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azrielbrainrot · 2 months

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

Text

Wild Horses

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Doctor!Reader, Soap x Reader Part 2

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4

A/N: Y’all have asked and y’all have received. Enjoy! Let me know what you guys think, I always love to hear your thoughts! Reblogs are much appreciated! 😊💜

Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Warnings: language, fluff, angst. This one might be a little sad and Ghost is a bit of an ass-jerk so be prepared.

As mentioned before, Ghost completely stays clear of your vicinity after stepping out of your office. It’s not that he hates you. He’s just slightly irritated. With himself? Or is it you and that pretty face of yours and your comforting voice and your goddamn politeness and your accent. To be honest, the whole team adores your accent. He can’t tell. Remind you, this is a man who has probably never been shown any affection or tenderness so don't expect him to fall for you on the spot. This man needs therapy, like a lot of therapy. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to go through whatever it is he is feeling, finding the whole thing to be an inconvenience really. And because he doesn't know how to understand or face whatever these emotions are, he just buries it. It's easier for him that way.

Poor dude couldn’t even sleep last night, staring at the ceiling of his room and haunted by the idea that he accidentally offended you. This man may have a cold exterior but your scalpels are colder and sharper than the devil's jawline. He almost couldn’t blame you if you decided to inject some foreign substance into his bloodstream and make the whole thing look like it was a stroke. Wait, could you do that? Bloody fucking hell. This man spends too much time with his thoughts I swear.

The man spends the whole night trying to assess his feelings, or rather his attraction towards you, convinces himself you're just another pretty face. The man may be touch-starved but he knows there are other methods to handle his needs, even though it's been a long time since he's slept with a woman, like a really long time. But even then, that situation was different. There was never any intimacy involved, like a quick business transaction that finished just as quickly as it started. It only left him feeling as empty as he was before. Not to mention, he doesn't do well with human interaction and that one and only moment he had with a woman daunted him more than it needed to, and so he has remained abstinent ever since. And if he were being honest with himself, you're just a distraction. And how do you handle distractions? You steer clear of them.

So what does this man do? He does what he intended to do. He avoids you at all costs. Oh, is that you walking towards their small, makeshift kitchen to fix yourself a bagel in the morning? Guess what, he’s doing a full 180 and lurking behind a wall like Michael Myers and his stupid hedge, waiting until you’re finished so he can make himself his morning tea.

Not only that but he makes sure to take extra good care of himself, Vitamin C supplements or multivitamins, whatever it takes to keep himself in best health. He even looks up on Google for extra tips to prevent himself from having to send himself in. He had heard of the saying “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” and goes out of his way to buy an apple during his morning runs. But the poor chap has it all mixed up because when you walk into your office the next morning, you're surprised to see an apple just sitting there on your desk.

Ghost doesn't know that it's supposed to be the other way around and that the apple is actually supposed to be for himself. He doesn't bother to search up the meaning, nor does anyone bother to tell him because they don't even know that he's doing it in the first place. So every morning he goes on his run, he goes out and buys an apple, and so every morning you find one placed on your desk.

The first time you saw the fruit sitting there on the table where you worked, surrounded by your scattered paperwork, you were confused no doubt. You picked it up curiously in your hand, inspecting the bright red fruit before giving a shrug and biting into it, after you wash it of course. You think it's just a small little token of thanks from one of the men. Possibly Soap considering how flirty he was yesterday. Alejandro doesn't seem like the type to give fruits. He's more of a red rose and a bottle of wine kind of man.

But as days go by, each day you find an apple sitting on your desk. And as thoughtful as this gesture is, at this point, considering the amount of apples you've eaten, you're either going to have serious digestive issues or die of cyanide poisoning, as if you don't already have IBS. So what do you do? You start to collect the apples each morning, deciding to throw in your own twist to this gesture until one evening, the men come back from one of their missions to find a freshly baked apple pie and a stack of paper plates and some utensils sitting out on a table for them, including a small little card with the handwritten words "bone apple tea". What in the hell.

"What in the fucks is bone apple tea." Gaz scrunches his nose at the writing on the little card.

They're all standing around at the table staring at the pie with confusion written across their faces. All except Ghost of course, the way his eyes slightly widen once he sees it. His gut is telling him you're behind it. Hm I wonder what gave it away.

"What’s this?" Alejandro asks, tilting his head at the thing.

"Looks like apple pie." Gaz answers.

"Yes I know that." Alejandro remarks. “But what is it doing here?"

"Doubt it's from any one of you muppets." Price speaks up. He knows damn well none of these men know how to bake. There’s only one person here whose hands are skilled or nimble enough to make the braided trim on that crust. Not to mention the detailing in the center, like the way you carefully placed little leaf designs made from the crust on top of the braided design. Yup this was definitely you, unless someone else here had a secret talent they had been hiding.

Literally why are these men acting like the pie has poison it. As if Graves sent it or something. Just shut up and eat the pie before it gets cold you himbos.

"So who made it?" Soap asks, looking towards the others for answers.

"This," Alejandro chuckles after finally realizing, "this was made by the hands of a woman."

"Who, y/n?" Gaz quirks a brow, you're the only woman here.

How in the hell did you get the means to bake a complete fucking apple pie in a place like this? They always heard doctors have skilled and steady hands but what the actual fuck.

"Well don't mind me." Soap literally cuts a big ass slice for himself before going off to devour the thing.

The boys watch Soap basically almost moan once he takes a bite of your pie as he goes off yelling out something along the lines of "well tidy scran", before helping themselves to a slice.

Ghost is the last one to cut himself a slice. He was hesitant at first before finally giving in, plus he also got back from a mission and he's hungry. So when he digs in his fork and has his first taste, it's kinda like that scene from Ratatouille where the food critic Anton Ego finally takes a bite of Remy's food and is reminded of his childhood, except Ghost doesn't have a childhood.

Let me tell you these men are obsessed with your pie and are practically fighting over the last slice like a pair of siblings so don't be surprised when you wake up the next morning to the see that the plate that your pie was in is completely empty without a single crumb in sight. Jesus. Did they lick the table down too?

Also I think you may have just given Ghost a newfound sweet tooth. When he went back to his room that night, he's debating on whether he should keep his daily routine of giving you apples, so far it’s kept you away. What he doesn’t get is that you made a whole damn pie out of the apples he gave you when they were actually supposed to be for you, or him, if you look at it from his distorted perception. But wait. What if you know it's him, and that's why you made the pie in the first place? A way to a man’s heart is not only between the forth and fifth ribs, but it’s also through his stomach. And as much as he wants to deny it, he also kind of secretly wants you to bake another one. It's almost as if he's completely forgotten why he placed those apples on your desk in the first place.

So what do you see when you wake up the next morning? An empty plate and yet another apple sitting on your desk. Okay what the fuck. You've let it slide all those times but now you have got to know who's pulling this shit. It’s not that you hate apples, but the conception that you have no clue who’s behind this is making you start to view the poor defenseless fruit as an object of taunting and torment. And to be honest at this point, you're beginning to think this is some kind of joke. So with the apple in your hand, you head towards the common area where the others are currently settled.

“Okay who did it?” You call out once you enter the area.

Crickets chirping.

All heads snap towards you to see you standing there with an apple held in your hand. They're almost stunned to see you wandering about. They rarely ever see you since you're usually locked up in your office or your room.

The men have done a lot of shit so just what is it that are you asking. They stare at you with not a single thought behind their eyes, that is until their blood runs cold at what happened last night. Was the pie not meant for them? Shit.

“Did what?” Gaz gulps, trying to play it off as nothing happened.

"Who keeps leaving apples on my desk like I'm about to host a county fair?"

"Come again?" Price asks, not that he didn't hear you, but it's probably the most anyone has heard you speak that isn't related to your work. Not only that, but they’re so used to hearing your “doctor” voice that your normal voice is a whole pitch lower and almost sounds foreign and alien to their ears. Not that they’re complaining because they honestly love hearing it.

"Someone has been leaving apples on my desk every single day." You repeat yourself more slowly. "And I'd like to know who."

So you're not mad about the pie.

Ghost immediately snaps his head away from your direction and nearly chokes on his tea. It's almost a miracle he doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he turns away.

The others are still staring at you, a tad bit scared of the expression that sat on your face. They couldn't make out if you were upset or not.

"Well?" You ask, leaning against the doorframe with your hand stuffed in your coat pocket while your other hand tossed the apple about in the air.

"Couldn't be me." Soap answers.

The others shake their heads as you squint your eyes at each and every one of them, trying to decipher the culprit. "Whoever it is, I will find out." You take a bite out of the apple before tossing it to the nearest person, who happened to be Alejandro, before starting to leave the area.

Alejandro catches the apple between his hands, staring down at the fruit with a chuckle to see where you had bit into it before taking a bite of his own.

Soap can't help but clench his jaw at Alejandro's cockiness. Ghost just turns away unbothered, it’s none of his concern. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

"Wait you're not mad about the pie?" Gaz calls out after you.

"What pie?" You turn back.

Wot

"The pie....from last night."

"I have no clue what you're talking about." You put on your best innocent expression before walking away.

The men snap their heads towards each other. Have they been poisoned? The longer they stare at each other, the more panicked they get.

Alejandro glances down at the apple you had thrown in his hands and is so close to spitting out the bite he had taken.

"I'm kidding." Your voice nearly makes them jump out of their skin as they turn to see your head popped through the doorway. "The pie was from me." You walk away again before turning back around. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have your blood results so if you're free, come see me when you get the chance."

Shit. Ghost thinks to himself after hearing you mention the blood results. He is hoping his blood sample got demolished in some shape or form, but the way you didn't even try to pull him aside to break the "unfortunate" news tells him otherwise. He's just not going to show.

The men watch you walk away in silence after your little moment of humor. They almost don't know how to react. The way the warmth of your voice blended with the obscurity of your words threw them in for a loop.

All except Ghost have no clue who has been sending you apples, but whoever it is that is sending you the fruit, they think that person is trying to win you over. So what started out as some misunderstanding on Ghost's end has now turned into this whole peacocking ordeal. Now it's a competition of who gets you better gifts in order to gain your affection, mainly Soap and Alejandro and even Gaz, but mostly Soap. Price still shows you appreciation for your work and what you do in his own way.

Poor Ghost was just trying to manifest "an apple a day keeps the doctor away". So who’s gonna tell him?

Anyways, when you return to your office to work on your paperwork, the boys go out to get you a little something before meeting up with you to go over their bloodwork results. Despite Soap and Gaz's efforts, Alejandro is the first to leave and the first to return. And just as Soap returns with his little gift for you, Alejandro beats him to it, a smirk playing on his lips as he enters your office with a red rose in hand. Poor Gaz wasn't able to find you anything special so he gets you a cool looking rock he saw instead.

Soap is practically fuming. If you squint hard enough, you might see smoke coming out his ears.

You hear a knock on your door and look up from where you sat at your desk to see Alejandro stepping into your office, a sly smirk on his lips as he holds out a rose.

"Alejandro." You quirk a brow. "What's this?"

"For you, hermosa."

"Oh?" You cock your head back in surprise as you take the rose from his hands. "What for?"

"Oh just a little way of showing appreciation." Alejandro leans against your desk.

"Why thank you Alejandro" You blink, trying your best to push down the blush that tries to creep itself onto your cheeks.

"My pleasure."

You decide to place the flower inside the empty vase you had already set out from before when you moved your things in. "I had been meaning to get some flowers to brighten up the area."

"There's no need" Alejandro smirks. "I'm afraid the rose doesn't compare to you. You do that all on your own."

Little do you know Soap is listening in on the whole thing with a frown. If he pressed his ear any closer he'd fall right through the door. Sure the Scots have their special charm but Alejandro is different and has the most rizz out of all of them, and Soap is fully aware and has always heard they make better lovers and that only adds to his panic.

Now you're definitely not able to hide the heat that spread through your face. You can't tell if it's the state of being flustered or just social anxiety. Well they weren't wrong about Alejandro having a way with words. "Geez, thank you Alejandro. But there really is no need for flattery."

"For you, anything hermosa."

Omfg this dude.

You look away from his strong gaze, managing to shove your flustered state away and stopping yourself from releasing the sharp wit you inherited from your father. Clearing your throat, you open up his file. "Well that really is kind of you Alejandro. And since you are already here, I have the results from your blood work."

"Oh? Everything should be good yes?"

"Well yes, for the most part but-"

"But what?" Alejandro looks confused. What's wrong with his blood?

"Your cholesterol levels are pretty high." You open up his file and read over his results.

"They are?"

"I'm afraid so, but not at a dangerous level. You should probably cut out some of that fried food and red meat and watch your butter intake. Nothing too serious though. Add some greens into your diet, as well as some nuts and whole grains and definitely more fruits and veggies and you're good to go." You hand him a copy of his results before giving a look of grimace. "But watch out on the fiber though. Too much of it can lead to increased bowel movements."

"Increased what?"

"You know, a case of the shits."

The way Soap pulls his ear away from the door and slaps his palm on mouth to keep himself from letting out the most offensive laugh known to mankind. If only you could have seen it. Is he going to bring this up in Alejandro's presence? Maybe.

Alejandro looks over the papers you gave him. "Wait really?"

"Yeeaaah." You give the poor fellow a sympathetic smile. "But hey, everything you need to know is right on those papers, so as long as you cut out the foods mentioned and get a higher intake of the others listed, you'll be back to normal in no time."

"Oh uh. Thank you y/n. I appreciate it."

"Anytime Alejandro." You smile. "You know where to find me."

The way Soap nearly trips over himself as he backs away from the door after hearing footsteps, as if he wasn't eavesdropping on every thing.

Alejandro opens the door and walks out of your office, eyes glued to the papers while Soap is just standing there trying not to be noticed.

The moment Alejandro is out of sight, Soap goes over and knocks on your door.

"Come in." You look up and smile to see Soap. Over the course of the few days since you first arrived here, you were to quick to warm up to the young Scotsman, finding comfort and humor in his personality. You enjoyed hearing him talk about just about anything, and his accent always helped to make whatever he had to say all the more interesting. It really is a good thing he does most of the talking since you make a better listener and love to hear what others have to say.

