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sweetpascal · 2 months

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𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

gif by: @pedropcl

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: your thoughts are now consumed by joel. you cannot function properly without him nearby.

warnings: MINORS DNI. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], dumbification, toxic attachments, joel is SO fucking manipulative, aftercare (very late), cuddle fingeriinnggg, slow making out, finger sucking, pussy pronouns, joel "just the tip" miller, bare pussy grinding, spit as lube cause he's a nasty man, joel is also a scary man

wc: 6.7k

notes: my depraved baddies, we're getting closer and closer to the enddddd. also, virginity is a social construct. i understand that someone can still "lose their virginity" from fingering, BUT THIS IS FICTION. IGNORE IT. AND ENJOY IT. PLEASE. 🥺🥺🥺

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There has never been a time in your life when you felt truly alone. You always had your close group of friends, with whom you spent time nearly every other day, having a great time. You also had social media to keep you busy during times of boredom. Regretting not making the most of those two makes you feel foolish. That's all you'll ever be; a foolish little girl. Joel was right. You're nothing without him. You need him. You need his guidance to navigate the harsh realities of the world. Losing your only two means of escape is forcing you to face revelations you're not ready for. You're not prepared for adulthood, not just yet. At this moment, you feel utterly alone.

Minutes pass as you shuffle on your feet behind Joel, gazing at the back of his head while he sits at the kitchen table. He was considerate enough to leave your door unlocked, granting you the liberty to wander around the house, yet ensuring the front and back doors remained closed and locked. "Can't trust you going out alone anymore," he had said to you earlier today. His reasoning was fair. You had acted recklessly, and now you're facing the consequences. You don't hold Joel responsible. You never did blame him for his decisions. If only you had heeded his advice from the beginning. Be a good girl.

"Uh, Daddy?" You softly call out to him, your voice meek and quiet like a little mouse. Joel barely turns his head, motioning with his finger for you to come closer. With shaky steps, you stand between his spread legs.

Joel's gaze lifts to meet yours, his hair disheveled from constantly running his fingers through it. A sense of satisfaction swells in his chest as he notices your nervousness around him. You struggle to maintain eye contact and can't help but flinch whenever his hand moves abruptly.

"You should be getting down on your knees when you address Daddy, babydoll. It's the only polite thing to do, don't you think?" He tuts at you softly, raising his brows expectantly. He just realized that he hasn't provided his girl with a list of rules to follow. Considering your innocent and unaware nature, he thinks that assigning such a significant task might be too overwhelming for you to handle all at once.

With wide eyes, you scramble to your knees in front of him, your hands placed on the ground between your knees. The positioning accidentally causes the straps of your dress to slide down your shoulders, just barely exposing your chest to Joel's predatory eyes.

"Attagirl," he murmurs, the backs of his knuckles lovingly stroking your jaw, his thumb just barely pressing into one of the finger shaped bruises. "Now, what did you want to ask me, sweetheart?"

The intensity of Joel's gaze makes the question die on your lips. His fingers continue to stroke your jaw gently, their warmth coaxing you into a state of calm. The anxieties that once troubled you are fading away, leaving only the desire to please him, to heed his words, to fulfill his wishes. Joel. Joel. Joel.

He can see your eyes go unfocused the more he keeps his hand connected to your bruised skin. A sick smirk plays on his lips. Seeing you immediately submit to him so easily excites him. To have you down on your knees before him, eyes wide and glassy, lips parted. There's a part of him that wonders why he loves this, this power he holds. Joel is a depraved man, one that feeds into that sick monster hidden beneath him. He never acted this way with your mom. He never even spanks her, let alone gets her to submit in such a way that makes him feel like a god.

The second your body started developing into the womanly figure you have now is what had caught his attention early on. Maybe it's because you looked so much like her in her teenage years, or because you're just so fucking innocent and pure. Either way, his attraction for your mom had long since faded away, and you were the next best thing he wanted to take and destroy.

"Sweetheart," he calls out, gently shaking your shoulder to recapture your attention. "Is there something you want to tell me?" His voice, coupled with the gesture, brings you back to the moment.

With a frantic blink, you refocus your eyes on Joel. He nods, signaling for you to speak, the slight twitch in his jaw betraying his growing impatience. As you shuffle on your knees, your backside presses into the heel of your feet. You attempt to conceal your grimace, yet the intense pain swiftly radiates. Tears gather in your eyes as the burning sensation and fuzziness become overpowering.

Sniffling softly, you say, "I-I was just w-wondering if... if you can, um, make my behind feel a little better?" The question was shy, and you didn't even want to look at him, for you think he's going to reject you.

Joel's grin broadens at the sight of the soft, dejected expression on your face, and as your shoulders slump and your head hangs low, you brace for his scolding for having asked him to do such a task. You deserve to feel the pain of last night's punishment. You don't deserve Joel's gentle hands massaging the sore spots, kissing and whispering sweet praises in your ears. You weren't a good girl, and you don't blame him for not treating you as such.

His voice was so sweet and cooing. "Yeah? You want Daddy to make the pain go away?" His thumb swipes across your bottom lip, your little pink tip just barely poking out to rub across the pad.

The saltiness of his skin has your mouth salivating. You suck his thumb further between your lip, jerking your head to a weak nod as you hum affirmatively. Joel hums as well, only deep in thought as he weighs his options. He could keep on with his heinous punishments, forcing you to plead for him to stop--it's such a dangerous game to play. Alternatively, he might be kind today and pamper you, lavishing you with affection that you feel you don't deserve, which could further endear him to your impressionable mind. As he looks into your eyes and sees the way you're gazing up at him, his thumb firmly tucked between those lips and your silky little tongue swirling around the tip, he chooses the latter.

"Get your butt upstairs and lie on your tummy while Daddy grabs a few things, okay, babydoll?"

The soft breeze of your ceiling fan emitted a chill throughout your body, albeit a pleasant one. Goosebumps erupted on your skin, almost soothing the heat radiating from your bruised backside. Lying on your stomach, you wait patiently, straining your ears for any sign of Joel, but silence is all that meets you. The anticipation of his arrival has you swallowing hard against your pillow. It's as if he's moving quietly and slowly on purpose, prolonging the moment to heighten your sense of anticipation.

This was how he played his sick games. He was the cat, and you were the mouse. He loves being the predator and you, his prey. And for some obscene reason, you love it too.

A small creak at the doorway made you tense for a moment, but you relaxed upon seeing Joel standing there, his large frame filling the doorway. In his hands were two things: a white cloth rag of some kind and a bottle of lotion. You shiver delightfully, knowing that in just a few minutes he was going to be taking care of you in the way you needed.

"Ain't you a peach," he grins and steps inside, using his foot to fully shut the door, officially trapping the both of you inside. Joel's grin widens when he sees just how marked your backside is, the welts swollen and skin broken, large bruises that are all types of hues of blue and purple. "Hmm... Now, that's what I like to see."

