan escaped from your mouth and then you started to grind your hips. You covered your mouth with your hand and closed your eyes, your other hand on her shoulder supporting yourself. Riding her hand, the base of her palm rubbed against your clit “Shit- Regina..” you moaned out but muffled against your hand.

She stilled your hips and threatened “Move your hand, let me hear you or I’ll stop” you opened your eyes half-lidded and let your hand drop to Regina’s other shoulder supporting yourself with both hands now. “Good pet seems like you can follow orders hm”

She started guiding your hips against her hand to start you back up again. You didn’t break eye contact with her. You moaned out loudly when her hand from your hip found one of your nipples and pinched it hard. “Regina” you panted out desperately and she just bit her lip.

She curled her fingers repeatedly hitting your g-spot and let you grind, you synched your hips with her movements. Each press inside and each time your clit moved against her palm sent pleasure shooting through your body, and heat started to burn in your core “Fuck, Regina- please I’m close. I can’t” you were almost tipping over the edge

“Cum for me baby, go on” She instructed and your legs shook and you moaned out her name over and over, she continued to guide you through your orgasm still pressing against your inside until you stopped grinding against her hand.

When she started to pull her hand away, you lifted your hips to let her, Regina let her fingers slide through your slit and rubbed hard against your overstimulated clit. A loud whimper escaped, but you tried not to move away “Shit- Regina, I’m sensitive” You looked at her pleadingly, legs trembling

“I know baby” she smirked deviously as your legs shook “come one more time for me, can you do that?” she circled your clit faster.

“Yes, fuck- anything for you” you weren’t going to last long, especially when she talked to you like that.

Regina hummed “Such a pathetic toy for me aren’t you?” you whined out a yes and she pressed harder. She loved seeing you come undone.

“Regina, please, I’m close again” you managed to get out, then she started rubbing horizontal strokes right against your clit and you felt like you saw stars “Mommy- please I can’t, I can’t-”

“Go ahead pet” she purred in your ear and you came all over her hand again. This orgasm was more intense than the first, white-hot pleasure struck through you. She whispered praises and encouragement while you came, but she never slowed down wanting to prolong your orgasm as long as possible.

When you pulled your hips away you she brought her hand in front of both of you. “Look at how messy you are baby” then she made a show of licking your wetness off her hands.

You sat on her lap still straddling her and she sat up to kiss you, she wrapped her arms around your waist and your arms went around her shoulder and neck. She kissed your jawline and then your neck leaving a sizable hickey that would be hard to hide. She pulled back to look at you.

“That was incredible” you said breathily coming down from your orgasm high and the weed. “Thank you” you murmured quietly.

“You did say I was amazing” she pulled you close to her lips again, “of course I’m incredible in bed” sounding cocky as ever.

Regina let you climb off her and she helped you clean yourself up. You sat on the bed while she rummaged through her drawer and she threw a pink t shirt and a pair of sweats at you. She decided to keep the stray in her bed. “Stay tonight”

“Thank you” you said as you stood up and got changed into her pjs.

She rummaged more through her drawer and pulled out a small tape measurer “Sit up” she instructed and you did, then she wrapped it around your neck measuring it quickly.

You were confused, but before you could ask what it was for, she lifted the covers to get in bed and anxiety suddenly took over you. You were about to sleep in this gorgeous woman’s bed. But your mind raced. Was this just a fling? Were you really just kept around for homework and a good fuck? Your expression changed and you furrowed your eyebrows a tiny bit. “I’m gonna go get some water really quick” you grabbed her water bottle.

Before you could walk out, she said “Okay nerd, just come back” she sounded irritated, but the way her hand had tugged on your shirt showed you she wasn’t really upset.

“Of course” you grabbed your phone and walked out to the communal bathroom. You went to the sink and splashed water in your face. “Fuck” you said to yourself looking at the mirror, you then tilted your head to the side looking at the hickey she left on you. Your stomach fluttered, you’d just fucked one of the most beautiful people and she wants you to come back to bed.

You opened your phone to worried messages from your friends

Y/N: so sorry guys I’m at someone’s dorm right now

Max: shit we were worried about you, we tried finding you at the party but you weren’t there

Y/N: you guys have my location you know

Jade: whose dorm r you at? did you, yk?

You hesitated before texting back, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Your friends knew that Regina had taken a liking to you and gave you special treatment, they also knew what a huge crush you had on her

Y/N: i’m with regina...

Max: so you’re the one people saw with regina huh

Jade: hope you had fun

Y/N: mm details later, i’m going to bed goodnight

Jade: goodnight

Max: night

Next to the communal bathroom, was a small water fountain and you filled it.

You walked back to her room and she put her phone down quickly and lifted the covers for you to come in. “Hey Regina?” you said nervously as you got shifted to be comfortable in her bed.

“Yes” she replied while she took your arm around to hold her. You were cuddling her, and she scooted closer to you.

“I was just wondering, is this just a one time thing or..” you paused anxiously wondering if she was mad.

She turned over in your arms and looked at you “You’re a good fuck, you’re good with school, yes.” Regina said a bit sternly, almost offended at you asking. “but you don’t look half bad, and I actually happen to enjoy your company” she said under her breath. You wouldn’t know if she actually said that last part if you didn’t feel her breath on your lips.

“And if you want this again, which I know you do, then you’ll get it, understand?” she said cockily again, you didn’t reply but just passionately kissed her, and her hand came to cup your face. “I’ll take that as a yes” This was the nicest Regina ever was up till now, and it warmed you.

She turned back over for you to spoon her and you pulled her close this time and kissed her neck and shoulder. “Thank you, goodnight Regina” you murmured, sleepiness taking over your body.

“Goodnight loser” she replied with no malice in her voice. You nuzzled your face into her shoulder and Regina felt you smile into her shoulder. You were her loser, hers. And hopefully hers for more nights.

——————————————————————————————

In the morning you realized where you were, in Regina George’s bed and reddened at the realization. In the night you switched positions with her, and she really just held you like a teddy bear. You awkwardly slipped your phone out from under the pillow and checked the time, it was around 10AM.

You felt her stir and pull you close to her, and your heart beamed, the snappy Regina George likes to cuddle you. “Good morning” You felt her breathe against your neck.

“Good morning Regina, did you sleep okay?” you replied and turned over to look at her.

She let go to stretch her arms out a bit. “Good, you?”

“I haven’t slept that good in a while” You admitted, her smile full of pride.

“What? You worn out from last night baby” she teased and you just didn’t reply and turned your head into the pillow. You felt her get up out of the bed then you looked at what she was doing. She handed you your clothes from last night.

She threw you a glance and told you “Get dressed we’re going out.” She sat in her desk chair and started putting on make up.

“Wait what?” you asked surprised.

She turned around annoyed and looked at you “We’re going shopping loser, get dressed” she turned back to her mirror and teased “Don’t worry I wont look at you change, not like I didn’t see you naked last night right?” you flustered and got changed.

You sat on the bed waiting for bed to finish getting ready, kicking your feet a bit “Hey Regina, you got any coffee?” you said as she was slipping on her heels.

“Some in the fridge” you kneeled down to get some and opened a bottle of cold coffee.

“Thanks” you turned and saw her put on her black leather jacket, then she walked up to you, and used a finger to tilt your head up.

“You ready to go?” she smiled looking down at you, the heels she wore made her much taller than you. Your face was red and she reveled in the effect she had on you. You just nodded.

——————————————————————————————

You sat in the front passengers seat, and of course Regina had a sexy car too. You had chugged your coffee out of nervousness. Regina told you that Gretchen and Karen ended up at some frat guys house, and picked them up.

When they got in you really stuck out like a sore thumb. Three pretty girls and there was you. While they all talked amongst themselves about their night, you just stared at the road.

After arriving at some mall parking lot, Regina led the three of you through an expensive clothing store, you were in the back following them like a lost dog. Regina instructed them to find clothes for you, and you were stunned, you thought they were here for themselves, and you were there to tag along.

“Y/N, sit there got it?” She pointed at some chairs near a dressing room “We’ll be back.” You went to go sit and waited for them.

Gretchen and Karen came to you first and surprisingly they let you pick the clothes that you felt comfortable wearing. They put the clothes you didn’t choose on a rack and dispersed again to pick out clothes for themself. You yelled a “Thanks guys” before they were out of earshot.

Regina came back and walked toward you, “Hey try this on” she handed you a white wife beater and some ripped jeans and she looked through the clothes the girls had chosen for you, and removed some items from the pile. You saw a plastic bag so she had already bought herself some clothes while she was a walking around.

“Okay” You stepped into a dressing room and slipped the clothes on, you saw how expensive they were and grew anxious. You looked good but you still felt nervous and self-conscious, the shirt revealed your tattoo, which you never showed off. You poked your head out and saw Regina looking at you and raised an eyebrow, wanting to see the outfit.

You stepped out and she got up from her chair and approached you, circling you like prey. It made you nervous. Her hand touched your waist and she spoke, “Wear this with your belt” Regina walked in front of you and tucked the front of the shirt into the pants “You look cute” she put a finger on her lip and looked you up and down.

“Th-thanks” you replied nervously.

Regina then walked behind you and smacked your ass lightly. It made you yelp a little, and she let out a soft chuckle. Her fingers laced through the loops on the jeans on either side and pulled your hips into hers and whispered in your ear “Your ass looks nice in these jeans, wear this outfit tonight” Then she nipped at your ear, and you suddenly felt hot. She traced your shoulder again "Also show this off more often"

You stammered out “What’s tonight?” She let go of you and smiled.

“Another party of course” she sat down in the chair and crossed her legs “Get changed again, then let’s go pay”

When you stepped out, Regina took the clothes from you and handed you her bag of clothes to hold, and went to go to the register to pay for you. “You really don’t have to do that Regina it’s fine,” you said, feeling bad if she paid.

“If I’m going to be seen again with you tonight, especially on the dance floor, I want you to look good.” she glanced at you and inserted her card. It was nice that she paid even though it was for her own selfish purposes.

“You sure you don’t want me to pay you back” You felt bad because it was pricey.

“Don’t question me baby” She threw you a glare and walked past you handing you the bag of clothes making you hold both bags but you didn’t really mind that. And you nodded obediently.

Gretchen and Karen were also paying and when you all were reunited at the entrance, you offered to hold their bags as well, which they let you. You walked around more with them at the mall, Gretchen and Karen ended up walking off on their own to another part of the mall, then it was just you and Regina again.

You both were talking comfortably, even though your heart was racing, you wanted to tease her back a bit. You sat at a table, sitting across from each other, drinking some soda, then you leaned forward, elbows on the table resting your head in your hands smiling “So you really do enjoy my company don’t you”.

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever you think”

“Oh come on, you said it last night, I remember it” You tilted your head to the side and grinned wider.

She crossed her legs and her arms and was frustrated “I did, so what? We were drunk and high” She spat, and it almost hurt your feelings. She then put on a devious smile “And if you keep acting like a brat about it, you’ll regret it tonight, understand me, baby?”

Heat instantly went between your legs at what she was insinuating but you continued your facade of confidence “Regret it how?” you laughed and said “Should I fuck around and find out? or be good for you?”

She returned your sentiment “Up to you, either way you’ll end up begging” That made your facade crumble away and you felt your face grow red, and she just relished in your shyness, knowing she won.

Once you were reunited with them again, Regina drove Gretchen and Karen to their respective dorms, and you last. Before you got out the car she grabbed your shirt again and pulled you in for a quick kiss. “Meet back at mine at around 7, got it? I’ve got another errand to run”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there, thanks for taking me out today” You stepped out and waved.

“Mmhm whatever, thank me later” her tone was mean but she pulled her sunglasses down a little and gave you a look that made your heart flutter for a moment.

She drove away and you walked into your dorm where your two friends were. “Hey guys” you put your bag of clothes down and kicked your boots off.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in” Your friend Jade said to you.

“Yeah a bag of clothes Jade it isn’t a big deal” you replied tired of walking around “Turn around I’m changing”

Max and Jade turned around but still probed at the topic “But you were with the Regina George last night” Jade said.

“And you slept in her dorm” Max added, you changed into your comfortable pjs to lounge around in until 7 o’clock approached

“You can turn back around now” you said and they turned toward you arms crossed

“Details please” they both said and you sighed defeated.

“Promise me you won’t tell a soul” you put your pinkies out for them and the promised.

“Of course Y/N”

You sat on your bed and they sat across from you on Max’s bed, and you huffed out “Fine, she found me, we smoked a bong, and then we left, got an Uber to her dorm and we fucked” you sighed.

Max smiled “I would say sorry for losing you last night, but It seems like you had a great time without us” and pointed to your neck. You had completely forgot you had a hickey there and you were cherry red in the face. Jade and Max laughed at your obliviousness.

“But come on was it good?” Jade pressed.

You had grabbed a pillow and stuffed your mouth and nose into it “yes, she liked my tattoo” you said through the pillow.

“Does she like you? Was it a fling or does she want you again?”

“I don’t know, but she’s insinuated she wanted to fuck again” you mumbled.

Max and Jade high-fived each other “Y/N getting laid with the prettiest girl around” Max said teasing you.

Jade and Max were actually pretty sociable and had connections to parties, so when they got you as a roommate they took you on as their token introvert.

Jade laughed and added wiping away fake tears “They grow up so fast” You threw the pillow at them and their laughter only grew. Once they regained composure, Jade asked “There’s another party tonight, you coming with? Regina might be there” she waggled her eyebrows at you and you held up your middle finger.

“Actually, Regina invited me out to the party with her friends..” you grabbed the bag of clothes and took out the outfit Regina bought for you “that’s what this is for, she bought it for me”

They whooped and cheered, then Max spoke “She must really like you then Y/N” They paused and looked at your anxious face “Don’t sweat it, you’re gonna be hot shit tonight”

“I hope so” You ran your fingers through your hair.

7 o’clock approached faster than you expected, it was already 6:20 and you had gotten some notes done for a class. Then you started to change into the outfit Regina chose for you, you ripped off the tags and threw them in the recycling trashcan near the mirror, putting on your clothes. Max whistled when you turned to look at yourself in the mirror. “Regina has good taste”

“In clothes or people?” you asked, while putting your belt on

“Both Y/N” Max walked up to you and fixed your hair a little. You sat and bounced your knee anxiously “Breathe you already fucked her once you’ll be fine” you just felt silly, your outfit wasn’t too out of your comfort zone but you were scared again.

Max patted your shoulder. “You’re fine, you should wear that gold cross necklace you have, it’d look good with your outfit” you grabbed it and handed it to Max to clasp around your neck.

It was an indulgence purchase from months ago, you saw it and decided you needed it, it was actually expensive and real gold too. You were rather attracted to shiny things, and people like Regina.

Jade was absorbed in some video on her laptop and Max beckoned her “Jay look at them” She paused her video and looked at you.

“Wow go get ‘em tiger” Jade said jokingly, you rolled your eyes and cringed at her

“What are you my dad?” you grinned and then looked at your phone, “Ah shit I should head out now guys” You grabbed your small cross bag and slung it over your shoulder.

“We’ll see you at the party!” Max and Jade called out, you waved them goodbye. Then you walked to Regina’s dorm, it was about a 10-15 minute walk away and you texted her to let you into the building. You were only 3 minutes early.

Y/N: Hey Regina i’m outside, mind letting me in?

Regina G :0 : Be down in a sec

You didn’t wait long as she opened the door for you and led you back to her dorm. She didn’t look at you just yet, she was in a hurry to get back and finish getting ready. When she was finished getting ready, she stepped in front of the mirror and ensured her outfit looked good. She wore a pink shirt that complimented her breast well and black leggings and heeled boots. Then she turned around to you.

She hummed in approval and then you were red again. She traced the gold cross you wore. “Nice touch”. She grazed your arms which were nicely toned but not super muscular.

“Thank you” you stood awkwardly as she was staring at your outfit and your body. You avoided eye contact.

“Real gold?” she took the cross into her hands and looked at the fine details, you nodded. “Consider me impressed” you breathed out a sigh of relief only for her to pull you by your belt into a kiss. “You ready for this little wallflower?”

“Yeah” you said quietly.

She handed you her leather jacket “Hold this for me, don’t lose it” the she leaned over to apply her lipstick and walked back over to you pressing a few kiss marks to your cheek and neck. “Don’t wipe that off either” She pulled her phone out “Just waiting for Gretchen, Karen and Cady now”

——————————————————————————————

You left your bag at Regina’s since you assumed you’d come back for it anyway but took an unopened pack of Marlboros and a lighter and put it in Regina’s jacket. It was about 8 o’clock that you all left, Cady drove you all to the house party. Regina sat in the front leaving you with Gretchen and Karen in the back. You held Regina’s jacket in your lap.

Karen and Cady were the more amicable of the four in the car. Karen leaned and looked at your back "You've got tattoos Y/N" Suddenly Gretchen leaned over and looked at you.

"You do" She was also surprised "looks good on you"

You swore you saw Regina glance over at you raising an eyebrow, it screamed 'told you I was right nerd'.

Karen complimented your tattoos and asked many follow-up questions you weren't prepared for, but she leaned in and whispered "Regina likes them, she keeps staring at you through the mirror"

Before you could reply back thanks, Cady parked at the curb near the house where you could already hear music, the houses in this neighborhood were huge. Gretchen opened her door first hopping out, and let Karen out. Karen sent you a wink before shutting the door.

Regina led them to the door and opened it, all eyes were on her again. But since you walked in together it felt like they were on you. You all grabbed drinks before Karen and Gretchen dragged Cady to the dance floor. You grabbed some Jack and Coke and Regina just poured herself some Pink Whitney. “Hey Regina can I try some of yours?” you asked trying to loosen up before the alcohol kicked in.

“It’s vodka sweetie, aren’t you a lightweight?” you nodded She placed her cup down and picked up the bottle of Pink Whitney and a clean shot glass and poured you a shot, handing it to you “Bottoms up” You drank it and it burned on the way down but it was sweet and decadent much like Regina herself. She mouthed ‘Good pet’ and smirked then dragged you to the dance floor where you were already tipsy.

“Regina, can I wear your jacket for now so I don’t lose it?” you said loud enough for her to hear through the music and people, she nodded and continued to dance. Your bodies were close together and you were drunk. Alcohol was the best social lubricant.

You danced together and at some points she took your hand and let you spin her around. You had to extend your arms a little bit more than if you were her height and if she wasn’t wearing heels.

You turned your back for a little when you heard Jade and Max call after you and you greeted them, they said they saw you and Regina together and playfully punched your shoulder, and then heard Regina’s voice “Get off me weirdo!” you turned to see some frat guy with his arm wrapped around Regina’s waist.

“Dance with me” he slurred his words very drunkenly but he wouldn’t let go of Regina and she wiggled her way out of his grasp.

“I'm here with someone, get lost” Regina spat.

“Yeah where is he then huh?” The guy stepped up to her, this guy was easily almost a foot taller than you, but Regina didn’t care and she pulled your arm and you instinctively hooked your arm around the back of her waist.

You glared at him and Regina pulled your face towards hers kissing you in front of him and someone others watched, a shy little nobody that no one’s seen is kissing the Regina George. You were drunk and didn’t care, you were pissed this guy wouldn’t leave her alone. Your hand trailed down to her ass momentarily and you both broke the kiss.

He was about to say something else but Gretchen, Karen, and Cady showed up, “Leave her be, fucking jackss” he just scoffed as more people were watching and walked to another girl. You and Regina quickly let go of each other, you wiped off her lipstick from your lips.

Her friends were checking on her and she was just dusting her outfit off obviously irritated as well but she just kept saying she was fine. You were seething inside and chugged the rest of your cup but maintained composure “Regina you okay?”

She looked up at you and snapped “I’m fine Y/N” and she looked at her friends “I’m fine, gonna get more to drink” She stormed off and her friends just stood looking at each other but you weaved your way through the crowd following her.

“Regina” you put a hand on her shoulder, she poured more alcohol into her cup, and she ignored you “Regina let’s go outside for a second” You saw an open case of water and took one out. “Come on Regina please?”

She gave you a death stare but she found the backyard, opened the sliding door, and you followed her when you were alone she sneered at you “I’m fine seriously lay off it” You dare not take her alcohol but you handed her the bottle of water and she sat in a folding chair.

You took out the cigarettes and the lighter and then slipped the jacket off to place around Regina’s shoulders. You sat next to her and opened the pack of cigarettes, placed a piece of gum in your mouth so it wouldn’t taste bad, and lit the cigarette. She drank a third of the water you gave her.

“Smoke break?” you passed her the cigarette and smiled a little, she took it from you wordlessly. You just looked down at your phone and let her have her silence. You got a couple messages from Max and Jade including a picture of Regina and you from the 2nd floor window. You looked at Regina who was turned away from you and then you looked up behind where you saw your friends giving you thumbs up, you flipped them off quickly.

Regina passed the cigarette back to you and you took a long puff. Then she spoke “Men are such jack asses, ugh” she crossed her legs and complained, you listened. “Like get the fuck of of me” she rolled her eyes and then you flicked the ash off and passed the cigarette back to her.

She ranted on for a while before she turned back to you, and murmured a soft “Thanks though” she flicked the cigarette butt away but it landed toward your feet, you picked it up and stuffed it in your pocket to throw away later. Both of you were still thoroughly intoxicated so you felt like you could tease her a little bit.

You put a cigarette in your mouth used one hand to protect it from the wind and one hand lit it up, you took a long puff before smirking. “Regina George? Saying ‘thank you’? I can’t believe my ears” You passed her the cigarette again.

“Shut it nerd” She took a deep breath of the cigarette and blew it at your face. You were glad to see her back to her snarky teasing ways.

“Or what?” You challenged her with no intention of winning. “You gonna punish me, Regina?” You leaned back in your chair and spread your legs to get comfortable, but she stood up.

She walked in front of your chair and towered over you “It seems like that’s what you want” her knee pushed harshly between your thighs, one hand on the back of your chair and the other still holding the cigarette. She looked down at you and you smiled wider, knowing she was back in a better mood. “You better wipe that smug smile off your face L/N”

You tried leaning up to kiss her but she straightened herself out of your reach and shoved her knee harder into your cunt. You whined “Regina” You looked up at her and she held the cigarette to your mouth and watched you inhale, you turned your head to not blow the smoke at her. She looked at you expecting you to say or do something. You put your hands up in defeat “I’m sorry Gina please forgive me” You wanted a taste of her lips.

“Again” she said smiling down at you cruelly, and you swore she could feel the pulse between your legs.

“Regina please, I'm sorry I was joking, I’ll be good now” You put your hands down on your thighs and leaned forward again “Please kiss me”

Like yesterday, she breathed smoke into your mouth. Regina leaned down towards your lips and you inhaled what she gave you, and she pressed her lips to yours. She pulled away and said “You’re forgiven, I suppose”

“Thank you goddess” You smiled at her more timidly. She removed her knee from between your legs and finished off the last of the cigarette. Before she could flick it onto the ground somewhere, you put your hand out to take it from her.

“Oh a good Samaritan too aren’t you?” she taunted you and handed it to you to put in your pocket. She looked you up and down again her eyes lingering at your necklace, then she smirked “Well, God bless you baby” she said seductively, and started to walk away “Let's go back inside shall we?”

She walked ahead of you and you looked up at the window to see if your friends were still there, and they were. Jade mouthed to you ‘bottom’ and you rolled your eyes, then speed walked to catch up with Regina.

Regina got a message and then took your hand and led you upstairs, to a room with a pool table and in the corner, Gretchen, Karen, Cady, and Janis, with two guys you assumed were gonna go home with some of them tonight. They passed around a bong and Regina looked back at you and said quietly. “Hope I trained you well last night, or does my stray need help again?” She sat down next to Cady on the couch and you sat on Regina’s right.

Regina got her turn and then it was yours thankfully you did it right. You passed it around maybe three times and talked and didn’t get awkward or anything, when it was your turn again Regina leaned to whisper in your ear, “Let me know when you wanna go back to mine, I have a surprise” a hand lightly traced the back of your neck and you coughed out then she leaned away to talk to Cady.

You stayed a while, just chatting, and you were pretty sobered up, but you felt needier. You let Regina finish her conversation before tapping Regina’s arm and nodding your head. Then Regina stood up “Cady, me and nerd are heading home now, just gonna take an Uber” You and Regina said bye to everyone else and walked out. Walking out the door she interlaced her fingers with yours.

——————————————————————————————

Regina traced the inner part of your thigh in the car and you had to bite back a whine when she got too close to your core, and you returned the favor pulling her leg apart slightly as well. Your stomach filled with butterflies.

When you got to her dorm she took her jacket off and kissed you relentlessly, both of you kicking off your shoes. Regina undid your belt and slipped a hand underneath your underwear and felt how wet you were. “Been waiting all night for this pet?” she dragged her finger from your entrance to your clit and pressed lightly.

“Yes, I want you, please” you begged, she took her hand out and licked her finger clean.

“Strip for me and kneel in front of the bed, like yesterday” She commanded and you were happy to follow, you took your gold necklace off and placed it on the desk and rid the rest of your clothes. Her back was turned to you and you heard her opening something while you stripped and went on your knees.

“Hey Regina? Can I keep a shirt on?” she turned to you and you were in nothing but held her pink t-shirt you wore last night.

She was amused to see you wear her clothes “Yeah, sure” she went back to fumbling with something and you put the shirt on and stared at your knees.

When you glanced up at her, she wore only her shirt and lace panties now which made you blush and look at the ground, then you heard a clink of metal. Regina sat on the bed right in front of you, and you looked up and saw what she held. A pretty black collar with a tag on the front engraved with the words “Regina’s Pet” and a ring on the back and front of the collar for a leash or for her to tug on.

“Hey you sober right?” her voice was soft and caring, which surprised you.

“Yes, I am” you replied quietly you were eager.

“Do you want this around your neck?” Regina unclasped it and held it in front of you.

Your mouth went dry and you said “yes” weakly.

“Good” she leaned down and fastened the collar onto your neck. “You’re my pet now, yeah?” she hooked her finger through the loop on the front and pulled you close.

“Yes” is all you could manage to say as she beckoned you to straddle her lap. Your legs were spread as you sat on her and she inspected the collar on you.

“is it too tight?” she yanked on it a little and stuck two fingers between your neck and the collar.

“No- no, it’s good thank you” you were nervous again.

“You’re familiar with the color system, yes?” Regina asked.

You nodded “Green for good, yellow for slow down and red for stop”

“Good you’re gonna need it” She replied and kissed your lips

She let go of your collar and one hand was against your back and the other trailed up your thigh and pressed lightly on your clit. “So about you being a bit bratty earlier today..” she circled your clit gently and she stared into your eyes, “I think I have to discipline you a bit, yeah?”

You were willing to do anything she asked really, and said “Yes” She rewarded that answer with her moving pressing slightly harder, you ached wanting more “I’m sorry Regina, I’ll be good” she let out an approving hum.

“Tell me when you’re close baby, don’t finish unless I say so,” She said, “can you do that for me?”

“Yes” and she rewarded you by pressing against your clit faster “Ah, Jesus- Regina, it feels good” you moaned out and rested your head in the crook of her neck. “Faster please,” you begged needing more friction.

“God you’re so fucking pathetic” but she obliged and touched you faster. “You like when I call you pathetic baby?”

“Fuck, yes!” each thrum against your clit sent you closer and closer to orgasm, and you felt your stomach tighten and your legs trembled “Regina I’m close,” But as soon as you said that her fingers were off you and you whined “No.. please, let me come” your orgasm dissipated and your clit ached.

“Mm no” she responded back, “Lay down spread your legs” You climbed off her and spread your legs, and she lifted the shirt to reveal your wet cunt to her. You closed your legs when she stared, but she pried them back open. She started at your inner thigh and left kisses, marks, and bites all the way up to your pussy, where she licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. You arched your back wanting more.

She licked your clit gently at first and then harder, “Regina” you gasped out, and you bucked your hips into her face then she pushed them back down. You looked down and you saw her looking back at you while she ate your pussy out. She flicked her tongue across your clit and you said her name between moans and pants.