Soap knows you don't talk much and how you prefer to listen and hear stories, so he always makes sure to keep you entertained. This man is 100% golden retriever energy. Also he calls you lass and lassie and you just eat that shit up, he loves how you blush and that small restrained smile appears on your face whenever he says it. Don't worry, so would I. "Soap! You can have a seat if you want, this will be brief."

"Oh uh, I've actually got you something." Soap hands you a small box.

"Oh?" You quirk a brow as you take the box from his hands? What is it with everyone giving you gifts? Are they in on something you're not? "What is it?" You ask as you open the small box to see a bunch of what looks to be biscuits.

"Scottish shortbread." Soap smiles, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "I brought them along with me from back home but I thought you'd like them with your morning coffee."

"Wait, are you sure you don't want them for yourself? I feel bad."

"Nah. I can always get more.......if-when I go back home. You keep em. It's for ya. Think of it as a welcoming gift.....for all ya done, and the pie ya made for us."

"Soap, I don't know what to say." You give the man a heartfelt smile. "Thank you.....really, it's very thoughtful of you. It'll give me a variety from my bagels."

"Don' mention it." Soap places his hands behind his back before noticing a small framed picture you had set up on your desk that definitely wasn't there before. "Is that you?"

"Hm?" You raise you brow to see what he is referring to and seeing him gesture to the photo.

"Oh. Yeah, that's me as a little girl." You glance at the photo as a soft smile appears on your face. It was a picture of you when you were a little girl around the age of 5, when your dad took you on a camping trip to Zion. The two of you were sitting near the tent he had set up overlooking the mountain range with you sitting in his arms while he played his guitar, wearing that same old baseball cap of his that you had grown accustomed to seeing as you grew up. The longer you looked at the picture and relived that core memory, glancing at the crooked grin that sat on your little face and the way your father beamed, the more your face began to match the fond look that radiated off your father's eyes as he looked down at your giggling state.

"That's quite the smile you got there." Soap teases, chuckling at the expression you held in the photo.

"Oh please." You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he was joking about. "I know I looked goofy. My baby teeth were falling out."

"And that's yer dad?"

"Yup. That's my old man."

"Ya have yer father's eyes." Soap smiles at you, knowing now where you inherited that certain warmth held in your eyes that was able to put the coldest man at ease by just one look.

You let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at the ground to blink away the tears that have yet to form before looking back up at the soldier. "I've been told."

"Where was this taken? The scenery is absolutely braw."

"That was taken at Zion National Park in Utah. My dad had taken me there on a camping trip."

"It's absolutely gorgeous."

"Maybe I'll take you one day."

"Ya mean it?" Soap turns towards you, a grin forming on his face.

"Why not? It's been a while since I went, not since the photo."

"I think you've just made my day lass." Soap smirks before turning to the other photo. "And I'm guessing that's you as well." Soap gestures to the other photo of you around your middle school years that your dad had taken of you, wearing a wet suit as you sat on your surfboard, a grin on your face and your hair matted with salt water while one of your hands formed the shaka sign. "I dinnae ken you surfed."

"Oh yeah, surfing was my life. This was back when I had caught my first wave in Hawaii. My dad was so proud. Took me out for shaved ice right after and couldn't stop bragging to everyone there about how effortlessly I had tube ridden that thing."

"Your dad sounds like a great man."

"The best."

Soap notices the way your smile ever so slightly dropped at one of the corners, as if some sadness had managed to overcome whatever memories that lied in your head so he clears his throat, deciding not to press on the subject any better. "So how does my blood look?"

"Good actually." You blink, his statement reminding you of what you were going to do since he stepped into your office in the first place. "Your levels are all pretty balanced." You hand him a copy of his results. "As for the muscle cramps you mentioned, try to get a higher intake of electrolytes like potassium, magnesium, and calcium. And most importantly, don't forget to stay hydrated and drink lots of water."

"Aye ma'am. I'll make sure of it."

"Thank you Soap."

"No, thank you." Soap gives you one last smile before heading out. "I'll see you around."

"Bye."

It was not long after Soap left that Gaz entered next followed by Price, hearing you go over their results with intent ears. You actually really loved the little rock Gaz had given you, he had even drawn a smiley face on for you. You thought it was really cute despite his embarrassment in not finding you something better. And after the two left, there was only one person left that had yet to show up at your door. Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

Not wanting to pressure the man who looks like he'd stab you for looking at him the wrong way, you decided to stay at your desk, working over some paperwork of your own until the time comes when he decides to show up whenever he sees comfortable.

Picking up your mug, you decide to get some more coffee, leaving your office and heading to the kitchen area to brew yourself a new cup. Looking up from your feet, you see Ghost walking walking in your direction in front of you.

"Ghost!" You call out to him, or as much as you can call out. You never were one for raising your voice, despite the many times your previous teachers had urged you to speak up, displeased with the way you preferred to keep to yourself as opposed to your more extroverted peers. But even when carrying out their commands to speak louder, you always hated doing so, thinking it drew too much attention towards you. It's a wonder you got through med school and became a doctor in the first place.

Ghost had heard you calling out his name and immediately his muscles tense. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him because that only meant one thing, being dragged into your office to go over his blood results until something else insulting slips from his lips. I promise he doesn't hate your guts! So in order to evade you, this man does the first thing that comes to mind, he walks straight into the nearest room, which just so happens to be the shared showers. Simon you dumb fuck. Let’s hope Price isn’t butt ass naked in there for Simon’s sake.

You blink, standing there with your mug that your friend from college thought would be funny to gift you when you started med school, the one that had the words "I have a PHD" in bold colorful letters with the finer print "pretty huge dick" right below it (of course you never used that mug back at the hospital or else you'd hear about it).

So with your mug in hand, you watch the masked man walk straight into the room where the shared showers were. Huh. Well that's weird. You try to give the man the benefit of the doubt, thinking he just did not hear you. Maybe he'll stop by later. So shrugging off what just happened, you head into the kitchen to make yourself a fresh cup of coffee. God an iced coffee sounds good right now.

Once you had headed back to your office, finishing up your work and taking little breaks in between to read your book or snack on something, an hour turned into two, and so forth. Until you looked at your clock and it was already past the time of sunset. Jesus. Where did this dude go? Getting up from your chair, you step out of your office, holding the door open and seeing not a single soul headed in your direction. What in the-

With furrowed brows, you step back into your office, staring down at Ghost's results that just sat there waiting to be picked up.

"Goddamn it." You hiss between your teeth. You have no idea what his issue is or why he avoids you as if you spit in his fruit loops or tea or whatever. But if he keeps this up, it could interfere with your own job. Looking around at your desk, an idea pops into your head as you grab two things that lied there, a sticky note and a two dum-dum lollipops, a sugar cookie flavor and a butterscotch one.

Heading out of your office, you head towards where the men's rooms are located before stopping at a certain particular one, surveying the area around you to make sure no one sees you before staring straight at the door in front of you. Taking out your pen, you write on the note "please stop by my office when you get a chance", making sure to add your initials in the corner before taping it to his door along with the two lollipops, hoping the candy will be some sort of bribe.

"God I hope this works and he doesn't shoot me in the head." You mutter out before heading back to your own quarters that was separate from the men's due to standard protocol. Throwing off your coat and your clothes, you threw on an oversized t-shirt and some sweats, eating a microwaveable dinner in your own room before getting ready to go to bed. There was nothing you craved more than to collapse onto the mattress and bury yourself under the covers. And as you finished brushing your teeth, turning off the lights and getting into a comfortable position under your blanket, all you could do was stare at the ceiling above you.

Little did you know, that same night, in that same moment, there was another who could not sleep, staring at the ceiling as you did now. He had saw the note that you had left him on his door, as well as the two lollipops. It almost annoyed him, whatever it was you were showing towards him. And it did not help that the note had smelled of you, of that perfume that oh so enriched his senses. The man literally has your note laying on top of his bedside table along with the lollipops. He'll throw it out first thing tomorrow he tells himself.

"Oh come the fuck on." You moaned as you turned over onto your side but to no avail. No matter how hard you tried to shut your eyes and shut out any thoughts that attempted at keeping you awake, you just could not fall asleep until you finally give up. "Jesus fuck shit fuck." You hiss to yourself as you throw the blanket off you, sitting up on your bed and throwing on your sweatpants before getting up. Usually on nights like this where you couldn't sleep, you'd find a way to calm your nerves, whether it be reading or drawing or listening to a comforting audiobook.

So, grabbing your pillow and blanket, you open up your closet and grab your father's acoustic guitar, going back over to your bed and staring at the framed photo of your dad that sat on the bedside table before taking that with you as well. Leaving your room, you make sure to be as quiet as possible, looking both ways before heading up towards the roof of the building.

When you were little and had trouble sleeping, your dad used to take you outside to where the two of you had built a little fort, where the two of you would lay under the stars, brushed over by the cool night breeze as he played his guitar, singing old folk and slow classic rock songs until you finally fell asleep. And as you stepped onto the roof, craning your neck to stare up at the stars above you, you were reminded of those moments and the peace it gave you. Setting your bedding down, you prop the picture of your dad up next to you before sitting down with the guitar in hand.

"Hey dad." Your voice is a whisper as you look down at the photo of your father beside you. The photo was taken not even a month after you were born. He had taken you to the fire station he was stationed at, excited to introduce his team to his new precious baby girl, his first child. You could almost say it was your favorite photo of him, sitting on the front bumper of the firetruck in his uniform with you bundled up in a pink blanket in his arms.

"I know it's been a bit of a while since we've last talked." You sigh, forming your fingers into a chord on the fretboard of the guitar. "So to make up for it, I'm going to sing you one of the songs I always used to sing. You know the one, it's one of my favorites, and yours too."

Despite his efforts to fall asleep, Simon had ended up stepping out of his room, walking about the grounds to somewhat ease his mind. This was obviously nothing new to him, he always had trouble sleeping. And during those nights he had trouble sleeping, he'd take a walk to help clear his head. He found comfort in the silence of the night, when everything and everyone was asleep. He would usually go to his favorite spot on the rooftop, where he would seek refuge under the obsidian skies and the silver stars.

As he goes up the stairs that lead up to the roof, he stops at the sound that comes from beyond the door, what sounds to be someone singing and strumming the guitar. Curious to know who the hell had taken his spot and had the radio playing, he goes up further to investigate. So imagine his surprise when he finds you there instead, wrapped up in your blanket and strumming against your guitar, singing The Sundays cover of Wild Horses.

"Childhood living is easy to do The things that you wanted, I bought them for you Graceless lady, you know who I am You know I can't let you slide through my hands" Your voice is ethereal as you sing out the lyrics, your face molded into these deep emotions you can't quite explain.

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild horses couldn't drag me away

I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain And now you've decided to show me the same No sweeping exits or offstage lines Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away

Faith has been broken and tears must be cried Let's do some living after we die

Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday."

During the entirety of the song, Simon stands there in the distance behind you, hidden in the shadows, entranced, and can't seem to explain the tingles he feels washing over his body. He thinks he has intruded upon you and wants to leave you to your solitude in what seems to be an intimate moment for you, and yet he can't seem to be able to get his feet to move. Instead he's watching you with this newfound interest. He had never expected you to play the guitar as you did, nor have the voice that you did. So as you finish your song, he almost trips over his own feet trying to back away, scared that you might somehow notice that he had been there this whole time.

"God I miss you dad." You wipe away at the tears that start to spill down your cheeks despite your attempts to wipe them away with the back of your sleeve, scanning your eyes over the stars that scattered across the sky, imagining he was up there amongst them. "I miss you so much."

Regaining his footing, Ghost is careful to open the door leading back into the building, that is until he hears you let out what sounds to be a choked sob. He turns his head back towards you, seeing you bring your knees up to your chest as you cry out, mumbling something he can't quite understand. With his hand still holding the door open, he looks down at the set of stairs, turning his head back towards you for one more time before going down the steps, being careful to shut the door without any noise possible.

Part 3

Tags: @souls-rain @euovennia @i-wish-we-could-stay @depressedacidtest @gh0stm3g @thequeenofbigmacs @k1llerch4n @abbiesxox @feraltiddies @wand-erer5 @1redheaded3dragon @anisa269 @joceymoo @mango-corner @classickook @trueee33 @sockertop @lupskelly @chxbits @kuwizo @sluxm3ozt @tobybestupid @anarchygoose @lez-zuha @thatoneautor0123 @marvelmysterywoman @ella-error505 @awkward-0 @ariessux @kermitdefroghere @urloverx @alldaysdreamers @rat-elbows @nananarc @watersquirtpewpewboomm @izzyisstuff

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h0ck3yl0v3r · 4 months

Text

sparks fly

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x childhood!bestfriend

warnings: none?!?!

she missed him, and he missed her. with hockey season starting he was a mess. they had gotten paired together for a project in their english class. it was awkward, none of them knowing what to say.

The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm

And I'm a house of cards

they sat in class trying to figure out the topic they should research about. still no words spoken, luke couldn’t help but admire her as she worked. the way her hair kept falling in front of her face, and how she bit the top of her pen from nerves, and the way her eyes were so beautiful.

And you stood there in front of me

Just close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn't see

What I was thinking of

after an hour right before class ended, the two finally found a topic to research on. they settled on how miscommunication can affect ones life. ironic isnt it he thought.

“hey y/n” luke said trying to catch up the girl in a hurry to get back to her dorm.

“what do you want luke.” she said turning to look at the youngest hughes.

“i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna meet after my game, you don’t have to go to it but i figured itd be best if we talk and clear the air since we got paired together.” he said in one breath looking down at her looking for a response.

“okay.” thats all she said. “okay, ill text you after the game, bye y/n.” he said softly, “bye luke” she whispered softly watching him leave.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

tonight was a big game, the game against msu. yost was packed, luke was in the locker rooms trying to prepare himself for the game but all he could think about was the one girl who truly made him happy that he hurt. as for her, she was finding her way through yost being dragged out of her dorm by her roommate who was dating one of the players.

as the team skated out for warm ups all the girl could think about was when she’d always attend lukes games, how cute he was in his element, how passionate and focused he is once he hits the ice. she couldnt help but notice how the lighting brought out his green eyes, and how his small smile still has a hold on her.