You don't respond, opting to stay silent as you curiously observe him from over your shoulder. He pats your hip with the back of his hand, wordlessly telling you to scoot over. Once you do so, Joel unbuttons his shirt, completely removing the offending clothing from his body and tossing it aside. His chest and stomach were now fully exposed.

In the light, with a clear mind, you finally have the chance to take in every inch of Joel. His skin was so tan, it almost blended between caramel and bronze. Dots of hair speckled his chest, a mix of dark brown and gray. Then, there's hair around his belly button before it trails down to disappear under the waistband of his jeans, the hair getting darker and thicker. His skin is a canvas of freckles and old scars, each one a silent story that tempts your curiosity. Questions about their origins linger on the tip of your tongue, yet they remain unasked, perhaps to be explored if alone time with him arises once more.

"Your head is in the clouds again, babydoll," Joel teases, his voice holding a light-heartedness to it, immediately easing your nerves. At the sound of your quiet giggle that you muffle in your pillow, he gets comfortable between your thighs, gently coaxing them to spread wider to accommodate his large size. "There we go," he whispers under his breath.

The hot rag in his hand is gently laid over your backside, the fabric big enough to cover both cheeks. The sudden feeling made you flinch and whine unpleasantly, one foot gently kicking to try to distract you from the pain. Joel hushes you softly, one of his hands sweetly rubbing up and down the back of your thighs.

"Just relax, babydoll," his voice was so soft and comforting. "Let Daddy take care of your pretty self." He applies light pressure to the hot rag, further soothing the sensitive, enflamed skin. Another whisper comes from above, a little less pained and a lot more relieved. "That feel good, baby?"

You let out a drowsy hum as you succumb to the sensation. There was a liquid heat pooling all around your lower half as the pain from your backside gradually melts into a dull ache. Joel glances down between your thighs, your pussy lips spreading open, labia and clit on display for him to see. There's a shine covering your untouched hole. The pearly slick, slowly, slowly, slowly sliding out of your hole and trailing down to cover your clit. There's a small flutter as your pussy clenches, just briefly. An ache in Joel's jaw and his mouth salivating reminds him that now is not the time to act on his impulse. As much as he wants to bury his face between those thighs, he knows he has to make sure that you're going to be working properly before he has his fun again.

When the rag gets cold, he removes it from your backside. The cold air bites into your skin, the sudden shock taking you by surprise. The sensation of pin pricks across your exposed skin causes you to squirm. Joel is aware that it's painful once more. Your soft whimpers of discomfort prompt a quiet chuckle from him.

He grabs the bottle of lotions and squirts a generous amount into the palm of his hand. "Just a second, babydoll," he tells you softly, coaxing you to lay flat on your tummy again. You wait for a few seconds, and then you feel it.

There's a gooey warmth that covers both of your cheeks. It makes your eyes flutter shut. Then, Joel's hands start to massage your tender flesh, gently rubbing and smoothing out the aches. The pressure was so good, and the weight of his hands on your ass allowed your brain to slowly turn into mush.

He continues massaging your cheeks, even going as far as to "accidentally" swipe his thumb against your puckered hole. The action caused you to jolt and gasp, the sound of his laughter making your cheeks warm. When the ache was now dulled into a pleasant numbness, you stretched out your limbs like a little kitty in the sunlight, a soft hum vibrating into the pillow. You look over your shoulder and watch as Joel wipes his hands clean with the damp rag he had used. Seeing his bare chest has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"Uh... Daddy?" There was hesitation in the way you spoke. The idea occurred to you the second Joel had removed his shirt. The sight of your stepdad in your bedroom, clad in just his jeans, touching you in such a way was exciting. Warmth pooled in your stomach, a certain liquid heat that was hard to ignore.

Joel gazes at you with expectation, his eyebrows lifted as he catches the hesitant expression on your face. It seems like you're eager to ask him something, yet you're apprehensive about his reaction. Before this ambiguous relationship began, you'd always rush over to him, words spilling out rapidly to pose questions without a second thought. He was charmed by it. Your eyes sparkled with innocent curiosity, hanging on his every word, which he thought was incredibly cute. However, given his recent behavior, you've become more cautious about your inquiries, wanting to ensure they're significant.

"Can... Can we kiss, like how we did last time?"

The surprise on his face made you giggle. He wasn't expecting you to ask for something like that, let alone think of the naughty stuff he's already done with you at the beginning of the week. Joel clears his throat and trails his eyes over your nude backside, zeroing in on your bare pussy, almost screaming for him to touch and lick up. When he looks back up at you from where you lay against the pillow, your bottom lip tucked underneath your top teeth and your messy hair, he finds himself nodding.

When he props himself up against your pillows, you immediately clamber onto his chest, one leg resting between his legs while your other is propped up and slung over his hip. With your head resting comfortably on his shoulder, Joel rests one arm behind your back, curling it to cup your jaw from behind. Your heart is facing as you get close to his face. Eyes half-lidded and lips parted, you're the one that makes the first move.

When your lips meet, it's like stars bursting behind your eyelids. So soft, so inviting. Joel's lips are as addictive as an expensive drug. You crave their touch every second, every minute, every day.

His tongue enters your mouth and you're quick to eagerly suck it between your lips. He groans huskily and pulls his tongue away before messily kissing you. The hand that rests on your hip slowly trails down and around the back of your thigh before the tips of his fingers rest along your labia. Then, he starts rubbing up and down, further spreading the wetness that leaks out of your empty pussy. He touches everywhere. Your swollen clit, puffy labia, bare pussy lips, and your fluttering hole are left untouched.

You're nibbling on his bottom lip, eagerly shoving your tongue sloppily into his tongue. Joel groans at the taste of your mixed saliva. To have you in his arms like this, naked and so very vulnerable, it was driving him fucking insane. Your hips are shifting and bucking towards his hand, but each time his fingers rub deeper, he pulls them away. When he also pulls his lips from yours, you chase them with a desperate whimper.

"Patience, babydoll," he mutters, glancing down at the pleasure-drunk expression on your face. "Let Daddy have some fun." Joel continues smearing your wetness all over. The messy sounds of your slick being rubbed with his long, thick fingers has you blushing fiercely with embarrassment--embarrassed at the fact that he's touching you like this, probably in the same way he's touched your mom in the past. It's so dirty and naughty.

Your hand gently pets at his scruffy jaw, lashes fluttering so prettily like a butterfly's wings. Lips parted, you slowly and gently kissed him again. This kiss, however, was a lot different than the others. There was a tenderness that Joel got lost in. It made his heart skip a beat, like actually skip a beat. You're so sure he can feel your heart racing as well. Languid kissing was now your favorite thing with him. The soft, wet smacking sounds of your lips connecting and disconnecting has you whimpering delicately.

Joel's fingers now focus on your fluttering pussy hole, slick dripping out non-stop, further adding to the stickiness on his finger pads. The hand holding your jaw from behind your head tightens to pull you away.