While her tongue abused your clit she gathered your slick around her fingers and slid two digits inside you, making you gasp. Pumping her fingers in and out hitting your g-spot your legs began to shake again “Fuck, I’m close. Please don’t stop mommy�� But she pulled away leaving you on the edge again. She moved up and kissed you, tasting your wetness on her tongue.

“You’re doing so good for me, pet” She praised and kissed you again letting you rest before she edged you again. “Color?”

“Green” you replied, the ache between your legs hurt but it felt so good to be at the end of her wrath. Then she went back down to lick your clit again, slower this time wanting to draw out your agony a little bit.

She pulled away to look at your cunt “You have such a pretty pussy, you know that pet?” she then thrust two fingers back inside you before you could respond, curling them against your g-spot, your back arched again, making your collar clink slightly and she went back down to lick your clit again.

Her tongue slowly increased speed and pressure as she licked circles around the bud, her fingers still moving inside you. Suddenly she sucked on your clit and you almost fell over the edge “Wait! close- fuckk” you said to her and she stopped again, you didn’t want to come without her permission, you wanted to be good for her.

You were sexually frustrated, tears pricked at the corner of your eye and she took her clean hand and wiped them away “Does your pussy ache sweetie?” her tone was sadistic as she smiled. You just nodded and she cooed “My poor pet” you whined as she teased you. “One more time, can you handle it?”

You nodded eagerly and she lifted your shirt revealing your tummy and left marks down your stomach to your pussy once more, you involuntarily bucked your hips and she slammed your hips down against the mattress, she was stronger than she let on. She started licking once more and it drove you crazy, your clit was sensitive from the edging, she sucked on it occasionally. Then slid two fingers inside you again. “Regina” you drew out her name and she bit gently at your clit. “You feel so good..” then you were sure you could feel her smirk between your legs.

Your legs trembled again as she licked over your clit directly and relentlessly. A third finger stretched your pussy, and you moaned her name again and again. You pleaded “Regina please, please let me come, please” you whined out and looked down waiting for approval, but she just looked at you and sucked your clit hard. “Regina, please- fuck! I can’t, I can’t hold it, please I’m all yours please”

You were about to come crashing over the edge and then she lifted her head replacing her tongue with her thumb and she strummed your clit quickly “Go on baby, come for me” You almost screamed her name but she kissed you and muffled your sounds, she pulled away from the kiss.

The only words that came out of your mouth as you came was her name “thank you” and “don’t stop” She loved watching the scene before her. Her collared pet writhing and coming under her touch. Regina only stopped when you pushed her hand away, overstimulated.

She put her fingers in your mouth “Clean up your mess pet” you sat up and licked her fingers clean.

When you finished you kissed her hand and murmured “Thank you for letting me finish” she smiled and grabbed a water bottle from her table and held it to your mouth. Your mouth was dry from moaning her name so much.

“You okay there nerd?” she asked gently. She was worried she was too rough on you.

“I’m all good, my legs just feel like jelly” you gave a soft smile and she leaned down to kiss one of your legs. She smiled back at you.

“You up to return the favor?” she straddled your hips as she waited for your answer. You pulled her by the collar of her shirt like she’s done to you and kissed her.

You let her pull away and said “Of course” and she pulled her panties off.

She moved up so her pussy was right over your mouth, she was practically dripping “Be a good doll and make me feel good” She lowered herself onto your mouth and you greedily licked her pussy, you loved how she tasted and you grabbed her hips to put her full weight onto you.

She groaned and began to grind against your tongue, you guided her hips back and forth and she started to move her hips faster “Oh fuck Y/N” you saw her close her eyes. “You’re such a good fuck toy aren’t you?” you moaned at her words and it sent vibrations through her clit “Do that again baby, touch yourself while I ride you” You reached a hand down between your legs and moaned against her again. Your body was sensitive too and you moaned loudly at how overstimulated your clit was.

Your other hand now moved to her ass and you squeezed it digging your nails into her ass and pushing her further down into your face. “God, you’re so good at pleasing me” she gripped your hair and moaned “Don’t stop, please” she sounded desperate and who were you to deny her pleasure when she asked so nicely?

As she approached her orgasm you felt her legs start to squeeze your head a little, and you also got closer, thrumming your finger against your clit. “Fuck I’m close, are you close baby?” she looked down at you “Can you come with me?” you nodded and sucked her clit harder she moaned your name and streams of obscenities, “Fuck- baby” is what she got out before her back arched and she tilted her head back. You moaned into her as your orgasm followed quickly after. She rode your face prolonging her ecstasy as long as possible and then she lifted off you.

You wiped off your face a little before she kissed you again “You’re perfect” you got out between her kissing you.

She climbed off the bed and held her hand out to you, “Let's get cleaned up, how’s that sound?”

You just took her hand and followed her to the bathroom attached to her room. She turned the shower on and got rid of her shirt, then turned to you, undoing your collar. Then you also stripped your shirt off.

She was so sweet it actually caught you off guard. She let you into the shower and asked “You sure you’re okay?” then started to wash your hair.

“I’m way more than okay Regina” you looked up at her and she continued to wash your hair gently “Did you have fun?” You wondered.

“Mmhm, I rode your face and came all over it, of course, I had fun” She rinsed your hair and you began to soap her hair up as well. You turned her around washed the ends of her hair and kissed her shoulder. "I also enjoy making a mess out of you, I hope I wasn't too rough on you"

"You weren't, it felt amazing" you whispered and placed another kiss on her shoulder.

She took a washcloth and washed her own body. Then turned you around, Regina started to lightly wash your back and shoulders "You're so cute" you heard her say quietly, while she washed the rest of the suds away.

When you hopped out of the shower she handed you a towel and you dried yourself off. You wrapped the towel around yourself and followed her back to the room where she got you clean clothes once again.

Instead of crawling into bed right away, Regina was seated on the edge of her bed and actually patted the empty space next to her, you sat next to her “I want to be very clear to you” her voice was serious with an air of worry to it.

Suddenly you felt like you did something wrong and apologized “Shit Regina did I do something wro-“

She cut you off “No! no, you didn’t,” she said quickly “Just listen okay?” Regina was nervous, and you knew she didn’t like to feel coddled but you grabbed her hand trying to support her and she let you. “I like you Y/N, not just to fuck or for homework” Your jaw dropped and she got defensive. “We don’t have to do this-“

“Regina, you like me like…” you paused to breathe “Crush like me?” you gripped her hand tighter hoping you interpreted that right.

“What other kind of ‘like’ is there for a confession, dumbass” she was rude and then apologetic “Sorry” you just laughed.

“You’re fine Regina, I can take when you’re mean to me” and brought your hand up to your lips and kissed it gently “But why? You have so many other people lined up for you other than me, and I’m like, socially awkward and weird”

“The awkwardness is a little charming” She claimed. “You were also hard to read at first, so quiet too. Like a little mouse”

You smiled "Glad you think so" and you kissed her hand again “You’re a little scary Regina”

“I know it’s a blessing and a curse” She just smiled back at you.

You stared at your intertwined hands “I didn’t know you liked me, like that” you bit your tongue “I thought you were just kidding, I’m kind of slow, aren’t I?”

“A bit,” she smiled “It’s okay loser, I know I send mixed signals sometimes, but I was flirting with you all those times before yesterday just so you know” Shit you were really slow.

You leaned in and kissed her “I like you a lot” You broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. You opened your mouth to say, ‘Please be mine’, but nothing came out.

Regina still looked a little nervous "I meant what I said you know, you're mine" She said possessively, she paused and was about to say something else but you cut in.

"I want you Regina, and I want to be yours as well." You declared

She poked fun at your statement "You're so cheesy" and pushed you away slightly and playfully. "Just get in the bed" You stood and lifted the covers and climbed in and let her in as well.

You laid on your back and she was on her side, she looked at you like she was admiring your features. Then you turned to ogle in realization, dumbfounded, "Wait you're my girlfriend now right?"

She flicked your forehead earning an "Ow" from you. She rolled her eyes "Yes loser, and for someone so smart, you're kinda dumbass too"

You grinned wide, "Your dumbass though right?"

The corners of her lips tugged up slightly, showing she enjoyed your small cheesy banter with her "Shut up"

"Fiiine" You inched closer to her and kissed her passionately, "Goodnight Regina" She turned over and you instinctively wrapped your arms around her.

"Goodnight nerd" she said tiredly.

You smirked and mumbled quietly "Your nerd" and you just heard a tsk sound and fell asleep with this beautiful goddess in your arms.

(sorry the bong thing might be a little corny, but the first time i used one, my girlfriend held it for me because i was scared of dropping it)

(heyyyy just wanted to add here at the bottom, that i moved really fast with all the kinky shit and collar stuff. this isn’t a perfect representation of bdsm, so please do your research! [I might rewrite a version of this over on ao3 to be longer so i can better portray that stuff realistically {also it’s because i feel bad}])

[kiss-me-cill-me]

hello! 🤍 i love your writing, you’re very talented <3 if you are up to the idea, i’d like to request a professor!jonathan crane x student!reader fic 🫶🏻 maybe fluff that leads to smut? thank u ily

Hello, anon! You're my very first request ever; this is so exciting! First of all, thank you for being so nice ❤️ And second, I will certainly give it my best shot! I will say that I struggle to write a fluffy Crane, so this might not be exactly what you pictured but I did try to make him a little less... diabolical than I usually would haha. But either way, I hope you enjoy!

Stimulus Response Theory

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Your professor's lesson on classical conditioning leaves you feeling flustered and frustrated, and Crane knows there's only one way to relieve the tension.

Warnings: Smut, slight exhibitionism, power play dynamics, teasing, tickling, manipulation, semi-public sex, established student/teacher relationship

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

“Stimulus. Response. Theory.”

Dr. Crane’s words echoed through the lecture hall, and dozens of students bent to scribble in their notebooks or tap at their keyboards. You, on the other hand, sat in a chair at the front of the room, harsh light blaring into your eyes from the projector as you faced the rows of crowded seats. Crane stood beside you, and brandished something from his breast pocket.

“A very basic concept,” your professor continued. “Wherein there is a stimulus-”

He held up his hand, and you took note of the fluffy, red feather that was firmly pinched between his fingers.

“That, when presented to the subject-”

Crane brought his hand and the feather close to your face, tickling you just at the tip of your nose. You jumped and pulled away, letting out a small, strangled noise. Dr. Crane smiled, but made sure his expression was neutral before turning back to the rest of the class.

“Results in a response,” Crane finished.

He stepped behind you, and you felt your stomach drop, just a fraction of an inch. Not being able to see him made you nervous, but in a pleasant way that had you crossing your legs more than anything else. You shifted a little in the hard plastic seat.

“Stimulus response can explain many basic behaviors,” Crane lectured. “But it is also the basis for what Ivan Pavlov termed ‘classical conditioning’ - through which, a subject can be trained to elicit a response that is normally associated with one stimulus, in response to a second, unrelated trigger.”

A few of the students in the front rows nodded their heads. Everyone had heard of Pavlov, of course; he and his dogs were covered in every Intro to Psych class at every college everywhere. Gotham University was no different, and so most people in Dr. Crane’s class were familiar with the concept. Still, it never hurt to go over the fundamentals before diving into the deeper lesson. At least, that was the excuse Crane had used when he called you up to the front of the room, asking you to help demonstrate something to the class.

Crane stepped back into your field of view, and you looked obediently up at him. Just the sight of him was enough to make your heart pump a little bit faster. Unbeknownst to the rest of the students in the lecture, you had been sleeping with your professor since almost the beginning of the semester. Things had started out innocently enough; you had visited his office hours a few times, asking for help with a lesson at first. Then, quickly, you fell into the habit of stopping by even if you didn’t have a question. And finally, of course, you’d ended up with your lips pressed desperately against his and your shirt thrown carelessly into the corner of the room. Things had only continued from there.

“Classical conditioning is most effective when the response being elicited is one of natural reflex,” Crane explained to the class. “For Pavlov, this was dogs salivating at the sight and smell of their food. For our subject here-” he motioned to you, “brushing this feather against her skin causes her to reflexively flinch.”

He demonstrated again by trailing the red feather along your wrist, which did indeed cause you to jerk back your arm. A few snickers leaked out of the faceless crowd of students.

“Now, when the naturally evocative stimulus is repeatedly paired with a second stimulus, such as the sound of a bell, Pavlov discovered that the response could be ‘transferred’ to that secondary stimulus. So that, eventually, the sound of the bell alone will elicit the same response - even in the absence of the original stimulus. For example…”

Crane tapped the small metal desk bell sitting on the table beside you. The bell rang, and Crane swiftly raked the feather over your arm, making you jump again.

“Now we’ve paired our two stimuli, and as we continue to solidify the link between them in the mind of the subject-”

He rang the bell and tickled you again, this time brushing the feather over your bare leg. You deeply regretted wearing cut-offs. The touch of the feather made you flinch, but, at the same time, you also started to feel a sharp jolt coursing through your core.

“Eventually, the sound of the bell alone will make her react.”

Crane continued lecturing, telling the class about Pavlov’s dogs and other famous examples of conditioning. At somewhat random intervals, he would stop whatever he was doing to ring the bell and brush the feather over various parts of your body. It seemed like he drifted over every inch of your exposed skin; anywhere he could reach. When he dragged it across your jaw, you nearly had to bite your tongue to stop from letting out a gasp. You were starting to enjoy this a bit too much, and realized to your shock that you were getting wet. You shifted in your seat again, hoping that no one else noticed what was happening to you.

“Using these concepts,” Crane said. “Virtually any stimulus can be paired with any other to create a learned response.”

The little bell rang again, and your whole body tensed, jerking in anticipation of the feather even as arousal pooled between your legs. Your face turned hot as the class laughed. Crane hadn’t even touched you.

“As you can see, if the initial relationship between stimulus and reaction is ingrained deeply enough, it doesn’t take very long at all to transfer to the second stimulus.” Crane smiled. 

He was looking down at you, his expression mild. The red feather was tucked away, safely, in his pocket.

“Thank you,” Dr. Crane said, nodding. “You can go back to your seat.”

You got up, feeling a bit shaky on your legs, and made your way back to your desk in the front row. Almost as soon as you’d taken your seat, Crane rang the bell again, making you flinch even though you were now halfway across the room. Even worse, you felt yourself clench desperately at the sound. A few snickers came from the students around you, who sat close enough to see you jump. You watched as Crane’s eyes flicked briefly to your knees, which you were pressing together in a feeble attempt to try and control your reaction. He quickly composed himself, straightening up a little as he changed slides on the projector.

“Now,” he said, returning to his usual place behind the podium that stood next to the table. “Let’s talk about John Watson and his contributions to the theory.”

You tried to focus on taking notes, but couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted again and again to the silver bell, still perched just on the edge of Crane’s reach.

After class, as the other students went about packing up and heading to their next lecture, you shoved your books in your bag and hurried to catch Dr. Crane before he left the room.

“Professor?” you said, timidly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Crane glanced briefly at his watch, then looked up at you with a smile. He stood just in front of the table, the torturous silver bell to his left.

“Of course,” he answered. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, waiting for the last few people in the room to hurry on their way. There was a lump in your throat, and you swallowed against it, trying to press it down. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. Crane had seen you in much more intimate positions than this. But, something about him taunting you in front of a lecture hall full of other people had you feeling bothered, and in more ways than one. He had probably meant it to be harmless. Of course he liked you; it only made sense for him to pick you as his “volunteer” for a simple demonstration like this. He couldn’t have known the effect it would have on you, surely.

“I… um,” you tried to start. 

The two of you were alone now, and you should have been able to spit it out. Still, for some reason your tongue was like dry cotton in your mouth. Your eyes drifted again to the bell, sitting within arm’s reach.

“I’m sorry, but… could you not ask me to volunteer for any more… things like that?” you muttered.

Crane seemed to consider your body language. He noticed the way you refused to look him in the eye, instead focusing on the shiny desk bell. You wrung your hands together, and shifted your weight from hip to hip.

“Is something the matter?” Dr. Crane asked.

“It’s just… it makes me a little uncomfortable,” you explained.

Crane stood close beside you, and reached out to touch the side of your wrist. His fingers were gentle; feather-light. But that only served to make things worse, and you felt yourself start to come dangerously close to unraveling again. If Crane noticed the way you subtly clenched your legs together, he didn’t say anything about it. 

“I’m sorry,” he told you instead. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay!” you blurted out. Suddenly, you were worried you had offended him. “It’s my fault, really. I just…”

His fingers took hold of your wrist a bit more tightly, and he brought your hand up to circle his waist. You leaned into the hug, feeling at once both secure and yet unrestrained with desire as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. You caught a whiff of his cologne, slightly spicy with a hint of smoke. The smell only pulled you that much deeper into your internal battle.

“Just what?” Crane prompted.

“I just… don’t want to get turned on like that in class,” you whispered, embarrassment flooding your cheeks. “It’s bad enough having to listen to you; trying to pay attention when all I can think about is-”

Crane hooked a finger under your chin, pulling back from the hug a bit to make you look up at him. There was a sheen in his eyes that made you nervous, but also caused the heat in your stomach to grow.

“Turned on?” Crane echoed. “Why would you be turned on by what I did?”

The smile at the corners of his mouth told you that Crane knew the answer to his own question. Maybe he wasn’t as innocent in this as you had wanted to think.

“I think it’s just, um… you touching me like that…”

“Oh. Like this?”

Crane pulled the devious red feather back out of his breast pocket. Holding it up to the column of your neck, he dragged it slowly down toward your collarbone.

“Ah!” This time, you couldn’t stifle your gasp. Even though the lecture hall was empty, you still felt a rush of shame and embarrassment. You and Crane had had sex a few times in his office, but always with the door safely locked. Here, everything felt too public. Too exposed. Crane let the feather fall, red plume drifting to the floor.

“Professor…” 

“Hm. I wonder…” Crane mused. 

He reached behind himself to press down on the little bell, still sitting innocently on his desk. At the sound of the ring, you faltered and sank a little closer to him. The mumbled cry that fell from your lips was very unconvincingly muffled.

“Mm.” Crane smiled down at you. “You know, that’s the problem with classical conditioning. It’s just so hard to control all the variables. Sometimes the response is transferred to a secondary stimulus that was never intended, like the sight of the lab assistant who brings the dog’s food instead of the sound of the bell. And sometimes…” He rang the bell again, and you clenched, walls fluttering pathetically around nothing.

“Additional implicit reactions are accidentally transferred,” he finished.

You were feeling dizzy. Barely paying any attention to Crane’s impromptu lesson, all you could focus on was the buzzing heat between your legs. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” Crane smirked. He brought his face close to yours, nose trailing over the curve of your jaw as he whispered to you. “I didn’t know a little teasing would turn you into such a mess.” 

His voice was sweet, even as his words dug into you. He kissed along your jaw, and you felt yourself slump against him. Crane supported your weight effortlessly, shifting his body to lean back against the table so that he could feel you press into him fully. You let out a whimper as he kissed you again, this time pressing his lips to the very corner of your mouth.

“Poor thing,” Crane mused. “Here - let me help you.”

His hands moved down to the backs of your thighs, and before you could say a word he had spun you around and lifted you up on top of the desk. He kissed you, fully on the lips this time, and started to trail his soft fingers up and down your legs. His faint touch against your bare skin was driving you crazy. Usually, he was much more direct - taking what he wanted and not wasting time on too much foreplay. This was different, and all of it was making your head spin. When one of his hands reached the hem at the leg of your shorts, you took in a sharp breath of air.

“W-what are you-?”

“What do you think I'm doing?” he teased. “You said you were turned on, darling. I'm just taking care of that little problem for you.”

His fingers pushed under the hem of your shorts, resting on the top of your thigh. The tight fabric forced him to press into your flesh; pads of his fingers making you squirm under the more intense pressure. You hummed, clenching the edge of the desk.

“Look at you - falling apart when I've barely even touched you,” rasped Crane. “At least, not anywhere that usually makes you this desperate.”

His other hand snaked up to roam under your shirt, drifting over the side of your waist. Your breath hitched.

“I do seem to remember you liked it one time when I touched you here,” he laughed, dark voice sinking into your skin.

His mouth was at your neck, and the hum of his words felt like butterflies. Your whole body shivered, and Crane pressed a burning kiss to your collarbone.

“Mmm, I know you asked me not to volunteer you for any more demonstrations,” Crane said. “But I think if doing it makes you this needy, I might not be able to resist.”

He kissed your neck again, this time biting down softly. You let out a moan as you felt his teeth press into your skin.

“Besides, you wouldn't say no to your professor, right? If he asked you to do something?”

“O-of course not,” you replied. Dr. Crane liked when you were obedient.

“Good. Then I need you to do something for me right now.”

Crane pulled back to look into your eyes. His soft smile made your heart flip in your chest. His lips were red from kissing you, and as he opened them to speak, his deep voice sounded like honey.

“Take off your shorts, and bend over.”

The lump that had been in your throat earlier sank down into your stomach, and then even lower. Crane was still looking back at you, teasing eyes clear and bright behind his glasses. 

“I don't know…” you hesitated. “Here?”

Crane reached over to tap the little silver bell, and the ring sent a pulse straight into your core. It was humiliating how fast he had wrapped you around his finger, without even trying to.

“Don't worry; it'll wear off eventually,” Crane said. “Probably. Permanent conditioning takes much more reinforcement. But for now…”

He rang the bell again, and you jumped. The ache was becoming unbearable, and you knew you couldn't hold out for much longer.

“For now, I'm going to have some fun,” Crane taunted. “Now take off your shorts, darling.”

This time, you hurried to do as he said. You shuffled out of the denim shorts, standing up to let them fall to the floor. As he had ordered earlier, you turned away from him, and bent over the table.

Crane's hands drifted over your hips, coming down to grab at your panties.

“I'm sorry; I should have been more clear.”

Suddenly, he yanked them down, quickly exposing you to the chill of the air.

“I wanted these off, too,” he clarified.

Naked from the waist down, you had a brief moment to consider the situation you now found yourself in. You were facing away from the door, fully on display for him and anyone else who might happen to walk into the classroom. Your professor didn't seem to be too bothered by the idea, as his hand grabbed your ass and pushed your legs open just a bit wider, getting a better view. But then again, maybe he wasn't thinking too clearly right now either. He pushed up your shirt, bunching the fabric so that your back was exposed. You considered asking him to stop so that you could move things to his office, where at least you could lock the door for a little privacy. But any objections you had were forgotten at the rough sound of Crane’s pants zipper. 

You felt him press up against your entrance, gently parting your folds as he dragged the head of his hard cock up and down.

“You really are turned on,” Crane marveled. “And all over a little feather…”

As he spoke, you felt the soft plumes of the feather moving gently over your spine. You tensed again. Crane must have picked it back up when your back was turned, and now he was teasing you, slowly, swirling the feather over the swell of your ass.

“S-stop!” you begged, jerking away from the sensation.

“Do you really want me to?” Crane whispered. “Or are you just embarrassed at how wet I'm making you?”

He lazily trailed the feather over your leg, teasing you with the very tip of the soft red bristles. His cock was still on the verge of penetrating you, and you felt him twitch as your body reacted, bucking against the touch of the feather.

“N-no,” you stammered. “Don't stop.”

“That's what I thought,” Crane smirked. 

He started pressing into you, and the feeling was exactly what you needed. All of his teasing had driven you almost to the edge, and as soon as he was inside of you, you felt yourself inching dangerously closer.

“I should tease you like this more often.” Crane was pulling out of you again, only to slam his hips back into you, making your whole body bounce on the table. “If I'd known I could make you this wet, and this desperate, I would have moved the conditioning lesson up a few weeks.”

He laughed, and you felt yourself melting around him. The drag of his cock was so good as he pulled out, and the snap of his hips made you see stars as he pushed in. When Crane brought the puff of the feather up to trail over the back of your arm, you clenched violently, and he moaned.

The sound seemed to echo in the huge, empty room. Crane stayed still for a moment, buried so deep inside of you that it hurt. Then, he started moving again, this time at a faster pace.

“S-slow down,” you begged.

“Why? So you can beg me to stop teasing you again?” Crane taunted. “You can't have it both ways, sweetheart - try to make up your mind.”

You couldn't, of course. With the way he was pounding into you, the only available space in your brain was completely devoted to him - his perfect, veiny cock, and how it was stretching you out, mercilessly. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the desk, clawing at the smooth faux-wood finish.

“Ah!”

You yelped as Crane rang the bell again, not taking even a small break from thrusting, and for what must have been the dozenth time, you clenched around him.

Between the bell and the feather, your head was spinning. Dimly, you felt certain that Crane had abandoned all actual application of Stimulus Response Theory long ago. He was recklessly using whatever tools there were at his disposal; working you up and making sure that all the wires in your brain were thoroughly and completely crossed. You didn't care though. Whatever made you fall apart for him was fine with you.

“M’so close,” you slurred, fingers curling into the desk.

Crane brought the feather down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the spot that drove you crazy. Just like he had recalled earlier, it made you go nearly feral with lust. That was all you needed to tip over the edge that had been taunting you for so long. As you fluttered all around him, Crane followed right after you.

“Oh my god!” you cried, not caring anymore that you were still in the classroom.

Crane's shallow moans and grunts behind you were enough to make you squeeze him again, milking his cock as it emptied into you.

“Oh my god,” you repeated, a little quieter now as the reality of what you had just done sank in.

“I’ll say. That was… intense,” Crane laughed.

He pulled out of you, and you felt his seed drip down the inside of your thigh. You saw him scrambling for something to help you clean up with as you turned around, still needing to lean against the table for support.

“Here.”

He offered you a clump of napkins, scavenged from somewhere deep inside the speaker’s podium. You stuffed them quickly between your legs, trying to wipe up the sticky trails of cum that had already started to snake down. After you'd cleaned up a bit, Dr. Crane leaned forward to kiss you.

His lips still had a hint of the hunger that had passed between you. The feel of them pressed against yours, faint trace of saliva reminding you of the barely-faded passion, made you woozy all over again. He had to hold you to stop you from sinking down onto the table.

“I'd say that was rather stimulating, wouldn't you?” Crane joked.

You felt your face heat up, and he brought his thumb softly to trail across the edge of your jaw. Inside, you could still feel the proof of his lust leaking slowly out of you, and the tickling sensation made you flinch.

“I think… I liked that a little too much,” you admitted.

Your professor smiled down at you, taking in your shy face before bringing his lips close to yours for another, sinful kiss. You felt him smile against you as he whispered.

“I think you did, too.”

Deviously, Crane reached behind you to ring the little silver bell.

This fic now has a Part 2 HERE!

[lover-of-mine]

I'm here to argue my case about how Eddie fell first and has in fact been semi-aware of his feelings since season 3 and it's currently dealing with the way he thinks he'll have to be the best man on Buck's wedding. So sit down, buckle up, grab your delusional drink of choice (today I'm drinking my delusional tea lol), and let's go.

Okay, given season 6 information, we know Buck and Eddie are roughly the same age and we know Eddie was pursued by Bobby and Bobby wanted a partner for Buck (unrelated but Bobby so hoped the military guy would balance out Buck and for a while there he ended up with two very impulsive firefighters and he definitely had a few what the hell have I done moments lol) so it's kinda safe to assume that Buck was one of the selling points of the 118 because Buck is a very competent firefighter and they would be on the same shift. So Eddie went in with the expectation of someone his age he could befriend. I'm making some assumptions but the internet tells me the academy takes a year, we know Eddie still doesn't have a permanent childcare plan, so this man is interacting outside of the academy exclusively with his 7 yo, his abuela, and tia for a year, so I think that the idea of having a friend his own age was appealing to him. Especially after the army and Shannon leaving him. So much so that with his sharp edges, you can actually read things like "I'd go lower" or "you're in the wrong light, man" as attempts to create a bond, very awkward I haven't tried to make friends in forever attempts but attempts nonetheless because he's trying to be helpful. Buck is being Buck, but even Eddie says I hear you're a good guy, so dude is trying to understand what's happening, what's setting Buck off, and while he matches Buck's energy after the gym conversation, he actually continues to try and bond with Buck with the thing that actually works and the "you're badass under pressure" that is still another attempt to get through to Buck. I have various theories about the way Eddie keeps trying to start something, the one I like the most and the most painful one is about how Eddie has had the weight of the world on his shoulders forever. And he had to grow up really fast, and then there is Buck annoying him about nicknames and discussing his body fat percentage, and with all that really carefree energy season 1 and beginning of season 2 Buck had that he probably wanted to know what it felt like. But Buck is Buck and Buck also wanted a friend so dude imprinted on Eddie like a baby duck. But Eddie doesn't mind, like before Bobby comes in to say who got the spot on the calendar, Eddie looks amused by Buck not annoyed. But up until now, that's casual. They're coworkers.