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

the game ended well, umich winning and luke scoring a hat trick, during his third goal in the third period he finally saw you, pointing at you during his celly. your heart melted at that, almost forgetting entirely about why you were mad at him.

My mind forgets to remind me

You're a bad idea

luke quickly finished changing back into his normal attire as you waited for him outside the locker rooms.

once he came out he gave you a small smile which you did the same back.

“care to go for a little walk m’lady?” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh and nod.

you guys walked in a comfortable silence before taking a break on a bench near his dorm.

“congrats by the way, you did amazing tonight.” you said looking up at him a d he smiled whispering a soft thank you.

“i know i said i wanted to talk to clear the air because of the project but it’s more than that.” he said and you nodded for him to continue “im sorry for everything, truly. i miss you so much it physically hurts and i know its not fair the way i treated you, i don’t expect you to forgive me but i just want you to hear my side of the story. i pushed you away because i thought you deserved someone better, someone who could be there all the time, and to have someone you wont have to worry about having to leave one day and do long distance. but in reality i did it to protect myself, because im in love with you, and i didnt want to have to face losing my best friend, or the heartbreak of when i have to leave for the pro’s but i realize now all i want is you, my whole life, its been you.” his voice cracking and leg bouncing from anxiety. you placed your hand on his knee softly rubbing it to comfort him. “lu, i thought you didn’t like me because you became so distant and went after so many other girls, so i never said anything to protect myself, i was so in love with you, the night i left i had cried to quinny, i thought i never had a chance so i pushed myself away too. but im still so in love with you, no matter how much i try to push it away” you said softly as he cupped your face caressing it softly, “i thought you knew, i gave so many hints” and you looked at him confused, “remember all times in high school when guys tried to hit on you and i immediately scared him away, or whenever id call you after a bad game, or when all i ever wanted was to be with you so i came over for like three days, holding your hand or cuddling watching movies that it came to a point my mom had to drag me back home. i thought you knew.” he said tears now falling softly down both of your faces. “im so sorry lu, i never picked up on any of that, i thought it was just because we were best friends.” he wiped your tears away “we were always more than best friends, so much for miscommunication huh? we better get an A on that project” he joked and you couldn’t help but crack a smile and laugh. and as the clouds began crying too, for the first time luke hughes kissed you. the most soft passionate kiss ever. “i love you.” he said pulling away resting his forehead on yours “i love you luke hughes.”

And the sparks fly

taglist: @drysdalesv @shy4turcs @ghostfacd @jackquinnswife

#luke hughes #umich blurbs #umich hockey #luke hughes x reader #nj devils #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes blurb

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tvhsleb3ww · 2 months

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LOVE IS NOT OVER! - OIKAWA TOORU

yeah i used a bts song as the title bc i ran out of ideas 🥴

summary, your blind date is your ex boyfriend from high school!?

minor swearing, praise (cute, hot, sexy), depression, heartbreak, tooru being dumb

read part 2 here!

now, there were plenty of beautiful women in Tokyo. millions! but why oh why did the universe hate him so much to the point they sent you as his blind date.

that's right. you. his ex. his first love, his high school sweetheart, his best friend and the same girl who stole his heart and stomped on it until it broke into a million pieces. it was simply unbelievable.

you turned him into a depressed man after you broke up with him because you thought it was better to go seperate ways. okay, maybe it was for the better because now he's a superstar volleyball player and now you're doing whatever. and he's one hundred percent sure that you're succeeding in whatever the hell you're doing because holy fuck do you look like a goddess right now.

of course, dating his ex was not written on his workbook. he never would go back to his exes. that he can swear he'd never do but right now he's starting to contemplate whatever mindset he has going on. in full honesty, he's still bitter and upset at you for dumping him due to stupid reasons. it has been years since you last saw each other.

Third Year of High School

" you're not even giving me a chance here! "

his voice broke as tears welled up in his eyes. his hands holding onto yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours. his lips remain a frown as he looked at you. you sighed and remain your gaze on him.

" tooru, it's not that like that "

he clicked his tongue at your words. bullshit. that's all he thinks right now. he lets go of his grip on your hands as he looked at you with glassy eyes. he bites down his bottom lip to control himself from actually breaking down in front of you.

" so, you're gonna give up on us? "

his question remains unanswered as you stayed quiet. he sighed, looks like he got his answer. you sighed and crossed your arms. you couldn't bare to look at him right now in his vulnerable state. you feel like you just got shot by a million arrows from how bad you're hurting him.

" i just think it's better if we go on our seperate ways"

back to the present, he didn't expect you. first of all, he didn't even want to go on this stupid blind date in the first place but his awful yet amazing friends kept pestering him to do this. saying that "you're too obsessed with volleyball get a life", blah blah blah. he just rolled his eyes to their statement but he still went.

so, it wasn't his friends' fault for setting him up with his ex. or is it?

both of you sat in silence for a whole minute inside the busy yet quiet café. both of you had ordered your drinks and tooru swears that his matcha latte is almost finished from how often he kept sipping it.

he quickly clears his throat before finally saying something.

"long time no see"

okay that did not sound as badass as he thought it was gonna be. it kinda sounded corny. he took a second to cringe at himself before looking at you. god, he wanted to curse the heavens because how dare they make him hate this amazing woman!?

from head to toe you're perfect. tooru would fight anyone who says the opposite. you got so much prettier in the last couple of years too. your hair, your eyes, your lips, your face, your ass-

that was a little overboard, he thought. he's not supposed to be thinking this! you broke his heart and he hates you!

" yeah, you look great "

god, he wanted to melt on the spot. the same voice that haunted his dreams for years. still so sweet and so good to listen to. he looks great? woah! does that mean you're complimenting him? what is great? his physique? his personality? he had to bite his bottom lip to cover his smile and remain his scowl.

" pfft- i know "

you rolled your eyes at his words. ah, tooru always as smug as he can be. but he did in fact looked great, he looked healthy and more muscular. indeed, seperation was better for both of you. of course you knew about his growth in the volleyball world, he was the talk of the year. based on the scowl on his face, you're sure he's still being petty about what happened between the two of you.

" i see that your ego is still bigger than your ass "

he gasped at that statement. his eyes narrowed down at you as he crossed his toned arms. he's gotten tan too from the Argentina sun. it's a good look on him, not gonna lie.

" at least, i didn't leave people at their lowest points "

touché but it was a terrible comeback. tooru has always been horrible at comebacks. it did however managed to shaken things up a little bit. you clicked your tongue and rolled her eyes. same old petty tooru.

" i'm sorry, alright? that was a long time ago "

" you don't seem sorry "

" at least i'm apologizing "

" yeah but years after that- "

you groaned loudly making him snicker. he always enjoyed driving you crazy. to him, it was cute to see you all fired up and he just likes to piss people off in general. he leans back on his chair as his gaze remains on you.

" so quickly agitated, (y/n) "

he commented making you huff and roll your eyes.

" you're still as annoying as you'll ever be "

" annoyingly hot you mean "

" maybe because you came from hell "

his smug grin falters and drops at your comeback. he scowls and huffs at your now smug expression. this interaction was gonna be interesting. you just wiggled your eyebrows at him to piss him off even further.

ugh, he hates you. he hates how sassy and teasing you can get. he hates the fact that he finds it cute and sexy at the same time. why is it so sexy when you put him in his place!?

he clears his throat again after a minute of whole silence.

" you know, i hate you right "

you sighed softly and rolled your eyes for what seems about the nth time now.

" and it's completely my fault, i know "

he wanted to say yeah it is. you're to blame for the heartbreak pain he felt for years.

after he flew away to Argentina, he couldn't sleep at night wondering about you, he devoted himself fully to his career because he didn't want to think about you, he tried going out with other women but they all just weren't you.

but right now, it's as if he wanted to push that ego away and forget everything that has happened in the past couple years and just grab your face and kiss you with everything he's got.

and he's not leaving this date until he does exactly that.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa tooru x reader #hq oikawa #haikyuu oikawa

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j-ellyfish · 6 months

Text

hetaween2023 - day4 - found footage July 3, 2009. Lithuanian Biology graduate Tolys Laurinaitis, age 26 and a passion for wildlife and wolves, was enjoying a night out with his friend in the woods by the Lithuanian-Belarusian border. Equipped with a camping tent, food and a camera, the two friends were hoping to have a close encounter with one of the many gray wolves that populate the area. Despite being successful in their goal, as the picture above shows, this story is far from getting a happy end. «I remember the temperature seemed to drop all of a sudden» Feliks Łukasiewicz - Tolys' friend - explained «It got like, so chilly and I placed the camera on the stand so I could turn and grab the blanket.» And that's when this story takes a dark turn. «I felt like, so lonely and scared all of a sudden. And then it's like, I fainted, I don't know.» Łukasiewicz wouldn't wake up again until morning, «When I woke up, Tolys was gone. I got into panic and called a friend and somehow he found me and we went to the police.» Despite investigation, the police couldn't find any clue and had no idea what to do. Initially, they thought of a prank, but both Łukasiewicz and anyone who had been familiar with Laurinaitis never believed in such a possibility. «I have known Tolys and Feliks since we were kids,» says Eduard Von Bock, «and I know he'd never do something like that, especially to Feliks.» One month passed before the worst news would find the Laurinaitis. On the morning of August 7, the young man was found dead in the forest, leaning against an oak, no sign of violence found and his body almost intact. «Unbelievable» says coroner Lukas Bondevik «His body has barely any sign of decomposition, which would lead me to think he survived in the forest up until no more than four-five hours before the finding, but the contents of his stomach do not match this hypothesis and show proper signs of a month-long decay.» Despite further investigation, police was, once again, out of any clue and could do nothing but wait, letting this case be forgotten in a dusty archive. ... That is, until a few days ago, when Łukasiewicz finally did something he didn't dare do for all these years. «I never watched the video I took that night. It was like, too painful. The police gave it back to me after investigation, but I just stored it in my closet and tried to forget about it,» the man explains, «But recently, I've been really missing him. I wanted to look at his face again, how happy he was that night, when that wolf finally came to us! We had been waiting for like, so many hours, and Tolys was so happy ...» What Feliks did not expect to notice, however, was a weird, feminine figure standing in the background, appearing just a few seconds before the video is interrupted. «I checked all the documents and the police never noticed that detail, or so it seems. I tried to bring it up, but like, no one listened to me, so I decided to share it on Twitter instead.»

Łukasiewicz didn't have to wait long before the post went viral and reached Arthur Kirkland, head of H3T4, an association that investigates paranormal phenomena. «The figure in the background seems to match the appearance of Natalya Arlovskaya,» says Kirkland, «a young woman who allegedly went missing in those woods 40 years ago.» According to Kirkland's research, the young woman was thought to have let herself die of starvation in the woods after her forbidden love - her older stepbrother, Ivan Braginsky - left Belarus and moved to the US. «Her ghost has been haunting those woods for a long time,» Arthur Kirkland explains, «in fact, there have been several reports of young men going missing in that area throughout the years and no case has ever been solved with a clear explanation. For some reason, she seems to only go after young men.»

A good news for the daring ladies wishing to venture around that area, perhaps.

@hetaween-event

#hetalia #aph lithuania #hetaween 2023 #hws lithuania #aph belarus #hws belarus #aph poland #aph england #ary makes art #hi I've been constantly looking behind me and startling at the smallest sound while drawing /and/ writing this because I'm a fucking wimp #hope I gave you at least a tiny tiny goosebump that would make me happy and my fear would've been worth it xD

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ellethespaceunicorn · 7 months

Text

The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter One

Chapter One: Hide and Seek

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

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

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

Warnings: drinking, peril, mention of blood

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

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise. Scout’s honor. No more drunk forest parties. Thank you again for everything.” You place your hand on his arm and squeeze before exiting the truck and waving as you walk up the pathway to Liv’s house.

The light on the porch turns on and your best friend rushes out and hugs you tightly, bringing you in from the cold as Walter drives off into the night. Once you are in the warmth of her home, she takes your coat and prepares you a cup of tea. She asks who brought you home and you tell her about your ordeal.

When she asked if he was cute, you shouldn’t have been surprised but you still giggled bashfully. She also playfully swats you when you mention that you didn’t get his number. But that’s fine because at least you have his name.

Once she deems you safe enough to be on your own, she drives you the few streets over to your home and has you promise to call her in the morning. You take off your boots at the door, remove your coat, and start to sling it over the back of one of your dining room chairs. As you look closer at your coat, you make a note to take it to the cleaners tomorrow.

You survey the coat for any damage to the fabric and thankfully it just looks a bit dirty. You begin to wipe it with your hand and notice that it’s not all dirt on the coat. You can’t be sure, but if you had to guess what was on the sleeve and collar of the coat, you would say it was dog hair.

Coarse, short dark-colored hairs that when you hold them under a lamp look to be an inky brown. You try and stop yourself from jumping to conclusions, but it is almost impossible not to do that very thing. If these truly were what you thought they were, that means that you didn’t hallucinate that giant wolf. He was there with you, and he didn’t eat you.

You decided to get to the bottom of this. You’d schedule a check-up with your doctor in the morning. And after that, you would go back into the woods.

In search of the wolf? Possibly. In search of the truth? Definitely.

There was only one place to start. At Walter Marshall’s front door.

To be continued...

A/N: Walter is finally in the story!! Yay. I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @milknhonies @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @cardierreh15 @viking-raider @imaslutforcuddles @ilovetaquitosmmmm @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @calwitch @meanlilbean @samahenoyrhye

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thought--bubble · 2 months

Text

The Final Scratch

Epilogue to Kitty-Cat Series

Ettore X (Neuro-Divergent Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 1707

Kitty-Cat Masterlist

Ettore Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners and Dividers by @arcielee

Warnings::Ettore, birthing, pregnancy, ect ect. No Spoilers

"Will she live?" Ettore growls, neck craned downwards and shoulders perched like a lion on the hunt.