"I'm goin' to put a finger inside, okay, baby? Daddy's goin' to make that little pussy feel so good," he whispers needily against your wet lips. When you protest, he shushes you and kisses your lips repeatedly. "Be quiet while Daddy has his fun."

Very carefully, he pushes his middle finger inside your pussy, shushing you again when you let out a squeak and try to pull your hips away. Joel's fingers follow your movements, only deepening each time you try to move. He slowly fucks his fingers inside your pussy, the tight, wet heat making his dick thicken in his jeans. The sloppy sounds of your slick, coupled with your weak whimpers has him growling lowly. He retracts his finger and goes back to rubbing your pussy in up-and-down movements again, only this time he's paying more attention to your needy clit.

"Tha' feel good, honey?" He murmurs sweetly against your lips, kissing you once, twice, three times before glancing down at you. With a shaky nod, you tell him in that pretty voice yes, yes, feels s'good. "Mhm."

Your hips are barely grinding against his thick bulge as if they have a mind of their own. There's a neediness in the way you mouth at his neck, your tongue and teeth mapping every inch that you can reach. With your focus now on something else, Joel takes this opportunity to move his hand from your weeping cunt and bring it between your bodies to slyly unbutton and unzip his jeans. He slowly pulls them down, leaning his head back down to capture your lips in another syrupy slow kiss. His cock springs out of his jeans and rests above the waistband of his boxers.

You're not paying attention to what he's doing--so focused on his lips, his warm skin, his chest, his tongue, his scent, just Joel. Daddy. Daddy.

With your attention on his mouth, Joel blindly grips the base of his cock and brings the tip to your opening. He glides the engorged tip up and around your fluttering hole, tapping it lewdly and crudely against it as wet smacking sounds filling the air. Your eyes fly open, and your body seizes as you grab onto his burly forearm.

"Daddy, no! I'm not ready yet!" You practically cry out, eyes wide and frazzled as you frantically shake your head. You've seen the size of Joel. The man is packing. He's fucking massive. And you know you're not ready to take all of him. You can't imagine the pain of being split open by something so long and so thick.

Joel hushes you sweetly, removing his hand from his thick base to tenderly grab a hold of your hip again. "Jus' grind tha' pussy on Daddy for a little bit, baby. Ssshh... you can do tha' for me, right?" His hips start to slowly grind his dick between your pussy lips, your labia spreading open and your clit catching his frenulum. "You wanna be a good girl for me, right? You wanna be punished again, babydoll? Hm? That what you want?"

Feeble whimpers leave your swollen lips at the thought of Joel further punishing you, beating your backside black and blue again. Resting back onto his chest, you shyly wiggle your hips until the position is comfortable enough for you to grind your hips forward and back. Joel grins and cups the back of your thigh to lift it higher on his waist. The feeling of his cock, now covered in your wetness and gliding easily between your pussy lips, has you feeling so tingly and warm down there. It was a new sensation. Getting to feel the thick vein that stretches from the base all the way to his tip was surreal.

"It... It feels... good," you whisper against his scruffy jaw, lips parted next to his chin to let out heavy breaths as the warmth spreads. "I-I like it."

Joel's deep chuckle reached your ears. "Daddy knows best, babydoll," he tells you, his hips grinding a little harder, so his tip nudges the hood of your clit to fully expose the sensitive nerve. "Daddy knows what's good for you, honey." His hand tightens on your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks to part your lips. "You're jus' my little girl that don't know any better, ain't you? Hm? Are you my dumb babygirl?"

The kiss he gives you is filthy. Your hushed whines are muffled as his tongue fights against yours. The liquid heat burns bigger and stronger, spreading all throughout your lower half, down to the tips of your toes and back up again. Your cunt is fluttering wildly. You feel the same sensation as when Joel ate your pussy. He knows it's going to happen. He can tell in the way your whines get more high-pitched and your hips stutter against his wet cock.

When he pulls away, you chase after him again, one hand desperately grabbing the back of his neck to pull him back down. No, no, no, please, don't go, don't leave me. Eyes filled with tears, you weakly beg him, "Da-Daddy, p-please don't... d-don't stop."

As Joel pulls away, the panic clear as day in your eyes has his heart thudding faster. Oh, you poor girl. So desperate to keep him close by. It was an adorable sight, seeing your eyes filled with thick tears as you beg him, over and over again to please, don't leave me. But he hushes you softly, gripping your jaw tighter and pressing into the bruises. His free hand comes up to his lips where he spits a thick wad of saliva in his palm. His hand goes back down between your bodies to coat his cock in his spit, some of it dripping down his heavy balls.

"Can I put the tip inside your little pussy, baby?" Joel breathlessly asks against your swollen lips, pressing a tender kiss before repeating the question again. "Can Daddy put the tip inside? Hm?"

He grinds his cock up and down your pussy again, the added slickness of his spit creating this disgusting, sopping noise. You start protesting as he notches his thick tip at your wet entrance. Grabbing at his forearm once again, you try your best to keep him from pushing it inside.

Shaking your head frantically, you tell him again, weakly, "I-I'm not ready yet, Daddy!"

Joel shuts you up by biting down roughly on your bottom lip, breaking the skin and licking away the blood that dots the pink flesh. With your blood on his tongue, that only fuels the animalistic need within him to fucking split you open.

"It's just the tip, babydoll," he tells you again, his voice deep, gravelly, wrecked. "You can take it, honey. C'mon. You can... take it." Ignoring your crying protests, he slowly pushed his hips up to slide his tip inside your pussy for the first time. He groans heavily against your mouth, sucking your bloody bottom lip between his own and licking the redness away. "Fuuuuuck."

The burn was nearly excruciating. Having something so thick and wide inside your virgin pussy has your breath catching in your throat. To know that Joel wants to put every single inch of himself deep inside is terrifying. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. No, no, no.

"See? It ain't so bad, huh?" Joel's grin is sick and wide as he feels your hole fluttering wildly around his tip. He gently starts to push his hips in and out, slowly fucking his tip into your cunt. "She's jus' suckin' me right in, ain't she? Fuuuck, baby. She's jus' drivin' me fuckin' crazy." His accent was getting gradually thicker and almost incoherent. His heart is racing over a hundred beats per minute under your shaky palm.

You're trying to breathe in and out deeply to not focus on the uncomfortable pain. The stretch was slowly setting to a numbness. The tip of Joel's cock keeps pressing against a spot beneath your pubic bone, giving you the feeling of tingles but more intense. Joel's smile gets much wider when your body relaxes against his chest, your nose pressing into his neck beneath his ear to let out hushed moans that you're trying so hard to keep silent.

"There we go," he hums deeply. "She jus' needed time to get used to Daddy's dick, hm?" The way he's talking to you and referencing your pussy has you melting into a puddle. It's all so intense and overwhelming--you never want it to end. "Jus' you wait 'til Daddy gets so deep inside of her." He accentuated the word by nudging just an inch deeper inside your pussy, forcing a choked groan from your drooling lips.