Then we have the earthquake. We know Christopher is Eddie's whole world and he's very careful about the people he lets into their life, considering the earthquake happened on Maddie's first day on the floor and she must've had some sort of training before that, it's safe to assume that Eddie didn't mention Chris at the firehouse for at least a few weeks and he is very hesitant to tell Buck about him, but again Buck is Buck and he switches into reassurance mode and that's when Eddie actually lets him in. I actually would love it if we had an explanation as to why Buck drove Eddie to Chris' school after the shift, but it's something that he went from being hesitant to even mention he existed to introducing Buck to him. But then we have the moment Buck becomes his ride-or-die, you imprinted on me but now I'm hanging on to you, with the whole going to the hospital with him because of abuela and also the way that Buck clears Chris staying at the firehouse before Eddie thinks to do it.

This moment right here it's what gets Eddie. He's ready to apologize and justify and he doesn't have to because Buck stepped up to do something simply because he realized Eddie needed help and he could do something about it. Eddie is doing everything alone and he needs help but he doesn't know how or who to ask for it and Buck just steps in and does it before he needs to ask. And then there's Carla. Buck tricks him into showing up and literally hands him the solution to his problems because Buck knows Eddie wouldn't accept it if Buck had said what that was about beforehand, but at no point does Buck make it seem like Eddie is a bad parent for needing help. And I think with the whole thing with his parents trying to take Chris from him, that really does something.

I really like to use the second gif here as a major example of Eddie's heart eyes for Buck, but the first one, when he realizes who Carla is and what she can give him completely changes his demeanor. He was ready to be polite, was probably trying to figure out a way out without saying he was still married, but instead, Buck does something that not only makes Eddie's life easier but makes Christopher's exponentially better. And right then, Eddie is done for. I'm not saying he fell in love with Buck here, I'm just saying right here is when Eddie goes you're stuck with me now dude, and let his guard down with Buck, as much as this Eddie can at least. That's when something starts for him. You can't change my mind on this one. But for now, there's the Shannon of it all, because Eddie does love Shannon but their relationship is beyond complicated. 

But Buck is still constant through Shannon and I think that's important, actually, because Eddie is having trouble trusting Shannon and I feel like having Buck around helps him not go straight to the worst-case scenario all the time. I don't have a point in mentioning this, it's just a clear show of how much Eddie already trusts Buck, but to have Buck go with him to take Chris to see Santa is so wild. Who takes their best friend to see Santa with their kid? Like, what?? But Isn't it interesting that Eddie decides to propose again after Buck asks when is the wedding? I find that fascinating really. Then Shannon dies, Buck almost dies, dude goes into move past it mode but the seed is there. Forever thinking about the wistful shot of Eddie saying almost after Hen says things are back to the way they should be. Something else about the finale it's that it's the first in the list of irrationality moments from Eddie regarding Buck. Eddie is a firefighter, he's objectively stronger than Chimney, so the logical thing to be done is to have Eddie helping lift the truck and Chim treating Buck. But no, at that moment he's a medic who's there to hold Buck's hand. He's just holding Buck's hand. He could've left Buck with Hen and go help lift the truck. But no, he's staying by Buck's side.

But season 3 is when things HAPPEN. We start out strong with the sheer excitement on Eddie's face that Buck is going back to work. Then the way Eddie just hands Christopher over to Buck without a single worry. "Oh, you're falling apart? Here's a kid, he will help" and just goes. We focus a lot on Buck's reaction to them finding Chris because it is what the show wants us to focus, this is the moment Buck looks at Chris and goes "shit I really love that kid" but Eddie looking back at Buck as he holds Chris is interesting. Eddie just went through 30 seconds (actually it's 1 minute 4 seconds from the moment Eddie notices Buck to Eddie having Chris in his arms not that it matters) of the worst possible moments in a parent's life and I guess, since Buck didn't have Chris, and Buck was too shaken to explain what had happened, he assumed Buck lost Chris during the first wave and he's looking back because he's shocked he saved not only himself but Chris from the wave, but from his focus to shift to Buck like that it's interesting. Even more, considering the way he barges into the loft to hand Chris over again. "There's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you" I'm sorry, there's no platonic explanation for the wording of this, okay? This is a man who looked at his honest to god wife, the mother of his child, and said "I can forgive you, I'm just not sure I can trust you" and trust is always the thing Eddie struggles with. To trust someone with Christopher is Eddie's ultimate show of love because it's what makes sense with his character, he is loyal until it kills him but nothing goes above Christopher. Also, Mr. Kids are signs hands over his own child to someone and I'm not supposed to look at that and go "huh wonder what he's feeling"? And there's the lawsuit of it all. Eddie gets that mad because he misses Buck and has no idea what to do with it. Because he got used to being a priority to Buck and he cannot handle the idea that maybe he's not. He's struggling, Chris is struggling and he needs Buck to do the thing he does where he fixes the problem without Eddie having to ask. But Buck has no real responsibility to Eddie or Chris, you can't really expect your best friend to base his life decisions on what's best for you. But it is the expectation Eddie has. He needs Buck to consider him. He needs Buck to be there for him no matter what. And at this point, when he's screaming at Buck as if they are a divorced couple, he's aware of something. He's definitely aware of something he doesn't want to look too closely at. 

Because being left by Buck leaves him completely off balance. And since Eddie is famous for not dealing with the shit he's feeling, things keep escalating because anger it's easier. Anger he can deal with. But in the end, he just wants Buck back so he forgives him the second he lets Buck speak. Because he wants the Buck that looks right through him, he wants what they have back. And he doesn't hesitate once he does. There are definitely some lingering feelings about how he kept pushing Shannon away and then she died and he "lost" time he could've had if he had let her in after he sought her out, so when Buck apologizes he just goes let's go team and moves on because tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. 

But I think there's something important to take into consideration, that it's Eddie's therapy session. He talks about not feeling anything, good or bad, and the his feelings are boxed thing and how he doesn't know what to do with them and yes, that comes back into play later, but it is important that Eddie doesn't name his feelings and he consistently tries to box them and move past them instead of feeling them, and it gets to a point where he's doing this even to positive things. So he is not looking too closely as to why missing Buck throws him off balance. He's all let's go back to the way things were and they do. Forever seeking for a heterosexual explanation to the kitchen scene in 3x09 but I also do think there are different types of tension between them there. Because while Buck is teasingly trying to get Eddie to admit on what had happened and how Buck's absence was a trigger for Eddie's fight club era in his flirty way of his, Eddie is trying to make him stop talking in a real "man don't make me look at what happened too closely" because he doesn't know what he'll find. Or if he's ready to find it. Considering the whole widower who never processed a big emotion in a healthy way he has going on there. But Buck is a really steady presence in Eddie's life, and Buck does his best to not put them in the lawsuit situation again, he's around, he's helping Eddie with parenting issues and then we have the well.

The well is a pivotal moment. Not just because of the sheer amount of Buck in Eddie's I need to keep fighting montage and the way Buck is acting above the ground, but because of the way Eddie changes his will after that and chooses to hide the fact that he did. Eddie has parents who are more than willing to raise Christopher, he has sisters, he has a lot of blood relatives that he could assign as Chris' guardians if something happens, but he chooses Buck. He chooses a firefighter, who is not only a firefighter, it's also his partner so if Eddie ends up in a life-threatening situation, Buck will probably be there too, so it's not the biggest safeguard. Buck is also single and without kids of his own. He also has known Buck for what? 2 years at that point? Eddie's lawyer probably stared at Eddie in disbelief when Eddie explained the situation. But the real thing about the will is that Eddie doesn't talk about it. Dude had some revelations while under all that mud because the only reason he wouldn't tell Buck is if he couldn't tell Buck without talking about himself. That's the only explanation for why he would hide it. Because Buck would ask why him, why now, like he did when Eddie did finally tell him, but right then Eddie can't shift the focus back to Buck. But there's a very subtle change in the way Eddie acts around Buck after the well. And again, sure, you can play off Eddie's reaction to when Buck wants to do something dangerous as he needs Buck to stay alive, but you can't really apply that logic to the way Eddie acts about Abby. Like, Eddie is petty to girls who want Buck, that's a fact. And Eddie is petty about Abby, but he also gets unsure about his place in Buck's life when he sees Buck's reaction to seeing Abby. And they focus on Eddie there. We get Eddie's reaction to that interaction. That means something.

We get Eddie legit feeling insecure about his place in Buck's life over the fact that Abby is there. And Eddie knows Abby as this entity, the one that got away, the person responsible for Buck being the way he is, because that's the way Abby is talked about, and sure, if I was in Eddie's shoes, only seeing the damage someone did to my best friend and then have them risking their life because of whatever lingering feelings are still there, I would also reserve myself the right to hate them, but it's more than that. Like, the way he backs away from the both of them once Buck goes into protector mode.

"Abby, His fiancée's Abby." *stomps away*. Absolutely insane interactions happen there that paint Buck as still hung up on Abby, even more after the whole thing with Red, but if you look at it with the right lenses, it paints Eddie as jealous of the way Buck is willing to put himself in danger to keep someone who broke him happy.

Every reaction from Eddie in the train wreck feels so calculated to give this idea that he's unsure of his place in Buck's life. His face when he realizes who he's talking to, his hand hovering over Buck's shoulder like he wants to comfort him but doesn't know if he can, the way he looks at Buck after Abby and Sam are in the ambulance. He's completely off balance at the sight of the ghost of Buck's great lost love and I'm supposed to believe that man is just experiencing platonic friendship feelings about his best friend? Come on. 

Season 4 is complicated. Because of the Ana and Taylor of it all. They do have the easy banter, Eddie being someone Buck can rely on during the whole mess with his parents, a few scenes of Buck completely comfortable in Eddie's space and Eddie just moving around him like he's meant to be there, but we know the Ana of it all happens because of external pressure. Eddie thinks he needs to date, so he grabs onto the first woman he can. The way his whole body relaxes when he realizes Christopher is with Buck is actually insane. But even though he's dating, he's holding on to Buck in a way. Absolutely obsessed with how much he hates Taylor. Dude legit looks like he's fantasizing about running her over with the fire engine while watching Buck and Taylor interact making Buck ignore him. 

But then Eddie gets shot. Say whatever the fuck you want Eddie reached for Buck. He thought he was dying. And he reached for Buck.

Eddie's been aware of something he doesn't want to look at too closely since the lawsuit that became harder to ignore after the well that he became fully aware of when he got shot. I know that what we have now says Eddie doesn't remember the shooting but wouldn't it be beautiful if he lied because he can't say what he remembers because everything he remembers is about Buck? The dramatic effect of I'm lying to you because I realized I loved you then but I can't tell you that now? Ugh. Anyway, Eddie got shot, things fell into place when he hit the ground, terrible place to have an oh! moment though. Dude just got shot, he's bleeding out, and the thing he gathers the rest of his energy is to ask if Buck is hurt. Sure, you can look at that as I think I'm dying so one of us has to make it home to Chris, but the possibility of it being an I love you I need to know you're okay before this kills me it's there. But he doesn't die. And when he wakes up Buck tells him it would've been better if he had been shot. You can see it on Eddie's face that he kept rehearsing what he was going to say about the will. Something else is the way that Ali takes Buck home after the truck so it would honestly make sense if Ana took Eddie home but he probably asked Buck to do it. That scene feels like an aborted love confession. "You act like you're expendable but you're wrong" the way he's saying you're not spare parts, you're not less important, you matter so much to me. Eddie knows Buck, he knows Buck associates love with pain. He wouldn't actually say something after he almost died, but it feels like he's working up to something. Sure he needs to break up with Ana, but there's time before he heals and can just, do something about it. But then Taylor fucking Kelly is in his welcome home party. He knew Buck and Taylor were working up to something. He knows Taylor being there means it happened. A violent reminder that Buck is straight (debatable) and doesn't feel the same (also debatable). So back to safety, he goes. 

I need to know who decided that having this particular look when they are literally talking about how Eddie is about to meet Ana's whole family was the way to go.

Also, can you believe Eddie needed Buck's approval to break up with the girlfriend he didn't even want to date anyway?

Season 5 is complicated because of Eddie's PTSD, 5A has a lot of Eddie pulling away because of the way he knew when the dam broke it wouldn't be pretty and he didn't want to take down anyone with him. But even when we see Eddie out of the job, we see him making an effort to include Buck and Taylor so Buck would know that he really did mean the whole "you're stuck with us" thing. I can talk about 5x11 to 5x14 and the implications of it to buddie for days, really, (you can read this for some of those thoughts), but the thing here I guess, it's a lot about how when the box exploded, the feelings are all over the place, Eddie sits back and lets Buck in. He talks about the way he's feeling in a way we don't really see Eddie do all that often and he leans on Buck through his recovery and the process of finding out how to not feel like there's no hope for himself and how to feel comfortable in his own skin again. And it's a lot about Buck and the way Buck is constant. Eddie feels like Buck is this steady presence in his life that can and does help Eddie move forward.

But the thing is, the shooting happened, Eddie realized things, Taylor Kelly (derogatory) happened, Taylor Kelly (derogatory) took herself out of the running, Eddie now has the tools to deal with his own emotions, he's single, Buck's single, they're having dinner with Chris at Buck's loft and Eddie is asking Buck about things Chris kept from him, but Eddie is in a fantasy bubble where he can pretend he has the things he wants without actually asking for anything to change. I mean, post therapy Eddie is better with his feelings, but he's still Eddie. He was in his little I have time bubble. That was violently popped. Because Buck died. And he had to save him. "Do more" is such a desperate thing for a first responder and former combat medic to scream at a team of doctors. He knows they always do the best they can. He did the best he could, but there's only so far he can go. The way he follows the gurney hurts me in so many ways. Some real don't go where I can't follow bullshit.

This is a man who watched Buck almost die multiple times. But this is also a man who never contemplated the possibility of Buck actually dying. The thing that drives me crazy about Eddie and everything surrounding Buck's death is that he can't look at it. He can't take his eyes off him, but once he's out of his sight he can't look at him again. He spends the whole time not looking at Buck. He looks away every time someone mentions it. Even when he's in the room with Chris he's not looking. 3 minutes 17 seconds. Look, this number bothers me. Bobby said they were 3 minutes out from the hospital and that it took 3 minutes to start compressions. So Buck was dead for 6 minutes. The rescue took 3 minutes. And Eddie counted. That's the only explanation for this particular number. He counted how long it took to get Buck to Chim and Hen and in the ambulance ready to go.

But Eddie was living comfortably in his bubble, I don't think he was at peace with it, but I do think he accepted it. But Buck wakes up, Buck seeks him out to help deal with the trauma. They look like a family, they act like a family, maybe it's not hopeless after all. Maybe Buck can feel the same and they can talk about it once Buck is not feeling so raw over his own death. Buck is just there all the time, something like that can't be one-sided, can it? But then Buck pulls the rug from under him. I made a very long post about the cemetery, you can read that one if you want, but the thing about that conversation is that it is a reminder that they are not on the same page. Because Buck throws him off balance again, considering the way Eddie was trying his hardest to be there for Buck just for Buck to say he's getting what he wants from a random woman he met a few days before. And it makes Eddie back away so he won't end up hurting his own feelings more. I think at this point Eddie has accepted the fact that he's going to have to be Buck's best man and is trying to find a way to be okay with it. So he's retreating to familiarity again. It explains why he's trying to recreate what he had with Shannon because he loved Shannon, so maybe if he found that again he wouldn't have to cut Buck off to move on. Because he needs Buck on some level but there is a limit on how much he can take while Buck goes around looking for something he already has.

And yes I talked and talked and talked but why does this mean Eddie fell first? Well, Buck will never figure it out on his own. The thing about Buck is that Buck doesn’t know what healthy love is. He thinks love is work, but in a it’s bleeding himself dry for someone way. He thinks love is pain. Eddie is safety. Eddie is home. He never knew home as a place where he can find love.

This is all for today. If you read this I love you. Also the doc I typed it out says it has over 4.3k words so this is long as fuck congratulations for sticking through it 🩷

[ohdeerfully]

HEYY HIII i finally gave some attention to this fic! this will be the final part, so i wrote in some semi sweet fluffiness between reader and al <3 kisses kisses hugs love you all!

Your Half of the Deal (iii)(Final)

Alastor x Reader

part i part ii part iii

TW: kidnapping, violence, alastor ooc probably... oh whale

join my discord!

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You had lost track of the time spent in that room, a near constant headache thrumming in your head due to the deep bass that you now knew resonated from the club just beyond the door. Every now and then you would recognize the faint tune of a familiar pop song—Angel often took you out to bars to escape from the Hotel—and let yourself enjoy the recognition, humming along. It was truly the only thing you could do with yourself.

You humored yourself with the thought of who your knight in shining armor may be, if one ever came. Would it be Alastor? Finally holding up his half of your soul bargain? Or maybe even Angel, stumbling across you in a bender with Cherri? Or even an unrelated third party that wouldn’t even recognize you; surely the Vee’s have made enough enemies to warrant somebody saving you just to get back at them. No matter who crossed your mind, you couldn’t get your hopes up. You were certain it hadn’t been days in here, but it had been long enough that you were starting to convince yourself nobody was coming.

You may just have to save yourself.

Due to the constant struggle against the metal restraints that chained you to the bed, your wrists had begun to blister and scab, sending dull waves of sensitive pain through your arms. Vox often visited, putting on a face of care and concern, but you knew better than to trust him. All Overlords had to be manipulative to get their way, and Vox was no exception—in fact, he may just be the worst of the worst (not including Alastor). He offered various times to help you dress the wounds on your arms, but you returned his gestures by hissing insults and lunging for that oversized television he had for a head. He kept trying, though, and each attempt at playing nice made you feel all the more crazy and violent. 

Speak of the devil, you thought with a frown as the door opened, briefly casting multicolored lights and a blare of loud music into the room before it was quickly silenced by the click of the door closing again. You subconsciously leaned towards the exit, desperately wanting to escape.

The tall, flat-faced demon strode in, head held high with, in your opinion, undeserved confidence. He was a coward. You fucking hated cowards. You let your lips curl into a sneer as he stopped a foot away from you, peering down with his own curled smirk. 

“You’ll get an infection,” Vox referred to your wrists. This shit again? You clenched your fists. “Please, let me treat them. It’s the least I could–”

“Man fuck off with that shit!” You snapped, leaning forward. You bared your fangs at him, tail lashing. “The least you could do is let me the fuck out! I’m fuckin’ hungry!”

Vox’s smile grew wider, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He took a breath in through his teeth, trying to remain polite. He sat down next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight. You took extreme care to not let yourself fall towards him from the unexpected shift.

Despite every bone in your body wanting to lunge in attack like usual, you held back. Truthfully you knew it was futile, you just enjoyed the rush you got from just trying to fight back. This time, though, you wanted to see if you could get any information about your current situation out of him. Maybe it would help you escape.

“You know we can’t let you out,” He said in a condescendingly sweet tone. He reached a hand out and placed it on your shoulder, digging his claws into your shirt and nearly into your skin when you tried to jerk away. You got the hint. “What better way to get to that out-dated Overlord than taking away his favorite toy?”

“I’m not a toy,” You said through clenched teeth. While you doubted this fact yourself, you would never admit it. Not to Vox. The smile he gave you in return was akin to an adult looking down on a naive child. It made your blood boil, and the internal battle you were having to not fly into attack mode was getting harder and harder. All the while you were talking, you kept analyzing him, looking for any semblance to a key, or anything that may serve as a lockpick. Whether to your restraints or even to the door, either would bring you one step closer to getting out. 

There was no doubt he recognized what you were doing—he was an Overlord, not a fool. Maybe he didn’t expect you to be much of a challenge, or to get very far, as he made no move to avert your prying eyes. If anything, it was like he was asking you to try, what with the way he shifted in such a way that you noticed the slight imprint of a key in his pocket. You tried your best to act indifferent. How the hell were you going to get that?

“Could you at least let me out for a moment to piss?” You kept up the attitude, but slumped your shoulders to look defeated and averted your eyes to the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his smile grow, a cheshire-like grin as if he was watching a mouse play right into his trap. And you didn’t doubt you were, Vox would never be so careless as to reveal the presence of a key unless it was on purpose. It didn’t matter to you, though, because you resolved to just be stronger than he expected you to be. He was underestimating you.

“Oh, but of course! No wonder you’ve been so snippy,” He joked, idly picking up the chain that was attached to the wall with a finger as he spoke. He shifted his hand over towards your wrists, gripping them just barely hard enough to send a wave of sensitive pain through your hand. You grit your teeth and bore back any recognition of the pain as he continued to fiddle with your chains.

He produced a key from his coat pocket. This must mean that the key in his pants pocket was for the door… which, if everything goes fine, would be perfect. Without your restraints, you only had to worry about getting the fuck out of here.

Relief swelled through your wrists when the clasps fell away from your skin, fresh air soothing your raw skin. You allowed yourself a second to tenderly press your fingers against the blisters, wincing at the sting it caused. You shook your hands out in front of you and stood, watching Vox out of the corner of your eye. He stood and offered his arm to you; although, you knew it was less of an offer and more of a command. He wouldn’t let you out of here if he couldn’t hold on to you.

You slowly slipped your arm through the curve of his elbow, linking yourself to him. You allowed yourself to mentally vomit at the contact, but held your expression steady and calm as he led you out. Maybe causing a scene in public will help? Honestly doubtful—you were in Hell, after all, and demons were much too intimidated by the technology Overlord. Maybe someone you know will just so happen to be here?

Thoughts and plans raced through your mind, but none seemed plausible. At this point, you thought it was just best to throw yourself at him even if it got you nowhere. It might do you good to get some energy out at the very least. 

Your senses were immediately overwhelmed when he opened the door; bright, flashing neon lights and the deep booming bass of music swamped over you. You were no stranger to this type of scene, but after being locked up in a deathly quiet room for some time… a headache was quick to come.

Swiftly taking in the scene before you, you desperately searched for some semblance of familiarity within the sea of people as Vox led you against the wall towards the restroom. You didn’t see anybody that you knew, but caught a few curious eyes, no doubt over the fact that you were basically holding Vox’s hand. You wished you could cast out some mental signal that you did not want to be this close to the Overlord and beg demons not to get the wrong idea. 

Your attention was brought back when Vox’s arm fell away from yours, and you realized you were standing in front of the restroom. You cast him a quick look before quickly dashing into the room, thankful to finally have a chance away from him without shackles on your arms. You rested your hands on the lip of the sink, heaving a shaky breath and looking absently at the drain, tracing the pattern of the speckles of undrained water that clung to the porcelain. You tried not to let it get to you, especially not in his presence, but being so close to the Technology Overlord made every nerve in your body blaze with anxiety.

Flipping the faucet on, you let the lukewarm water run over your bruised wrists. Times like this you wished Hell had the convenience of cold tapwater, but the water nevertheless did the job of soothing your skin. You watched the water blankly for a minute, mind lost in thought over your situation. The gentle warmth of the water almost sent you into a trancelike state, and you were likely to get stuck there for a few moments just enjoying it if it wasn’t for a loud banging at the door and an impatient voice calling for you. You snapped back a retort about him rushing you, but you still turned off the faucet and dried your hands.

With a quick glance at yourself in the mirror, you gave yourself a resolute and firm look before leaving the restroom. You could do this.

You flung open the door, not taking time to observe Vox’s somewhat surprised look as his fist was still raised to continue knocking on the door. You made a mad dash past him, ducking under claws that swung at your shirt collar in an attempt to yank you back. 

“Fuck- fucking get back here!” You heard him snarl from behind you, voice unnaturally louder than the music that boomed in the room. It was as if he just… commanded the music to be quieter so he could project his own, overpowering voice. Though you knew, as the Technology Overlord, that was most likely in his limit of power, you still couldn’t help the cold feeling that the uncanny experience sent in your bones. You kept running, ignoring the shouts of curiosity from the crowd at the whole ordeal.

A strong arm wrapped around your neck, bringing you close to somebody’s chest. The sudden change of momentum and pressure on your throat made you sputter momentarily for air, but it didn’t take long for you to come to and realize how fucked you were.

“Vox! Ova’ here!” The demon who held you tightly shouted, and you managed to just barely catch sight of his face. His smile was huge and toothy, a pleased look glimmering in his eyes. He fiercely waved his hand in the air.

“You gross, good for nothing fanboy!” You cried, struggling in his grip. You brought your hands up to his burly arm and dug your claws as much as possible into his skin, yanking down and shredding his skin. He kicked you away with a pained yelp, snarling some curses at you as he nursed his arms and slunk back in the crowd, of which had formed a large circle around the two of you, undoubtedly to the bar to lick his wounds. You stood, preparing to run, but… You realized it was too late.

Vox cleared his throat behind you. He had no need to grab you—you both knew running would be futile at this point. You tightened your lips together in a grimace and clenched your fists. What would you do now? 

Fuck it, and, just like you had when you first came across him, you lunged at him. Though, this time you went lower, hurling yourself into his stomach. He stumbled just enough to give you time to send a frenzy of claws across his body, scratching anything that came within reach of you. You gripped his leg and yanked up, toppling him over before you ran once again.

You didn’t get far before something curled over your ankle, twisting around the limb and tripping you. You fell to your hands with a loud ‘fuck’ before shooting your eyes to see what the culprit was—a thin wire twisted up your leg, digging harder and harder into your skin as the seconds past. Every attempt you made seemed futile to rid yourself of Vox, and you had to bite back a cry of frustration.

“Pets don’t get far without their leash,” He spat distastefully at you. A line of blood fell from his mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in yourself for making Vox feel some pain, even if the blood on his face was just a display of light.

Vox walked closer, his height sending an ominous shade over your downed body. You didn’t let yourself tremble, though you wanted to, because you truly had nowhere to go from here; you couldn’t let him know that you were afraid. You would keep fighting him, no matter what, even if it would kill you. If you weren’t going to escape this shit, you would die trying. In your frenzied mindset, you didn’t notice the growing sensation of static that prickled against your skin.

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Alastor stood in front of the club, ears flat against his head in an attempt to block out the blaring music that he could already hear from outside the doors. He abhorred places like this, finding them distasteful and a disgrace to the clubs that he frequented back in his day. Of course, he had to get over himself in that regard—finding and saving you from the grasps of that nasty TV head was more important.

His shadow had returned to him a few hours after he left the Vees’ residence, having seen Vox himself entering the club through a back entrance. He had wasted no time in making his way there, ignoring the painful thrumming of his heart and the twisting feeling his stomach made. 

With a twirl of his cane and quick adjustment to his bowtie, he made his way in, melting into his shadow to slip in the crack of the same back door his shadow had seen. When inside, he found himself in a somewhat desolate corner of the club, his ears twitching uncomfortably at the sound of the music, louder now that he was inside. He swept his red eyes across the huge room, trying to see past the swarm of demons.

A light pressure on his shoulder, which he quickly recognized came from his shadow, urged his attention towards a room just to the left of the back entrance. The door was cracked open, and he slunk towards the door, peeking in before entering to ensure nobody was there.

The room immediately sent a wave of some uncomfortably intense emotion through him, though he wasn’t quite sure what—fury, maybe?—because the room smelled just like you. His nostrils flared and his eyes immediately narrowed at the realization, and the stick of his cane creaked from the grip he held on it. He didn’t fully understand why the hint of your presence after your absence made him feel so strongly, but he did know that he was pissed, the feeling of which was only increased tenfold when he saw the shackles that lay ominously barren on the bed.