Once again, he started his day by immediately stalking to Dibs' office and demanding assurances. Demanding to know that you would survive the birth.

"I..... I don't know, " Dibs responds, her hands outstretched in front of her as if protecting herself from the expected onslaught.

He stalks closer to her as she backs up towards the wall.

I will rip you limb from limb

"Did you hear me before?" He snarls. Feeling as if she isn't taking his threats seriously and he is determined to make sure she understands fully what awaits her if she doesn't deliver what he has asked of her.

"I have done all I can, I have tracked her health. I have given her the right supplements and monitored her blood pressure. The rest.... the rest is up to god"

He huffs. God. God has never been there for him, and he doesn't expect him to show up now.

He storms out of Dibs' office and heads back to his room. Where he knows you'll be. Waiting for him. His good girl. His sweet pet.

She's dying

He tries to force the thought from his brain. The helplessness of the situation had started eating away at him lately. As you inch closer and closer to your due date. He hardly sleeps, his eating has all but stopped.

The nights are the worst. Laying beside you, listening intently to your soft, quiet breathing, Boyse's voice bouncing around in his head. "You're gonna kill her!" The words still crisp and clear. It felt like Boyse was haunting him.

She was right

He rounds the corner into his room, and there you are. Laying on your side stroking your cheek. He crawls into the bed pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own.

You purr and nuzzle into his hand like you always do, and he pulls you closer. He leans down, presses his nose to the top of your head, and breathes in your sent. The scent is comforting. Familiar and heartbreaking.

Do I have a heart to break?

The idea of love had been hammering around his head for the last few weeks. Was he in love with you? Did he love you? He was unfamiliar with the feeling, so he couldn't be sure.

What he did know was that he wanted you. He wanted to keep you right here next to him. The thought of being left on this ship without your presence was suffocating.

He rolls you over and spoons you from behind, pushing himself up close.

Mine.

You smile softly and close your eyes. You have gotten so used to this feeling that Ettore pressed up close to you is now a comfort, a need.

He bites gently into your shoulder, eliciting a small squeak from your lips. That's not the sound he's after. Ever since the first time he had you moaning, he chases the sound.

He brings his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down. One thing that had not changed about Ettore was his insatiable appetite for sex.

As always, you were pliant in his hands, a light purr emanating from your throat. He lifts your leg slightly, pulling it towards him, and rests it on his hip before sliding even closer to you.

He owns you. Mind, body, and soul, and he knows it. He grips himself tight rubbing the head of his hardened cock against the curve of your ass. Every stroke of his skin against yours, building up heat in your belly.

He pushes against your entrance gently. Uncharacteristically gentle, and slides into you.

He grips your leg slightly, lifting it as he thrusts his hips, slowly building up speed, his eyes glued to where your bodies connect.

He hears your little pants and mewls and they urge him on.

"Cmon Kitty. Give me what I want. " He croaks from behind you, snaking his hand down your leg and grazing over your pearl.

You whimper and turn your head back to look at him pleading with your eyes and he smirks.

"I know what you need. First, give me what I WANT"

He hastens his movements, the skin of his hips slapping up against your ass, his fingers hovering just above your pearl. Close enough to feel the heat from his fingers.

You pant heavily, mouth hanging open, and eyes rolled back. You arche your back, and that lines him up perfectly to pummel the spongey spot inside you, so you finally give him what he wants.

You start with low moans he can barely hear but once he finally brings his fingers down and caresses your clit you moan out loud, the sound echoing off the walls of room.

Purr my Kitty Purr

"Good, Kitty." He pants heavily behind you, his body now moving at his full pace.

You nearly shriek when your climax overtakes your body a mixture of pleasure and pain as your uterus contracts with your orgasm.

Ettore follows quickly behind with a loud grunt as he finishes inside you.

He rests his forehead against your back, breathing heavily. You can feel the rhythm of his pulse beating behind you, your own pulse relaxing.

Ettore pulls out of you, and it is followed by a gush, and you both freeze.

It's time.

Dibs had told him to expect this. This would be a sign, but he didn't want it. Wanted to stop it somehow.

You groan out in pain.

"Ok, cmon Kitty." Ettore rolls you onto your back and then shimmys you toward the edge of the bed, helping you onto your feet.

As he is walking you toward Dibs' office, Monty is standing against the wall watching the two of you.

You feel heat flush your cheeks due to the bareness of your bottom half. The embarrassment is quickly forgotten as you are hit with another contraction, your legs nearly buckling beneath you.

Ettore grips your arm tightly, nearly dragging you, his eyes locked on the door to Dibs' office.

Almost there, almost there

When you reach the office, dibs and Ettore quickly get you onto the examination chair, and from there, everything moves really fast.

Ettore watches on in horror. Your face contorted in pain, still you hardly screamed just some pained gasps and groans.

Please don't die. Please don't die

Dibs delivers a seemingly healthy baby girl as Ettore speechlessly watches on, she washes the baby and does all the necessary after birth checks.

"Check her " Ettore motions toward you as you still sit in the chair, face pale and slow moving.

Dibs hands the baby to Ettore and runs off to check you over.

He looks down at the baby in his hands and feels confused. The little thing. He made this thing. He is supposed to love and care for this thing. Two feelings he wasn't sure that he was capable of.

He looks back over toward you and sees that Dibs is done with her checks. He quickly hands the baby to you not wanting to hold her anymore.

She's still alive. She's ok

Ettore looks to Dibs for confirmation and she shrugs.

"Sometimes they survive a day or two, she seems healthy, but only time will tell, if she goes to sleep and wakes back up. Well. Thats a good sign."

The feeling of nausea swirls around his stomach again and he returns to your side. Pacing by your bed and occasionally looking down at you. The little girl in your arms making him uneasy.

You reach out your hand to him weakly, ushering him to come to you, and after a few minutes of pretending he doesn't see your hand, he finally acquiesces to your request.

You take his hand and place it gently on your daughters head. The little baby skull is so soft and gentle beneath his fingers, and he squirms a bit.

He is not made for this. Not built for this.

You start to nod off, and he shakes you by the shoulder.

"Hey, hey Kitty? Stay awake for a while longer, yeah?" The desperation in his voice rattles you slightly. You knew this would most likely kill you and you had felt at peace with that, but the pained expression on his face and the little girl in your arms had you wishing for a different outcome.

As your head lulls back again, Ettore reaches out again and tightly squeezes your arm.

Please don't sleep. Please don't sleep

You take his hand and place it on the baby again and your eyes meet his.

"So Beautiful"

Ettore's entire body goes rigid as he hears your voice for the first time. The sound weak but so sweet, so soft.

"Yeah....." He looks at you with reverance. Is this love? He can't be sure. What he does know is that you have changed him. Not entirely, but you have affected him in a way he didn't expect and isn't sure he likes. He is experiencing an entire host of new feelings. Fear, shame, pain, sorrow.

You lean your head back and close your eyes. Slowly being pulled down into the darkness of unconsciousness.

Ettore takes your hand. He's saying something, no doubt, trying to raise you from your sleep, but it's no use. You sink faster and faster into that darkness, the beautiful calm settling over your body.

Nothing hurts. All you feel is a comfortable hum that lightly vibrates through you. It feels good. It feels safe.

You reach your hand out and touch his face. There is a little stubble, you enjoy the feeling under your fingers, it's calming, familiar.

As your eyelids grow too heavy to keep open, you curl your fingers in bringing your nails to his cheek, grazing the skin.

"Hey, Kitty, stay awake." He near begs.

You bring his hand to your face and nuzzle. As a wave of euphoria passes through you.

You dig your nails into the skin of his hand at the intense sensation until you no longer have the strength and let go.

Leaving the imprint of your nails in his skin. Leaving that one final scratch.

To be added to taglist click HERE

#ewan mitchell verse #ettore x reader #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore imagine #ettore #ewan nation #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewanverse #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my red flag bf

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sin-djarin · 8 months

Text

Video Nasty II: Restricted Viewing (Joel Miller x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit 18+. MDNI.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You found out what Joel likes, or did like, now he wonders the same.

Warnings: SMUT, porn with some plot, unspecified era, no mention of age (reader is in late 20s), mutual masturbation. No use of y/n.

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. This was not meant to turn into anything more than a one shot. But it has haunted me since the weekend. I'm sorry if this is incoherent, and forgive me for any typos. Don't look at me.

For context, you should probably read part one first:

Part I

Masterlist

Please, I beg, put your ages in your bios. Ageless and empty blogs will be blocked!

Joel sleeps hot. It’s welcome in the winter months when he cradles you against him, keeping you safe from the cold. During the summer period though, the warmth from his body makes it difficult to drift off.

You and Joel don’t have the typical "couple" sleeping arrangements. There are no go to positions to fall asleep in. Sleep finds you when you’re both most comfortable. Sometimes you might wake up with your head nuzzled into his shoulder or his arm might find your waist during the night.

But now, in June, comfort means a decent amount of space separating you, the AC on full and in almost total darkness. The only sliver of light allowed to enter the bedroom comes from a small gap where the curtains meet the floorboards.

So, he doesn’t take offense when you turn your back on him, curl up into yourself and shut your eyes while he stays sprawled on his back beside you.

When Joel can’t sleep, he shifts his limbs around in the bed and fidgets. Even the weight of him lifting a leg and putting it back down again is enough to rattle the mattress on its frame. His breathing becomes more audible and to you – a little annoying. Tonight is one of those nights.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothin’”

“If something’s on your mind. Tell me”

“It’s nothin’” he repeats.

It is something, though because he’s restless. You can hear the scratching noises his fingers make through the hairs on his chin and the little puffs of air that escape through his nose.

“What do you watch?” he whispers. There’s only two of you in the entire house but he still speaks as if someone else might be listening.

“What?”

“When I’m not here, y’know?”

Oh.

You didn’t speak about it after that night. It was weeks ago. But the DVD got sorted like everything else in the basement. It was on top of the rest of the trash the following evening. It and the rest of the garbage gotten taken out by Joel before he went to work on Monday.

“Been wonderin’” he clears his throat.

“I don’t” you tell him, honestly.

It’s never been your thing. Sure, you’ve watched it a handful of times. But it’s always been too much – too fake, too noisy, too overindulgent. You’ve never been able to find something exactly to your liking. It’s someone else’s fantasy – not yours.

“No?” Joel wonders.

“No. Just…imagination”

He falls silent for a beat. You sounds a little disappointed with your answer, like he wanted you to tell him you were into something niche or filthy, something that might take him by surprise after sitting on the question that had been plaguing him for weeks. Or maybe he’s impressed at your lack of need for a visual aide.

“You just think about…whatever it is?”

“I guess so, yeah”

“And what is it?” he probes.

“Joel” you say rolling on your back. “Are you asking me to tell you what I get off to?”

“I showed you” he argues. He’s right. He did.

Yet somehow the idea of you describing your desires to him was dirtier than the five minutes of lack lustre porn that he put in the DVD player that night.

“You wanna know?” you sigh, hoping that if you tell him, he’ll stop prodding.

“Uh huh” he confirms.

You don’t imagine the same scenario over and over again. Sometimes they’re things you wished would have happened. Sometimes they’re more exaggerated ideas of what has already happened. Some of them are soft and delicate, some are a little rougher, depending on what you needed. All of them are rooted in reality. But you decide to tell him the one that works every single time.

You take a deep breath and turn your body away from him, back towards the window like it had been, bracing yourself. Preparing to bare yourself to him in a new way.

“So, um” you start with a definite shake in your voice. “Do you know that t-shirt you wear to work? The dark brown one. It was black but we’ve put it through the washer so many times it’s not brown anymore? And it’s smaller now too because-“

“Wait. Stop” he cuts you off to clarify what he’s hearing. “Me?” his voice is a pitch higher than it had been.

“Well. Yeah. Why? What’s wrong?” you worry.

“No, no. It’s just…didn’t expect details. Carry on, please”

“Anyway, you’re wearing that. And you’ve got your work jeans on as well. But you forgot your belt. So they’re kinda…just hanging onto your hips. The waist is worn on them...”

Then you stop, squeezing your thighs together at the thought, trying unsuccessfully to quell the urge that you’ve brought upon yourself with an image you’ve seen hundreds of times. An image that has never failed to get you going has once again done its job. He turns to mold himself around your body and you feel him throbbing at your lower back. His physical reaction is surprising - might actually be into this.

“You’re grumpy. Someone, something has pissed you off” you continue quietly. “Tommy, probably. It’s summer too, so it’s been really hot all day. You’re a little sweaty”

Joel rolls away from you and reaches over to pull at your hip, motioning for you to lie on your back with him. Your hand settles on the thin band of your underwear almost subconsciously.

“What are you doin’?” he asks.

“Depends. Usually cooking dinner when you come through the door and-”

“No. Right now, I mean” he drawls, his breath scorching your cheek as you lay side by side.

But your focus still lies on the curtain.

“Nothing” you whisper, though the want is becoming almost painful.

One of his hands searches for yours that still rests motionless on your belly. With his foot, he kicks the sheet that covers you both further down the bed. The cool air from the AC is a brief relief from the heat that has started to sneak across your skin.

Finding your hand, he slips his under your palm and guides them both beneath the fabric of your underwear, the heat of it alone is enough to send another rush of wetness to your core.

“Show me how. Like you would if I wasn’t here” he pleas.

Without thinking, you drape one of your legs over his, allowing him greater access. Splaying your fingers out over his, you steer his fingers further down until his middle finger locates your clit and you press down on it, breath hitching at the touch if it. Pausing for a second to collect yourself – this is actually happening - before you direct it to start moving in circular motions. When you feel like he’s mastered the way you’d touch yourself when you’re alone, you take your hand away.

“Just like that”

“Keep going. What happens next?” he encourages.

“I-it’s not ready yet…the dinner and…”

A deep hum coming from his chest makes you lose your train of thought. The pleased sound of it and the motions of his finger make the simple act of speaking difficult, like every word rolling off your tongue is heavy and burdensome. He’s enjoying this, you think.