Joel's hand is still curled around the base, just below his tip. He can feel the coil tightening in the pit of his stomach as his balls draw tighter. He's panting heavily against your forehead, the slick noises just adding to the liquid heat spreading along his large body. Fuck, he was going to cum just like this, his tip lodged inside his stepdaughter's tight, virgin cunt. A sick, old man he is--defiling his wife's daughter and enjoying the depravity. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Fuck," Joel growls, his nostrils flaring, jaw clenching, and teeth baring as he grips his base tightly and yanks his hips away. He slots his cock between your ass cheeks and strokes his hand up and down hastily, your bruised cheeks jiggling from his fist meeting the flesh repeatedly. The sight has his toes curling. The drowsy whimper you release in his ear and the fucking scent of your pussy that he can smell all the way up from where he lay has his cock throbbing. "Daddy's cummin', babydoll. Oh, f-fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck."

His cum shoots out from between your ass cheeks, thick ropes of white painting your bruises and cute little back dimples, even going so far to reach up your spine and almost landing in your hair. He just won't stop cumming. It's going and going. Joel's entire body is trembling as he jerks the tip, forcing out the last few dribbles of his cum onto your puckered hole.

You felt his spend splattering across your skin, and you wiggle impatiently in his hold, wishing you could've seen it with your own eyes if you weren't so tucked against his neck. Joel lets out a heavy, shaky breath. His beautifully hooked nose brushes against yours, coaxing you to lift your head.

He brings his cum-covered fingers to your lips, the tips rubbing lovingly across the bottom. Maintaining eye contact, you part them and let Joel slowly push his fingers into your mouth. The taste of his cum on your tongue was unlike anything you've ever tasted. It was a masculine, heavy taste, which perfectly accentuates who Joel Miller is. Your eyes flutter shut as you eagerly bring in a third finger, your lips stretched wide around his thick fingers.

"Attagirl," Joel huskily mumbles. "Jus' like that."

You and Joel have fallen into a steady routine. There's an unspoken agreement of where your place is. He can shoot you a specific look and you immediately know what he's trying to say. Joel's an easy man to read, at least to you. There have been many instances where you overheard him and your mom arguing about him being so closed off. But with you, he's so natural at showing you multiple sides of him. You don't mind, really.

As evening falls, Joel is at the stove preparing dinner for both of you. Although it's not your preferred meal, his word is final--what he says, goes. You've learned not to refuse what he's offered so far. Standing near him, you observe his actions with keen interest. Joel often glances back to ensure you're there. You trail behind him, following his every step without question, much like a lost puppy would. Even when he steps into the bathroom, you find yourself waiting right outside the door for him to emerge. It was a weird feeling; a fear you never knew you had within you when it came to your stepdad. You feel as though if he leaves for just a split second, he's never going to come back. And you'll be here lost, alone.

"Dinner time, sweetheart," Joel declares, snapping you out of your daydream. As you dash to the table, he halts you with a hand on your arm. "Whoa, slow down there, speed racer." Chagrined by his gentle chiding, you offer a subdued apology.

As Joel takes a seat at the table, you attempt to follow suit, but he loudly tuts and extends a hand to halt you. Grasping your plate, he sets it down beside his feet. His expression leaves no space for objections. Similar to the previous day, you are left without utensils to eat with. Wordlessly, you get down onto your knees and wait for him to tell you when it's okay to start eating. Joel starts eating his meal pathetically slowly. He's doing it on purpose--you know he's doing it on purpose. He loves making you squirm. He loves to draw it out longer than it's supposed to--just an added perk to his game.

When your stomach starts grumbling loudly, you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Joel barely casts you a glance. He keeps eating his meal, even going as far as to hum loudly as the savoring flavors explode on his tongue. When he has just a few bites left, knowing that your food is now cold, he looks down and gives you a single nod.

Immediately, you bow your head to your plate and begin to hastily mop up your meal. It's untidy and careless, yet it doesn't bother you. You're uncertain when Joel might surprise you again, preventing or restricting your eating. As you take each bite, you watch for a sign from him to cease. Looking up, you notice his focus is solely on his own meal, methodically chewing. Sensing your gaze, he commands without glancing your way, "Eat your damn food before I take it away." With a strained whimper, you comply.

Silence stretches through the air as you both eat. You refrain from mentioning to Joel that your stomach is cramping from eating too quickly, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the meal he prepared with care. When he looks at you, he notices the gradual slowing of your jaw as you struggle to swallow. It's becoming apparent to him that feeding you just once a day is taking its toll.

Suddenly, a series of knocks sounded at the door—five urgent, frantic raps. Panic gripped you, shoulders tightening and jaw clenching as you exchanged a fearful glance with Joel. His brows knitted together, and he quickly wiped his hands and mouth with the napkin.

He points down at you, "You stay right here, and don't make a peep. Understood?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before forcefully pushing back his chair, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. You wince and watch anxiously as he stomps over to the door and peers through the peephole.

Joel's jaw clenches upon recognizing the visitor. Muttering, "Son of a bitch," he pulls the door open, one hand gripping the doorknob while the other rests atop the doorframe. There on the porch stands your lanky guy friend, the one you visited the lake with. "Can I help you?" he asks, his tone sharp and unwelcoming.

Your friend shifts nervously, taken aback by Joel answering the door. He softly clears his throat, attempting to peer over Joel's shoulder, but Joel moves nearer to the doorway, narrowing the gap on his side.

"I was wondering if your stepdaughter is home?" he stammers, avoiding eye contact with Joel. "She hasn't been answering her phone, and our friends are really worried," he adds, while Joel feels a sense of satisfaction from the fear he perceives in the boy's demeanor.

"She's grounded," Joel says, his tone getting colder when the boy tries, yet again, to look over his shoulder. "Now, I suggest you turn your ass around and get the fuck off my porch."

Your friend's eyes widen, and he takes a staggered step back at Joel's violently dark tone. "The fuck is your problem, man?!"

From within the house, the volume of your friend's voice escalates, almost to a shout at Joel. You observe Joel's hand clench around the doorknob, and it's surprising that it remains intact under his grasp.

He can't understand what overtakes him; perhaps it's knowing you're mere feet away, or maybe it's because the kid has witnessed things about you he disapproves of. However, the only thing Joel is aware of is the white-hot rage engulfing him. You watch as he storms out and slams the door with such force that the vibration is felt on the ground where you kneel.

Outside, Joel's hands clench the collar of the boy's shirt, likely tearing the fabric with his sheer strength. He thrusts him against the porch post, almost splintering the wood and the boy's skull with the impact. Joel leans in, his shoulders rising and falling, emitting a low growl from his throat. The boy's whimpers are muffled as Joel's knuckles press into his windpipe.