He swiftly left the room, not caring if the slamming of the door brought any attention to him. It didn’t, though, and he quickly realized that a commotion on the other side of the club had already drawn the attention of everyone. A voice—no, your voice shouted something, and another wave of that fury coursed through Alastor’s veins. He quickly moved forward, shoving through the crowd. Demons began noticing his presence as he pushed, and space was being made for him to move through.

Though he wanted nothing more than to simply tear Vox apart, Alastor quickly gained composure and stepped out from the crowd into the wide berth that had formed around Vox and you. 

Alastor met your gaze for a brief moment, noting how thrilled you looked to see him and quickly sweeping his eyes over your body and analyzing your condition. His smile curled up in a light snarl when he saw the wire that twisted around your leg. How dare that flat-faced Overlord touch what belonged to Alastor?

He turned his head towards said Overlord, whose face was lit with a multitude of different emotions. Alastor could tell his breathing was coming rapidly, and whether it was due to excitement, fear, or even both, Alastor didn’t know nor did he truly care. All he saw was a pathetic demon before him who took something that wasn’t his.

“My old friend!” Alastor exclaimed with fake friendliness, a smile lighting up his face as his arms stretched up and wide. He stepped towards Vox, an ominous shadow forming under his feet as he walked. Tiny tendrils of flame licked up from the manifesting power as Alastor purposefully made an attempt to intimidate Vox into submission. There was intense bloodlust in his veins, but he was less inclined to create a scene with another Overlord than just getting out of here with you. Plus, despite Vox’s obsession with defeating Alastor, the other two Vee’s really kept out of the feud… Alastor didn’t want to draw the attention of them as well.

Vox didn’t yield, though, and he also began walking towards Alastor, though his body language was much less friendly. His shoulders were high and tense and his claws curled into fists, a frown flickering onto the screen of his face. The two stopped just a foot from each other, and the energy in the room crackled dangerously. The music had stopped, and the crowd of demons had begun slinking out of the club, deathly quiet so as to not draw the attention from the Overlords. This wasn’t particularly necessary, though, as they watched each other with equally unyielding iron stares.

Alastor allowed one more look at you when he heard you weakly say his name. Maybe the sight of him brought you enough relief to finally let exhaustion overcome your body, because you had lost all will to fight. When he saw just how pitiful you looked, how extremely exhausted you were, he didn’t care to hold back anymore.

“I don’t let thieves get away for long,” Alastor said, his voice low and filled with static. He felt the weight of his horns as they expanded while his limbs grew unnaturally, allowing him to tower in height over Vox. In response, tendrils of wire began sprouting from Vox’s body, as well as dangling from the ceiling, poised to attack. “Somebody should’ve taught you some manners on property.”

“We’re in Hell, genius,” Vox growled back. There was an almost ecstatic look in his eyes, but his voice sounded rushed and frantic. “I know you’re old, but come on! How do you forget that?”

Alastor didn’t grace Vox with a response, an inky black spear of shadow shooting from the pool that had been forming underneath Alastor’s feet. It stabbed into Vox’s leg, who couldn’t react in time, but he stood his ground still and threw his own wave of tendrils at Alastor in return. Alastor was quick to move out of the way of the piercing wire, but he wasn’t able to avoid the three that came from above and wrapped around his torso, lifting him nearly a foot off the ground. His red eyes were steadfast of Vox, and he didn’t bother to struggle against the wire. Vox brought him closer, face inches away from Alastor’s own.

“Somebody should’ve taught you about knowing your place! You outdated–” Vox had let his guard down, if only for a moment, and Alastor took that chance. His arm surged forward and through Vox’s face, shattering the glass display. The screen immediately went black, save for the flashes of glitching display lights as the sound of his voice was cut short, replaced by unintelligible buzzing and zapping. Alastor withdrew his hand, bleeding lightly from the glass and metal, and quickly caught his balance when the wires around his torso slackened, dropping him.

Alastor easily stepped to the side as Vox’s twitching body fell to its knees and then forward, the flat screen slamming into the ground with an almost comical slap. The radio demon looked down at it for a few seconds, the corners of his smile curling in a displeased sneer. He truly wanted to avoid getting physical. Vox wasn’t dead, Alastor knew better than to get his hopes up, but his ego would certainly be bruised.

His attention was drawn away from the body, still jerking and sparking, when he heard you softly call for him. He turned on his heel, positioning his hands over his cane to lean and look down at you. You were looking up at him, picking yourself up from the sticky club floor to sit on your knees. He couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering over your haggard appearance, especially the raw, blistering skin of your wrists.

Maybe it was how pitiful you looked, peering up at him like an abandoned kitten, your eyes glazed with a mixture of tears and exhaustion, but something in Alastor urged him to swoop down and hold you in his arms. He was able to fight himself for just a brief moment, but the overwhelming sensation of relief eventually got the best of him.

A cautious step forward, an uncertain glance over your expression, another step, pause… before he finally knelt down in front of you. He looked into your eyes, searching—for what he didn’t really know—before his arms slowly slid under yours, wrapping against the dip of your waist and gently pulling you towards himself. For now he was acting without much thought, doing something he never thought himself capable of. And, strangely enough, you reciprocated the gesture. Why was his heart swelling so much as he felt you tying your own arms around his neck? 

It was silent for some time, the club long abandoned from the confrontation with the TV demon. The tender embrace the two of you shared in a rather unconventional place was likely going to be brushed under the rug, forced to be forgotten; you both knew this fact, so maybe that’s why Alastor was letting it draw on for so long. He himself didn’t understand why he enjoyed the feeling.

“Thank you,” you started slowly, afraid to break the silence. You worried that calling attention back to reality would make Alastor shove you away and walk you home like nothing happened. When he made to move to do so, you continued. “For… saving me. I really appreciate it.”

“I couldn’t leave you in the hands of that pompous Overlord,” Alastor responded matter-of-factly. Though, you did notice the sudden lack of radio ambience in his voice. You bit back the thought of making any sort of joke about him actually caring about you—now was definitely an extremely inappropriate time for that. Maybe later.

You pulled away from the embrace slightly, making eye contact with the radio demon, your faces inches apart. You saw something in those red eyes that looked back at you, a spark of some desire that you wouldn’t dare name in front of him. You would be lying if you didn’t feel the same, too. 

When had you fallen for this guy? This overimposing jerk that manipulated you into selling your soul to him to throw you around like a doll? And why? Maybe him actually pulling his weight in your deal helped you finally realize your unknown attachment to him.

In your thoughts, you failed to realize how the proximity of your faces had gotten smaller and smaller, and you were only jerked back to the present when you felt the lightest touch of his lips against yours. In shock, you had opened your eyes, but quickly closed them when you realized what was happening. 

What felt like ages was really only a couple seconds, which was the capacity Alastor could handle. He pulled himself away, and you didn’t fail to see the hue of red that heated his face, though it was light. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a thin line, before he composed himself into his usual happy smile.

“A siren, I see!” He joked, trying to play himself cool as he looked down at his chest to fix his bowtie. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

You flashed him a coy grin, unwrapping yourself from the hug and struggling to your feet. He gingerly held your hand in his so you wouldn’t fall, and let you lean against him. Falling from that wire grabbing you had evidently caused your ankle to sprain, and you were just now realizing after the adrenaline had left your system. You looked up at him playfully.

“Surely contracts can be changed.”

Alastor hummed in response, looking forward to not meet your eyes. That wasn’t a no, though.

part i part ii

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[fanaticsnail]

No context but I feel like buggy is very

"my girl and I don't fight, she bash my head in with a rock and I walk it off like a man"

Song Suggestion: Be Your Shadow, The Wombats

"Fighting" with his partner - short little headcanons: Bratty Buggy

Warnings: semi-NSFW (nothing graphic), choking, snarling, "fighting".

He would always pick. Pick, pick, pick, pick, pick until he gathered his desired reaction: your teeth bared in a vicious snarl as you verbally reprimanded him for his comments.

He was a brat: pushing buttons and pulling at fibers he had no right in engaging with.

Once you began, he would recline back into his chair with a smug smile proudly adorning his lips: one he taunted you to wipe from his painted face with your ferocity.

When his smile broadened at your words, you would launch yourself at him: straddling his thighs and bringing your hand up towards his jaw to hold your fingertips firmly clasped around his stubbled chin and neck.

"There she is," he would gasp in awe at you, his eyes glazed with desire and anticipation, "there's my feral queen."

"Wipe that disgusting smirk from your face before I do it for you," you would threaten him, lips almost brushing his in a rough whisper.

"I can take it," he would whisper with his eyes twinkling with playful anticipation, chasing your lips with his own as you retreated from his to press your dominant hand against his throat; feeling the bob of his Adams-apple beneath your palm.

His bottom jaw would protrude with desire, pushing his torso against your hand to test your strength.

You would successfully pin him back against the chair by your grip, pressing your chest into his as you sat firmly down atop his lap: bringing your face closer towards his to whisper in his ear.

"And here I thought you were going to behave today."

He would groan, his eyes rolling back as he allowed you to completely dominate him.

You would bring your face to collect his mouth harshly, nipping at his supple, painted bottom lip and taking it between your teeth.

Tongues dancing together, the relinquishment of Buggy's control falling away as he became a mewling mess of gasps, groans and pants under your harsh reprimand.

Hands entangling in his blue hair to hold him complacent and exposed to your ministrations, he would lull his head back to expose more of himself to your reckless and unrelenting 'attack'.

And the crew would simply have no choice but to watch the show.

Thank you for writing in @sexc-snail, I always enjoy your inboxes ❤

[becsabillion4]

take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)

so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in

pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).

word count : 4,410

tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man

Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.

Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls. 

But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-

“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”

Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”

Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control. 

And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.

But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.

And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.

“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.

“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-

“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.

And of course, this just makes things worse.

Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”

“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.

The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.

Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.

Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.

It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.

“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.

His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it. 

You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.

Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there. 

Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.

“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.

You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.

Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.

You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.

“Carmy.”

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.

“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.

“D’you know the best way to calm down?”

“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.

“Sex, Carmy.”

There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.

You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.

“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”

“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”

Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.

“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”

You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”

You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.

But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.

“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.

There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.

Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.

You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.

Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.

“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”

You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.

He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, “If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”

“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”

Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.

A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.

You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.

Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-

“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.

“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”

You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.

“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.

This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.

But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.

“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.

“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.

Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.

You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.

Although it is a little quiet.

“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.

Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.

“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”

“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”

Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.

“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.

“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.

There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.

You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.

“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.

“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.

Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.

“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.

He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”

“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.

“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.

“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.

“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.

You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”

“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”

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wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse

if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 18

Chapter Summary: You venture into the Upside Down once again in an attempt to find Vecna and stop him in his tracks before he can bring about the end of the world as you know it. With Steve and your friends by your side, you fight against time to get to Vecna before he can get to you.

Content Warning: ANGST, swearing, scary Upside Down nonsense, violence

Word Count: 7.2k

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while for me to post! This is the last chapter of season 4 and at the time of writing, we unfortunately do not have season 5 content yet, so this story will be put on a slight pause while we wait (semi) patiently for season 5 to come out! Don’t worry though! Feel free to send in requests and I will do my best to write as many of them as possible (you can send requests set in the Adventures in Babysitting universe or requests that are unrelated!)

Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted! I highly recommend this if you want to keep up with the story since I don’t do regular updates!

Series Masterlist | Part 17 | Next Part

***

There you stood, back at the entrance to the Upside Down in the ceiling of Eddie’s trailer. You wiped your sweaty palms on the front of your pants, trying to psych yourself up for the hell that you were undoubtedly about to endure.

You were in the middle of trying to take a deep breath to calm down when Steve gently grabbed your elbow, pulling you away from the rest of your friends who were putting the finishing touches on their packed gear.

“What?” You asked Steve, your voice hushed to preserve the obvious secrecy he was trying to maintain by moving somewhere a little more private.

A million thoughts were racing through his head. He wasn’t sure what you were all about to face or just how dangerous it might be. His heart raced as he felt fear creep up his throat. He pushed it down as he tried to get the words out that desperately needed to be spoken.

“Look, we don’t know what’s going to happen in there, and I don’t want to leave anything left unsaid,” Steve began, and you felt a lump forming in your throat at the implications of his words. “So I’m laying it all out there…just in case. Y/n, I love you and you’re really one of the only things in my life that ever feels like it’s going right. I…I-I’d like to think that I’d have found my way if I had never gotten to know you, but I know I’m only better because of you. I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I want there to be an us when all of this is said and done, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, don’t do anything rash…I know,” you agreed, but he just shook his head.

“That’s not what I mean…I mean, obviously, I mean that too—don’t you fucking dare do anything stupid in there—but….but I mean….I guess I just don’t want to lose you in a different way when all of this is over, you know?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes searching his wide and wild ones as you tried to make out what he could possibly mean by that.

“Y/n, don’t make me say it,” his words sounded strangled as tears began to pool in his beautiful brown eyes.

“Baby, you’re scaring me,” you put a hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him towards you. “I…I-I just don’t understand.”

“I just don’t want you to fall out of love with me,” he finally spit the words out and you just stared at him dumbfounded, speechless yourself by his total misread of your relationship. Without your voice to fill the silence, he continued on. “Come on, y/n. I saw that way that you reacted when I talked about my six little Harringtons…I’m just worried that you’re realizing that we don’t want the same things.”

“Steve,” a watery chuckle escaped your lips and hurt flashed across his face before you continued, “you couldn’t possibly be more wrong, baby. I want that. I want that future with you more than anything else in the fucking world, but I…I-I’m just afraid that I’m not going to make it out of this one alive.”

Your voice dropped to a pained whisper as you explained your sadness from before, a tear slipping down your cheek as you thought about what seemed like your inevitable fate.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting anything happen to you, you know that right?”

“But, Steve, if something does happen, I want to know that you can be happy without me…I-I want to know that you’ll be okay.”

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’ll be okay without you. Y/n, you’re my whole fucking world,” Steve argued, taking your hands in his. This just caused you to cry harder, a small sob escaping your lips.

“Steve, please, just promise me,” you begged, tears falling delicately down your face. “Promise me you’ll be okay without me.”

You pulled a hand away from his, sticking out your pinky finger as your hand trembled. The sight was enough to break Steve’s heart. The fact that your last wish for the world was for him to be happy reminded him of how selfless you were, and even though he wanted nothing more than to respect your wishes, he knew that there was no way he’d ever find happiness without you.

So instead of taking your pinky in his, he reached his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a hug that felt a goodbye…just in case.

He swayed side to side as you buried your face in his chest, placing a gentle kiss on his neck and basking in the feeling of being loved. He placed a kiss to your temple before pulling away and placing the sweetest of kisses to your lips. It was a kiss that said more than words would ever have the capacity to, and you thanked your lucky stars that out of all the women in the world, Steve picked you to love.

When you finally pulled away, Steve wrapped his large hand around your small one, and led you back to the room with the rest of your friends. You stared at the rope from before, still dangling precariously and precisely around a point that defied physics…or at least what you knew of physics from tutoring Eddie.

“You lovebirds ready to go fucking kill this guy?” Eddie asked, a smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes plastered across his face.

“I suppose it’s now or never,” you spoke up, nodding at Nancy who nodded back and then quickly began ascending the rope.

And just like that, there you all were, making your way back to the hell you’d just escaped.

***

Eddie and Dustin stayed back at the Upside Down version of Eddie’s trailer while you, Steve, Robin, and Nancy made your way to Vecna’s lair. You tried to keep your nerves at bay while you walked alongside your friends, but it was hard to when you had to constantly pay attention to make sure you weren’t stepping on any vines. It would really suck if you alerted Vecna to your presence before you could try to end him once and for all.

“Robin! Remember the hive mind!” Nancy yelled out to your clumsy friend as she hurried ahead to make sure she was paying close enough attention, which left you and Steve with a moment to yourselves.

“So…” Steve spoke up, glancing at you with a timid smirk stretched across his face.

“So…” You replied with a smile. The air between you was a bit awkward, but it was the kind of awkward you basked in. It felt like a normal, teenage sort of awkward that made you feel like your life could maybe be blissfully ordinary once you made it to the other side of this.

Steve chuckled before picking up the conversation again. “Okay, so I told you about my idea for the future, so now it’s your turn. What do you want?”

You hadn’t really thought much of it, and you didn’t like the pressure the question put on you. Your mind flashed to the acceptance letter you’d been waiting on so that you could stay close to Steve. Beyond college, though, you hadn’t really thought about it. You constantly were just fighting to survive, but after hearing Steve’s wishes for your future together, maybe you should be fighting to live. Even though it was all just semantics, it meant something to him and you wanted to give him the world.

“I mean…I’m still waiting on my acceptance letter from Purdue,” was all you ended up saying.

“Is that where you really want to go? Or is it because it’s closer to Hawkins than the other places you’ve applied to? Y/n, I don’t want you holding yourself back from what you really want for me,” Steve sighed. It was an argument you’d had before and the reason why you didn’t really talk about college. The conversation always became stilted and tense.

“Steve, how can I even care about college right now with everything that’s going on? What difference does it make if that piece of paper says Purdue or something else? Besides, Purdue is a good school; it’s not like I’d be throwing my future away,” your voice grew angry and you hated yourself for it. You didn’t want to be this person. You didn’t want to fight with him, but you were under so much stress it was hard to hold back your frustration.

“I just don’t want you to resent me for it,” Steve’s voice was small, and you felt a pang in your chest at the way he said it.

“Baby, all I want is you. I would never resent you for a decision that I made, so please stop thinking that way,” you assured him, but he still had a far off look in his eyes, so you decided to double back to his question that started this whole conversation. “Okay. I see us having a few kids—maybe not the six that you are crazy enough to want, but still a few nonetheless.”

He whipped his head around to look at you. He was in awe of how perfect you were. He thought it was kind of a shot in the dark, talking about kids the way that he had. You were both still so young, and he had spent all this time worrying that you didn’t want the same things. He stared at you, mouth agape as you continued.

“And…and we have a dog. Like a big dog that we can take on hikes and walks. The kind of dog that makes us the boring stereotypical suburban couple, but we don’t care…and I finally have my drivers license.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at your last small hope for the future. “Well, maybe when this is all said and done, I can take you out for a driving lesson, how about that?”

“Sounds like a date,” you replied, smiling up at him. You both were beaming the way that young people in love can only beam and everything would have been perfect if it wasn’t for the fact that you were traversing through the absolute worst place on earth.

“Holy shit!” You heard Robin exclaim, and the two of you hurried to meet your other friends. Robin’s words didn’t even do the sight justice. You felt your stomach drop half way to hell at the sight of the Creel house. None of it felt real.

“Okay, we’re there,” you breathed into your walkie talkie.

“Initiating phase three,” Dustin’s voice crackled through the static and you thanked the universe that the damn thing worked in the Upside Down. The bats that were swarming the house suddenly darted off into the distance.

“Dustin, please be safe,” you begged, holding your breath while you waited for his reply.

“You’re the boss,” his voice rang out again and you shook your head at the fact that he was way too nonchalant about all of this shit.

You all walked up to the door of the Creel house and you sucked in a deep breath. You hated the way the vines writhed and slithered against the frame of the door, the stained glass rose much dimmer and duller in the permanent storm of the Upside Down. You went to grab the handle, but Steve pressed an arm across your shoulders, holding you back as he took a step forward. You rolled your eyes at the way he was always protective to a fault.

You gasped as the door creaked open on its rotting and rusting hinges. If you had been nervous about stepping on a vine before, that anxiety increased ten fold as you saw that the interior of the house was filled nearly wall to wall and floor to ceiling with the trip wire that was Vecna’s vines.

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered as you all stopped to take it all in. “That’s not good.”

“No shit,” you breathed out, your dry remark losing some of its edge at the sheer shock of how fortified Vecna’s not-so-secret hiding place was. The thought of it kind of pissed you off in a way. “So he just gets to hide in here with basically a state of the art security system, meanwhile we’re out there with a bum lightbulb thinking the world is gonna fucking end? Two words: Bull. Shit.”

“Well, I mean I guess when you’re essentially a ruler of the underworld you get to make the decisions. Why fight fair when you don’t have to?” Robin spoke up and you grumbled in response.

Steve took a cautious step forward, before quickly jumping from bare patch to bare patch of the floor.

“What the fuck, Steve?!” You whisper shouted across the foyer. “This isn’t mother fucking hopscotch! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Steve just shrugged in response and waved at you to follow. You rolled your eyes, seething at how careless your boyfriend could be, before you took a careful step forward. You continued to carefully navigate with Robin and Nancy following close behind. Your eyes had been glued to the floor, but as you got closer to the stairs that Steve was standing at, you looked up, noticing the nervous look plastered across his features as he watched you navigate your way through the room.

“Absolutely not. Wipe that look off your face,” you pointed a finger at him as you took a final step towards him. However, you had spoken too soon, slightly losing balance as your ankle rolled and you began to topple towards your side. Steve was quick to snake an arm around your waist, righting you before pulling you in to his chest.

Anything else you were going to say died on your tongue as you looked up into Steve’s eyes. You suddenly felt like you did before you were dating, when you were just some silly girl with a crush on a boy that was way out of your league.

“You were saying?” Steve smirked at you, which made it really easy to snap out of your momentary blast to the past. You rolled your eyes and hit him gently with the back of your hand in the chest in a dismissive gesture.

Moving up the stairs wasn’t too difficult, and you were actually feeling optimistic for a change. The hope in your chest faltered when the ground began to shake, and the four of you huddled together to brace yourselves. Dust and ash fell from the ceiling, and you coughed a dry cough as you inhaled it, trying desperately to regulate your breathing despite the anxiety coursing through your veins.

The walkie talkie in your pocket suddenly roared to life, static spilling through the speaker before Dustin’s frantic voice rang out.

“Y/n! We don’t know how much longer we can hold them off, the bats got inside Eddie’s trailer and we think—“

Your heart dropped as his voice cut off. “Dustin!” You screamed into the transmitter, “talk to me! Say anything, just let me know you guys are okay!”

You let go of the button and listen as static crackled through the receiver. You felt the blood drain from your face when a different voice filled the airwaves.

“Y/n,” a raspy voice echoed through the walkie talkie. You gasped, instinctively dropping the device to the floor as if it had burned you.

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered, staring wide eyed as your gaze darted back and forth between the petrified expressions of each of your friends.

You barely had time to register the subtle squelch beneath your feet before you realized it was too late. A vine wrapped itself around Robin’s ankle pulling her to the wall before several other vines wrapped around her limbs and torso.

Steve darted forward, swinging his axe as hard as he could in a futile attempt to free Robin from the vines. Nancy grabbed the sawed off shotgun from your back, using the butt of the gun to hit the vines around her arm. You sprung into action to, unholstering the knife at your hip jabbing and stabbing wherever you could, but the vines wouldn’t relent.

Steve swung his arm back to hack at the vines once more when something wrapped around his axe, pulling him to the other side of the room, before you knew it, Steve was being pulled up on the wall by his neck, and your heart stopped as you watched his legs kick and flail while he wrestled with the vine around his throat.

You didn’t even have time to react before Nancy was pulled up against the wall as well, struggling as she attempted to fight against her restraints.

“Y/n! Go!” Steve screamed with all his might, his voice straining against the vines that were slowly constricting around his neck. “Please.”

The word came out in a whisper, but you froze, hyperventilating as you spun between all of your friends, helpless and bound to the walls around you. You willed your legs to move as you ran a hand through your hair, trying to breathe through the obvious panic attack that had you in its clutches. You felt a sickening feeling settle in your chest as a creak rang out on the stairs above you.

A slow and solid step sounded as your tear filled gaze slowly ascended to take in the form in front of you.

There Vecna was. No mind tricks. No gimmicks. Just him in the flesh standing right before you.

“What do you want?!” The words came out as a guttural shriek as you fell to your knees, him taking another sure and resounding step towards you.

Steve felt the vines around his neck relent slightly, realizing in horror that Vecna wanted him to be alive enough to watch. Seeing his clawed hand and ragged, decrepit skin, Steve felt nausea settle in a pit in his stomach as he realized the constant terrors you had been facing in the confines of your own mind. This was the monster that you had already met face to face countless times before. This was the man who was using your own mind—your own memories—against you.

This was the man who had taken you from him, over and over and over again.

Vecna didn’t answer your question, simply taking another step towards you.

“I said, what do you want?” You cried out again, the words dissolving into sobs as he grew ever closer to your shaking and dejected form. Ever since that day in the Byers’ living room, you always seemed larger than life to Steve. Seeing you look so small and defeated and terrified on the ash covered landing of the Creel house broke something in him.

“Leave her alone,” the words came out much more confident than Steve felt. The vines tightened, and Steve gasped, wincing and struggling at the sudden tension.

“Please!” You begged, horrified at the danger your boyfriend and friends were in. “I’ll do anything….anything.”

The promise spilled from your lips in a whisper and Steve wished he had the strength to yell at you, to tell you to fight, to flee, to do anything but that. But he couldn’t.

“Stand up,” Vecna’s voice rang out, and you quickly rose to your feet. Steve’s heart broke as he watched the way your legs shook, your knee giving out momentarily as you stumbled and righted yourself.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as Vecna approached you, putting his clawed hand around your throat. You gasped, tears spilling relentlessly from your eyes. Your hands wrapped around his wrist, as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

“Please. I-I…I don’t wanna die,” you whispered, your face contorted in fear of what the ending would feel like and regret for all the things you’d never get the chance to do.

Vines wrapped slowly around your ankles, snaking up to grab your wrists as well, binding them behind your back to minimize your struggle.

“Try and stay very still,” his deep voice shook your heart inside your chest. Steve wanted to scream, but he couldn’t, silenced by the vines around his throat as he thrashed to no avail. Tears streamed down his face as he watched, helpless to stop the cruel fate in which you would meet your end. “It will all be over soon.”

“Please don’t hurt them,” your voice was small, and sobs wracked your frame as your words came out through hiccuped pauses. “Let them go.”

When Vecna didn’t respond, you turned your head towards Steve, meeting his big, beautiful, brown eyes for the last time. “I love you, Steve.”

With that, Vecna’s large clawed hand reached up, opening in front of your face and Steve watched as your eyes rolled back in your head.

“No!” Robin shouted, her strained, guttural cry something that would haunt Steve for the rest of his days. They all watched as your body twitched and small whimpers escaped your lips. Blood began to drip from your nose, and you breathed out one last shaky breath, and then the world went still.

Just like that, Vecna’s hand dropped and your head lolled to the side. He stepped away from your lifeless form and the vines holding you up released, and you dropped like a rag doll to the floor. Vecna turned and made his way back up the stairs, leaving you all behind. The vines released their grip on your friends as they each collapsed to the floor in a coughing fit. Steve scrambled to the heap on the floor that was your body and scooped you up in his arms.

He cried out as he cradled your head in his hands, the weight of it something so familiar as he thought back to all the times he’d cradled the nape of your neck and watched as your mouth turned into a small smile before he would kiss you. All the life, all the loveliness, everything that made you you was gone, disappearing on dust and ash as Steve could swear the room grew ten times colder. He gently wiped the blood away from your nose with his jacket sleeve, trying desperately to fix the carnage in front of him.

“No….no, no, no, no, no! Robin, I didn’t get to say it!” Steve sobbed as he pulled you into his chest to shield you. “I-I…I didn’t get to tell her I love her.”

Robin didn’t know what to say. There was nothing she could say to make any of this better. She choked back her own sob while she tried to piece together the right words. “She knew, Steve.” Tears streamed down her face as she dropped to her knees next to him.

“You don’t understand,” his words came out in a strained whisper. How could he ever find the words to explain how he failed to even be there for you? How he couldn’t even comfort you as you cried out? “It’s all my fault.”

He buried his face in your neck, his wet tears mixing with the not quite dry ones staining your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your skin, his hands running over you hair, delicately holding onto you the way he wished he could have. The way he’d never be able to again. As soon as you started having visions he should’ve put you in the passenger seat of his car and drove off as far away from Hawkins as he could get. He thought about the way you would’ve looked with the pale light of the moon filtering into the car as he watched you smile and laugh and sing while the radio played songs that neither of you really liked but you both inexplicably always seemed to know the words too. He thought about the way you could’ve started over, the way he could have made something of himself instead of being the posh, depressed, and mediocre man his parents always wanted him to be.