“But you’re hungry because you’ve been gone…all day” you say, struggling not to make the same noises you do when you’re writhing under your own touch. Because somehow, they still seem forbidden.

“Mmhm” he soothes you further into your racy thoughts with another hum.

There are more details when you’re by yourself. You don’t tell him that gives you a kiss on the forehead and turns off the stove. Or that he still carries the smell of sawdust and WD-40 around on him. That when he stretches you can see the trail of hair on his belly because his t-shirt has shrunk. Nor that he tells you that you can eat dinner later, he’s hungry for something else now and brings you through to the couch, quickly dropping to his knees and spreading your legs open. But you skip all these parts when he applies more pressure with his fingertip.

“Then…you, um…just” you breathe through a moan.

“What?”

“You know…go down on me. L-look at me the whole time”

Pushing your head back into the pillow, you picture it – his brown eyes closing in satisfaction at your taste. You can almost feel the pointy hairs of his moustache against your mound, hungrily sucking at your bud and his fingernails digging deeper into the flesh of your thighs as they tighten around his neck and shoulders, drawing him into you. Eyes locked with yours the entire time and your back curving off the couch.

“You don’t let me cum though” you pant now, wishing your lungs would work harder to capture some air.

Your head rolls back into the center of the pillow. It’s then you realize you just how much you can’t see one another – you can’t see much of anything. If you had to guess, there’s a smirk pulling at his upper lip as you walk him through the sordid corners of your mind.

His fingers stop their ministrations for a second – half of you grateful for a breather, the other half fearful he might make your daydream come true and not let you see it through to how it usually ends. The wooden bedframe creaks as he moves his hips. His free hand finds yours to stretch it over his body to meet his hard cock he’s freed from his briefs. He wraps his hand around yours on top of it and starts to move them up and down.

“This okay?” he rasps, asking permission to engage with your secrets.

“Hmm” you mumble back.

You’re both on this journey now, there’s no going back.

Once he’s happy with the pace he’s set for you, his fingers that have laid dormant on you for what feels like forever, pick up their rhythm again.

“Keep goin’, baby” he tells you, taking his hand off yours on his length, trusting your touch like you’ve trusted his so far.

There’s not much left of your story, you think, and he’s only just begun.

“Then…bend me over the couch” you manage over the rising sound of your heartbeat between your ears.

“From behind?”

“Yeah”

“Fuck” he hisses when your grip tightens around his head to catch and swipe a bead of precum over the wide head before continuing to work him up and down.

That’s the last full sentence you string together. It’s enough to let you wander off to separate places where your minds can run wild with images of each other but your bodies are still joined together in the sanctity of your bed.

The only noises present in the room now are the echoes of your labored breathing and the slick sounds of flesh upon flesh. There’s no need for more talking.

In fact, it leaves you free to get back to the details of this particular fantasy - right as Joel spins you around in a swift motion onto your knees on the couch with your upper body resting on the back of it. Then you throw yourself back into the sound of his zip of his jeans opening and the spit falling from his mouth onto his cock before he enters your dripping cunt.

The noise he makes in your head when he bottoms out vibrates at the exact same frequency as the one he grunts into your ear next to you as your hand continues to pump around him with the energy you have left, trying match the speed of his hips slamming into you on the couch. The blistering heat of his breath against your neck is identical to the one when he leans over you to tell you "I needed you all day darlin’. Starvin’" for the hundredth time. And finally, the motions of his fingers in real life mirror the ones when he straightens up, pulling your back against his chest with one strong hand and the other to travel down to rub circles on your aching clit that’s been crying out for attention since his mouth left it.

You knew your own body and how it worked - how to touch and when. You never had to think about it too much so the only thing separating fact from fiction was the feel of him, stiff and silky in your hand, concentrating on your strokes and turning of your wrist.

“Close” you warn him, feeling your body tense up and back arch off the mattress in preparation for what was about to be a deadly orgasm in the wake of your own fantasy nearing its end.

“Mmm” he groans through gritted teeth. “Where do I-“ another guttural groan steals his words. “How-“

“Inside” you utter.

That's how it always ends - you completely full of him.

Other familiar sensations soon make themselves know to you; your eyes clench shut and that distinctive ringing in your ears takes over your ability to understand anything else.

You can’t guide him through this anymore.

And then it hits you, warm then fiery, across your stomach and spreads out through every nerve in your body, completely wrecking breathing. The sparks that ignited in your fantasy translate to an all consuming fire in the here and now. Similar to the one you’ve imagined yourself having every time you’ve been on that couch.

He lets you revel in the ripples of it before covering your hand with his for one final downward stroke. A rough growl escapes through his lips as his own release tears through him. You wish you could see it – see the muscles in his arms flex and relax, the roll of his stomach, the flare of his nostrils, the heave of his broad chest and the pattern it painted over him. But the darkness only lets you feel him spill wet and hot over your knuckles.

Finally, the sounds of your combined breaths are interrupted when he confirms “I like how your mind works”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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hirsheyskisses · 6 months

Note

Hello!! Your spooky event looks so fun! Do you think I could get 1. "You're shivering. Are you really that scared?" + 6 with Eustass Kid? Thank you so much I look forward to seeing what spooky ideas you come up with!!

Don't be a Coward!

Spooktober (2023) Event 👻🎃

EUSTASS KID x READER

Summary: being foolish, fresh put of your teens, Kidd decided to take things a step up for halloween, going to explore a 'haunted' mall.. (also yes, the pun in this story was intended)

Kidd has ALWAYS loved Halloween. Ever since the two of you had been kids, he'd dress up as either the spookiest or coolest shit (often times both) and always insisted on helping you with your costume.

A lot of Halloween often ended with kidd and killer looking absolutely terrifying, where your costumes were often- badass. Dresses that lit on fire, exploding suits, or real life villain energy

But, where they loved horror.. and creepiness.. You'd rather not! You'd really rather not fuck with ouija boards, or go into haunted malls, or fuck with ghosts..

But kidd.. well, you're dating the man..

"I really don't think this is a good idea." You stated for the umpteenth time, being rewarded with another long sigh from your lover. "You're being a wuss. It's just rumors-"

Kidd grumbled, grabbing your hand and lifting you up to the window he'd just shattered, holding you by your sides. Hesitating for a moment before sliding through, attempting not to step on glass, you turned, "thats not the point! Well.. it's part of the point, but we're breaking an entering! Yaknow, doing the thing that's against the law!"

Watching him land beside you, he snorted. "Since when were you so concerned about the law? You broke a guy's jaw for catcalling."

Kidd began to walk, his eyes eager and- to some extent, childish. "He was following me and had it coming, would you rather I have let him take me?" You shot back, to which Kidd tensed a bit. "Never said it was a bad thing. I'm just sayin', it was still against the law." He muttered, a hand snaking behind your back to pull you at his side. Surprisingly, the mall wasn't too scary: trashed, sure, but with a man who cleared 6' it wasn't- entirely terrifying.

"Well.. that scenario shouldn't be against the law." You responded, and you also knew he agreed: Kid loved any excuse to beat down am asshole. Even if he was bit of one himself, he still held some semblance of respect.

The mall was dark, and as you went further in, the light became less and less, until you were squinting to see and cautiously stepping down to ensure you didn't step on anything. Your redheaded boyfriend, on the other hand, didn't hesitate. Instead, he walked with pure confidence, head swiveling from side to side. "I expected more from a haunted mall. This shots boring." He grumbled, glancing back at you. "Yeah.. I guess." You mumbled, focused less so on him and instead chose to peer into the open stores, finding knocked over shelves and ransacked compartments, slowly moving towards an old book store. Grabbing your phone and flicking on the flashlight, you began to move between the shelves, occasionally grabbing at a abandoned, dusty book. Surprisingly, there was a lot of them remaining: and in fairly good condition, too. A few classics, and a few of your old favorites you'd occasionally come across. You'd been there for a few minutes..

"Hey! Kidd! Look at this o-"

You finally lifted your head as you found an old book on mechanic work he'd wanted, only to realize one thing: Kidd was nowhere to be found. You could've sworn he'd been right behind you the entire time- you'd heard his lumbering footsteps!

He's probably just in another store.. you decided, making to exit the library with the book still in your arms. Now that you were alone, you were overly conscious just how big the mall was. Every step you took left you uneasy, swearing you heard footsteps behind you- swore you heard voices, but no- eyes in the darkness, impossible, yet everytime you tried to counter the strange chills you got you just felt worse.

You'd wandered for a few minutes, peering into stores, and growing increasingly worried. What if he'd had a heart attack?! Or what if he'd gotten kidnapped? So much could've gone wrong- yet-

- yet the moment you were shoved against the wall, you had no time to worry about him.

A blood curdling screech ripped its way out of your lungs and you raised the book, fully prepared to slam it into your attackers body and book it- only for your wrists to be pinned to the wall. Your knee prepared to buck upwards, but a deep, growly voice sounded in your ear.

"You're shaking, mouse. Are you really that scared?"

His hot breath fanned against your neck as you almost melted, "k-kidd?! Where'd you go-" your voice was breathless, and Kidd chuckled, pressing his face into your neck. "Was never far.. don't gotta worry so much, mouse. I won't let shit hurt you."

#eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece x reader #eustass kid #kid x reader #kid pirates

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dawnagustd · 2 years

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no rest for the wicked || jjk

➼ title: no rest for the wicked

➼ pairing: camp counselor!jungkook x camp director!female reader

➼ summary: Camp Crystal Lake is under new management. You’ve come back to your old hometown to gather some work experience before graduation. You know the dark history surrounding these grounds, but the real challenge is going to be hot guy standing in your kitchen, the same guy that made you leave in the first place.

➼ word count: 7k

➼ rating: 18+

➼ a/n: hi! so I wanted to do something based on one of my favorite horror films, Friday the 13th. This story is not horror and the horror/gore listed above is only mentioned. However, I recommend googling what the movie is about before reading if you haven’t heard of it because I based my backstory off of it. This story is more suspenseful and humorous if you ask me and mainly focuses on the pairing’s relationship instead of the actual Jason Vorhees story. Anyway, I hope you like it. Also, I know this is unedited and rushed but this was a last minute idea. I’ll edit it and make it better in the future.

masterlist | permanent taglist

Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake

The freshly painted sign lets you know that you’ve finally arrived at your destination. You’ve traveled over 800 miles and hiked through a slightly dense wooded area in order to reach your home for the summer. This all will be cleared by next week by the time camp officially opens for the children. For now, it’ll just be you and ten camp counselors that you’ll be supervising during your time here.

You accepted this job knowing the history of this place, and the tragedies that have occurred. But out-of-state school costs are expensive, and it’s been over 40 years since the original owners shut down the camp. After all this time, their children would like to bring innocence back to this place, and burn the horrific events that earned it the name Camp Blood.

People started calling it that in the 70s, after the grounds were terrorized by a vengeful masked murderer that sought after camp counselors he deemed unfit. The story says that it was all the wrath of a man whose son’s life was tragically lost due to the negligence of the employees.

There are some rumors that say his spirit still haunts the camp grounds every thirteenth Friday, symbolizing his son’s age at passing and the day of the week that it fell on—lurking for young adults who sneak off to fuck around in the woods instead of doing their job and monitoring the kids.

As if you weren’t already on edge walking the eerie grounds, tomorrow’s Friday and the calendar says May 13th.

You sigh as the glimmering lake and renovated cabins come into view. At least you’ll have a proper place to lay your head tonight. Initially the property owners told you that the cabins probably wouldn’t be ready in time of your arrival, and that you’d have to set up a tent most likely. But you got a call last night saying that everything was taken care of and you could bring your things into the employee living quarters.

You find it quite easily since it’s the largest building on the property. Inside is the kitchen, two bathrooms, and bedrooms for the staff. It also houses your office, and you can’t wait to get in there and customize your space. Your hopes are to make it so comfortable and fit for you that you forget about the memories that plagued you when you passed through your old hometown earlier. Everyone should have moved on by now; it’s been three years, but to be safe you made sure your job was away from the city limits—and the people you once called friends.

Those people have been left in the past, especially him. You shiver every time you think of his name, and you quickly bury it in the back of your mind so you can forget once again. This is a step towards your future, and you plan to use these credentials on your resume. The director who brought life back to Camp Crystal Lake will open a lot of doors for you. You have all sorts of activities planned for the children. You just have to see what you’re working with first.

The hiring stage was conducted by the owners so you have no idea who will be working under you this summer. Their information is supposed to be sitting on your desk, so you’ll dive in as soon as you settle. You’re very excited to meet new people that love children as much as you do, and you’re sure whoever they’ve selected will be great employees.

In fact, one of them is here a day early, and you’re relieved you won’t be spending the night on a deserted camp alone. The biggest smile adorned your face when you parked next to the black pick up truck in the lot, and it is still present as you step across the cabin’s threshold, positivity and optimism coursing through your veins while you look around the empty room.

“Hello! Anyone here?” you call out, but get no response.

Shrugging, you set your bags by the door and venture further into the mostly open floor plan. There’s a hallway towards the back that leads to multiple rooms, so you opt for heading in that direction. The wooden floor creaks beneath your feet every time you take a step, and you know it’s something you’ll have to get used to. There’s also some noises coming from two doors to the right, so you shout once again to announce your presence.

“Hey, it’s me, the new director. Are you decent?” Nervous laughter leaves your lips because you don’t want to literally catch someone with their pants down, or even worse, interrupt an active burglary or something. You can’t be certain that the car belonged to a camp counselor or ground’s keeper. “Hello?”

However, after one peek around the doorframe, you notice that there’s no intruder—just a guy jamming to music through his air pods while making himself a sandwich. You’re impressed by his moves, wishing you had half of his coordination. He seems to be around your age, but his back is facing you, and the only thing you can make out is his brown hair and muscular frame underneath his large clothing.

Tattoos crawl up his right arm and disappear under the sleeve of his shirt. Your mind is already wondering where the trail stops. You’ve always admired body art and you even have a few tattoos yourself—but only in places that are easy to cover. Unfortunately, they aren’t really favored in your career path.