"Listen to me, and you listen good," Joel leans in close, his voice low and dangerous. "If you so much as talk to her again, look at her, touch her, or even think about her, I'll have you wishin' you were never born." Your friend's toes are barely skimming the ground as Joel has him literally lifted up against the wooden post. His hands are frantically grabbing Joel's forearms, feet weakly kicking. The man doesn't budge--he only presses harder. "If you come back to my house to bother my girl one more time, I will fuckin' kill you." He gravely whispers the last threat and releases his hands, watching as your friend pathetically falls to the ground onto his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air as he grabs his throat. "Now, go on. Get."

Joel remains on the porch, his fists clenched at his sides, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath. His gaze is fixed on your friend as he dashes away and fumbles into his meager Honda Civic. Even after the vehicle disappears down the road, Joel is motionless. The fury within him, burning in his chest and gut, has not subsided; it has only grown stronger.

Within the house, silence prevails. A single loud thump disrupts the quiet, followed by stillness. You pause for a moment, the sound of your own heartbeat the only noise. The urge to call out to Joel is strong, but the words are stuck in your throat. Anxiety creeps back into your chest, gnawing at your heart and corroding your veins. Did Joel leave? Where is he? Where did he go? Please, come back. Daddy, don't leave. Where are you? Please, please, come back. Don't leave me here alone. They're going to get me. Please. Oh, God. He's gone. He's never coming back.

White noise fills the cracks in Joel's mind. He sits on the porch swing hunched over, both elbows resting on his knees as he twiddles with his gold wedding band. His knee bounces up and down in quick succession. Someone had gotten too close to his home--to his special girl. The lanky fucking kid. Joel's hands clench into tight fists, just begging to slam them into your friend's face over and over until he's a mangled, unrecognizable pile of flesh and broken bones.

He's uncertain of the time he's spent out here; it might have been minutes or perhaps an hour. Time mattered little to him. His thoughts were consumed by you, his little girl. In his eyes, no one could match what he has provided for you, and he believes you would agree. Joel is confident in his knowledge, convinced that you belong to him. He sees himself as your destined protector, even if his hands were metaphorically elongated like a beast with monstrous nails ready to strike.

You belonged to Joel Miller, whether you knew it or not.

As the streetlights flicker on, he realizes it's time to head back inside. The neighborhood is winding down for the evening. A sudden memory jolts Joel; he had left you alone in the house. Leaping from his seat, he flings the door open, then slams it shut, securing both the bottom and top locks. Turning towards the kitchen, he freezes upon spotting you—a mere few feet away, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, whimpering and trembling.

"Babydoll," Joel tuts and carefully walks around you to bend down, tenderly pushing your hair from your face and catching sight of your tear-filled eyes. "Did I tell you to move? Hm?"

The sound of his voice was like a lifeline to your heart—his words were the breath you needed, and you felt as if you were at death's door. In a rush, you stood and threw your arms around his shoulders, almost toppling both of you to the ground. Tears streamed down your face, and sobs of distress were just barely restrained the moment his body pressed against yours.

Crying out to him, "Y-You left me! You l-left me a-alone! I thought... I thought you weren't coming back! The bad people were gonna t-take me away from you!" Trying to bury yourself deeper in his neck, you silently begged for Joel to take you somewhere, far away from here.

It was naive to believe you could manage alone. At your current age, it's only a matter of time before your mom discusses the prospect of moving out. Yet now, the mere idea of being apart from Joel triggers a wave of panic. How can you explain to your mom that without him, you feel incomplete? She might find it appalling. It wasn't difficult to keep your relationship with Joel a secret, but the threat of being pushed out of the house makes you wonder if it's worth it.

"I-I don't think I can do this anymore, Joel," you wept, sniffling and breathing heavily in his shoulder, fingers desperately grabbing at the fabric of his t-shirt to keep him close when he shifts an inch or two away. "I can't... I can't be away from you. I can't th-think, I can't function, I can't breathe w-without you, Daddy!"

There it was, the answer he's been waiting for. Hook, line, sinker. Joel has damaged you so severely to where you need to be around him or else you'll go crazy. This is what he was waiting for, fucking aching for. So young, so innocent, so pure. Now tainted by his predatory hands, bruised and marked by his false promises and sick fantasies. This is a dream come true. His wedding band almost burns through your skin as you feel the cold metal on your bare shoulder.

"Oh, my sweet babydoll," he coos in your ear, that honeyed tone of his easing your worries.

If only you understood his thoughts about you, his desires from you. Convincing your mind that this relationship is normal, making you believe that this is true love—you poor, poor girl.

Joel continues, his voice gradually turning dark as his hands tighten around your shoulders, nails digging crescents into your delicate skin, "This is just the beginning."

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#joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller series #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark!joel miller #dark!fic #dark!joel miller x reader #stepdad!joel miller #stepdad!joel miller x reader

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m0llygunn · 1 year

Note

Hello! Can I request oneshot with Eddie and virgin reader?

Something like when they're talking casually and she confesses that she feels so insecure about being virgin at her age (22) when everyone she knows has boyfriends/girlfriends and had first sex a long time ago. But she hasn't even kissed anyone and she doesn't know how it works.

(She has also a big crush on Eddie but she's shy about it)

How do you think Eddie would react?

It's so personal for me but if you're not comfortable with this idea it's okay ☺️

Thank you for your time!

hi! sorry for how long it took! I didn't want to write something too too similar to Eddie's Notes, so it took me a minute to think something up, hope thats okay!

also this is my first request!! thank you! I hope you like it :)

it's not too explicit but 18+ only please!

wc: 2.4k+

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“How much do you wanna bet they’ll be fucking within the hour?” Eddie whispers, leaning in close enough for you to hear him.

“Huh?” you reply, catching Eddie’s gaze. He nods back to the couple you’ve both been sparring glances at ever since you sat down.

You and Eddie stopped at the diner to get late dinner after hanging out with the group at Steve’s house. He was just going to drive you home, but he insisted he was starving and you both had to stop for food. You’re not complaining, you’ve always had quite the soft spot for Eddie and more time with him is always welcomed.

You both sat at the back of the diner on the same side of the booth as Eddie insisted it was the best spot for people watching. Sitting in the other back corner of the restaurant was some girl you hardly recognized from high school and a guy who you assumed was her date.

To you, it looked innocent. They both sat on the same side of the booth, probably doing the same thing you and Eddie were doing. Their shoulders were just barely touching and they were making quick, shy glances at one another. To you, you thought that maybe it was a first date due to their nervousness, so for Eddie to think they’ll be fucking within the hour… you couldn’t help but look at him in pure confusion.

“His hand’s been on her thigh the whole night and she’s been slowly inching it up, see,” he explains in a low voice, motioning down to under their table. You spare another glance and just as he said, their hands are just nearing the hem of her skirt.

“I didn’t notice,” you say quietly, refocusing your attention on your food, picking at your fries.