He thought about the love that filled his chest that would never have anywhere to go, instead just sitting there like a weight he had to carry, a fire that would spread and fester and consume.

Nothing would ever be okay again.

Nancy stood back, her jaw set with an anger that could burn the world to ashes. Hot angry tears streamed down her face as tension set across her entire body.

Steve laid his head down on your chest, and his tears flowed faster at the complete sound of silence. He tried to lose himself in a memory, but it became tainted with the pain of losing you as soon as he had conjured it in his mind.

“I can’t believe you would do that! What the hell were you thinking, y/n?!” Steve yelled as he slammed the door to his bedroom.

“Steve, please, just calm down. I’m okay! I promise! Can you please just let it go?” You begged. You tried to gently grab his wrist in an attempt to make him turn to face you, but he shook your hand off and roughly ran his hands through his hair.

“You could have died.”

He wasn’t wrong. The two of you hadn’t been working at Family Video that long and it was one of the days that Robin had band practice so it was just the two of you running the store.

You were working the register and Steve was getting a box of movies to restock in the back when a man walked up to the counter.

“Welcome to Family Video, my name is y/n if you need anything at all!” Your customer service voice dripped like honey.

“How about you open the register?” The man had asked. Something in his eyes didn’t look right and you had felt your heart rate pick up as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a chuckle, hoping that keeping a light demeanor would keep the situation calm.

“I said, open the register,” he repeated himself, slowly lifting his arm, a pistol nestled between his fingers and pointed shakily right at your chest.

“You don’t have to do this,” your words sounded even and confident, even though inside you were falling apart. Dealing with the supernatural on a semi regular basis had prepared you for the unpredictable, and you slowly raised your hands up to show compliance.

“I said open the register, bitch!” The man shouted, and your heart stopped as you heard Steve’s footsteps bounding towards the front of the store. The man quickly turned to his right, training the pistol on Steve.

Without thinking, your arms had darted out and you grabbed the gun out of the man’s hand, quickly pointing it square in the middle of the robber’s chest. Your hands didn’t shake, confidence radiating from your stoic form as the man’s hands slowly raised as he backed away.

“Get the fuck out of my store,” you shouted as the criminal in front of you quickly turned heel and ran. Steve quickly locked the door behind him, and you calmly set the gun down on the counter. Steve looked at you like you were insane, but you just quietly picked up the phone and dialed the police.

After an entire evening of showing the police security camera footage, explaining what happened, and still trying to manage customers, needless to say, Steve was understandably a bit pissed off. So standing in the middle of his bedroom, you tried to calm him down once he was finally able to release all of the anger and fear he’d been bottling up all day.

“You could have died too! What was I supposed to do?” You argued.

Steve sat down on his bed, sighing as he held his head in his hands. You felt guilty. You knew he’d been stressed ever since all the shit at Starcourt happened and his parents were on his ass about having a job. This little incident didn’t do anything to help his mood.

Quietly, you sat down next to him, pulling his hands away from his face as you beckoned him to lay down next to you. He complied, and you pulled his head against your chest, laying his ear down right over your heart.

He closed his eyes as he listened to the gentle and rhythmic reminder that you were okay.

“See. I’m fine, baby,” you whispered as you ran your hands through his hair. “My heart’s still in there, still beating. All for you, baby.”

Yet here Steve was now and your heart that was always supposed to be beating strong was still. He cried as he stayed there trying to listen for something, anything. Placing a gentle kiss to your chest, he continued to fall apart. “Please, y/n, please just come back to me. I’ll get you your dog and your white picket fence—I promise—just please don’t leave me here alone,” he begged.

Suddenly, though very faint, he swore he heard the familiar thump of your heart. His eyes shot open and he held his breath as he listened closer.

“Steve, we have to get out of here,” Robin spoke up, tears still falling down her face as she pulled gently at Steve’s sleeve, doing all that she could to avoid looking at your lifeless form in his lap.

Steve quickly shushed her, listening closely, as he heard another beat of your heart against your ribcage. It was weak and it was slow but it was there and it was you.

He sat up abruptly, and began to shake your shoulders. “Y/n! Y/n wake up! Please y/n!”

“Steve she’s gone,” Robin tried to explain, looking at Steve with pity and sorrow.

“She has a pulse, Robin!” Steve exclaimed, a watery laugh escaping his lips as he wiped at his tears and placed a kiss to your forehead. He quickly grabbed Robin’s hand, placing her fingers on your neck. She felt like she could drop to her knees and just cry at the rhythmic tapping of your heartbeat.

Nancy quickly dropped to the floor next to the three of you, pulling a water bottle out of her backpack. She quickly poured the cool liquid onto the sleeve of her shirt, pressing it to your forehead. After a pause that felt like an eternity, you began to stir as you groaned, your face contorting into a pained expression.

Relieved laughter surrounded you as Steve pulled you into a sitting position, pulling you into the tightest hug you thought you would ever receive. The reality of what just happened began to sink in and you started to cry with the relief that Vecna had respected your wishes and left your friends alone.

“I can’t believe he didn’t crack me like a glow stick,” you croaked as soon as you could speak.

“This is a miracle,” Robin breathed as she pulled you into a hug as everyone helped you to your feet.

“Then we better not waste it,” you replied, your voice even and steady. You took the shotgun from Nancy and cocked it. You had escaped the worst fate imaginable. You were not messing around.

“Phase four,” Steve breathed, his hand snaking around your waist. He didn’t think he’d ever let you go after what just happened. His voice was about as shaky as his hands, and he took a deep breath to try to calm his nerves to lock in for the next part of the plan.

“Flambé,” Nancy chimed in, you looked at her stern expression and nodded, taking a step forward towards the attic.

When you silently entered the room, you watched as Vecna hovered in the center of the room, vines attached to him from all angles. You shuddered at the sight of it as Robin placed her bag down on the floor, each of you grabbing a Molotov cocktail from the bag. You heard the click of the lighter and watched as the flame began crawling up the rag in the bottle in your hand. You thought back to the same click of the lighter in Jonathan Byers’ living room the first time you encountered creations of Henry Creel’s design. You thought about the chaos that followed you since, the people you’d lost, the pain you’d felt. You thought about the life and future you’d almost just lost at his hands.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, hurling the bottle towards Vecna, watching it erupt into a spray of flames as it hit Vecna square in the chest.

He bellowed, vines retreating, as he fell from his perch in the middle of the attic. As he so roughly drew you into visions against your will, you just as abruptly pulled him out of his.

His burning body dropped to the floor, and you wished that would be the end of it. Your heart jumped to your throat when he stood up, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours as he stared at you with a focused contempt that sent a chill down your spine. He took a steady step towards you but was quickly knocked off kilter when Robin threw a second bottle at him.

You felt all the anger and resentment you’d been harboring since the Upside Down entered your life. You felt the rage of watching your friends suffer, of watching the kids grow up too fast, stuck in a battle that was not theirs to fight. Vecna had spent all this time making you feel shame and guilt, festering and spreading like a disease that wouldn’t die until it took you with it. You didn’t feel that shame anymore. Instead it was replaced with red hot hate at the man—no, the monster—that had spun this twisted web of suffering and carnage and destruction.

You aimed the shotgun square at his chest, firing the first shot. It hit him in the shoulder, knocking him backwards. You wasted no time as you cocked the gun again, firing off another shot that tore through his abdomen. You continued firing without mercy, knocking him back and back again until he stumbled through the boarded up window of the attic, falling with a sickeningly satisfying thud to the ground below.

You turned back towards your friends, a look of shock on everyone’s faces, including your own. In your assessment, you had just defeated evil itself. The four of you raced down the stairs towards the front door. You felt your stomach turn however, when you noticed that Vecna was gone, nothing left but charred patches of grass and a few sputtering flames.

He had escaped.

***

The news was saying it was an earthquake, but you knew better than that. You felt guilt settle in your chest when you heard about the fissures ripping through Hawkins.

It was exactly what Vecna had shown you.

Four kills. He had done it. You had been dead—albeit not that long, but dead nonetheless.

When you had made it back to Dustin and Eddie, Eddie was pretty banged up, but nothing some bandages and a few very not professionally done stitches wouldn’t fix. He’d have to hide out; there was no way the town was going to let go of the cult leader who was picking off high school students one by one. Luckily, it was petty easy to go off the grid and disappear in small town rural Indiana.

To your complete non-surprise, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Eleven, and Jonathan’s new friend Argyle had been dealing with similarly supernatural shit in California and were no strangers to the messed up load of shit that was going on in Hawkins, so it was pretty easy to get each other up to speed. Besides, at this point, exchanging stories didn’t result in incredulous disbelief; you pretty much believed that anything was possible at this point, much to your collective dismay.

But presently, you tried to shove all of that aside, as you, Steve, Robin, and Dustin carried in boxes of stuff to donate. Hawkins High had been turned into a makeshift clinic, resource center, reunification center, etc. So many people had been displaced and injured in the “earthquake” that normal day to day activity ceased, instead everyone put all of their focus on rallying around those who needed support after the recent events that had quite literally shook the town.

Almost as soon as the four of you had arrived, you had volunteer name tags adorning your shirts as you went off to help with various aspects of disaster relief.

Robin joined Vickie at the meal prep station and you couldn’t help but smile as they chatted away.

Your smile quickly vanished when you saw Dustin talking to Eddie’s uncle. It was easier for Eddie if everyone assumed that he didn’t survive the earthquake. You had questioned him multiple times to make sure it was what he really wanted, and though you were sure the answer would never be a whole hearted “yes,” he was convinced it was easier than his uncle having to deal with the emotional turmoil of watching his nephew face multiple counts of murder that the townspeople of Hawkins were more than eager to lock him up for.

Steve nudged you slightly and you tuned back into the kind woman who was explaining how the two of you were to sort clothing donations. Steve watched the soft and polite smile on your face as you asked a couple of clarifying questions, and he felt luckier than he ever had before.

You had been gone. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to experience, and he knew one thing was certain: he would never, ever take you for granted.

He watched as you folded clothes, carefully folding up a children’s pajama set. It felt so inexplicably domestic and he took a breath as he thought about how his hope to have a future with you was still intact.

“Hey, uh, y/n?” Steve spoke up, his voice quiet.

“Yeah?” You replied, staring up at him sweetly. He was too nervous for you to be staring at him like that because he was sure if you smiled at him like that for much longer, he would melt right then and there.

“Well, when you were…when you were gone…I-I-I promised you something,” Steve whispered.

You saw how much he was struggling with talking about it and you quickly began to spiral. “Steve,” you replied softly, taking his hand in yours, “I’m sure you were under a lot of stress, and-and I’m so sorry that I put you through all of that—believe me, I wish it hadn’t have happened that way—but I don’t even remember it, on account of the fact that I was…well, you know…dead, so please if your worried about keeping your promise, don’t because it’s not like—“

Steve quickly cut you off, softly grabbing your face and tilting your head to look up at him. “Y/n, no it’s not that—and never apologize for what you went through. That was in no way, shape, or form your fault and if you worry about that one more time I’m going to lose my mind just a little bit.”

“Hey!” You mocked offense, crossing your arms and Steve just chuckled at your antics.

He took a deep breath before he continued. “When you were gone, I promised that if you came back I would get us the white picket fence and the dog and the future that we never get to talk about because we’re always so confident that we’re not going to have it. When you came back it felt like a second chance to…to just really go for it, you know? And I kept thinking before all of this shit that we were just too young, but after almost losing you, I realized that it’s pretty fucking stupid to wait when you know you’ve met the love of your life.”

Steve reached a hand behind his back into his back pocket and pulled out a ring box. Your eyes immediately started welling with tears. You were glad that everyone was caught up in doing their part to help the people of Hawkins because, even with what felt like half the town in your high school gymnasium with you, it felt like you and Steve were the only two on earth.

“Y/n, I know it’s not much, and I really planned on doing this in a way that was a little more special, but you know me and I really just couldn’t fucking wait…will you make my life complete and be mine, til death do us part?”

You didn’t respond verbally, instead you took a step forward and threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. You held him so incredibly close and breathed in the scent of his cologne. This moment, it was sweet, it was simple, and it was all yours; perfectly imperfect and lovely all the same.

“Absolutely,” you responded in a whisper. He gently placed the ring on your finger and you admired it. It wasn’t anything flashy, a simple stone set into a plain band, but it was probably the nicest piece of jewelry you had ever owned. “When did you have time to get this between ‘the earthquake’ and now?” You asked incredulously. You’d spent nearly every minute together since then, so how had he been able to get that ring after having his “why wait?” epiphany.

Steve’s face flushed and he chuckled awkwardly as his hand when to the back of his neck. “Well, the thing is, I’ve had it…for a while,” he admitted. You stared up at him in disbelief and he continued. “I actually had finally saved up enough to get it shortly before everything went to shit. I-I was gonna ask you after graduation, just because that felt right at the time, you know? I-I’m sorry it’s not super fancy or anything…my parents offered to help so I could get something a little nicer, but I wanted it to be something I got on my own.”

“It’s perfect,” you stared up at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“Are you sure?” Gosh it was cute when he doubted himself.

“I promise,” you reached your hand towards his and he smiled, hooking his pinky finger around yours. He pulled you towards him and placed a sweet kiss to your lips and you smiled into it.

Everything was just so perfect.

You continued folding clothes, not wanting your proposal to get in the way of helping out your community, and you felt like nothing could take away the warmth that was radiating through your body. That was until the room darkened suddenly, and you felt a pit in your stomach. You quickly turned to Steve and you could see the worry painted across his face.

You followed the crowd that was making its way towards the windows of the gymnasium.

A chill ran down your spine as you watched white ash swirl through an overcast sky.

Steve’s hand slipped into yours, and that was when your perfect moment shattered into a million pieces before your very eyes.

***
a/n: AHHHHHHHH! It’s so crazy that we’re at (kind of) an end to this story! I wish we had season 5 out so that I could continue to write alongside the plot, but unfortunately we don’t! Keep on the look out for more stuff I write though! I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been brainstorming that I think could be good.

If you enjoyed this chapter, consider reblogging! It really helps inspire me to write more seeing the engagement and how much people are liking the story!

Thank you all for sticking with me! I love you guys!

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @palachannie @keeryverse @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose @frtfvthg @criesinlies @cycat4077 @kachelleee @killerqueenfan @newyorkangelbaby @spaghetittied @anxfl @huffledor-able541 @mikariell95 @nothergoaway @angie2274

[nepentheansea]

What’s Right, is Wrong.

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

premise: You wanted it all, and now you are realising that it might not be possible, and you need to tell Anakin.

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader

warnings: angst, smut, p in v, fingering? overstimulation, semi-public smut, sexual themes, etc. I don’t know at this point. 

wc: 4.3K

a/n: I read over it like once, so there is that. Also, this is my first time writing for him so if it’s not good, apologies. 

It was a mistake, falling for him. You had dedicated your life to the order, years of training and devotion all so that you could help bring balance, and all they asked of you was to remain free of any personal attachments, and you failed. You knew the moment you had met Anakin, with his charm and ,  that it would always prove difficult to keep to the laws bestowed upon you. 

You had spent years with him, growing, learning, training, and after all that time, he wore you down. Leading you to wonder constantly what the things that were so blatantly forbidden to you, would be like, and eventually, you broke as did he, Unable to keep yourself from wanting him, needing him. In the worst possible ways he consumed you, made you weaker than ever before. You couldn’t go on like this, you just couldn’t. 

You had no idea what Senator Amidala was saying to you, despite its importance, you had checked out, your mind distant, stuck with the tall handsome Jedi that owned your mind, body, and soul. She hadn’t seemed to notice, and perhaps it was because you found the room to occasionally nod and make other gestures that you were taking in everything that she was saying, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. It was a blessing that she hadn’t sought any responses from you, before she had left, leaving you alone with your thoughts and some surrounding padawans. 

If you closed your eyes now you could still feel his fingers, feather-light on your naked skin, body pressed against yours, sweat riddled and tired, but unrelenting, his arms wrapped around you in an attempt to keep you from disappearing from his grasp. The tired, unhurried thrusts as he rocked his hips against your own, helping you to find that state of utter bliss that only he could give you. And then there was the imprint of his plush lips down your neck, spine, sternum. His mark, permanently branded on you. 

The chatter of the room had fallen to just above a whisper as Anakin stormed into the room, crossing it in three large strides. His strong hand wrapped around your arm as he pulled you slightly into him.

“May I have a word with you?” he hissed, raising his brows as if to stress urgency over his request. He didn’t seem to care just how many people were surrounding you or even looking at you, nor the person that you had been speaking to at that moment. Whatever was on his mind was clearly more important, and you had the strongest urge that you knew exactly what it was. 

You exchanged a quick glance with the padawan you had been talking to before Anakin had pulled you off with him, out of the room and into the desolate hallway out of earshot as he pushed you up against the nearest wall. His tall frame looming over your much smaller one, as he looked down at you, eyes desperately searching yours for the sole reason he sought you out. If this had been a different situation, you could have almost guaranteed that you would have folded right then and there. Staring back at him, you suddenly found it much harder to keep your eyes on his, though they were full of confusion and some well-hidden pain, and you couldn’t fully blame him for it. 

“Ani-” you started, finding it harder and harder to find the words to explain to him just why you couldn’t do this anymore. The arrangement, the understanding had simply been ‘try it once, and then we’re done’ and after once, it turned to twice, and so on. Living for the moments that you could shut yourselves away in a dimly lit room, with no prying eyes, completely engulfed in each other. But it became an addiction, lying awake thinking about him and only him.

“Why did you leave?” he cut across you, ignoring the way his name fell from your lips in such a soft and delicate way. He didn’t have the time for your excuses, whether they were logical and well-reasoned or not. He only needed the truth, the unfiltered and undeniable truth. He thought he knew the reason, but he wanted you to look him in the eyes and tell him why, tell him that you didn’t want this anymore, whatever it was, not the fucking note that you left thinking it would be sufficient enough for him. You had never been so wrong about something in your life. 

One of his hands was firmly pressed against your abdomen, holding you in place in case you got the sudden urge to run from him like you had done earlier, he couldn’t risk it this time. 

“Why?” he prodded, and you felt that shift in energy, something more compelling and urgent. You cast your eyes down, taking a deep bated breath as you tried to search for the words. 

“Anakin, we can’t, we can’t do this and you know it. It’s wrong, forbidden-” you explained, gesturing towards the room where you had just come from as if to better help explain your point, but Anakin couldn’t see it, he wouldn’t.

“If it is so wrong then why doesn’t it feel that way? It feels right, beyond right, and I know you know that.” Anakin argued, the vein in his neck growing more prominent, as he clenched his jaw, trying to calm himself. His eyes were fluttering between your own, watching closely for any indication that you understood, agreed with him, his brows creased in determination as his hand moved to caress your hip, gently lifting up your robe just enough for him to make contact with your skin. 

He was right about one thing, it had never felt more right than to be with him, consumed by him and everything he did. Every fibre in your body calling for him every waking moment, desperate for his touch, his presence, like if you didn’t get it you would surely go insane. To have your mind plagued by the very thought of him, finding yourself counting down the minute until you could see him again, feel him, taste him. The mere thought of him, a disruption to your existence. It was to the point of total madness, and not a single second of it felt wrong, or like it should be forbidden, and yet it was. That’s what they had told you, that's what you had spent all those years knowing, practicing, preaching. 

You had slipped up, catching yourself wanting something that you couldn’t have, like a piece of forbidden fruit that had been dangled in your face, and Anakin had been nothing shy of happy to oblige, only wanting the same thing. You had both failed, getting so caught up in the feeling, the need and want, that you couldn’t stop, couldn’t resist. With every encounter, it became harder to see reason, to see where the true problem lay, and even now, even now you weren’t sure that you knew what the problem was. 

You had spent the past few days fighting everything in you, telling you to go on, that nothing had to change or stop, but you couldn’t ignore that little part of you that screamed out that it was wrong. 

“Anak-”

“You left me, with a note…A note? Is that really what it means to you, what I mean to you? Is that my worth, y/n?” His voice sounded broken like he was trying to keep it all together. If you reached out to him, you would be able to feel, sense his fear and anticipation. He was scared and confused. He couldn’t lose you, not when he had no reason to, it would tear him apart. It had been cruel of you, but in a split second, a moment of poor judgement, you panicked and did the only thing you could think to do. You left him alone with a simple note, and his thoughts, hoping that by some chance it would suffice. Guilt wracked you as you looked at him, that looming gaze filled with disappointment and betrayal. 

“No, I-its just, I knew you would try and stop me, and you can’t, we can’t.” 

You could see the rage bubbling inside of him, no matter what you said, did, he wasn’t going to see the problem, because to him it wasn’t a problem. He would instead abandon the Jedi than lose you, to lose what he had with you, and if that's what he had to do then he would, he didn’t care. You meant more to him, this meant more to him than everything else he had grown to know, love.  

“What is so wrong about it?” He asked, his teeth clenched, “Nothing that we have done is wrong y/n? Nothing, it has only felt right, addicting..” 

“Anakin, have you ever considered that this is the reason it is wrong?” you start, your features hardening under his blunt gaze. “I can’t get you out of my head, I can’t get the feeling of your hands on my body, your skin from skin,  your taste from my tongue, and assuredly I cannot get the feeling of you consuming me from my soul. It's permanent! It doesn’t stop, day in and day out you are the only thing I crave. I don’t seem to care about much more, Anakin, not the things that I should care about, and that is where the problem lies. We have a goal, a purpose to serve and I can’t seem to find myself wanting anything to do with it anymore.” You could feel the way your eyes were prickling with emotion, your head reeling trying to make sense of it all, trying to convince yourself that what you were saying, that you needed to stop, was the right thing to do. 

Anakin’s hand shifted just slightly, further up your shirt, his thumb soothing your skin with gentle massages, a gentle reminder of the way his hands felt upon your skin.  

“And I see nothing wrong with that? There is nothing wrong with that, I-”

“Anakin, no,” you state plainly, seeing his brow twitch and his jaw clench. 

His face contorted at your response, finding it harder and harder to make sense of it all. The truth was, he couldn’t, he couldn’t see your reasoning.

“Is that what you really want? Do you want to stop? I want the truth, I want to know what you really want, not what you think you should want. I need for you to tell me.” he explains, praying that you would tell him that you take it back, that you were scared and that was all. 

The silence that fell over the pair of you was deafening, consuming both of you. You were holding your breath and you hadn’t even seemed to have noticed it, but he had. He felt drained, watching your eyes search his. There was no hiding the conflict in yours, he could see it, all he needed was for you to be honest with him. 

You felt nothing but guilty as you looked at him, knowing the truth was, you didn’t want to stop, but more so that you had to. You had been foolish to think you could have it all, and it was all finally coming down. As you looked at him, his eyes pleading with you to give him the answer that he wanted to hear, you just couldn’t say goodbye to him, not yet. Ignoring every sensible thought that you had, you leaned up against him, brushing your lips against his neck, hesitating for a single moment before kissing his soft skin, clenching your eyes shut as you moved them down the side of his throat. 

He couldn’t help but fall into place, hoisting you up into his arms, clumsily pushing you into the nearest empty room, backing you up against a sturdy wall. Small gasps like moans trickled from his lips as you continued your attack on him, sucking, biting, licking his skin until any type of mark blossomed. Your fingers curl into his hair, desperate to pull yourself closer to him, your body, firmer against his. Rolling your hips against him, all of the fabric of his robes, obstructing you from what you really needed, the friction that you so desperately craved. Groaning in frustration, he lowers you to the ground, pulling back from you the moment your feet touch down. 

“Take these off..” He demands, something in his voice dripping with lust, as he reaches for his own hem to his pants, tugging them down, letting them fall to his ankles. You bite down on your lip, letting out the softest whimper as you catch sight of his cock, hard, thick, and leaking drops of precum. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to just drop to your knees, take it graciously into the palm of your hand, and let your tongue glide around it, licking up every little bead that formed and dribbled down his length, running your tongue over that prominent vein. He was staring at you, that look of pained authority on his face, as he waited for you to do as you had been told. “Now.” 

You fumbled quickly with your trousers, pulling them off and kicking them aside, already long forgotten. He stared at you, knowing what this meant, what this gesture meant. After this encounter, it was done, left on both of you like a permanent stain. Anakin moved forwards, slotting his lips against yours, kissing you with such fervour and passion that your back and head hit the wall with a soft thump, his hands gliding up your inner thighs, feather-light touches. With each whine and whimper that left you, his hand came closer and closer to your aching cunt, his fingers gliding through your fold collecting every ounce of arousal that pooled between your legs, gently spreading it around as he slowly worked your clit, taking in your sharp gasps. 

“Why would you want to stop this, when I can make you a mess with a few simple touches?” He murmured against your cheek, starting to leave his own trail of kisses on your delicate skin. “When you clearly crave me the same way I crave you…” he was talking to that part of you, the part that wanted him more than life itself. Appealing to it as best he could in hopes of changing your mind, making you see the reason that he dwelled on, and it was working. Anakin curled two thick fingers into your tight hole, smiling against the shell of your throat when you moaned deeply, your walls instantly clenching around his fingers as if they were begging him to never leave, and he could think of nothing more than the feeling of your soft walls milking his cock the way they had been his fingers. 

“When I can make you feel this good?” Thumbing at your clit while he pumped his fingers inside of you, kissing down the side of your neck. 

“Ani..” you mutter, not sure of what you intended to say. There was something about hearing his name on your tongue that drove him mad. Spoke to the most carnal parts of him, and then it was the way you spoke it so softly, like it was something so pure. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to let you go after this, he toyed with the idea of not allowing it at all but he couldn’t force you, he knew that. Anakin pulled himself from you, hand wrapping around his cock. Gliding the tip through your folds gathering your slick, watching your mouth fall open in anticipation, your fingers clawing into the fabric of his robes. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to fill you with every inch he had to offer, satisfying that feeling of emptiness that his fingers had left. 

“Tell me what you want. Tell me and it's yours.” 

Hard against your entrance, waiting for nothing more than the words to fall from your perfect lips, he stilled, his eyes searching yours for that familiar sense of warmth and invitation that they always held, and there it was, hidden behind the fear and longing. Pushing against you ever so slightly, the head of his cock now nestled into your aching cunt. He needed to hear it just as much as did, he needed for you to still want him and nothing more, he was desperate. 

“you, Anakin, I need yo-” 

It was more than enough, music to his ears as the words fell from your lips, almost like a prayer, and he couldn’t wait anymore. Anakin housed you up in his arms, pinning you against the wall once more, as he lined himself up to your entrance. His eyes met yours, searching for any sign of regret, finding none. With one snap of his hips, he forced the full length of his cock into your needy cunt, and with another, he had your head falling back against the wall, eyes clenched shut, as a deep breathy moan left your lips at the delicious stretch of him. His eyes consumed every expression that lined your features as he pulled out of you, watching that sense of panic over the thought of him leaving you empty and unsatisfied, only for him to sink back into your soaking pussy, causing you to let out nothing but pleasure-filled sounds. There was no holding back the particularly high-pitched moans that were being ripped from you, sounds that surely someone would hear if they walked by, with each precise thrust of his hips. Sounds that resided deep in your chest begging to break free. 

He captured your lips, moans, and whimpers, in a clash of needy tongues, and teeth, silencing the flow of sounds that left you. He wanted to hear every blissful sound that you made at his expense, but he couldn’t risk someone coming in and stopping this moment, ripping it from him faster than it had begun. You wrapped your legs around his middle, craving even more, drunk on the feeling of how utterly full you felt, how deep his cock nestled inside of you, hitting that sweet spot as if he had known it his whole life. 

“Why should we have to give this up….” He mutters through clenched teeth, his thrust becoming harder, “I won’t..I can’t..” he groans, burying his head into the crook of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin. He meant that. He would rather die than be without you and he needed you to know that. Your nails dug into his back, fisting at the fabric of his tunic that you wished wasn’t there, allowing you to feel his heated skin so perfectly pressed against yours. Clinging to him as each well-placed thrust forced you harder against the wall. He was the only thing you had to sturdy yourself. 