The man seems to be enjoying his alone time, but you figure you’ll at least tell him you’re here so he’s not alarmed when he eventually hears another pair of footsteps walking around.

You tap his shoulder, and try to introduce yourself one final time.

“Hey there, I’m—”

“What the fuck?! You scared the shit out of…me.”

You both stare at each other in total disbelief, but after a few seconds you realize that you aren’t dreaming, and that you’re actually standing face to face. Your shocked expressions transform into scowls of disgust. You’re the first to speak while he grabs his phone to pause his music.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”

Never in a million years did you think you’d use that name again. It produces bile in your throat each time you pronounce just a syllable of it. He isn’t pleased to see you either, and his scornful eyes vividly display such feelings. They burn holes into your skull, but you imagine yours hold the same impact as you glare back at him. His hair may be shorter and his skin may now be littered with tattoos and piercings but those lips, those dark eyes—they haven’t changed one bit.

“I’m working, isn’t it obvious?” he finally scoffs out, resting his weight on the counter and grabbing his sandwich. He takes a bite before pointing at you, speaking throughout random gulps to swallow down his food. “Don’t tell me they hired your prude ass to watch children.”

Your weight shifts to one leg and you fold your arms. Offended by his tasteless insult, you decide to take a jab of your own.

“Worse,” you smirk while watching him take a sip of his milk, brows lifting with curiosity over the rim of the glass. “They hired me to look after you, asshole.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his drink. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Deadass,” you gloat.

He turns away from you and looks towards the ceiling, pinching the bridge of his nose. If you weren’t about to be under the same roof as him for three months, you’d laugh at how flustered he’s become. “This has got to be a joke man.”

“It isn’t, and if I were you I’d watch what I say to me because let's not forget who’s in charge of terminations from today forward.”

Jungkook’s arms fall to his sides when he hears those words. You find satisfaction in watching his tongue poke at his lip ring because you know you’ve struck a nerve. He turns in your direction again and he shakes his head.

“I see you haven’t changed one bit,” he notes.

“And what do you mean by that, Jungkook?...because you haven’t changed so much yourself, you know? You’re still a jerk, and an annoying pain in my ass.”

He starts walking towards you, and suddenly you recall the last thing he’s ever said to you. “This isn’t over, bitch. You’ll get yours.” You have no idea what those words meant, but they still give you chills—and for good reason.

You ratted him out to the principal. You had no choice; he was going to prank you again, but this time the results would have been really bad for you. For two weeks prior, you’d been receiving anonymous gifts at school. You suspected Jungkook from the moment you saw the handwriting on a note someone slipped in your locker. The admirer told you to meet them behind the gym during sixth period. Since you were a senior, fifth period was your last class.

Imagine your surprise when you showed up early and found Jungkook standing in the meeting spot, waiting for you to arrive—a cigarette in one hand and a bundle of red roses in the other. You went directly to the principal’s office and he was escorted off campus shortly after. Jungkook was expelled only a few months before graduation and the entire school hated you for snitching, but what were you supposed to do? He was going to attack you.

“I’ll tell you what it means,” he says, stepping directly in front of you. He peers down at you through his lashes, asserting his dominance by using his larger stature.

However, you don’t plan on backing down, no matter how much his aura intoxicates you. You focus on your anger towards him, the built up hatred you developed due to all the horrible pranks he’s orchestrated to embarrass you during high school. It’s all you need to remember what kind of jerk he is, picking on girls in front of his friends, but dodging them when he’s alone. He’s a coward, and you won’t bow down at his command.

“It means you’re still an evil ass kissing bitch, but I’m about to dry your cunt up real quick, sweetheart.” He gives you a lopsided grin before he continues.

“You may be in charge, but this is my uncle’s property, and if anyone has to go, it’s going to be the girl who got his nephew expelled from high school. So if I were you…I’d watch what I said to me,” he chuckles coldly.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach following his words, but you ignore it and stand your ground. “All I did was tell the truth,” you whisper and Jungkook throws his head back in laughter.

“Are you delusional? You hearing yourself, right now?”

He shakes his head and grabs his phone, abandoning his lunch as he prepares to leave.

“You know what? Fuck it. Talking to you is like trying to get a brick wall to move. Just stay the hell away from me and we won’t have problems. I’ll sleep in my damn truck tonight.”

Jungkook brushes past you and exits the kitchen, leaving you alone to bask in bad memories you tried so hard to forget. You hated each other then and you hate each other now. However, the resentment comes from something much deeper than teenage rivalry. You know the tension between you is bound to come to a head at some point, and you just hope it isn’t here.

It could ruin everything, and it’d be one more tally for Jungkook when it comes to embarrassing you. For now, you’ll try to step on egg shells when it comes to him. You’ll play nice and only communicate with him when necessary because this job is too valuable for you to lose it over someone like him. You begin cleaning up the mess he left behind with a heavy heart. “Ugh…Why me?”

May 13th, 2022

Well, it’s Friday evening and you haven’t heard a word from Jungkook since he stormed out of the cabin yesterday. He eventually came inside this morning to shower and eat, but has spent the majority of his time in his room. None of the others have arrived yet, but they aren’t on schedule until tomorrow. You still wish there was someone else here to distract you from the ominous feeling you get at night.

It’s always so quiet; even the wildlife isn’t active when the sun goes down. It’s like they know something is lurking—something dark and sinister. You didn’t get any sleep last night. You felt so isolated, so exposed in the middle of it all. If it wasn’t Jungkook invading your mind every time you close your eyes, it was the stories of this place told to you by your parents.

All night you expected a man in a hockey mask to appear out of nowhere, and butcher you like he did previous counselors. There were some survivors, the employees who weren’t at the camp to fuck and party. You keep telling yourself that if his vengeful spirit were to return, or if someone followed in his footsteps—you’d be safe. But survivor’s guilt is real, and violence is never the answer.

You don’t wish such a horrible death on anyone, not even Jungkook. So, of course, you were a bit worried about him being out there alone last night. Hopefully, tonight he’ll consider staying in here—for his sake and yours.

There isn’t much to do right now, so you’re lying on your bunk bed, looking through your phone. Your head lolls to the left and what you see makes your blood run cold.

“Oh my god!”

You jolt out of bed and slip on your sneakers when you see the dark colored creature slither across the floor. It retreats under the neighboring bunks and hides in the darkness, waiting for something to venture near so he can strike. You run out of your room faster than the speed of light, calling for Jungkook to come and help remove it.

“Why the fuck are you screaming?”

His voice is rough and he’s obviously in a bad mood. You assume he was sleeping because he’s only wearing his sweats, not a shirt in sight. You almost forget the reason for calling him, but he snaps his fingers and you’re quickly brought back to reality.

You point towards your room and give him a nervous side-eye. Your voice trembles when you speak. “Under the bed. It’s a snake…a big one.”

His face shows nothing but annoyance.

“Are you sure it isn’t just a sock?”

Your eyes expand, offended by his lack of urgency and seriousness for the matter.

“That thing moved!...Fuck it, I’m not sleeping here.” You try to leave, but his arm wraps around your waist before you can get by him.

“Alright, just hold on. I’ll go check it out,” he sighs.

When he withdraws you cannot ignore the way your body reacts to the loss of warmth, and you want to slap yourself for actually seeking after his touch. You’ll blame it on your lack of human interaction since you’ve been here.

Jungkook steps into your room, but turns to you before he goes any further. “Can I use your phone? I need a flashlight.”

You nod and quickly pull it out of your cardigan’s pocket, placing it in his hand and allowing him to turn it on himself. Jungkook taps the flashlight icon on the lockscreen and approaches the center of the room. “It’s under the bed to your right. Please be careful. I don’t know what kind it is.”

He doesn’t say a word as he gets on his hands and knees, keeping a safe distance while he aims the light into the dark crevice. He squints his eyes and curses after only a few seconds of searching.

“Oh, shit. That’s not good at all.” Jungkook gets on his feet and you immediately take notice of his flushed face.

“Is it that bad?” you gulp, and to your worst fears Jungkook nods.

“The pupils are like diamonds; it most definitely is.”

He leaves the room, but doesn’t take his eyes off the snake’s hiding place.

“What kind is it?”

He blows out a puff of air before he responds. His eyes are wide and in utter disbelief. “It looks like a moccasin, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I just know it has to go.”

“Well, what do we do? I can call my dad but—”

“There’s some shit in the storage closet; I’ll get it,” he states calmly, placing your phone in your hand. “Make sure you keep an eye on the floor, and if it comes out, just stay away from it. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook is gone before you can get a word out, leaving you alone once again. Your mind can’t help but think about what would have happened if you’d put your feet down at the wrong time. You probably wouldn’t be standing here talking about it right now. What if you were alone? Help is miles away, and by the time anyone got to you, it’d be too late.

That’s why you requested that someone with trained medical experience be here at all times, and according to his paperwork, he should be here tomorrow morning at 8 am sharp. You’d sure appreciate it if he were here now, however. This isn’t safe by any means, and neither of you are professionally trained for this task.

“Has he moved?”

Jungkook returns with a bucket in one hand and what looks like snake tongs in the other. You make a mental note to go over the importance of safety when it comes to the local wildlife with everyone, especially the kids. A bite from a snake like this can be fatal to an adult, and a small child would have even less of a chance.

“No, it hasn’t moved. But Jungkook, I think we should call someone. This isn't safe,” you suggest.

“Your dad’s a cop. He’s never shown you how to grab a snake?”

“Yeah but…”

Jungkook laughs. “If you’re scared of snakes just say it. I’m not one to judge.”

“No! I’m just…kind of worried? Today is…you know.”

“Well, try not to be so superstitious,” he tells you before entering the room for a second time. “I’m gonna close the door so it can’t get out, okay?”

You want to protest, and your mouth opens to do just that, but he gives you a look and you instantly change your mind. “Okay.”

“See you in a bit,” he winks, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

About ten minutes later, the door opens again and Jungkook holds up the bucket in triumph. “Would you like to kiss your prince before he departs?”

You roll your eyes.

“So what are you going to do with it now?”

He shrugs. “I guess I’ll put it on the porch. He should be fine overnight. I’ll wake up before dawn and take him on the other side of the lake where there’s more wilderness. I’ve been wanting to catch the sunrise anyway, so this works.”

“How do I know you won’t just go over there and kill it?” you jest, but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s funny. The second his expression changes, you realize that the joke should have never left your mouth. You quickly try to apologize. “Sorry, I—”

“Keep it.”

“Jungkook, I didn’t mean it like that,” you try to convince him.

“I don’t care. That’s your fucking problem; you never think before you open your damn mouth.”

You opened your mouth to apologize again, but instead you ended up giving him a piece of your mind.

“Excuse me? At least I’m not a coward. You used to be cocky when you were with your little clique. Now you can’t even look me in the eye whenever I bring up what you’ve done.”

“I’m the coward?” He shakes his head and laughs. “Then what are you?...I called you, texted you, and you ignored me. You didn’t have to accept my apology, but you could have at least listened to what I had to say after you found out why I was really waiting for you that day.”

“Jungkook, I’m not going to believe your lies. You know damn well what you were doing back there and you’re just pissed that it backfired on you.,” you argue, and Jungkook scoffs.

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“I will actually because it’s the truth.”

Jungkook prepares to walk away, but then suddenly pauses. His back is turned, so he looks at you over his shoulder.

“You act like everything’s been all bad between us, like all I’ve done was harass you. You’ve forgotten who’s saved your ass with homework you forgot to finish or who’s given you rides home when it rained even though it was on the other side of town. I brought any of that to anyone’s attention because I didn’t do it to hold it over your head. I did it because that’s just the kind of person I am, especially for someone I care about. But if you want me to be something else…you got that.”

He starts walking down the hall without another word to you, and a part of you wants to go after him, but what he said doesn’t justify his actions. You don’t trust him, and he has himself to blame for that. So you stay silent, because if he really cared, he wouldn’t have so much animosity towards you when you did nothing wrong. It’s not your fault you couldn’t put the pieces together; you were too busy looking over your shoulder for his next prank, and even though it’s been years since he threatened you with his words—you look around every corner before you make a turn.

One thing you’ve already learned to appreciate in your short time here is the shower. The water reaches the perfect temperature, so you can’t help but stay in there a little bit longer than you should. You have to enjoy it while you can because after tonight you’ll have to share, cutting your time in the bathroom in half.

Since you’re alone in the cabin, you take your time and detangle your curls. Jungkook isn’t here so you don’t bother rushing to get your clothes on. A towel is the only thing that covers your body. Your skin is still damp and too hot to throw on a t-shirt so you opt to stay this way until you air dry and cool down.

Once you leave the bathroom, you turn off the lights and go straight to your room. You hadn’t realized you left the window open earlier, and you shiver as the gentle summer’s breeze flows through your bedroom. You throw your phone on the bed and quickly walk over to the window so you can shut it. However, a sudden uneasiness forms in your gut, an instinct you have when something just doesn’t feel right.

You gnaw at your bottom lip trying to piece together what could be happening and eventually, you brush it off as just your paranoia getting to you. Before you close and lock your bedroom window, you glance at the moon and stars, noting how beautiful they are away from the city and how you’d like to get some pictures before you leave. But that’ll have to wait because right now all you want to do is lie down and at least try to get some sleep—if only your mind allows it.

While pushing down the glass, you notice something out of place on the outskirts of the woods. You have a small view of the lake from where you are, and the only thing preventing you from seeing it entirely is the trees. However, there’s something blocking the small opening that allows you to see Crystal Lake from your room, or maybe…someone?

You lower your head to eliminate the glare in the window, and that’s when you see it. Barely, but you’re able to make out a white orb in the distance.

“What the fuck is that?”

You don’t have long to figure it out either. Suddenly, the object begins to move and within seconds you realize that it definitely is a person, and they’re coming straight towards your cabin. When they’re about 30 feet away you can clearly see their dark clothing and the infamous white hockey mask the guy that committed those murders were said to have worn. Fight or flight sets in, and your first reaction is to get the hell out of there before he can catch up to you with his long strides.