To you, they looked innocent. You thought their nervousness was because it was a first date. What a stupid thing to think.

“Look, look,” Eddie says excitedly, leaning further into you, laying his arm across the back of the booth. You glance over as the guy's hand fully travels under the girl’s skirt.

“Eddie, I can't watch that,” you say, turning away out of embarrassment for yourself and the couple.

“What’s wrong? Never fooled around in public before?” he teases, his arm behind you coming forward just enough to nudge your shoulder.

“No,” you say quietly, throwing down the fry you’ve been swirling around on your plate before crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?” he laughs and you shrug.

No, you haven’t fooled around in public. You haven’t fooled around, full stop. Not even a kiss. Not even a hand hold. Not in public nor in private. Nothing.

“You’re telling me you haven’t gone on a date and the guy hasn’t gotten a little handsy with you?” Eddie teases further.

You’d have to go on dates for someone to get handsy with you. You shrug again, just faintly shaking your head. You turn your face away from Eddie only to be met with the sight of the guy's hand all the way up the girl's skirt— something you really don’t want to see. You redirect your gaze forward, having nowhere else to look at this point.

“I don’t believe you,” he laughs, hand nudging your shoulder again. You shrug again, sighing heavily.

“Eddie. I don’t go on dates,” you say, flatly.

“Me neither really. I guess, it’s kind of an old school thing,” he says, taking a sip of his drink. He clearly doesn’t understand what you mean. You brave a glance at Eddie. You like him. You have for a while.

“Eddie, can I tell you something really embarrassing?”

He sets his drink down, and while you go back to avoiding his gaze, you can tell he’s making every attempt to meet yours. You look at him for a split second before looking down at the table once again.

“Yeah, of course,” he says quietly. You can feel his hand grazing your shoulder, fingers just barely brushing over your skin. As nervous and embarrassed as you are to say what you’re about to say, his light, gentle contact is sort of relaxing, soothing in a way. Eddie’s always been kind, you know he won’t be mean about it, that’s just not in his nature, but it’s still something you’re insecure about.

“I don’t go on dates, or do anything like that,” you say, nodding your head over to the couple. His eyebrows raise before he relaxes into a light laugh, like he expected you to say something different maybe.

“Okay… not everyone’s into public stuff, it’s fine,” he smiles. His hand settles completely on your shoulder and that gives you the courage to just blurt it all out.

“I’m a virgin, Eddie,” you say, hushing your voice.

“Oh?” he says, in a short sort of quiet gasp. If you thought he expected you to say something else earlier, you can tell that he really didn’t expect you to say that.

“Yeah,” you hum, hoping he’ll give you some other reaction other than his blank stare.

“Oh,” he says again, his eyes shifting down to your crossed arms before back up to meet your gaze. You cower under his look, regretting saying anything.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. It’s so embarrassing.” You say, shifting in the seat, not sure if you want to get up and leave or just hope that the earth opens up and swallows you whole. Eddie’s hand on your shoulder grows more firm, keeping you still.

“No— no. I’m just... I didn’t know. Is it… like, on purpose?” he asks tentatively, keeping his tone soft.

“No,” you answer, shrinking into yourself as the burning from your cheeks turns into your whole body lighting aflame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning into you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you in closer to him at the same time.

The couple draw both yours and Eddie’s attention as the girl giggles loudly. When you look over at them, they’re both quickly shuffling out of their booth. The guy wraps his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding her out of the restaurant. It makes your stomach sink because that’s exactly what you’ve never had and it’s mocking you right to your face.

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s embarrassing. Like, that—” you say, motioning to the direction that the couple just left in. “That’s what normal people my age do. Everyone’s had relationships and I haven’t done anything,” you say hastily, feeling entirely too fed up with yourself for being in this situation. It’s hard to not be upset with yourself when people around you are constantly reminding you how behind you are, even without them knowing it.

Eddie squeezes your shoulder lightly. “I think you forget who you’re talking to right now,” he laughs.

“Eddie, you’re not a virgin,” you state.

“No, but I was. For a long time. Nobody was exactly lining up to get with the satanic super senior freak,” he says, adding emphasis to the names he’s been called over the years. You know he’s just saying this stuff to make you feel better about yourself, and it makes you feel worse. He shouldn’t have to put himself down. Eddie’s the best and it’s not fair for him to do that.

“Yeah, but you’re not a ‘satanic super senior freak’. You’re cool, you’re in a band, you’re attractive. So many people would be lucky to be with you. It's different, you’re hot and funny— and you’re not 22 years old and still a virgin,” you blurt out, squeezing your folded arms over your chest harder. You shift in your seat again, contemplating getting up, but Eddie’s hand on your shoulder pulls you in even closer to him until your shoulder meets the edge of his chest and your hip meets his.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m not judging you, you’re fine,” he says, softly.

“But—”

“I’m serious. If that experience hasn’t happened yet, it’s no big deal.”

You deflate into yourself, feeling the embarrassment burn hot inside of you. Eddie shifts, facing you but you keep your head down, avoiding his gaze. His free hand landing on your thigh startles you, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re met with a soft smile, like he knew that would get your attention.

“You know, you’re attractive too. Very pretty. Just because some idiot hasn’t made the moves on you yet, doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Don’t say stuff just to be nice,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat for an entirely different reason.

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you. You’re smart, and funny, and I like being around you,” he says, leaning in even closer, close enough for you to feel his breath on your cheek.

“Eddie, I haven’t even kissed someone before,” you say, turning to him abruptly. You're nearly nose to nose with him, and it makes your heart beat too fast. You pull back a few inches, looking at Eddie but his gaze stays low on your face.

“Is it a bad time for me to say I’ve been dying to kiss you?” he asks, eyes still lingering low, and you suddenly realize it’s your lips he’s focusing on.

“What?” you say, your brows pinching in confusion.

“I want to kiss you,” he repeats with clarity, eyes meeting yours. You shake your head, surely this is a joke.

“Stop making fun of me,” you huff, uncrossing your arms. You put your hand over Eddie’s to pry it from your thigh. He let’s go, taking your hand in his instead, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Why do you think I brought you here? Why do you think we’re sitting in the back of the diner?” he says, raising his brows. “And it’s not just because I wanted to spy on the couple who was practically fucking back here.”

“I don’t know.”

“Because I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s awfully hard to get you alone, you know?” he says. He smiles at you softly, squeezing your hand in his. Your stomach flutters. You’ve thought about this moment, wanted it so badly— yet something inside of you still holds you back.

“I don’t know how,” you say, feeling flustered. He squeezes your hand, dipping his face to meet your gaze.

“It’s easy, just come closer,” he whispers. You do as he says and he hums lowly. His hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head, keeping you moving into him at a steady pace and he inches forward, meeting you in the middle.