The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled your ears, mixed with his desperate moans, and grunts, clouding your judgement rather quickly. Every word he said, every question he asked you, made you second guess. How could you want to give this up? The truth was, you didn’t want to, never. And even now, with him pressed deliciously against you, beads of sweat falling from his brow, while a thin film-like layer coats your skin, his cock so perfectly buried inside of you as if it was made for you, you couldn’t imagine being without him, and you knew that. 

You wanted to tell him that you took it back, that you didn’t mean any of it, but you couldn’t seem to find the words. It’s like they were stuck in your throat unable to surface and all that came out was lewd sounds. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging on it so that he was staring up at you, his open mouth pressed against yours as you moaned into it, stealing kisses here and there. You urged him on, soft whine-like pleads and encouragement left you the quicker his pace came, his fingers gliding up your bare-tired thighs, to the apex of them, the spot where you needed him the most. Deft fingers flicked against your clit, as you took in sharp inhales of breath, as he drew tight and precise circles into it. 

He treated your body as if he knew it, knew it better than you ever could, like he knew just what to do and when to do it, to have you melting like a puddle at his touch. 

“Fuck, ani-“ you moan. There it was again, that beautiful sound of his name on your tongue, falling from it like it was sweet honey, urging him on, begging for more and more. His head falls forward, groaning deliciously at the way you took him so well. Good, so fucking good. 

“The things you do to me, woman..” he groans, getting drunk on the way his cock dragged inside you, the perfect amount of friction for his head to fog. You felt that familiar coil of warmth settling in your lower abdomen, surging through you with each thrust. You were close, so utterly close. “Ani I’m close…just like tha-“ You couldn’t even finish the sentence before your climax burst through you. Your pussy spasms around his length, a soft submissive sob escapes you. Seeing you like this, feeling the way your walls clench around him, gave him a slice of madness, a need to pound into you at a faster speed, desperate to see you become a stuttering mess, begging for him to stop. Sound after sound, profanity after profanity left you, your body, torn between needing more of him, and yet not. Your fingers clawing into his shoulders. “Ani-” Your whimper of his name was nothing but breathy. You couldn’t think straight, all you could see was him, all you could feel and think was him and only him, as each pulsing wave of pleasure washed over you.  

Anakin had no intention of letting you down too quickly, letting you catch a breath. Pushing you through your high, reviling in the way your body convulsed under his. Your head thrown back and eyes desperately clenched, your mouth hanging open and moaning after moan escaped you. 

“Ani-s’too much…” you whine, feeling every nerve in your body sent into overdrive, every sense of yours flooded in nothing but overstimulating pleasure. Your legs shake around his body, your cunt fluttering around his length as he drills into you, swallowing up every delicious sound that leaves you.    “Ani..ple-ease.” Anakin’s hand finds your chin, tilting it back down so that your face was level to his. His teeth tugging at your bottom lip.  

“Not till I’ve had my fill of you..” he pants, tightening his grasp on you, pinning you even firmer against him and the wall as if you could go anywhere. You let out a soft whimper as yet another wave rushes over you, and you take to silencing yourself by catching him in a heated kiss, biting down on his lip a tad too hard, feeling that metallic taste of blood against your tongue, feeling that strange sense of satisfaction overhearing him groan rather loudly. You could feel him pushing you over the edge towards a second orgasm, but your mind and body were already starting to feel numb. Drunkenly hazy over the way he was determined to overstimulate you. His fingers were relentless against your tired and abused clit, surges of ecstasy rippling through the entirety of your body. You could hear him saying something, but you had no way of comprehending the words leaving him. 

Anakin was reaching his end, his well-measured thrusts were becoming sloppy, but not once did they waiver in their mission. The only thing keeping him grounded was listening to the way you begged him, your body begged him for one more, but as your legs shuttered around him and your pussy clenched around him, he couldn’t help but spill into you. Warm thick ropes of cum soothing your abused walls, as he too shuttered, head buried into your chest, strings of profanities and praises leaving his lips like a prayer. 

His hands squeezed your aching thighs, as you relentlessly tightened them around his waist, almost as if you didn’t want him to release you, to pull out of you. His pace slowed, thrusts becoming more like desperate spurts as he pulled yet another orgasm from you. His name falls from your lips as it spread throughout you. Anakin stilled inside you, listening to the sound of your stuttering heart, beating rapidly as it slowed back to its normal pace, while your fingers carded through his hair, in such a soothing manner. Neither one of you wanted to move, to come back to the crippling reality that you resided in. He could stay the way he was forever, blissfully wrapped up in your presence, and you, you could do the same. Feeling his warm protective body, holding you so desperately close. 

After what felt like an eternity, he set you down, holding you up with a gentle squeeze of your hips. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes, knowing that if you did, you would crumble. You knew what you wanted, but as of right now, you could see no clear way of having it, not without surrendering everything else. You wanted nothing more than to say fuck it, give yourself over to him permanently, but you didn’t know how. How to let go and do just that. Pulling your pants back on and righting yourself, you take a deep bated breath. His gaze lingered on you, the painstaking look of loss on his features. 

“Ani-I…I’m sorry…” 

“I know..” he speaks, his voice breaking just a little. 

You thought that perhaps you’d find your way back to him, and perhaps it would be sooner than you anticipated, falling back into the addicting pattern you had created, and maybe this time it would go further, but for now, you wouldn’t. Wiping the tears from your face, you take a long, painful look at him, before exiting the silent room, not daring to look back. 

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Am I Still Your Favorite Escape?

Gale & Maureen -requested? ✔️

As a new year and a new unrelenting malaise settles over the prisoners in camp, Maureen Kendeigh finds the journey from viewing Gale Cleven as her prize collector’s item to the man others suspect she loves most harrowing indeed.

Note: y’all wanted handjobs and I gave ya one, with a twist, and yall wanted more of what Maureen is thinking during this time and so you got it. Along with 6k of other dynamics and plot and feelings, buckle up 👐🏻

Warnings: 18+ smut, female fingering, some cum play, semi public sex acts (not trying to be exhibitionists, but the place is packed ok?) erectile disfunction, not the most supportive attitudes towards partners feeling out of sorts, BUT ALSO!! Please note the typical universe warnings apply with an addition in this chapter being a discussion about terminating a pregnancy, those discussing it disagree strongly and due to religious beliefs one refers to it as “murder”. No action is taken in this chapter. There are hints of Buck x Bucky in this one, although can anyone actually define for me wtf was going on!? Because by Buck x Bucky I just mean they’d die for each other and that’s stronger your average marriage and Bucky maybe should look away when his friend gets some midnight loving, lol.

Maureen had been enthused at the outset. Not that she cared that much for subversion, but she enjoyed the feeling of mischief that their new task carried with it. Camp had proven dull, worse in many ways than she had even expected. She had expected there to be work if not recreation, and while there was some, then the winter months came all too soon and nothing about their shelters or their clothing were suitable for sustaining outdoor productivity.

Which meant she -and the others, she supposed it was only right to admit the others were no better- she had been cooped up in here during a never ending snowstorm outside, watching Gale sand his little board in a room muggy with pungent sweat and stale breath. They were packed on top of each other in here and any attempt to get fresh air earned one a case of frostbite.

That bit of wood was going to become a radio, Gale had told her, and she believed him. With all her heart Maureen believed him. But there came a day when watching Gale fiddle with a safety pin stuck atop a board became unarguably boring. So much so she had begun to insist she be allowed to help Brady and Crank haul in the hot water and assist in what went for “cooking” in this place. Johnny didn’t let her near his precious concoctions after having ousted Benny from the same, but he did let her hand him bowls and generally act useful at mealtimes.

She kept him entertained with stories of picnics in exotic places, safari’s where they cooked out of the back of her father’s jeep. Brady had them eaten all his terse quips about her not knowing how to manage in straitened circumstances and instead asked her endlessly about rhinoceros habitats. It served to entertain her for awhile, too.

Bucky had recovered after a few weeks abed, his movements remained stilted and she could still carry more water than his ribs allowed -a point she made to him daily as he swatted at her from his bunk- but as he recovered he became preoccupied.

Ida had also recovered, though not as thoroughly, having gone well over a week without so much as drinking water in her insensible state. She was weak, feverish and upon at last being plied with nourishment, she puked it right up. It was little cause for concern considering her illness, but as she grew stronger and her stomach remained contrary, some unease began to grow. By Christmas her brother Johnny had taken over the cooking in an endeavor to make something palatable but the woman was hardly the sort to be picky over her victuals. Benny and Brady’s watery soups were alike and they both came up within fifteen minutes of being eaten.

So then, their little room smelled of sweat, breath and vomit. Her brother and Hambone made mention of Crosby, it provided levity for a few days and Maureen was fast to join in. Until Ida had her at a private moment, the men in the hall or else out with latrine duty, and then she asked Maureen if she’d had her menses.

Offended at the implication that Gale Cleven would allow her any more than a mouth or handful of himself, Maureen hotly insisted she had. Three of them in fact, since arriving. She had the bloody rags to prove it.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, when there began to be a very segregated group of men hovering and debating amongst themselves that Maureen began to second guess such an inquiry as more than moralistic judgment. Their Red Cross packages arrived with canned goods and bland crackers. Bucky began to bargain for the latter with a gambler's gusto -before inevitably handing his loot to Ida. Ida herself began gambling fiercely, for smokes.

Ida had never smoked in her life.

And now the place smelled even stronger of one more cigarette, sweat, breath and vomit.

The smokes seemed to help her, or at least, Maureen noticed her puking less by New Years. The early part of the new year brought new misfortunes, the confiscation of Cleven’s prized radio and a rash of miscarriages amongst the women. A rash was perhaps an exaggeration -only three or four, by Maureen’s count, and between her’s and Ida’s and Cleven’s discreet insistence, such incidents were passed off to the wary guards as heavy menses.

Maureen realized then that those were pregnancies from their guards, a possibility that she had not considered as she had not had reason to worry about it. That is, until Ida Brady caught her again at a moment alone, and asked her in the closest thing to feminine fluster that Maureen had ever seen her in, if she’d ever had reason “in your expeditions, as it were…” to possibly “eliminate a -poor decision?”

Being quite puzzled by this inquiry, and only picking up on the vague aspects -something she admitted to Ida straight away- Maureen admitted she drank most of her poor decisions away, a strategy that hadn’t failed her yet and she wished was at her disposal in this frozen mud pit.

“I’m speaking of- romantic decisions. Poor ones.” Ida had tried again, yearning for understanding in her voice.

Maureen remained nonplussed.

“A child, Maureen a-a pregnancy have you ever?” Ida hissed out at last.

“Gosh no.” Maureen sputtered, “I’m not a full idiot. Why would you ask? I strike you as enough of a harlot?”

“I’m merely looking for -remedies.” Ida pinched at her nose, a motion Maureen was familiar with watching in Gale when he was overwhelmed.

“Who needs it?” Maureen scoffed, quite sure that the odds didn’t stand many more girls suffering from the same, the poor food and rough conditions having ensured it for them.

Ida took her hand away but closed her eyes, mouth folding to a straight line. “I do.”

“Oh fuck.” Maureen plopped down beside her on the bunk in disbelief, they both stared at the opposite wall and its identical beds with rumpled bedding and starlets pasted on the walls. “Fuck.”

“They’re getting very stupid about it.” Ida said at last.

“What do you mean? Who?”

“The boys.”

“You’ve told the boys?” Maureen cried out, infuriated.

“They guessed, already, for God’s sake must even this be about you, too, Kendeigh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“It means while you’re bored and very vocal of it, some of us might die-“

“-we could all die in this shithole-“

“-or! Or worse,” Ida cut in fiercely, “have someone die for us by being idiots. Bucky is full of schemes of -of running off into the sunset. I suppose after he levitates us over the barbed wire with his magic carpet. I don’t know, but I- Maureen I know that if I go on much longer, it won’t just be me in danger. They’re either going to risk something terrible or get punished for not reporting me.”

“So what?” Maureen asked dully, having been excluded from an obvious inner circle regarding the issue and having now been accused of being trivial in her own sufferings, it smarted and she could not deny the flicker of unfairness she felt over it. “Want me to shove a coat hanger up you? The others too chicken?”

Ida visibly recoiled beside her, putting more space between them in the bunk. “I’m not going to- to kill it.”

“What kinda remedy doesn’t?” Maureen sassed, if they were to talk no longer in flippant pleasantries, she could do that.

“I’m just asking for help.” Ida’s jaw wobbled, her voice a wreck of desperation and Maureen could see with a small and ugly bit of satisfaction that the woman was truly close to losing her grip. It was satisfyingly human. As was her reaction to a remedy after asking for it.

“You come to me because you think I’m loose enough to know, and then you have the nerve to be appalled when I do.” Maureen pointed out, “That what all the smokes are for?”

“Yes.” Ida put her head back in her hands.

“Just won’t budge; huh?”

“No.” her voice sounded like she might be crying but there was no telling with those hands in the way.

“It would be stubborn.” Maureen muttured, thinking of the goddamn Brady family as she knew them. “Why won’t you get rid of it? You want to get rid of it-“

“-I don’t understand why it’s hanging on!” Ida’s wail came out garbled between her fingers.

“So let’s -unhang it.”

“I can’t. Kendeigh -I can’t.”

“I know it’s risky, but I know you’re not scared of dying.” Maureen muttered, attempting to understand.

“Candy I cant, I can’t murder it.” her voice had dipped into a sacrosanct whisper.

Maureen huffed in confusion, a substantial amount of pragmatism warring with what tiny bit of sympathy the threat left her, “It’s a German’s, at this size no more than a blo-“

“It’s a life!” Ida snarled back at her so viciously Maureen contemplated the likelihood of her having gone fully mad, “And it’s mine.” she rebutted, pointing to her chest fiercely.

“So you’ll let Bucky and Gale die for you, die trying to get you out of here but you won’t try to fix it yourself.” It was how Maureen saw it, and if she were to be accused of suggesting murder, she might as well have her side put out there, too.

“That’s how you see it?” Ida muttured, looking utterly defeated.

“If Gale dies over this, I’ll wring your neck myself. Keep smoking.” she advised with a shrug, “Maybe catch an elbow to the gut if you can.”

Ida pulled her hand away again to look at her, she’d definitely been crying then, red nosed and watery eyed, but she looked less aghast now than she had at the mention of the coat hanger. Maureen didn’t think she wanted condolences about it, or a pat on the back. Come to think of it, Ida was getting plenty of that sort of doting from the boys. No, Maureen didn’t feel like she needed that from her, and something sour and twisted in her heart made her loath to give it.

It worsened as the days went by, as Maureen observed their once innocuous routines with new eyes, noticing the boys' furtive plans, their hovering concern, their brought in provisions -offerings fit for a queen. It was understandable to show such care for her in her state, and ostensibly no one deserved it more than Ida Brady. But it left Maureen feeling adrift, like an afterthought, someone whose greatest challenge was their boredom. And ever looming were those great risks the boys bantered about like it were all a low stakes game of cards.

She plays thirty to forty sets of cards with Hambone, decimates Benny at chess, cleans the pans, even mops the goddamn floor. All to keep busy, perhaps even to spite Ida whose one assigned task is the floors. She cannot be accused of boredom or idleness if she has done all her own tasks and others’ besides.

In her spare time she would like to go with Bucky, to be of use in collecting things for Gale’s new little project, his precious crystal radio, but where women go -there go guards and attention and soon, the sheer mischief of the naughtiness of Gale’s construction wanes as she is left laying in her bunk watching him wiggle a clothespin around for the fifth day in a row. She had been so understanding for the first four. Even though she had contemplated a tiff with him over not informing her of Ida’s state as soon as he knew, she had been merciful and instead settled for holding the copper wire for him and brushing his cheek when he didn’t actively shy away in concentration.

He mumbles about needing to give it his full attention, about her needing to keep a lookout, about the danger of getting caught. She asks if it’s worth it then, anything that might get him killed is her enemy, even if it’s a little clothespin on a board. He looks at her like she’s from mars, unable to fathom why she wouldn’t understand its necessity. And he doesn’t come to bed until an ungodly hour of the night and immediately, upon settling in their bunk he is asleep, much to her chagrin.

She would have liked a kiss, a hand between her legs even more. She would have settled for those whispering little chats they’ve indulged in ever since Bucky laid atop Ida and all rules were broken -they’ve shared a bunk and as the winter gets worse, no one bats an eye. In fact, everyone’s stacked two for one, male and female alike. Brady and Hambone snicker and whisper in their bunk every bit as much as she and Gale do, Maureen is sure of it.

Instead Gale falls asleep. And he does it again and again, night after night. Bucky rummages on his own for supplies. Brady frets over Ida. Only so many people can play makeshift bat gammon in the hall. It does not pass the time. And Maureen grows ever more restless.

She feels expectantly happy when Gale’s work is finally complete, his finished product constructed and the moment of truth comes. They crowd around and wait with baited breath as his finger tunes it. And Maureen knows she is fully awful for her relieved feelings when it does not work. He can’t be killed for it if he scraps it. And he will come to bed at a reasonable hour now it is useless. The shake of his hand makes everyone else feel helpless in the face of his ever steady composure cracking, but while Maureen has no acceptable remedy for Ida’s plight, she does for Gale’s, and she waits for darkness with the relieved excitement of a child on Christmas Eve.

Gale does indeed come to bed, the radio not fully scrapped but heartily abandoned and hidden with its various parts in sundry places. And when he slips beside her, his nose is cold and he touches her like he has missed her. He pulls the covers to their chins, tucking them in with a small giggle, she is suffocated by it and yet he persists and this has gone on all winter until now it is their inside joke and he does it just to make her laugh, and when she laughs so does he, a honest little giggle of a thing, and she misses him worse than ever even as he pressed along the length of her.

It isn’t safe yet, not everyone is asleep but she bides her time with kissing him and he returns her caresses ardently, a thorough press of his lips and his tongue unreservedly sliding into place alongside her own, his hands warming up as they clasp her neck, turning her head upon their pillow. She wonders if they are loud even at this, but she was never the one to care, it’s Gale who objects and who hushes them, who makes them wait, who insists on being courteous even in hell, who only allows himself to lap at her when the place is abandoned or else full of the atmospheric noises of masculine snores.

Maureen does not mind waiting for him, or rather -she does, but he is implacable about it and when she attempts to persuade him otherwise she is oftentimes swatted and put in her place like a wayward child. Such correction holds a charm of its own when it is Gale Cleven administering it, but tonight she feels close to madness if she does not get her way so she allows him to kiss her as the quiet and steady breaths around them herald the unconsciousness of their brethren. She grows bolder, throws her leg over his hip and tugs at his buttons, hands rucking up his shirt and parting the heavy flaps of his coat. He is as burdened with layers as a Victorian maiden and Maureen enjoys the hunt for warm skin, the way he looks as ravished and expectant as any girl while she gropes at him, when she finally reaches him he always shudders, a full bodied thing that jerks even his neck.

Tonight she parts his layers feverishly and he mutters her name, again and again and his hands are clumsy at her shoulders and no progress is made on discarding her own clothing but she pays it no mind, she is direly hungry for him. Any touch of him, to make him shake and melt and pay tribute to her.

“Maureen.”

She finds the button of his trousers right at his heaving naval and she exults at the feel of the fine trail of hair beneath her fingertips.

“Maureen.” his voice grows urgent and she doesn’t heed it, he counts on her never heeding it.

She wiggles her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and skims the hairy plane of his pelvis before laying her hand on what she needs and -he is as limp as a dead mouse. She holds the chubby thing for a good long moment, very much like it were some useless rodent she had caught and must now dispose of, and she is filled with confusion.

“Maureen-“ he mutters again against her unmoving lips and she realizes with misery she mistook his pleading for a different sort.

It is not that she’s never felt him soft, on the contrary, there was a long time in the early days -when she wanted him and he wanted a promotion- that her hand would find its way between his legs, in a jeep or a bar, beneath the table while he helped her with her calculus. Once she felt him she became mildly obsessed, he was always tucked to the right and he was so substantially long and full beneath her palming, even in repose, that her determination to have him was only further cemented by it. Again and again her hand made it into his lap and again and again he would rebuff her, sometimes with startled propriety, occasionally with long suffering disbelief, more and more with almost parental disapproval.

Each reaction had been as satisfying to Maureen as if he were swelling into her palm. And soon enough, he was doing that, too. His hand growing a beat too slow before he grabbed her wrist, his mouth still twisted in dry reproof but his eyes began to burn. He was unbothered no longer and it was not much longer after that he was not even resistant.

Ever since, she could count on him to perk, to respond, to validate her own want of him with his own for her.

The fact it was in many ways a tortured surrender on his part only drove her madder, made her desire burn brighter, made the succumbing of the good, the right, the proud man all the more intoxicating. And again, as if they’d never shared all that, he was now as warm and floppy as a dead dormouse.

“Maureen.” he begged, half expecting tears again like her first night in the stalag, wincing as her hand squeezed him meanly, jerked at him a few impotent times in an effort to fluff him.

Her hand withdraws and he holds his breath, ready for a scene or a rebuke. His gut twists miserably, at fault twice over and yet -not really. But that never mattered with Maureen. He says her name again but she is still and deflated, and after a moment, she merley rolls over, giving him her back.

That is how he knows she is hurt, were she angry she would not have shrunk from being crueler than a few angry tugs. The silence is new and it makes Gale’s stomach swoop in an odd terror, like his next decision might rescue them both or plunge them off a cliff.

“Maureen.” He tries again, his hand on her shoulder, squeezing and trying to turn her back.

Her shoulder jolts up sharply to displace the gesture. “I’m not cold.” she informs him as she rolls further away towards the wall, and her tone is icier than the weather outside. He’s stunned, she’s never once ignored him, no it’s always ever been an escalation of her demands for his interest. Hell, even in Africa she had said she was cold and the presence of her head on his shoulder disrupted his tan, he got no end of grief from the boys about it.

Confused and mildly hurt himself, although he doesn’t know why, not beyond some tickling sense of unfairness about being blamed for being a bit out of sorts in the place, Gale takes his hand away and moves to lie on his back, to keep from crowding her. He thinks that in the morning he will explain to her how he is preoccupied with the radio, that his gut feels in constant free fall from the plans to escape, that everyone is riding on him for this thing to work and he just proved tonight he’s perfectly worthless at it. Nothing but buzz in his ear echoes around in his head and he replays the sound of that failure again and again, justifying her frustration with him. He thinks he’ll explain this all to her in the morning. And also-

-that he is cold.

He’s so damn cold from the anxiety and being still at his work at the table for so long his hands and legs go numb that he simply cannot imagine feeling bothered at this moment, cannot imagine it and it would seem that neither can the little guy. He doesn’t deserve a reward, not for fucking up at the one thing they’ve got going for them. He catches Bucky’s eyes when he rolls over, having taken up night shift over Ida due to insomniatic tendencies. He wonders strongly if Bucky would be as disappointed in him, if he is already. Just wait until next morning, Gale thinks, when I get to admit I’ve got no second plan. If it doesn’t work as is, no amount of fiddling is gonna make it better.

That settles heavy in his gut but does nothing for the swooping feeling, there is merely a loadstone in his belly, plunging downward in a perpetual free fall, and in his dreams the accompanying soundtrack is radio static.

There is a tiny sliver of freedom in the morning -and it does not come every morning- when Maureen has noticed there is still and quiet yet the morning routines are in place. Lazy and weak, the prisoners do not rise with the sun, although some stir and moan and try to meet the new day head on. The guards unlock the doors and yet many choose to lay abed. So many in fact that Johnny Brady ceased making breakfast at that hour as with so few ready to eat it, the ordeal became a waste. He does often fetch water for morning pit baths and teeth brushing, the occasional splash on the face to wash off the sleep.

Maureen has often contemplated these little slivers of time as a chance to break free. Not of the compound, that endeavor holds no fascination to her, but rather out of this combine and out from under the watchful eyes of people who know her all too well. Or think they do. They don’t, they very obviously don’t. And she’s losing all sense of who she is to be known by as the days go on.

She listens as Johnny gathers the buckets and milk pails, always gentle with the clanking metal, vestiges of the considerate boy his mama raised still clinging even in this place, and he hands an allotment to Hambone who is awake with him and less considerate.

Then there is the hushed flurry of beratings and the sleepy protests of trying one’s best.

They leave together, and they leave the door adjar as usual, to come back in quietly if needed. They’ll be gone for at least fifteen minutes, then they will come back and then Brady will leave again to run his two goddamn laps around the compound while that testicular looking bald headed doctor clocks his pace. Maureen doesn’t think Johnny likes running track or ever did it before, but he and Ida both took it up, the latter probably to get rid of the child and the former maybe to stay warm. The doctor didn’t care about the timing of Ida’s laps and soon she began to grow too large to risk attention by keeping Johnny company.

Now Johnny runs his timed laps alone and the only motivation Maureen can imagine for it, beyond the over-familiar assessment of his limbs by the doctor, is the chocolate he earns from it. Priceless sugar to keep up his specimen’s strength in this starving place.

Chocolate Johnny regularly gives to Ida. Though for Christmas he made them all a mashed chocolate pie on a tin plate and it had honestly been the kindest and loveliest Yuletide treat anyone had ever given any of them.

Maureen has considered running with him, trying her luck and seeing if she can win chocolate herself. Maybe that would make Gale smile. She doubts the doctor would care, he’s curiously uncaring regarding the existence of females in camp.

Maureen knows all these sounds of morning routine by heart, can track the progress of each stage of the routine while feigning sleep, motionlessly facing the wall.

Gale has no need to feign, it would seem. He is not snoring but he is whimpering and muttering in that annoying way of his that only occurs when he’s in deep. She used to think it cute, she now thinks it helpful to judge if he is able to catch her at her scheme.

-useless fucker with his useless radio and his useless cock, making her feel useless-

Careful as a cat, and with as much grace, Maureen rolls herself upright, and uses the slats of their upper bunk to balance her weight, keeping the mattress from giving a tell-tale dip. She swings from one slat to the next, carefully crouching when the movement jars the whole frame but Benny stays asleep below her and Gale makes no move to arrest her. It’s a feat to drop soundlessly to her feet after such a climb in a full overcoat, but she manages it. Her boots are under Benny’s bunk and she fetches them with no small amount of terror, but despite his shifts and erratic movements, he does not catch her.

She takes the boots into the hall, which is gratefully empty, and fastens them there. Taking her woolen cap from her coat pocket, she puts it atop her head while tucking in her hair, and fastens her scarf high over her nose, and knows that she is about as inconspicuous in form and feature as the next man. When Brady is bundled similarly his eyes appear as gentle as a woman’s and Maureen knows her own are no longer half so beguiling, not with their pale lashes and absence of cosmetic relief.

Perhaps she’s grown so wane and bland Gale has even lost the ability to pretend attraction. He always was fastidious about cleanliness and order, fussy and volatile when she took him unawares. In fact, when she had first managed to get so far as to undo his pants, to fondle his half hard length, to pull him from the slit of his drawers, to tug his shaft to orgasm, it had been beside the antiseptics. And that had some sort of parable in it, she thought now. Recalling how she’d had to talk him down off a panic as soon as he had shuddered and given her the sought after reward, hot and sticky and plentiful as only a virgin’s would be. He was not comforted until gauze and betadine was used copiously to clean her hand, and the nurse was later puzzled as to why when she entered only one had needed treatment, but both left stained with the orange stuff.

Back then a word, a flick of her eyes would have Gale in full pursuit, bodily if not mentally. She could wage a war with his ever so impeccable spirit and win it with the help of his own flesh. Now? Now he couldn’t even respond, not even pretend it. And he’d tried to warn her and she’d thought he’d been begging and she realized he wanted to stall her, keep it from her, one more thing.

These thoughts carried her dozens of rows down, combine after combine, lost in a flurry of snowflakes that were turning gradually pink as the sun rose. It was beautiful here before all the footprints ruined it.