You rush out of the cabin wearing nothing but a towel and Pokémon slippers—no phone, no keys, only a bit of hope that Jungkook is alive and near or at least sleeping in his truck so he can drive you both to safety. Once your feet touch the soil, you channel every ounce of determination and drive you possess. Speed will be your only asset against a figure that appears to be twice your size. But unfortunately, even all of that isn’t enough.

“Let me go!”

A pair of arms grab you before you can even reach the path that leads to the parking lot. You kick, you thrash, and you scream like your life depends on it—because it does, and you use every tactic your father taught you to try and break free.

Your efforts pay off with an elbow to their stomach. A pained laugh escapes the person, and when you jab them again they finally agree to release you. You’re surprised at how familiar their voice sounds.

“Alright, alright. I’ll put you down, but chill. It’s just me,” he chuckles, placing your feet back on the ground. You try to make another run for it, but he grabs your hand and takes off his mask. “Don’t go running off into the woods. It’s just a joke. Calm down.”

“Jungkook?...Wha—”

“I was just fucking with you,” he laughs, doubling over and clutching his side. “You should have seen your face. And then you really almost crushed my ribs, damn girl.”

You feel anything but amusement right now, and you head straight for the cabin to start packing your things.

“Should’ve been your balls,” you say as you’re passing him.

Fuck this camp. Jungkook and everyone else can have it. You knew you shouldn’t have come back here; it was very foolish of you to think you could actually be in the same space with Jungkook and his old ways wouldn’t resurface. You’ll just find another way; something else will come up. But you can’t stay here any longer, not with him.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

You kick off your slippers because they’re just slowing you down. Jungkook is on your tail and when he grabs your arm you immediately pull away. “Get away from me. I’m leaving!”

“Leaving?...What are you just gonna quit?” he quizzes. You spin around and walk up to him, fueled by nothing but rage and resentment.

“That’s what you want, right? Well, you got it. I’m out…you’ve won, Jungkook.” His smug smile fades slowly and his brows furrow as he processes your words.

“Ahh, here you go again. How does someone survive under same roof as you?...I’m nice, there’s a problem. I’m a jerk, you’re ready to leave. It makes no sense.”

“You call setting me up to be humiliated nice?”

Jungkook’s hands run over his face in frustration. “I thought we established that I was doing nothing wrong that time.”

“If you weren’t doing anything wrong…which is obviously a lie because you were smoking. Why were you the person waiting for me to turn the corner?...With roses! I’m allergic to roses. You lured me there to hurt me and humiliate me.”

“First of all, I had no idea about the roses and I tried to apologize, remember? I wasn’t trying to be mean to you. I told you I just wanted to smooth things over and—”

“Then why write them Jungkook? Why make me believe someone actually liked me?” you question, cutting him off.

Jungkook steps closer, but once again you do not back down. You don’t care about how angry he is because you’re pissed ten times more. He’s gone too far this time.

“Maybe because I was building up the courage to tell the girl I’ve liked since third grade that I liked her? Ask her to prom? Apologize for being an asshole because she didn’t deserve any of that stuff I did...I don’t know, maybe it was all of those things. I was just doing what the guys told me to do. I wanted your attention, and I was finally trying to get it the correct way,” he argues, anger radiating from his body. He stares you down with so much hatred that if you weren’t feeling the same way, you’d crumble.

“So what if I had one cigarette to calm my nerves? I was fucking shaking, and I put it out after the first hit because I didn’t like it. But the only motive I had for being back there was to get the girl I liked alone so I could apologize and ask her out, but she got me expelled before I could do that.”

His words seem genuine and sincere, but they’re driven by fury. He’s still upset with you and you cannot understand why. You didn’t know, and if you did you still wouldn’t have known how to respond. It’s his fault for traumatizing you so much that you didn’t see all the signs. You feel like shit for it, but you can’t go back and change things. You’re trying to move forward, but each time you take a step, you’re always knocked back two.

“Then you just get to move on and forget it ever happened?” he continues. Your brows furrow when you see the gloss covering his eyes.

As if you weren’t already feeling terrible for not being able to read between the lines, Jungkook was right earlier; he helped you out just as much as he joked around.

You didn’t even give him a chance after the day he left school, but how could you when you were dealing with the aftermath of his expulsion? “You come here with your head all high like you own the place, like you haven’t flipped my life upside down. It’s not fair.”

“Jungkook, I had to move on. You think you’re the only one who suffered? Everyone hated me for getting you kicked out of school. And don’t act so beaten down, your dad got you out of it. Or did you think I didn’t hear about that?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yeah, because everyone knew I liked you…everyone but you. And my dad paid a load of money to make sure I could at least get into a good school. Why the hell do you think I’m here? He calls and I run, until I’m done paying him back.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know! But what am I supposed to do about it now? I can apologize a million times, but I can’t change the past. I’m tired Jungkook, so either we end this tonight or I’m leaving because I can’t live like this. Do your worst if it makes you feel better, prank me the whole fucking summer, embarrass me in front of the kids and the staff.”

He lowers his head and shakes it as he speaks. “That’s not enough. It’s never been enough.”

“Then what is, Jungkook?...Tell me what makes it right? I’ll fix it.”

Jungkook looks at you then, softer than before, but his expression still holds a bit of frustration.

“You just don’t get it,” he whispers.

“Then help me understand. Show me if you can’t tell me. You want revenge? Take it. Or if there’s something else you want, you can take that too. Just go for it because this may be the last chance you get.”

His fingers reach up and touch your arm, and he runs them delicately over your skin. “How do I know if what I want is something you’re offering?”

“Everything’s on the table. You have me alone until tomorrow morning. Do whatever you want, I’m all yours,” you assure.

“Anything?”

“Everything.”

“Well, come here then.” Jungkook pulls you close to his body and leans in. You expected him to kiss you, but you didn’t expect it to feel this way. His touch is more rough and aggressive than you imagined it would be since he was so timid previously. It still feels amazing despite his lack of tenderness and affection.

He grabs your face and guides you to the nearest wall, never breaking away from the heated moment you’re sharing as he does so. You can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that all of your hatred for him is being released, you can enjoy every inch of his sculpted figure.

You try to reach for his shirt, but he grabs your wrist and pins it against the wall, smiling when he hears you whine. His tongue slips into your mouth and explores as deep as its length will allow.

“Is that all?” you ask him when your lips ultimately part for air. His eyes linger on your mouth as if he’s missing the warmth already, and you can’t stop yourself from smirking in response.

“That’s not even half of it.” Jungkook’s hand still holds onto your face and neck, but you’re too drunk off his touch to feel any discomfort.

When he finally allows you to touch his chest and biceps, you try to coax him into spilling all of those hidden emotions buried beneath the surface; it seems to work after a moment. You purr each syllable when you speak, and Jungkook lingers onto every one of them as if they were the answer to all of his prayers. “Then what are you waiting for?...Clock’s ticking.”

“Stop talking like that.”

“Or what?...What’s going to happen if I don’t?” Your challenge makes him tighten his grip. You wince, but nothing tops the satisfaction you get from pissing him off. “What are you gonna do?”

Jungkook growls, and the sound makes you shudder. “You wouldn’t even be able to walk in the morning. Don’t ever try me like that, sweetheart.”

“Do it. I fucking dare you.”

Jungkook chuckles while kissing his way up to your ear. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“Well, enlighten me–Oh fuck!” He uses his knee to force open your legs and flexes his thick thigh against your bare cunt. The contact makes you gasp out a desperate moan.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Jungkook’s grin widens when he feels your thighs try to rub together for more friction.

“Fuck, yes.”

He drags you across the room and he all but tosses you on the couch.

“Strip, then turn around,” he commands.

You take off your towel and throw it at him. Jungkook twirls his finger in a circle, so you turn and bend over the sofa’s armrest. “Shit, you have tats, a nice ass, and you’re fucking soaking…the hell am I going to do with you?” he asks while leaning over you to speak into your ear.

“Hopefully, you’ll fuck me…and soon–ahh, shit.”

Jungkook slaps your ass and gives it a squeeze. You whimper under his touch, trying not to moan, but then his finger teases your entrance, and you have no choice but to let it out.

“You’re not in the position to give me demands…not while your cunt’s trying to suck in my fingers, sweetheart. Play nice, and I’ll feed you well,” he says with a smirk.

You groan, and he slaps your ass again; your backtalk then ceases for a while.

Jungkook spreads your folds and spits into your entrance, chuckling when you clench in response. “The quiet ones are always freaky,” he comments.

“Shit, I need to grab a condom. I’ll be right back—”

“Here.” You reach into the couch and pull out one of the condoms you secretly stashed there. You can imagine the shock on Jungkook’s face when you reach back and hand it to him. “None of us are saints, Jungkook. Don’t think about it too much.”

And he doesn’t. He quickly pulls down his pants and rolls it on. Your anticipation heightens when you feel his blunt tip come in contact with your heat, and you turn your head to watch his face contort when he slides in.

“Fuck,” he sighs when he finally feels your warmth molding around his length. His moaning makes butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach, and you don’t even give him a second to get used to the snug fit. You bounce on his cock and watch as he looks on in awe, taking off his shirt and throwing somewhere across the room.

Jungkook grips your waist and takes control; you grab onto the couch when he starts fucking you back, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he concentrates on pleasuring you. You both set a steady pace, but you feel like he’s holding back so you purposely taunt him into giving you more. “You fuck like you’re scared or something. Afraid you’ll drown?”

He reaches forward and tugs your hair. “Nope. I was just going easy on you, but if you insist…”

You scream his name when his thrusts quicken, and he uses his grip to pull you back on his dick. He digs into you deeper and harder, and the pressure in your abdomen begins to build after a few calculated motions. Jungkook’s hand continues to come down on your ass randomly, and each blow leaves your pussy gushing with arousal. He pulls you up and holds you close to him once he’s left you behind red and sore to the touch. “You feel so fucking good. Damn, I wish you were mine,” he moans into your neck.

Your hand reaches behind you to play in his brown strands while he bites and leaves marks on your neck. “Is that what you want?”

He lifts his head and looks you in the eyes, slowing down but still digging into your cervix.

“Damn right,” he replies, teasing your sensitive clit. “Gonna come for me?”

“Mmhm, please don’t stop doing that.”

Your nails dig into his arm while he ruts into you. You come with his name flowing from your lips, and he follows soon after. His body trembles as he spills his seed into the condom, and he sighs when he’s finally released all the pressure he’s had inside of him.

Your body almost slumps over when he pulls out and tries to withdraw, so he’s forced to keep you close to him so you don’t hurt yourself. “Can you even walk to your bed?” he laughs, giving you a glimpse of his cute boyish smile.

“Probably not.”

He sighs and scoops you up. “Alright, let’s go to bed, lightweight.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, slapping his chest.

He stops near the kitchen door and tosses the used condom in the trash before taking you to your room and placing you on the bed gently. “Night,” Jungkook says quickly before turning to leave.

“Wait.” You grab his hand to get his attention, and he pauses. “I don’t usually ask these questions, but…did you mean that stuff or were you just fucking around?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that unless I meant it. I still like you, but I know it’s too late,” he says before he looks at you. He stares for a few seconds and responds with an exhale. “Please don’t leave, though. I really miss you.”

You pat beside you. “Come lay with me?”

Jungkook nods and takes off his shoes before he climbs in your bed. “I only ask because…well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, for everything. Especially tonight, I never want you to see you that upset again,” he admits.

He doesn’t say anything when you touch his face and trace over his features. “Can I come with you when you take the boat out tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course.”

You yawn, and Jungkook wraps his arms around you, caressing your sore behind to help you relax.

“We’ll talk then, okay? It’ll be all romantic and shit,” you tell him and he only scoffs. “Seriously, it’ll be like those movies, and then we'll kiss—”

“And then we’ll try to fuck without rocking the boat too much?” he suggests. You roll your eyes and turn away from him, suppressing your giggles as best as you can. “Did I ruin it?”

“It was ruined before I started talking.”

“True.”

When it’s quiet again, your mind begins to wonder and one question resurfaces in your brain that you forgot to ask Jungkook. “Hey.”

“What’s up?”

“How did you make it to the front of the cabin so fast earlier? You were literally like 10 feet away from my bedroom and then right on me when I ran out,” you point out, making him lift his head.

“I wasn’t back there. I was getting ready to come through the front door and scare you, but you just ran out. I figured you thought you saw another snake or something.”

Your breathing pauses. “Dude, I saw you.”

“No…you didn’t see me.”

Well, if it wasn’t him, then who?

Your heart rate speeds up, body working in autopilot as you try to usher Jungkook out of the bed. “We gotta get out of here. We have to run, there’s—”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. That was my friend Tommy. Please don’t be mad at him, I begged him to help me,” he confesses and you narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t get mad, babe,” he pouts.

“Oh, I’m not going to get mad, Jungkook.” You crawl over his body, straddling him and kissing his lips before you continue. He thinks he’s off the hook, but you’re about to show him what you’re capable of.

“...I’m going to get even.”

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #btsdreamcourt #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts imagine #bts x you #jungkook fluff #sugakookitty

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ukulelevillainwrites · 5 months

Text

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 6.7k

warnings : language ig?

content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan

taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)

She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.

“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.

“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”

She made a move to get out of bed.

“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”

George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.

George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.

They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.

“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.

“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.

“What girl?”

“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”

“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.

“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”

“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.

“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”

“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.

“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”

“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”

“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.

“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”

They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.

“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”

He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.

“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Lockwood really I’m fine.”

“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”

She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.

Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.

She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.

“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”

She stared at him wondering what he meant.

“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”

“Oh, right.”

“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”

“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”

“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”

“I’m not a child!”

He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”

“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.

“You have to ask for help sometimes.”

“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”

He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.

When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.

It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.

“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.

“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”

“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”

“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.

“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.

“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”

“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.

She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.

“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”

“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.

She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.

When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.

“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”

“You never listen to what I have to say!”

She pushed the door open.

“What’s this all about?”

“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”

“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”

He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”

His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”

“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”

“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”

“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.

“Well, I know I’m right!”

“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”

It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.

“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”

“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?” Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.

“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.

Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.