You let your eyes flutter shut, and you feel his lips on yours, light as a feather. He presses into you more firmly, and when his lips start to move, you freeze up, not knowing what to do. His hand on the back of your head moves to your neck, caressing you softly— like an encouragement. He slows down and you take the leap, following his lead. You match his pace, moving your lips like he does, copying the movements, and he hums again— like a praise this time.

“Easy, isn’t it?” he says, just barely moving away from your lips.

“Yeah,” you agree breathily, feeling like your whole body is tingling.

“You’re a natural,” he says. You feel his breath against your lips and you don’t know if you want to run away or lean in for more. He doesn’t give you the chance either way before he’s tugging you closer to his chest so your head rests on his shoulder. His hand guides you to look up at him.

“I like you for you. Not the experiences you have or haven’t had,” he says, meeting your gaze. His words make your stomach explode with butterflies but your head stops you from letting yourself believe his sentiment.

“Don’t you think it’s embarrassing though?” you ask.

“Would you think it was embarrassing if it were the other way around? Would you like me less if I were a virgin?”

“No,” you reply honestly. You would never like Eddie less for something superficial like that. The way he looks at you so softly is a testament to how good he is, you wouldn’t like him any less even if he were a virgin.

“Things happen at different times for people. I’m sure you’ve done all kinds of things I haven’t done before… like graduating on your first try,” he says with a smirk.

“Don’t put yourself down just to make me feel better,” you say, leaning further up towards him, squinting your eyes into a glare so he knows you’re serious.

He laughs at you, nodding his head gently before continuing.“I’m just saying, sex isn’t the end all be all of who you are. Not to sound preachy, but it’s only embarrassing if you let it embarrass you— and it shouldn’t. At all. Ever,” he emphasizes, rubbing his hand against your side. His lips quirk up into a smirk—one you’re familiar with and know that it typically means he’s up to no good. “And if you ever want to not be a virgin, I’m right here,” he says, digging his fingers into your ribs, making you laugh.

It was a joke— him being there if you ever wanted to not be a virgin, but then it was the truth. When Eddie drove you home, he helped you brush up on your kissing skills. Right before you went inside for the night, he asked you on a date.

While it didn’t happen that night or even that week, it did happen eventually. And when it did, Eddie was slow with you. He was patient with you, and made sure you were comfortable the whole time. You’ve always heard the romanticized versions of people losing their virginity, and how it was so perfect, and this or that, but with Eddie, it really was. He was someone you cared for and trusted and that’s what made it perfect.

He quelled all your negative thoughts. He made sure you knew that your sex life didn’t dictate who you were. What experiences you had or didn’t have doesn’t make you or break you.

He took you on a date, he kissed you, held your hand, held you. He took you on more dates, called you his, did all the things you dreamt about— the things you were worried you would never get.

Everything you hadn’t done, you did with Eddie. For a long time you thought you were missing out. In some ways, maybe you were, but if you had to choose, you’d do it all over again exactly the same, as long as you’d get to do it all over again with Eddie.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you again!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson x virgin!reader

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Summary: Grandma's funeral brings out a side of Ms. Sweetheart that Eddie hasn't ever seen, leaving the two of them questioning everything they've built up together.

Warnings: funeral service (I tried to keep it as neutral as possible so it could apply to any religion), mentions of cause of Grandma's death, failed attempt at sex, pretty much all angst sorry

WC: 5.1k

Chapter 10/20

Divider credit to @saradika Harris's note credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers

Eddie can’t remember the last time he went to a funeral. It might’ve been for one of Wayne’s friends, or a distant great-aunt twice removed. He doesn’t even own a proper suit for such an occasion; everything he’s wearing actually belongs to Wayne. He smooths down the creases in his black slacks; the material of anything other than worn denim is foreign against his legs. The elbows of his coat jacket are patched, and he slides his palms over them in embarrassment.

He takes a seat in one of the back rows, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible while the other mourners file in. There’s a pit growing in his stomach as his gaze swoops to the coffin resting at the front of the room. The realization that Grandma was inside was almost too much for him to handle, and he’d only met her a month ago. He hadn’t known her when she was…herself, but he saw glimpses of her now and again. The last time he was over for a Wednesday night dinner, she rested her head on his shoulder as though she’d done it a million times. You’d mouthed sorry, but Eddie had simply smiled and let Grandma stay there as long as she wanted. If he was being honest, he felt special, knowing that she was comfortable with him.

Eddie’s eyes are only drawn from the casket when he sees you walk among your family. He immediately takes note of your face, normally soft and vibrant, now stoic and emotionless. It’s a sharp contrast to your relatives, who wear their grief through bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. The hymn playing in the background fades out as a man speaks up at the podium.

Eddie’s barely listening, keeping his attention on you. He watches your mouth move as you recite the prayers along with the rest of your family, though he’s only half-listening to them. He’s never been one for organized religion, but he echoes the closing statement when everyone else does.

That’s when you stand up, smoothing down your dress at the back of your thighs, and walk towards the front of the room. You’re clutching a piece of paper in your hand, which Eddie notices is slightly trembling. He locks eyes with you, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip and offers the smallest of encouraging smiles. You acknowledge it with a tiny nod in his direction before taking a deep breath and beginning the eulogy.

“Um, h-hi.,” you start, stumbling over your words awkwardly. You clear your throat and try again. “Thank you all for coming to honor and remember Grandma. It’s evident that she meant a lot to so many people.

“When I was writing this eulogy, I kept thinking about who she was as a person.” You don’t let your gaze drift from Eddie’s, and you could swear that he’s the only force keeping you from crumbling to the ground in a heap of grief. “For a lot of us, we wonder what ‘big thing’ will define our lives. The occasion that people will remember us by, you know? But with Grandma, there wasn’t one ‘big thing.’ Her life was a series of little kindnesses that she made sure to sprinkle into her everyday life. Like, when I was a kid, my dad broke his ankle. My mom couldn’t leave me home alone, so Grandma drove him to and from the hospital and stayed with him while he waited. She always took care of us.

“One of my favorite memories is how she would bring me a bouquet of flowers after every dance recital I was in. She’d be waiting for me by the stage door with a big smile on her face, telling me what a great job I did, even if I totally messed up…she was the best. All she wanted was for the people she loved to be happy.

“And that’s what I associate with Grandma—love. How much I loved her, and how much she loved us. Just a few weeks ago, she was sharing Oreos with the kid I tutor, and it reminded me of how she used to be with me.” At that line, Eddie feels his lip quiver, tears dampening his lashes, and he ducks his head to keep you from seeing him break. This time, it’s more for your sake than his, since you’re leaning on him to remain upright. “I encourage all of you to find the little kindnesses in life, and to be the kindness in someone’s day.

“Grandma, you are already so missed. I hope you’re seeing the values you instilled in each of us. Rest easy. We’ll take it from here.” The only sounds in the entire room are the heels of your shoes clacking on the floor and sniffling from nearly everyone else in the congregation. You take your seat quietly, bowing your head as though trying to hide.