At the far end of the sector, outside the last combine before the fence that separated them from the Brits, Maureen spotted a huddle of men gathered around a fire pit. She hadn’t known those were even allowed, not doubting that its proximity to the fence had some other subversive reason beyond warmth, and if she thought it then the guards must have. Yet here it was alright, jugs hung over it from a makeshift spit and crackers impaled and being toasted on the same. Maureen’s mouth watered, as much at the thought of genuinely smoke flavored food as she did at the heat. She was still undecided as to her course of action when a loud guffaw, followed by a familiar and harsh curse made her startle.

Polish airmen -or, at least by way of America. They would be sat out in the cold at dawn and they would toast their crackers. Maureen had frequently used her brief passes from Thorpe to terrorize other officer clubs, finding the joy of it a great distraction and some of the girls had joined her at it. She was usually greeted in such escapades with shock or even disgust but the men’s flailing helplessness in the face of a female serviceman always served as a full quota of contentment.

No one had terrorized her back as good as she gave until the Poles. And then they had bought her a drink, and lamented with her that she had not become a fighter pilot. Because Maureen still held a flame for the small craft, resentful that her decent piloting had been considered too poor for the clunky birds, for she knew she wasn't all bad, it was merely those awful forts and their terrible bulk. The Poles had agreed and bought her another drink, and tried to seduce her to their squadron. That had been a happy night and she’d come back to barracks so late as to break curfew, and chatted Gale’s ear off in drunken joy about her wonderful time and her new friends.

Maureen now eyed the fire in the snow and the group of foreign speaking men around it and tugged off her cap, allowing her hair free. And she sauntered up with calculated aimlessness, as if she were indeed only checking out their s’mores to ridicule them compared to her combine’s delicacies. It was effective, they defended their crackers vehemently and she remained derisive, this called for a demand that she try them and so she did and admitted they weren’t too bad but were too dry to be gotten down her throat. So they then passed her coffee and she had to squat to receive it and then she was given a seat to finish it and before long, she was one of the huddle and her feint at leaving them was argued against so heartily she knew she’d won, and so she stayed and played cards and told stories and drank hot water with boys who had been born over here but were in many cases educated not far from her house. And when afternoon came and went she stayed, and when evening fell and the guards became stricter with the perimeter and their fire, she snuck in with them into their combine and there played drinking games despite the violation of curfew.

For the Poles had liquor in this hell hole. And that, Maureen thought, was the true measure of a great nation, their capacity for ingenuity and irrepressible spirits.

Gale entered his own combine in the falling dark with the persistent press of a gun barrel at his lower back, right about at the kidneys, he figured. It was the only thing possible to persuade him to keep from looking, and the others were filing in right ahead of him, saving him a bullet their only motivation for abandoning the search. The guards locked the door after them, and Gale’s chest heaved in panic at the thought of her out there somewhere and locked out and him locked in.

“Fuckin’ Kendeigh.” Murph grumbled but without any heat,

taking himself to his barracks.

Bucky kept pacing up and down the hall with his hands in his hair, snapping at anyone who dared clog his promenade. “Jerries said it was time for bed -so get in your goddamn beds!”

“Why would she do this?” Gale begged him again and Bucky huffed again at it, furious for him.

“She give you grief last night?” Bucky asked wisely, the loyalty in his voice soothes Gale, as does the structure of his sentence, it suggested it wasn’t his fault. And Gale wanted to believe that and he just as strongly he knew it was wrong of him.

He had been in the wrong and he didn’t deserve Bucky’s sympathy for this or the damn radio. They’d been talking of repairs every spare minute of this day that hadn’t been taken up with trying to find Maureen. And while Bucky could remain as adamant as he wanted, that it wasn’t his fault that his radio didn’t work -it didn’t change the fact that his failure now meant Bucky was gonna try something awful instead, like climbing the fence with a pregnant woman on his shoulders. And it was all because Gale couldn’t fucking make a connection. Just as he couldn’t connect to his own body for Maureen and now she’d probably gone over the fence too, or got shot trying.

“So fuckin’ unless.” He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes and mashed the tears away.

“She call ya that?” Egan barked, and Gale didn’t need to see his frown to know he was about to track down Kendeigh to punch her, not rescue her.

“No, don’t need a dame to tell me what’s what.”

He didn’t see it coming so he was reasonably startled when he found his hands dislodged from his eyes and his face suddenly collided into the weave of a musky sweater, Bucky’s hand gripping the nape of his neck like he were a child. That hand was so damn large Gale could imagine he was young again and his father was holding him. “Somethin’s gonna come to you,” this reassuring rumble was light years away from his father’s belittlements and he shuddered, “I’ll get you new wire or somethin’ but just- ain’t your fault, Buck, and that goddamn parakeet needs snow down her pants if she can’t see it too.”

No one pretended to sleep that night, even once the lights were out. Ida sat up in her bunk with her brother beside her, a telling lack of sympathy being expressed for Maureen’s self inflicted plight. Ida had spent her own time at the radio and while it hadn’t done much good, it had gone some way to reassure Gale she didn’t see anything amiss. It ought to work.

Small talk was kept carefully low in the bunks, and Bucky kept a firm position on Gale’s bunk, sitting upright with his legs slung over his friend’s boney knees, affectionately trapping him in a lying posture. Bucky had taken to entrapments here in camp, perhaps the barbed wire inspired him.

They had already given Benny his fair share of chiding for not going out with Maureen that the morning, although Brady’s report of her absence in the time he had fetched water plainly represented someone not wishing for accompaniment -or, as Brady so helpfully reminded of the obvious, her desire to obey Cleven’s long standing order on the matter.

It was probably close to 0100 when a great commotion sounded outside, followed by a crash bang of the combine’s main doors being thrown wide and the rhythmic tread of jackboots had everyone pouring out of their bunks and standing at the ready, -they weren’t sure for what, but it wasn’t something you wanted to be caught lying down for. Gale wrenched open the door, expectancy already perfectly in place on his face until he caught sight of Kendeigh, hauled like a child between the guards and one of their captains met his eye with unimpressed disdain.

“This we found in wrong sector.” he explained, gesticulating to Maureen with a gloved hand, “Sleeping under combine steps. I have told you, Major, I cannot guarantee safety of your females when they are alone, something happen to them, you blame me but I told you! Cannot guarantee.”

“Understood.” Cleven gave him his soberest nod, feeling ill and angry and watching warily for the next move, wondering when he could get his lost package back, yet not wanting to appear eager.

“Discipline, major, discipline!” The Captain insisted and Gale felt Bucky’s heat searing at his back as he pressed forward, taking the German’s eyes away from Gale’s, preventing something rash.

“Oh believe me, sir,” Bucky drawled as he pressed forward, the guards posture confidant and lax, “discipline will be met.” he took the brave step of gripping Kendeigh’s coat flap in his hand and tugging her forward, a movement that yanked her free of the gaurds’s grip.

“Met?” the officer was confused, anger and annoyance tinged his repetition.

Bucky shook Maureen meanly by her coat in emphasis of his statement, “Discipline!” he agreed, insistent.

“Well?” It appeared the officer intended to wait until it was meted out.

Bucky stalled and Gale caught Maureen’s panicked eyes even as her nose flared rebelliously with measured breaths, trying to get on top of it all. Gale felt himself pushed to the side abruptly, having to catch himself on the door as Ida Brady strode past him into the hall, the book she’d been perusing still clutched in her hand.

“Child.” she muttered loudly for the officer’s benefit before raising her book and striking Mauree square across the face, one cheek and then the other as the blow sent her staggering, sharp thwacks with the flat side of the volume.

Maureen took the reproof with good grace and a stunned whimper, Bucky’s still supportive clutch on her jacket keeping her from making a fully pathetic scene and melting to the floor.

“Go, in, get in bed.” Ida snapped her fingers, pointing to the door and when Maureen took a second too long to collect her spotted vision, Ida raised the book again and Maureen needed no more incentive, knowing if Ida did not deliver it the guards would.

She tumbled over the barracks threshold like a bedraggled orphan, hair snow drenched and cheeks throbbing, her jacket muddy and undone.

“Well done.” Johnny Brady greeted with montone venom and only Benny Demarco’s well placed foot tripped her and prevented her from clawing his face off in long suppressed spite.

She landed inelegantly on her face, elbows bent just enough to catch herself from a truly ugly splat, she was gathering herself for another spring when the troop of her officers sounded and the door closed and quiet fell over the place, lethal and accusing.

So the Germans had let her off easy then. Maureen drug herself up to her knees and suddenly wished she hadn’t, it felt too close to contrition.

She staggered upright, ignoring the indignity of having to push up on Brady’s knee to do so. Once on her own two feet she raked muddy fingers through her hair and smiled at her superiors, tired but dandy. They looked pissed and that was to be expected.

“The hell did you go?” The others seemed to acknowledge Gale had some right -or maybe it was responsibility- to address her first and it was leveled at her even more scathingly than she had braced for.

“For fresh air.” she chimed, leaning against a bunk brace, arms crossed easily.

“Sleepin’ out? Sneakin’ out?” Gale stormed on and Ida actually took pains to bypass him and climb into her own bunk, her merciful discipline administered she seemed to wash her hands of the business, “Flagrantly disobeying my expressed orders! Answer me! The hell were you thinking?”

“I wanted to get out,” she leveled back at him, her smirk grown sharp and practiced and debutant-worthy, “I wanted to be somewhere else besides in this stinking, miserable cabin with its miserable, stinking occupants. Nothing but a bunch of self righteous, maniacally focused dreamers who can’t have fun for shit.”

As soon as she said it, no regret came, only a feeling of utter validation. Indeed, what had changed since she had been gone? Ida was still sick and pregnant, Johnny was still fussy, Benny was still playing at cards, Bucky was still pushing Gale harder than any over the radio and her Cleven was cleaving to the damn thing like it were his god.

“I mean, tell me if I missed something essential!” She scoffed, “Some great development occur? Or was I needed for some great task you all missed me so desperately during? No? Didn’t think so. Because we don’t go anything in here except talk about getting out like it’s actually plausible and I’m sick as fuck of it and I-“ she pointed to herself, voice growing in volume as Gale’s own fury seemed to wane into something shocked and scared, “I have spent my day with men who have ingenuity and good humor and liquor, because they aren’t hopeless fucks like us. The Brit’s have a tunnel started, the Polish have one too along with a bathtub of potato peel vodka, and we have a pregnant colonel! Sto lat!”

It was terribly quiet for a moment, half the cabin's occupants intent on appearing discrete and the other half stunned into a sort of mortified offense.

“You gonna thrash her or am I?” Egan finally broke the tension, his head turning lazily to look at Gale, his mouth was grinning like he was eager and it made Maureen’s bruised cheeks flame. It seemed to be some private joke, Maureen could only tell by the way Cleven’s eyes widened in warning protest at his friend before biting his lip and sniffing harshly. Then the lights cut again and the place was plunged in darkness, it brought Maureen both relief at the obscurity and a strange feeling of terror at the pitch black surroundings. She still hated the dark, ever since those Gestapo cells.

“Take that filthy shit off and get in your bunk.” Gale’s voice so near and so sudden startled her, and it wasn’t rebellion that made her lag in response but he seemed to take it that way, the snap of his finger seeming dangerously close to her nose, and she felt his fingers pluck at her muddy coat, “Now, don’t test me, get in, now.”

She peeled it off and let it flop heavily to the floor before kicking off her boots with the same carelessness, and then taking a step up, digging her frozen toes into Benny’s mattress and hauling herself up to the next level, laying down with a shiver in the cold sheets. The quiet sounds of rustling and bedding filled the place, the others putting themselves away for the night too, but to her relief no one seemed to be murmuring about her. Then the bunk creaked again and the unmistakable feel of someone climbing in beside her made her gasp.

Gale, of course it was Gale, laid himself out atop her, like he planned to keep her there by his weight alone like Bucky had with Ida, and an odd feeling suddenly took possession of Maureen’s chest, one she hadn’t felt all day: she felt undeserving. His head was hard and awkward against her clavicle but she didn’t want to budge him, secretly and utterly grateful he was being kind, that he was not ignoring her. Maybe Ida was right and she was childish but if that were the case, what was to be done about it? She was as she was and she needed him, so tentatively after a few minutes, she withdrew her legs out from under his own and wrapped them around his hips, pulling him close all along her like they were mating, she meant it as a hug and she felt him limp and heavy between her thighs but she did not withdraw.

Gale waited patiently until the snores began, wind whistling outside so loudly it would cover their whispers, and she shuddered to think of herself being petty enough to try to sleep in that icebox. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.” he rasped at last, raising his head a little and trying to get a read on her in the semi dark. “Maureen, you can’t worry me like that, please.”

“I’m tired.” her voice was weak from the effort to hold back an ugly sob.

“You've been tired before.” he soothed, “What about today? What about last night? What’s all this? C’mon, you can tell me, I need ya to tell me.”

Maureen sighed raggedly, always a sucker for his cajoling voice, more so when she knew she deserved and expected the thrashing. “You don’t need me that way. You don’t need me at all.”

Gale dropped his head a little, his hand reaching up to pinch his nose, humiliation and impotence warring with need to assure her. “I'm sorry about that.” he settled for, “I’m too fucked right now, I admit it. It’s all just, it’s a lot, we’ve all got a lot goin’ on. You too, I know, I’m just not right up there, Maureen. Doesn’t mean I don’t need you.”

“You don’t need me during the day and you don’t need me at night.” she had tried to dissuade herself of this painful reality, truly! -but those were the facts as she saw them and it hurt her worse than him.

“I’m doing this for you!” he begged, his large hand cupping the side of her throat and she would love to think it a caress but he was only trying to make a point, one she contested vehemently in her heart. “I won’t be okay until you’re safe, baby.”

Maureen scoffed, thick and bitter, she had no child, she had no threat, she didn’t need to get out. “I don’t have any reason to get out!” She seethed back, “What’s in it for me? Besides you dead and me too, maybe I’ll get sent back to the Gestapo. That’ll be lark. I don’t need to get out, Major, I need-“

Gale was panting in her face, hot and hurried as her own ire rose with each word, “What do you need?” he goaded, and she could hear him lick his lips.

“I need you to pay attention to me.” she said it.

And to anyone else it would have sounded the most petty thing of all, but to Gale Cleven it was something he already knew deep down when he wasn’t so caught up in the imminent might-be’s of their situation, when he wasn’t needing to save Bucky from himself, or Ida from being put down or Johnny from whatever Greek hell that doctor had enlisted him in. He knew Maureen needed him, not his brains or what he could give, not really, she just wanted his flesh, and he had never bartered in that currency before her, having always assumed it was cheap if not with love. He was not sure he was loved but he knew it was not cheap, whatever it was they shared. And he knew she needed him. Just as he needed her, even though he could not manifest it as he wished.

He could kiss her, though. That he could do.

She did not expect the plush press of his lips when she saw him duck his head against the halo of window light. He kisses with intent and with reproof and the part of her that enjoys his anger begins to thrum to life as mercy and justice both battle in his kiss, his tongue all forgiveness and his teeth implacable rightness.

“Why?” she whines at him, feeling herself need and yet he lays between her legs useless as a girl, “why’re you when you can’t-“ she has insulted him enough today, she trails off with surprising tact.

“Don’t mean I don’t need you.” his voice has gone gruff like it does when he holds her head firmly and grinds his once hard cock down her throat, “Don’t mean your boy don’t want you.”

And that’s all she needed, really.

Along with the feeling of his fingertips walking down her bare stomach, his hand somehow sneaking its way through her layers undetected until now. It awakes a trail of fire down to her core, her core that is already ablaze by his kissing, his neglect, his language.

“My baby.” she moans in ascent, loudly and exultant and a little mournful.

“I gotchue, I got you.” he swears into her mouth and his hand wastes no time in slithering between her legs, elegant fingers cupping her and smearing her arousal around beneath his fingertips.

“Fuck them into me.” she begs, his hand swiping and rubbing at her heat until her hole clenches in desperation, wanting the burn of a stretch.

He is used to her instructions, they’d have accomplished nothing these last months without them, he is able to obey without ceding one bit of control in the kiss and the dichotomy of it, of him, makes her spiral as long fingers plunge, three at a time into her like he’s mad at her, and she cums from it alone with a hoarse cry of shock. He leans up and over her, hair aglow in the dim light and his hand beginning to slam again and again between her legs, forearm hard at work before he brings his wrist to her mouth.

“Bite.” he tells her, an offer and an order and she does, repaying him the vicious assault below her waist where she is tugged apart and jammed at with all too much finesse, his thumb swiping at the apex of her slit everytime he plunges knuckle deep. Gale knows by now the signs of her peak but he pushes beyond it, adds his pinky until all four digits wreak havoc and makes her go again. She uses his wrist out of necessity not to wake the whole place. The sounds of her squelching may have done it for her.

He pets her after, his palm warmed up by his work and it cups and soothes her as she jerks and jolts and settles, and his nose nuzzles her own sweetly, murmuring her name again and again just how she likes it.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” he begs between smooches and Maureen feels entirely too weak to deny him.

“Ok.”

“Promise?” his tone and his hand grow firm again.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” he sighs beside her and she thinks she could fall asleep now he’s wrung her out. He pets her a few moments longer, as if loathe to pull his hand free. He cups her one more time, collecting her wetness in the crook of his fingers before at last he does, carefully bringing his hand up and out of her waistband. He holds it in front of himself for a brief moment as if debating how to enact his thoughts, and she watches him curiously because he does not lick his digits clean like usual, perhaps she is too soiled tonight, even for his devotion.

Instead she watches him roll onto his back, hand still aloft and glittery with an obscene amount of sticky pleasure and his other hand trails to his own fly, popping the button deftly with his left hand and tugging down the fastening. Her breath catches in her throat, suspense and arousal at the familiar motion making her perk once more. Gale shimmies his clothing down his thighs until she can see him just barely, lying fat and peaceful against his thigh. He deserves a little peace, she thinks, now that she is not so cross with him.

She holds his gaze in startled suspense as he locks eyes with her, wanting her to stare when he moves his wet hand down and wraps it around himself, smearing her juices all over his soft member, clear and creamy swirls rubbed into the pink meat of him, down to his very balls.

“There,” he manages between her kisses as she assails him anew with desperate appreciation, “you’ve still got me. I’m still yours.”

She drags her hand down there to feel the sticky evidence of his promise, to rub and fondle him as he lays dormant in her palm. She has often snickered to him that he is too tidy to ever fully have sex, he has had qualms over even what they do with their hands, their mouths as well. He was pleased she could swallow only for the mess it prevented. She’s often told him he’ll find coupling a filthy business and he oughta brace himself. This tacky feeling under her palm is the closest they’ve ever gotten to the act, her fluids touching him there, drying on him. She appreciates the gesture, more than here heart can bear to ponder: she also knows he’ll regret it.

“I’ve got some amends to make.” she acknowledges after giving him one last kiss and checking that the coast is clear. Egan is doubtless still awake as usual and perhaps Brady, but it can’t be helped and she doesn’t give a damn. “Try to be quiet -don’t think too hard on it, it’s fine if this is all it is.” she preemptively cautions before he can realize what she intends.

She slinks down the length of him, careful not to jar the whole bunk, careful to keep a low profile to the blankets before dipping her head in the little nest of covers shoved around his thighs. Despite her assurances Gale makes a keening noise of confusion when her tongue darts out without preamble and licks up the seam of his balls.

“Maureen.” he sounds half strangled but his hand flies out, not to prevent her, but to pet her lustrous hair. She feels utterly content in that moment and continues her quest to tidy him up.

“You hate being sticky.” she reminds in a whisper before gently sucking on his soft tip, she can feel his belly heaving in relaxed sighs, the connection not fully alive and yet, potent all the same, he pets her hair more firmly and even pushes her head down further and she gets the hint, abandoning his soft cock head for the chubby vein beneath, licking stripes of herself off him.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” she whispers to the inanimate little thing, remembering how meanly she squeezed it the night before. “I swear we’re still friends.”

Gale vaguely registers her apology to his bits and bobs but he is genuinely more distracted by two glinting shards across the room that have to be Bucky’s blazing eyes. Trained right on him. Holy hell, he feels himself shake and the closest thing to a twitch animates between his legs before he throws his hand over his eyes and pretends he is very alone. He pets her head more purposefully, long, feminine strands slipping through his fingers.

John Egan once put a bet on how long it would take these idiots to learn they were in love. It was once all a bit funny. And now, seeing in a dim haze what appears to be the ritual of making up, it’s not so funny any more. Today could have gone far worse, any attention to the women was bad attention and having Ida have to make a scene while hiding a belly like that was nearly criminal in Bucky’s mind.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t glad for Gale. No, he was so glad he was half jealous watching, imagining more than even seeing. He wondered if Maureen knew how much she loved him, he wondered how it compared to his own, and he ached like hell.

Next morning Gale woke up with a sore spot on his chest from the weight of her head lying there all night, and to the tinkering sounds of the metal water jugs being jostled. There was a laugh and a responding “shh” and another stifled laugh following. He rolled his head on the pillow and blearily cracked an eye open, taking in Brady and Maureen over their task. Or at least, Johnny was trying while fighting some whispered bit of comedy that Maureen continued despite Johnny’s wheezing protests and incompetent fumbling with his handles.

“You ain’t bein’ quiet, if ya think you are.” Benny’s grumble from the bunk below said what Gale was thinking, but he was too relieved to see Maureen awake, cheerful and integrated again to complain.

“I’m telling him about a Romanian girl in the other sector, met her yesterday.” Maureen stage whispered and Brady began to lose it again, muffling his whole face into his sleeve, milk pail abandoned on the floor so he could laugh. “There’s a fence between and she’s a fighter pilot but she’s seen him at his laps and she wants him.”

Benny stayed quiet a minute before his own laugh started and Gale could feel the vibrations of it from a whole bunk below. “She put in an order or somethin’?”

“Practically.” Maureen drawled, “She was so relieved to meet an American so arrangements can be made for my fellow. She has cows back home Johnny, she’d trade ten for you. Those big Eastern European cows, straight from a storybook, it’s worth consideration.”

“Grab your jug.” Johnny insisted instead in a small wheeze as he collected his own and strode out, looking behind to ensure she was following and beginning to laugh at eye contact. Maureen threw her head back and guffawed that ugly little cackle of hers as she went out.

“I think we missed part of the first act.” Benny observed about the joke from below, Gale didn’t know what talent it was but his co-pilot always seemed to sense when he was awake, no checking needed.

“Yup.” Gale puffed into his pillow, not giving a damn about the content of her material only that some material was back.

Someone else who was shit at playing asleep was John Egan. Gale slunk out of his bed quietly to not awake everyone else and went over to the sprawled out form of his friend, Ida tucked behind his back and the wall, genuinely asleep despite the nicotine she had coursing through her. Gale reached out and flicked at an overgrown curl dangling over his friend's face, the return momentum of it tickled his nose and he sneezed on compulsion.

“Sleep well?” Gale asked as Bucky stared up at him, betrayed and crinkly faced.

“Was.” he accused.

“Talk?” Buck proposed in a monosyllable and he watched Egan’s raw morning eyes shutter closed into something as readable as millponds.

“Yeah, sure.” There was a series of grunts and heaves of effort as Bucky righted himself and finally pushed out of the bunk, “Hall?” he asked while contemplating just how little he wanted to don boots right now.

“Hall’s fine.”

They went out together, it was quiet in the hall despite the awakening rustle in the various rooms off it. It stayed quiet once they’d both taken a wall to lean against because Gale Cleven wasn’t good at broaching topics despite his bravery to initiate their surroundings. Egan had a sense what this was about, but then, things usually weren’t about the thing they were about, they were about another thing reflected in the thing and that’s where he got lost. But watching Gale Cleven take in a breath five times only to exhale and chew his lip got a little tedious, even by his standards for how much he enjoyed watching his Buck at anything.

If this was about being observed last night, Egan sure as fuck wasn’t gonna take the blame for seeing shit in a packed dormitory. Or, combine, barracks, whatever. So, a sentence like -sorry I watched you get licked at like a bowl of milk last night- didn’t reflect his sentiments at all. And he’d never lied to Buck, not once, except maybe about not social engineering his way onto planes during rough missions. So instead he went with an easy going, “Must be nice to almost get everyone killed then get rewarded for it.”

Gale’s eyes sharpened instantly but the harsh retort Egan panted for didn’t come, instead something tired took over and Gale pinched his nose. “We’re all goin’ a little looney in here.”

“Are we?” Bucky hummed combatively, “How you crackin’ up these days?” it wasn't fair his Buck had all this weight on him and a fussy woman besides.

“I’m havin’ an affair with a fellow officer.” Gale recited in a devastated montone, and Egan hadn’t expected such transparency. Not in criminal language.

“Well,” he ceded, “there is that.”

“And occurrences like last night are gonna need to keep happenin.” Gale was informing him and Bucky didn’t know what to do with that, his tone was that of an officer but his soft blue eyes flicked with a plea to be understood. “To keep her -tame. Some sorta sane. She’s like you, she wasn’t meant for this place.”

“Just last week you told me nobody was.” Egan pointed out just to be contrary but he couldn’t help his grin and Buck caught sight of it before he could suppress it, knowing the banter and its innate kinship was back.

“I need you to promise me somethin’.” Gale went on, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck and Bucky perked at the sight of that tick.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to promise to wait a week before you try anythin’.” Gale said, “You said I’d come up with somethin’ and I will, but I need a week Bucky. Give me that, can’t let you leave here without any direction of where to head toward. Wait on that radio, don’t you go off gettin’ yourself shot and Ida, too.”

A week in this place felt like a year, a week with an ever swelling woman felt like an eternity of valuable, crucial time. Bucky ran his bare toes over the splintering wood and tried to focus on the way the wood shards pricked at his frozen toes. “Alright.” he agreed, couldn’t help himself when Buck was looking at him like that and telling him he didn’t want him to die. “Alright.” He repeated more forcefully just to see Gale’s face clear and some old expression of peaceful relief smooth out his worry lines, not as much as Maureen’s tongue could do, Bucky wagered, but it was a little relief of his own he could give. “But you make a poor incentive for obeying you.” he pointed out cheekily, shoving off his wall to advance on Gale and shove a finger in those still full cheeks, “You gonna reward me if I disobey an’climb over on day six?”

Gale rolled his eyes, an expression all too pretty with his cheek distorted by Egan’s rough fingers, his eyes wary and loving all at once, Bucky had missed that look, it was coy as hell and one of his favorites on his friend. “Don’t count on it.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[hocuspocusbabyy]

A case of you: Eloise x Cressida. 🦢🕊️

Warning: Semi public sex? Resentment, internalised homophobia and self hate.

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x Cressida Cowper.

Description: Eloise and Cressida spend some time in the stables after a long winter apart.

Eloise lets her head rest against the walnut panelling. It was already late, maybe even early at this point. Yet the hours continued to draw on, unrelenting in their usual tiresome manner. She was very much over the situation. Watching Cressida meticulously brush her horse, the only sounds in the stable being the repercussions of a dandy brush dragging through hair before slapping against the blonde's palm.

“Must you insist on ignoring me?” Eloise gives her best pout, the book in her hand doing little to sooth her irritation as her question is met again with silence. “You’d rather I die of boredom? Before I get an opportunity to die of something more interesting? Maybe dehydration? What do you think?” Again silent, the blonde merely hummed a response, far too focused on the beast before her.

Her natural curls resting upon her shoulders as she worked, such an ethereal grace surly out of place in a room known to house after birth and manure. Both of which seemingly burned at the brunette's nose as she sighed again.

Reaching up Eloise grasped her nose tightly, welcoming the ease of breathing through her mouth to avoid the stench. “Even asphyxiation would be a welcome addition.” She mumbled as a piece of hay stuck itself upon her lip.

“I didn’t realise you found regular conversation with me so tedious.” Cressida mumbled, an unamused lilt to her voice as she gently tossed the brush into a bear by bucket. Stepping back with an infuriating grace, the blonde finally turned to see Eloise.

“Conversation by definition requires talking.” The brunette slumped upon a straw stack, arms folded as she huffed in response.

“Did you enjoy the journey?” Cressida asks after a minute. Eloise arrived that morning to enjoy the summer in the country with her family. Lord Debling had just so happened to have had the same idea for his new wife. Sending her off for the summer while we is away… yet again.