---

“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.

“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”

He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.

“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”

That got a laugh out of him.

They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.

“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”

“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.

“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”

It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.

They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.

Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.

“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”

“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”

“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.

“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”

“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.

“Norrie? What are you doing here?”

“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”

“Actually, you could help us a lot!”

y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.

“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.

Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.

---

“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”

Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.

“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.

“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”

“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”

“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”

“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.

“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.

“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”

He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.

“What happened?”

It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.

“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.

“We met Lucy today.”

She was met with a questioning stare.

“The girl from my dream.”

This triggered more frowning.

“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”

George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.

“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”

He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”

“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”

He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.

“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.

“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.

“What do you think y/n?”

“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”

“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?

“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”

George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.

A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.

“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.

“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”

He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.

The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:

“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons

TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock

One fundraiser organized each year

Strong link to M&S rapier supplier

Funds from Fittes?

No financial records or official information available”

She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.

Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.

They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.

A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.

They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.

“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.

They looked up at him expectantly.

“We go after the financial records.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.

“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”

“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.

They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.

“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”

“But what about the records?”

“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.

---

“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”

Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.

After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.

“Lockwood stop.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”

“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”

“Just shut up Lockwood!”

George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.

“They had just started to get along!”

y/n ignored his comments.

“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”

Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.

“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.

She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m… sorry…”

“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”

Her heart sank.

“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”

“What was I doing?”

“Faking compassion to get what you want.”

“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”

“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”

“I can actually.”

There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.

“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”

“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”

He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.

“Just don’t be mean to me again.”

“I won’t.”

He turned to enter the kitchen.

“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.

“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”

She smiled.

“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”

He smiled back.

“Tea?”

#who follows the rules anyway #ukuwrites #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co imagine #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #george karim #lucy carlyle #norrie white

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boldlyvoid · 4 months

Text

December 16th, 1986

Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: It took 8 months, but Steve's parents finally sold their house... and Steve has no idea where he's going to live now.

Warnings: drug use, mutual pining, first kisses, getting together, moving in together, Wayne and Mr. Clark are dating in this

Word Count: 2.5k

For the past 8 months, Steve has been getting ready for this moment.

His parents announced pretty soon after the earthquake that they would be moving. They put the house up for sale, they packed their things and they left… they said he could stay there till it sold, make sure that the Realtor showed the house off right and answer any questions that the potential buyers have. He answered things that he shouldn’t have, he told lies, he made the house seem haunted and he prolonged living there as long as he could until another rich family decided they’d take it no matter what.

His last day to live in his childhood home is December 16th. He has 2 weeks to pack, find an apartment and start living life on his own terms. His parents “helped” the best way they knew how. With a check for $1000 as a thank you for looking after the place until now and words of support… those words being “We know you can do it, and if not, here’s our new address.”

Robin offered to let him stay with her but without her mom knowing because she already thinks they’re dating in secret and that wouldn’t help. He can’t ask Nancy for help cause she’s in Boston— Jonathan might be willing to help but since their breakup… he’s not really hanging out with anyone much. Dustin's mom has made it clear he can stay over whenever he wants but he’d have to sleep on the couch in the living room and there wouldn't be much privacy.

The 4 apartments downtown are taken currently, they won’t be available for god-knows how long and he can’t afford to buy a house of his own… his job sucks, and he’s worried he won’t even be there much longer once Robin goes off to college cause Keith hates him, so he should be looking for both a new job and a place to live.

It all comes tumbling out of him after a joint and a beer while lying on the carpet in Eddie’s room.

“Dude,” Eddie stops him mid-ramble. “You can stay here.”

“Where?”

“Here,” Eddie waves around. “In my room, with me, for as long as you need.”

He laughs as he sits up, “Yeah I can see it now, my race car poster can go there. My trophies will sit in a box over there on the floor and after I organize your closet for the first time like, ever, I’ll put my clothes in there.”

“I mean, I think the race car would look better over there,” Eddie points to the one blank spot on his wall with a smirk. “I’m completely serious, Stevie, you can stay here. Wayne won’t mind.”

He just sighs, “I mean, I think I can store all my things in Dustin's weird bomb shelter storage thing—

“Wait, what?” Eddie cuts him off. “He has a bomb shelter?”

“I don’t know it’s like not connected to his house and it’s in the backyard and it’s underground and all concrete,” Steve explains. “But they just keep his mom's homemade stuff down there like she pickles shit and makes jam, so... I could keep some boxes down there and just bring the important things here.”

“See, that sounds like a great plan,” Eddie cheers him on.

“But…” he doesn’t know how to ask.

“What?”

He sighs, “where am I going to sleep?”

“Here,” Eddie says like it’s no big deal, pointing down at his bed. “It’s not like you haven’t slept here before.”

“Yeah, but, every night, for-for I don’t know how long?” Steve worries, “You’d seriously be okay with that?”

Eddie nods, “I mean, we sleep pretty good when we’re together…”

Steve sighs, he’s right. No nightmares, no night sweats, no morning headaches, notate night anxiety attacks— and that’s just all the stuff on his end. Eddie hasn’t been on a regular sleep schedule like this since he was a toddler, sleeping from midnight to 9am every time they’re together, he’s more productive and he’s happier and they really love sleeping together... It just feels right.

“Don’t-don’t take this the wrong way, but-but—

“Oh no,” Eddie worries right away.

“No, no, it’s a good thing I promise,” Steve assures. “I just wanted to say I… I love you, man. You’re a wonderful person and you take such good care of all your friends and-and don’t tell Robin but you’re one of the best people in my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Eddie tries to make a joke response but his mouth just opens and closes and he shakes his head in disbelief, “You do?”

Steve nods, “I really do. Thank you… for everything.”

Eddie gets off his bed and crowds Steve on the floor, wrapping him up in such a powerful hug they end up lying down with Eddie on top of him, “I love you too, Stevie.”

They’re like that for well over a minute, but with the weed in their system, it might’ve been even longer than that. They end up cuddled on the floor, Eddie’s face in Steve’s neck, Steve’s fingers tracing shapes on Eddie's back, the two of them silent and content and oddly comfortable.

They cuddle often. This is how they fall asleep. After long chats about all sorts of things: work, bad dads, evil teachers, stupid ex-friends, relationships that went south... You name it, they’ve talked about it. It started one night after he drove Robin home from work, she had a headache and just wanted to sleep and he needed someone to talk to— somehow he ended up parked in front of Eddie’s trailer before he could even register how he got there and Eddie was coming outside to make sure he was okay. He wasn’t. But he’s been okay since then, since knowing he has another safe space with someone who cares about him.

Now he knows that someone loves him… and Steve loves him right back. Maybe more than how he loves Robin or Dustin. Maybe he loves him more like he loved Nancy? This did feel an awfully lot like when he cuddled with her, only, they did this after sex… completely naked, cuddled up for 10-20 minutes before he had to get her home for her curfew, but he soaked it all in. It was his favourite part of the whole thing.

And now he has it again, just in a different form. In a different shape… an Eddie shape that’s even warmer and heavier and smells like home and doesn’t have to leave after a few minutes. And when Eddie said he loved him back, it was real. It was sincere. It was everything he wanted.

He rests his cheek against the top of Eddie’s head for a moment, lets out a sigh from all his thoughts and then he does it. He kisses the top of Eddie's head and squeezes him tighter. And to his surprise, Eddie kisses him right back. His lips touch Steve’s neck and they stay there, again and again, he kisses him until he’s straddling Steve’s hips and his lips meet his jaw and Steve stops breathing.

His eyes blown wide, his hands fallen to his sides, he’s frozen. Eddie notices and pulls back, he cups Steve’s jaw and stares at him, “hey… I’m sorry, I can—

Steve doesn’t let him finish, he simply grips his t-shirt and pulls him down into a real kiss. Lips pressed firmly together, eyes squeezed shut— on his end, at least. It’s not Eddie's turn to be shocked still. Steve holds him there for a moment and then releases, noticing Eddie’s now frozen as he opens his eyes. He laughs, finding him so un-godly cute, “Sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Eddie says in a mere whisper, still dumbfounded that that really happened. But he comes back to reality, he stares at Steve’s lips and then back up to his eyes, “Kiss me whenever you'd like, pretty boy.”

Steve sits up with Eddie still in his lap, chest to chest now, he cups Eddie’s face, “same goes for you, handsome.”

So, Eddie kisses him this time, sweet and gentile and everything Steve’s ever wanted. It’s slow and sweet, and his lips are soft, Eddie wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Steves is the first one to initiate more, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, Eddie almost moans as he lets him in.

Steve's hand slips from his cheek, down his neck and rests on his chest before he wraps his arms around Eddie’s middle and tugs him in even closer. He’s never had a kiss that feels like this: there’s love and passion and a familiarity that feels like they’ve kissed a million times before.

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but it feels like hours.

Glorious, fantastic, and magical hours that he never wants to end.

When Eddie finally pulls away he doesn’t look too happy— which worries Steve. “I love this, but I’ve gotta piss so goddamn bad, dude.”

Steve laughs, “Go, go pee and then we can continue this in the bed, my ass is going numb.”

Eddie steals one last kiss, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Might get some snacks too… the munchies are kicking in.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Steve alone in his room… he reaches over for the walkie-talkie on Eddie’s bedside table, pulls out the antenna and changes the frequency to the one he and Robin use. It’s late, she’s probably asleep, but he’s allowed to wake her up when he needs her.

“Rob? Robin? Are you up?”

He waits a moment and then he hears it, she groans, “What?”

“It happened.”

“You’re gonna have to be more descriptive, dingus,” she bullies him. “And speak up, where are you?”

“I’m at Eddie's, he’s gonna be back in a second but… but we kissed. It happened, Rob.”

“Do you want a parade? Some gay confetti cake?” She teases, tired and not in the mood but he can hear her slight smile.

“No, I just wanted to tell you,” he smiles like an idiot on his end. “And I told him I love him, so there’s that…”

“Congrats, you kissed the same sex before I did— can I please go back to bed now?” She begs.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll see yo tomorrow,” he lets her go. “Night, rob.”

“Night, dingus,” he says back and then the line goes dead. She’s turned it off completely.

He flops back to the bed with the walkie pressed to his chest and the most shit-eating grin plastered to his face. He’s never felt so happy in his life. And Eddie sees it. He leans against the doorway, bag of chips in hand, just smiling back at him.

“You know, I always wondered what my dad meant when he said I was more like Wayne than anyone else in their family, that I had to be a Munson like my mom said because I’m his twin…” Eddie explains and Steve sits right up, nervous that he was caught.

“What?”

“Wayne’s had the same boyfriend since I was like 14,” he explains. “They see each other in the mornings when he’s coming home and his lovers getting ready for work. He brings him coffee, they get a few minutes to just chat and then he'd come back here to make sure I was ready for the bus… and I didn’t know he was his boyfriend for a long time. I actually didn’t know for sure until we were in the hospital, and Scott was there, holding Wayne’s hand.”

“Wait, that’s why Mr. Clarke was always around?” Steve can’t believe it. “I knew they were friends but… oh my god?”

Eddie makes his way to the bed and nods, “They’ve been together for a while. And happily. If it wouldn’t fuck with his job, they’d be living together… he has a second room in his house so they’ve been thinking about pretending to be roommates but, I don’t know who’d buy that.”

“I would’ve,” Steve assures him. “Believe me, that is not the first thing I think of when I see two older dudes hanging out.”

“And if Wayne moves in with him… then I get the trailer,” Eddie explains. “And there’d be more room for your things… and you’d never have to leave…”

“Oh,” Steve’s heart swells. “You’d want that?”

Eddie nods again, “I want you for as long as I can have you.”

“How does forever sound?” Steve teases, wanting that too.

“Perfect,” he agrees before lunging at him for another kiss.

—

When December 16th rolls around, Steve has all his things packed, they load it all into Eddie’s van and keep the non-essential things at Dustins in his cellar. It’s a relatively easy move, the hardest part was organizing Eddie’s closet so Steve’s things could fit in there. He convinces Eddie to donate some things, but by “donate” he meant put shit in a box and give it to Mike.

And Wayne’s home that day too, he doesn’t go back to work until 8pm which means that he can make them dinner. He’s s happy to have Steve around, slightly because he’s loved Steve ever since he dragged Eddie out of hell and to a hospital— but mostly because Eddie loves him. They’re a little family.

And, speaking of family: Scott comes over too.

The 4 men sit around a little table and chat and laugh and celebrate the start of something new. Something beautiful. New love, but more specifically, Gay love.

“Um,” Steve starts to speak when the conversation starts to lull. “Do you guys know any other lesbians in the area?”

They nod, “Yeah, we do, why?” Wayne asks.

“My best friend thinks she’s the only lesbian in the whole town and I thought maybe we could have like a gay New Year's party or something so she would feel less alone?”

“Does she have a fake ID?” Eddie asks and Scott glares at him. “What? Candace and Sharon literally run a gay bar in Indy, we could just go there all together.”

“You guys can go,” Scott waves his hands. “I am not going to a club at my big age. I am long past finding that fun.”

“Robin would love to go,” Steve announces for her. “We’ll find her something to use.”

“Candy isn’t above sneaking someone in,” Wayne teases. “You guys will have a blast.”

“Can I just say thanks again for letting me stay here?” Steve asks, feeling a little emotional with how amazing this is all turning out to be.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Wayne waves it off.

“You could’ve even moved in with me, or just kept your things at my place,” Scott offers. “Any kid of Waynes is a kid of mine.”

He gets a little choked up, unsure of what to say, he just smiles. “Thank you,” is all he can muster.

Going from having 1 dad who didn’t even care to call him on his birthday to having Eddie’s 2 dads who’d do anything for him, thanks to Eddie is just too much to handle right away. But he’ll get used to it.

This is his family now.

They’ll have to do this every year now; a big dinner on the 16th of December every year to celebrate coming home.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

Steddie

@nosaladallowed-ao3 @wifeyreid @girl-with-an-orange-cat @sunshinemunchkin @luna-munson83 @manda-panda-monium @steve-thehair-mamabear

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #clarkson

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