"Jesus Cress," Eloise moaned, raising on her elbows to view the other woman. “Why do you always do that?” The Bridgerton questioned after a moment, pleasantries could wait. This conversation had to happen now or the entire weekend would become considerably less bearable.

“Do what?” Cressida demanded as though Eloise were the most irritating thing to ever speak aloud.

“Employ pleasantries to avoid talking to me. We’ve barely spoken since last season.”

“We’ve spoken.”

“Pleasantries at the dinner table, or passing commentary at balls hardly count as speaking Ms Cowper.”

Cowper-Debling Eloise thought as the words left her mouth.

“And what is it you’d like me to say?” The blonde argued, busing herself with sweeping the stall. Eloise always found it odd how willingly Cressida took to stable work. A woman who wouldn’t even consider cooking for herself so a home with manual labour. Insisting on hacking her own horses and shooing away any staff that had offered to help.

“Maybe we could start with why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I’ve not been avoiding you.” Cressida laughed as though the idea of someone like her avoiding anyone would be laughable. “You’ve simply been preoccupied with Phillip, clearly it’s dulling your brain if you feel it necessary to ask me irritating questions so incessantly.” The blonde coming forward to lift a stack of straw into the staff.

“Hey.” Eloise frowned, reaching forward to yank the stack back towards her, the binding strings dinging into the flesh of her fingers as she forced the other woman to look at her. Refusing to let go of the straw without a real answer. Her free hand raising up to grasp the blondes chin. Eloise’s thumb hard upon the dimpled skin, her forefinger sweeping gently beneath Cressida’s jaw, “Sulk all you want Cress, but it doesn’t mean you get to talk so lowly to me.” Silence follows, seeping through their skin emitting its own harsh resonance.

“We’re getting old” the blonde huffed, her shoulder pressed firmly against the wall as she allowed the stack fall upon the ground with a thud. “And yet you’re not less annoying”

“What was that?” The brunette barked, a frown prominent on her crow-like features as her nails scratched at the blonde's neck.

“I said.” Cressida started tugging her face away from the other woman, “That you are still damn well annoying, you’d think in all the years stuck spending summer here together, we’d have found a way to rectify that.” She looked at her for moments longer than she necessarily intended to, the angled shot of the other being drawing her attention more than she’d like to admit.

Even after fifthteen years of studying that face, she had yet to discover every hairline fracture, map out every freckle or indention - as time always seemed to obscure things, in a matter of moments a space which she had been so sure of, could be completely different. This was one of things Cressida found so infuriating about the human face, nothing seemed permanent enough - yet with this one in particular she didn’t seem to mind so much, for what great honour it was to experience the ever changing countenance of Eloise Bridgerton… soon to be Crane.

“If you dislike me so, why don’t you leave?” The brunette mumbled into the pregnant pause. Her gaze fell down, her offending hand finding rest within her lap.

“I never said that your annoyance was to my disliking.” Cressida mumbled snatching the brunette's hand into her own, barely missing the smirk which befell Eloise’s face. Their fingers meld together, not yet clasped but merely moving against one another.

Eloise took note of the many rings that decorated the other woman, how they shadowed her bones, her perfectly nimble hands. It always struck her how something so delicate could belong to such strength.

“Then why is my possible marriage such a displeasure to you? You yourself are married and Lord Debling seems a fine Husband.” Eloise argued, her crown lowered to capture the gaze of the other woman.

“I think that maybe I just hate the fact he’s going to see you naked.” Cressida started almost nonchalantly, rolling her neck to the side to scratch the side of it - a nervous habit that didn’t go unnoticed.

Eloise smiled despite herself, surely there were worse reasons to be mad at someone. True it was hardly Phillip’s fault, though she doubted he wasn’t proxy to the matter, bowing her head leaning closer to Cressida.

"When was the last time you let someone touch you?"

Eloise’s eyes would have widened at the blonde's abrupt question, but they were slammed shut as the taller woman bit down on her neck "Cress" She spat out as a shade of red crept up her face from her chest.

Cressida chuckled, pulling back to look at her and shook her head, "Was it me? Lou?" she asked again, "Are you still mine? Or did you let someone else have you, while I was gone?"

Eloise looked down at the ground, she really didn't want to answer that question. She shrugged her shoulders before looking back up at Cressida, pouting similar to a scolded child.

"Just you."

"Huh-h" The taller woman replied. She continued to stare at Eloise, squinting her eyes in thought while she contemplated. "Are you mine, sweet girl?" She asked abruptly, allowing the built-up jealousy of months alone to consume her. Then just for a moment, all she could think about was the pain, the unknown, the wanting, waiting... she wanted Eloise to feel it too.

Biting down hard on the brunettes lip, her hand scratched the back of her neck

"Always," Eloise mumbled, before grasping Cressida’s hips pulling her down, straddling her over the hay bales- their mouths disconnecting with a pop. A sharp intake of breath alongside a hand under her chin informed Eloise that she was in fact bleeding. Her lip plump, salted, and slit two ways filling her mouth with a familiar coppery taste.

Looking up to meet the perfectly harsh gaze that despite her tone shone with tears.

"Damn." The blonde mumbled, dragging her thumb across her bottom lip, her eyes forced on the task at hand as she examined her handy work. A mixture of pleasure and undeniable guilt flooded her. Sitting up towards the brunette in the first sign of gentleness since they'd reunited, Cressida tenderly kissed the shorter woman’s throbbing lip as if a quiet apology. Her fists now wound tightly at her sides, as if she was scared by her own capabilities to cause harm.

There's my girl, Eloise thought for a second beneath all that hate and anger her love was still in there. But she needed this Eloise knew it, Cressida needed something to control. The blonde's whole world was crumbling, and if Eloise’s willingness, her submission, could help her with that - then that's exactly what she'd do.

She'd let Cressida Cowper use her until she was mere skin and bone, for there are far graver punishments in this world.

A guilty look struck across her face, Eloise couldn't decide what hurt her more, that look or her silence. Soon she reached out, her hand resting upon the blondes enclosed fist until it softened and their fingers became interlaced.

"It's okay darling" Eloise reassured gently resting her forehead against the blondes, "it's just a little blood, not like it hasn't happened before."

Cressida grimaced at that - she was right it had happened before, in moments of passion or hurry; but never in anger - Cressida had never intentionally hurt her.

"God you're even more beautiful than I remembered," Cressida whispered. A sodden hum to her voice as she finally allowed her hand to grace the span of the younger Bridgertons face. Not a single imperfection in its wake, the harsh swell of her lips only alienated her doe eyes more. As though animated, encapsulated by history.

Cressida found herself wishing for a pen, any means of replication. She’d draw her likeness upon the world and rain fury down upon anyone who dared touch it.

The younger woman gripped the blonde's hips despite herself, this how it feels to burn alive she thought.

How was it even possible that after all this time she seemed to have this effect on her?

Cressida had changed, yes, her hair was different - shorter. Her skin had untimely wrinkles that danced across her forehead - still Her Cress, she mused. As a hand edged out to rest upon the blondes cheek, a thumb grazed under her eye to remove any fallen tears she could see – like a painter perfecting a painting.

"Cress...I..." She moved toward her then, closing her eyes, but Eloise pulled away. "I-I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, she'd crossed the line. As though judgement had been switched back on, they were reminded of the situation beyond how much Cressida needed to feel in control of something again, beyond the blatant need to touch one another.

"No, I'm sorry," she insisted. "I just got caught up in the moment."

She'd never seen Cressida look embarrassed before and she hated being the one that caused it. She asked herself why she had backed away. This amazing, beautiful woman was standing in front of her and she had rejected her. For the past 12 months all she had wanted was to be right where she was at that moment.

The pair noticed that hands were still grasped tightly together. But neither could bear to push the other away. Eloise met Cressida’s gaze as the blonde lifted their enclosed hands to her lips and kissed them - a silent promise, a pact, acknowledging that out of everyone on this planet Eloise still trusted her. Cressida could have sworn she felt the brunette shiver at the motion, but that was neither here nor there because she kissed her.

Her lips were soft but strong. Eloise could feel her taking control again. She pulled her in closer allowing Eloise to straddle her more comfortably. She kissed down her neck, gently sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there. Eloise felt her throat vibrate as she let out an involuntary moan.

"Don't leave me."

The words had slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Cressida blinked back her tears, the wound in her heart she had tried so hard to heal had opened up again.

"Never," Eloise promised, her voice barely audible.

The blonde shook her head weakly, and her hand moved towards her but she changed her mind as it dropped to her side.

"But I did, Lou," she said, her voice hoarse. "I left."

She sniffled her legs swinging a little off the stack, and Eloise leaned over her. dabbing away the tears on her cheeks gently with her lips. Cressida could feel her fingers shaking as she cupped her face almost absent-mindedly and she let her. It had been so long since she had been this close to her.

"I'll make it up to you. I promise"

"Darling I don't think—-"

“Stop talking,” Cressida snaps as she roughly tugs Eloise’s dress up around their joined waists. Snatching at the front of her dress, still the spill of her cleavage came into view. Simply bypassing the snagged material as she pulled the ties away.

“You’re being awfully coercive,” she scolds without any malice. As Cressida nails dragged up along the flesh of her thighs. Tiny spirals of electricity sounded beneath the skin, as the brunette buckled forward.

Transfixed by Cressida sucking her thumb into her mouth. She hooks it over her bottom teeth. She ran the pad of her thumb along the rims of bone, each indentation an example of Cressida’s life, both with and without her. Every word spoken, each kiss revived, consumption in its entirety. Eloise couldn’t help but wish to be swallowed whole as Cressida’s tounge swirled against her knuckle.

“Is it working?” Cressida whispered, rising to sit up with Eloise in her lap. The thumb slipped from her mouth with a deafening pop.

Kissing, felt like coming up for air, finding rest after a long journey, coming home. Their kisses, messy and unrestrained, a rare and thin line between benevolence and delirium.

Eloise lets her hand run down the neckline of Cressida’s shirt, she often opted for less form clothing and gowns where she could. Far away from the beratment of the ton… of her family. She plants a kiss on her collarbone, counting each notch in her bones as her tongue dove within it. Eloise had no reason to hurry; worship was not a timely thing, every step of her day, each roll of her tongue was in sentiment, in prayer to one Cressida Cowper.

“Don’t,” Cressida says upon hearing Eloise moan. She never did quite understand how she’d ever become so lucky as to be loved by thee Eloise Bridgerton. She often found herself recoiling from the blessing, not harsh, not final, but unpredictable. Cressida had hurt Eloise more times then she’d like to admit. From being her first kiss their fourteenth summer, playing weddings in their youth and laying with her before all others.

She did not mean to continue running away, she’d never strayed from her though. Cressida was Eloise’s for every waking moment of their lives, even when they didn’t talk, even when they hated one another. Eloise Bridgerton and Cressida Cowper belonged to each other. In the cruellest, most maddening way.

Cressida and Eloise were always walking towards each other, no matter the path they were taking.

She guides Eloise’s face back to kissing her. A silent beg for not to be so gentle, she didn’t not wish to be worshipped tonight, she wished to be broken.

Eloise could no longer control the way her body yearned for solid ground. Her hips grinding down upon Cressida’s stomach, in brash unforgiving motions.

The blonde lifted her right leg to support her back. Her hands fall upon her lover's hips and she guides her down clenching her stomach to supply more pressure. A series of breathy sounds pooling between Eloise’s lips. With every movement, her cheeks grew into a glossy shade of pink, spreading rosacea throughout her body.

She opens her eyes and Cressida is looking at her open mouth. Perfectly plush and warm, she longed to feel them upon her skin. But this wasn’t about her, this was about Eloise.

This is everything she’s ever wanted.

“Oh my...” Eloise gasped, falling forward as a deft finger traced the heat between her legs, pushing Cressida down with her.

Eloise’s train of thought was cut off, the two of them turned to the door as the sound of approaching footsteps silenced them.

"Did you lock the gate?” Cressida asked her frantically, pushing Eloise to her feet. Pulling down their skirts.

"What gate?” Clutching at where the broken ties pooled at her breasts, began to push her towards the back of the stable, hoping whoever it was would not come in. It wasn't a big room and they did not have a lot of options.

"Get in!" she ordered gesturing towards the horse stall, and Eloise stared at her in confusion.

"What-in there?" She asked incredulously, pointing at the water troff.

Cressia rolled her eyes as she pushed her into the stall, hearing her groan as her leg hit the side of the door as it bolted shut. She mumbled an apology as she squeezed in with her, her hands firm upon her hips. Their breathing turned shallow, waiting to see if the footsteps would pass.

"This is the worst place you could have picked for us to hide in." Eloise started stretching up to peek through the metal bars, Cressida’s body falling to press her into the stall door. She stifled a gasp when she heard the doorknob being turned. The blonde's face found home within her hair, gently shushing her, nose pressed up to the brunette's ear.

Eloise began to think up a million excuses of what she'd say if they got caught.

"Would you stop moving? I can't concentrate!" she hissed. Cressida was offended by that. Her hands snaking down the press her pelvis into an Eloise from behind. They melted together, a seeming flow of limbs.

"I'm sorry to hear that but it's cramped in here, if you haven't noticed, and my leg hurts from standing like this!" She argued in a hushed tone. When Elise turned her head back towards Cressida, her nose bumped into the blondes, she teasingly flicked it up against her own before nuzzling in.

"You’re spectacular.” The brunette mumbled, her lips bumping along Cressida’s with each syllable. As though skimming stone across a lake. The promise of sinking imminent and shortening. “I love—-“

Before she could continue, Cressida had closed the gap between them, her lip brushing against hers ever so lightly. Drawn out and soothing, like draining bath water.

They'd forgotten that there was someone trying to get inside. Her fingers ran through Eloise’s hair as she drowned in her soft touch.

She craved this for 12 months.

Her entire life.

"I still hate you." Eloise supplied watching Cressida as she cared a hand through her tousled hair lovingly. Pulling at her baby hairs, before kissing her forehead.

"I know" the blonde nodded. "This doesn't change anything." Cressida latched on, her eyes fixed on the feeling of Eloise’s fingers upon her scalp.

"I know that too," Eloise replied through a sly smirk that crept up her face this time as she leaned up to kiss the other woman, willing Cressida to understand her.

The stable door was suddenly thrown open and they quickly broke away-

"Eloise? Cressida? What are you two doing in here?"

[shoyostar]

IT’S BEEN RAINING IN JAPAN .ᐟ

── TIMESTAMPS SERIES┊͙HAIKYUU!!

it’s been raining in manila, hindi ka ba nilalamig?

premise. when the storm clouds clear overhead, our love blooms. through the thunderstorms and rain showers, all i see and love is you.

content. haikyū!! / f!reader. timestamps series. rain as a central theme. 24 hrs clock. fluff (with some suggestive moments). standalone oneshots. most are set pre-timeskip.

notes. series updates irregularly. all oneshots are unrelated to one another. more oneshots tba.

series soundtrack. raining in manila : lola amour.

IT’S BEEN RAINING IN . . .

── MIYAGI .ᐟ ᥫ᭡

˳༄꠶ karasuno high.

[ 19:21 ] — sudden downpour.

⌗ shōyo hinata. tobio kageyama. kei tsukishima. tadashi yamaguchi. hitoka yachi.

[ 16:52 ] — when it rains, it pours.

⌗ kei tsukishima.

[ 6:37 ] — all four seasons.

⌗ sawamura daichi. koushi sugawara. azumane asahi. shimizu kiyoko.

˳༄꠶ aoba johsai high┊seijoh.

[ 18:37 ] — freshly mown grass.

⌗ tōru oikawa. hajime iwaizumi. issei matsukawa. takahiro hanamaki.

˳༄꠶ shiratorizawa academy.

[ 17:25 ] — sweet melodies.

⌗ eita semi.

── TOKYO .ᐟ ᥫ᭡

˳༄꠶ nekoma high.

[ 23:42 ] — last train.

⌗ tetsurō kuroo. kenma kozume. morisuke yaku. nobuyuki kai. shōhei fukunaga. taketora yamamoto.

[ 16:36 ] — shelter.

⌗ kenma kozume.

[ 03:24 ] — power outage.

⌗ tetsurō kuroo.

˳༄꠶ fukurōdani academy.

none yet!

˳༄꠶ itachiyama institute.

[ 10:39 ] — after hours.

⌗ kiyoomi sakusa.

── HYŌGO .ᐟ ᥫ᭡

˳༄꠶ inarizaki high.

[ 19:57 ] — fireworks.

⌗ shinsuke kita.

[ 18:25 ] — couch hog.

⌗ atsumu miya. osamu miya.

── NAGANO .ᐟ ᥫ᭡

˳༄꠶ kamomedai high.

[ 19:52 ] — fireflies.

⌗ sachirō hirugami. kōrai hoshiumi.

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

© SHOYOSTAR 2023 — do not repost, copy, translate or edit my works. do not recommend my account outside of tumblr.

[oneshotnewbie]

guess who’s baaaaack !! tis i ur fav anon /j

okay but on a semi-serious note,, i’m so sorry for not popping in i’ve been SWAMPED with BTEC performing arts work </3 i’ve also been starting to watch greys anatomy & private practice….. soooo hear me out :3

possessive/dark!amelia shepherd x fem!reader angst to toothrotting-fluff <33 write to your hearts content w/ my request <333

- ❤️‍🩹 anon <333

Authors note: Maybe it's not what you wanted, but I had some real problems with this request. Maybe it's not the possessiveness that you were hoping for, but I really didn't know what to write ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The living room, lit by lightning in a twilight state from a distant world, was filled with a tense atmosphere as you and Amelia faced each other. Your eyes met in a storm of anger and frustration, and every flash that twitched through the window was like a strike from heaven, adding more tone to the tornado of emotions raging between the two of you.

You stood with your arms crossed, your lips pressed into a thin line while your expression was stone. A tremor ran through your body, every muscle fiber tense with disappointment. The neurosurgeon, on the other hand, appeared calm, but her eyes sparkled with repressed emotion, her posture stiff with clenched fists and white knuckles that showed unrelenting tension. Her forehead erupting with wrinkles.

The air was thick with unspoken words, hanging between you like a heavy curtain of conflict as the lightning burst through the window shutters with loud rattling noises every second. Only in this brief, ephemeral brightness did the contours and outlines of your faces emerge in the pale light.

"That's ridiculous!" you roared, voice shaking with suppression. The words came out like an eruption from a long-dammed volcano, its lashing magma pouring down on the world and burying everything beneath it. "You can't just keep going and expect everything to be okay!"

"And what exactly do you expect from me?" Amelia shouted back exploding, breathing quick and shallow. Each word was like a punch in the air, the room literally shaking with the tension of each syllable while the coldness of her voice made the room icy and more frightening.

Your body language spoke louder than any words as you took a few steps forward, your jaw clenched tightly while your eyebrows were drawn deep into your forehead. Every muscle was tense, as if anger was manifesting itself in every part of your body and coursing through every vein. But the woman on the other side did not back away, stood with her head held high, her chest rising and falling quickly, her gaze challenging and yet full of pain.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the emotions boiling inside you like a raging storm. "I tried to explain to you how important this is to me, but you never listen to me when it comes to my needs!" you sobbed, your voice broken by the weight of the conflict. "This is so important to me and you act like you don't care!"

“Y/n, you’re completely exaggerating!” Amelia replied with firmness that hardly seemed to shake, but the undertone betrayed a hint of pain. Biting her lip hard, she looked away for a moment before looking steadily into your glassy eyes.

There was an unbearable silence in the room that separated the two of you further and was heavier than the words you had exchanged. The tension was like an invisible barrier between the two of you, yet it was palpable like an impenetrable fog. It stopped the two of you from approaching each other.

You burst into more tears, your body shaking with emotional exhaustion. "I can't accept that you see it that way. I can't go on like this anymore, it just hurts too much," you whispered, your trembling voice barely audible, your words cutting through the air like an icy wind. You swallowed hard, tears shining on your cheeks.

Amelia's shoulders suddenly dropped, her stomach sinking at the realization of what was coming. The expression on her face went from unfathomable anger to despair and disbelief as she lowered her gaze to the ground, a hint of regret growing in her eyes. "Y/n, please. Don't do this,"

“Maybe we should take a break,” you finally murmured, your voice thick with tears and filled with a painful thought about the rift that had hung over the two of you for months. "To give us clarity as to whether it all still makes sense."

Your words hung in the air as you both remained in a moment of paralysis, hearts heavy with the weight of the argument and the uncertainty about the future of your relationship. As it did, each flash cast an eerie glow across the walls and the shadows danced in wild patterns as if trying to mimic the relentless rhythm of your hearts. The natural spectacle seemed to plunge it into deepest darkness that triggered something in Amelia that she couldn't describe.

She walked towards you with slow steps before standing so close to you that a piece of paper barely fit between you. Her hand placed delicately and carefully on your wet cheeks, her fingers gently stroking your chin. "Am," you stated, knowing that settling an argument like that made things much worse and in no way solved the main issue. "We should really-"

"I hope you know that I'm only yours, right? Only yours," her dark and rough voice was deep with restraint as she whispered gently in your ear, her warm breath speeding up your heartbeat. Amelia already had you trapped and pressed between the wall and her own body, while her hand wandered dangerously close to your neck, ghosting over your delicate skin in slow motion. "Just because I work with a woman who flirts more than she works doesn't mean I reciprocate. I only belong to you.“

Her gaze flicked to your lips and she smiled dangerously at you. With the pad of one of her thumbs, she stroked your curved, provocatively attractive lips. Your breath hitched as the small touch sent a flutter of nerves to your stomach, goosebumps forming all over your body. Still, the anger, pain, and frustration of seeing Amelia and Eliza like that still lingered deep in your heart, an image you couldn't get out of your head. „Mhm,“

"Come on, y/n. Don't be naive. She just wants to get laid," you swallowed hard, blood rushing through your cheeks as she uttered the last sentence and your jealousy continued to skyrocket. „But the only one who will is you.“ she added to the previous sentence in a single shallow breath and a husky voice that made your knees tremble. 

Amelia´s hand shifted under your jaw before leaving trails of tingles, making you look directly in the warmth of her dark chocolate eyes. She laughed humorously as she ran her long fingers through your hair. „Y/n,“ she breathed, tightening her grip at the back of your head and you gulped, needing relief from the tension holding your body.

The world dropped away. Everything around you was a single blur, the only thing you could clearly focus on was her eyes locked on your own and the drumming of your pulse in your ears. You lifted a shaky hand to her chest, hearing her heart pounding rapidly against your palm. Her tongue darted across her lip, catching your gaze before our lips connected.

The kiss was slow, as though you both were content with savouring the waves of pleasure that washed over you. Amelia´s fingers on your hips shifted to trace your spine softly, the silent act of comfort warmed your hears as you tried to relax before she pulled away from you. "I'm sorry, my love. I don't want to lose you,"

[calimelontea]

the octotrio with an inkling!reader

❥❥am I splicing my current hyperfixation into a completely unrelated fandom bc the fresh season just recently dropped?? Yes. Is it going to be kinda awkward bc this is my very first fic on this page??? Also yes 👍But man is it gonna be fun to write, so I hope you guys will have just as much fun reading!

❥ the reader falls into this twisted wonderland unannounced and unprepared, but much to the student body's surprise, this new transfer student was... A squid? A kid?? It was anyone's guess, but for now it was decided that you would reside in Octainvinelle, seeing as you were a cephalopod of some sort. How do you fair in the ranks of the fish mafia?

Category- Fluff ☀

Content- semi platonic, Azul Jade and Floyd, you are an inkling from Splatoon

Azul Ashengrotto

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➼When you had first arrived at the dorm's doorstep, he couldn't deny his interest was piqued! Not only was he interested in seeing that squids had evolved their own little subspecies, but he also saw this as the perfect opportunity for profit!

➼A creature that can continuously produce different colored inks?? He's practically seeing dollar signs...

➼No doubt he'll probably ask for a little share of what's in your ink tank, and in return he'll provide you protection and some benefits in the lounge, (albeit some very miniscule ones. Can't lose too much profit, now can we?).

➼But nevertheless, it couldn't be denied that your presence in the lounge had certainly brightened the atmosphere. Now not only can one make shady business deals, but they also get to watch this strange little squid creature run around and obsess over anything it deems "fresh".

➼Eventually though he would begin to warm up to you and see you as a bit more than a walking money bag, especially after the overblot incident. You offered him a helping hand and a friendly smile, even when he was hardly deserving of forgiveness, and he will always be grateful for that (though he will never admit that a loud).

➼He's always sure to keep watch over you, whether it be him in person or the twins, and if someone dares to cause you any trouble... Whew boy, they better hope they can handle a good squeeze.

➼Anytime there's something you want to show him, you'd better believe he's dropping what he's doing to look (within reason ofc), and if you manage to bring him something of extra value, he's sure to praise you and treat you to something from the lounge's menu.

➼Most of your time together is just you dragging him along to look for something fun to do, and although a lot of times he would rather be back at the lounge counting up earnings or advertising new business opportunities, he just can't say no to that face...

➼Overall he'll likely be your safest bet as long as you're willing to sacrifice some ink and maybe your free will 👍

Floyd Leech

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

➼When you first arrived, he just thought you were the silliest lil creature! It didn't matter to him if you were human or squid, he just wanted to squeeze you and play with you.

➼And squeeze you he will, you better be watching your back all times of the day bc this man can and will ambush you with the most bone-crushing hug in existence. You don't even have bones and yet you feel the structure of your very being squashed like a water balloon.

➼He takes a liking to you almost immediately out the gate, assigning you the nickname "squidling" since he already nicknamed someone else "squid", and you change colors way too often to assign a colored type of squid.

➼Instead of you dragging him around, now it's his turn to drag you. Will literally snatch you from wherever you are, whether it be your dorm room or even class, and run off to wherever sounds the most fun in the moment. (R.I.P Grim, you're on your own)

➼Literally has 0 idea what you're saying (inklings speak a special kind of language), but will absolutely pretend to know what you mean. Will have an entire full blown conversation with you even if, with context, the conversation doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

➼Likely will go out of his way to get something for you if he believes it's something you'd find "fresh". Mans is gonna come to your dorm with like 20 shiny rocks, some shirts and a thingamabob or two and you're keeping ALL of them.

➼Can and will try to make you swim somehow due to your squid features. It will not go well.

➼You're probably one of the very few people that can pull him out of his bad moods without bribery or blackmail. Legit just start talking to him about anything random and he'll give you one of those legit scary smiles and squeezes onto you like you've just given him the best news of his life.

➼He's a pretty alright option if you don't mind being a caprisun under a hydraulic press. Just... Stay alert.

Jade Leech

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

➼Mans is literally scary, why would you pick him???? /j Much like Azul, he's very curious about you when you first arrive in Octainvinelle, but instead of profiting purposes, he more or less wants to study you.

➼He's very curious about what it is that makes you tick. How did squids evolve to produce a specimen like you? Are there more of you? And if so, have your species formed an intricate society? Where does your language originate? Do you have a similar intestinal structure to humans or merfolk???

➼Bro has probably thought about dissecting you at least 40 times and counting, but because it's heavily frowned upon in a school setting, he's decided against poking around in a squid-kid cadaver. For now...

➼Until then though, he ensures he's as hospitable as he possibly can be, while also leaving some room for learning about your unique culture.

➼This means he will likely be one of the very few students to start picking up on your language, as well as understanding your behaviors/mannerisms.

➼It was during these studies of his that you two developed a sort of trade system. You would bring him some wild mushrooms or any plants that look interesting, and in return he will buy you something "fresh" from Sam's shop, with a reasonable price tag ofc.

➼And due to this mutually beneficial system, it didn't take long for the two of you to become good friends. It wouldn't be very often you would see this tall eel man without his tiny squid companion, especially when it comes to his mushroom garden. Congrats, you have entry to the sporehouse 👍

➼This also means you two get to share your special interests with one another. You get to spend time with him creating mini terrariums and growing shrooms, and in return you can teach him how to play turf war (the second he gets the hang of it you will constantly get your ass beat).

➼He's a pretty sound option over time, but you should NEVER be alone with this man with lab equipment. Never trust a man who enjoys clam blitz.