The rest of the service is a blur of hymns and prayers; nothing, Eddie notes, nearly as moving as the eulogy you gave. He barely notices when the people around him start moving, keeping a watchful eye on you. You’re trying to blend in amongst your black-clad relatives, but Eddie has no problem finding you. He cranes his neck just in time to see your family make a right through the doors, while you pivot left.

Instinctively, his hands tuck into his pants pocket as he fumbles for his cigarettes and lighter. He has no idea what to say to you, no idea where to even begin. He needs a smoke or three to clear his head before he sees you and stammers out some half-witted acknowledgment of your loss. There’s no time for that; however, because as soon as he steps outside, he sees you sitting on the steps. It’s freezing outside, but your arms are bare, and Eddie can see the prickle of goosebumps lining your skin.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he asks, drawing your attention as he takes a seat next to you. He shrugs off his own jacket, placing it over your shoulders without a second thought.

You offer him a sad smile, tugging the coat so it covers more of you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until you felt the contrast of his body heat. “Trying to avoid my family,” you admit, placing your hand over Eddie’s. “Could you take me home? I got a ride here from my uncle, but I really don’t want to go out to eat with everyone.” They’re probably arguing over where to get lunch right now, acting as though their matriarch isn’t about to be lowered into the ground.

“You sure?” Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together in concern. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want to take you away from them or anything.” He can picture the sneers he’ll receive, a pit forming in his stomach.

You remain unfazed to the conundrum he faces. “Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor. I can’t…” your voice catches, so you restart your sentence. “I can’t sit there while everyone’s smiling and laughing. That’s what happens when an old, sick person dies; people don’t even try to hide their relief. I need…I need to be alone.” You tuck your lips inside your mouth, attempting to bury your feelings.

Eddie nods, reaching over to take his keys out of the jacket you’re now wearing. “Yeah, no, I get it. We can get outta here.” He stands up, takes your hand in his to help you to your feet, and leads you to the car as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing either of you need is to be confronted by one of your relatives.

The two of you sit in the car quietly, without even the radio on. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s had a silent car ride; he either has music playing, Harris yammering his ear off, or a combination of both. He keeps his hands at ten and two, internally debating whether or not to rest one on your knee. It wouldn’t be a sexual thing, not even close, but he doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. His grip remains steady, the hum of the engine is the only sound.

You take this time to study him, taking in the crow’s feet that line the edges of his eyes, the tiny patch of stubble that he’d missed while shaving, the slight dimple in his chin. You try and turn before he can catch you, and though your efforts are fruitless, he doesn’t quite call you out on it. “Y’good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, smoothing a part of your dress that isn’t wrinkled. “Could you come inside for a little while? I thought I wanted to be by myself, but I really want you to stay.”

You really want him to stay. Not just that you need company, but you want him specifically. The notion sets all of Eddie’s nerve endings alight. “‘Course,” he replies, perhaps a bit too casually to cover up his excitement over the realization that he brings you some form of comfort.

When he pulls into the apartment complex’s parking lot and shuts off the ignition, he takes the opportunity to hold your hand again. It’s so much different than when he held it a few days earlier on your date, when there was an atmosphere of joy and hope. Now it’s like he’s pulling you along, like his lead is what has you placing one heel-clad foot in front of the other.

You unlock the door, accidentally leaving the key within its latch, and Eddie quietly removes it and places it on the table. His fingers ghost your biceps to remove your–his–coat from your body, but you just pull it on farther like a safety blanket.

“Y’want coffee? ‘M gonna put on a pot,” you offer quietly, already heading over to the kitchen. You scoop out a serving of coffee grounds for you, inhaling the hazelnut scent before dumping it into the basket, glancing over at him for his response.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he nods, and you put another scoop in before filling the carafe with tap water. With a flick of the power button, the Black + Decker rumbles and kicks on, and the drip drip drip of coffee fills the room.

You grab two mugs from the cupboard and place them on the counter. “How’d you even find out about the funeral?”

Eddie walks over, though he feels as though he can’t get close enough. He just wants to hold you tight and never let go, but you’ve put up some sort of barrier that he can’t quite interpret. “Oh, um, I asked Byers. I hope you don’t mind–I tried calling you, but it said the line was disconnected.”

Your cheeks burn. “That was Grandma.” Eddie looks confused–rightfully so–and you elaborate. “The morning that she…she got annoyed with the phone ringing, so when I wasn’t looking, she took the scissors and cut the wire.”

Eddie’s jaw drops in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. I left the house for a few minutes to get a new phone, and when I came back, she’d fallen asleep and…” you swallow thickly, rummaging through the refrigerator for the tiny carton of half-and-half, “…and she never woke up. First call I made with the new phone was to 9-1-1, but it was too late.” Too late. That’s what the EMTs told you: I’m sorry, but it’s too late.

“Oh, Sweetheart. My sweet girl…” Eddie’s heart lurches, and he instinctively reaches out to you. One hand lays between your shoulder blades while the other rubs up and down your spine. He’s careful not to let it drop too low, never going past the small of your back. Though you’re pressed flush to his chest, there’s still a strange disconnect between you.

Despite every urge you have to cling to him, you pull away and shove a teaspoon into the sugar bowl, sliding it towards him on the counter. “S’okay. I mean, it’s not, but…they said she’d had a heart attack. If I didn’t get the phone, I wouldn’t have been able to call for an ambulance anyway.” The dripping of the coffee maker slows as it finishes brewing. “Only thing I could do is go back in time and stop her from cutting the wires, and Melvald’s was all outta time machines,” you joke, but it falls flat.

Eddie frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the countertop. “You don’t have to do this, y’know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Pretend like you’re alright,” he explains, voice hardly louder than a whisper. He tucks a lock of hair behind his ear.

You feel an anger rising within you, though you’re unable to pinpoint its origin. “I am alright,” you insist through gritted teeth.

Eddie shakes his head, peering at you through his impossibly long eyelashes. “It’s okay to be sad–”

“Don’t you get it, Eddie?” You cut him off with a snap, slamming the coffee pot down so harshly that it almost cracks. “I’m not sad. I’m not relieved. I’m not anything. My grandma just died, and I don’t feel a goddamn thing! It’s like I’m some kind of monster.”

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He hugs you again, holds you even tighter than before as he kisses the top of your head. “You’re not a monster, ‘kay? I promise you.”

You look up at him, not quite believing his words, but you press your lips to his. He kisses you back gently; timidly even, but you deepen it and graze his tongue with your own. Your left hand weaves its way through his messy curls and your right fumbles with his belt buckle, but you’re unable to unhook the clasp before he steps back.

“What’re you–” His eyes widen and he puts his hands up to avoid touching you, clearly confused by your behavior. If you had the capacity to be honest with yourself, you’d admit that you’re not sure why you’re doing this, either.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, trying to reconnect your lips with his, but he just pulls away again. “Please, I…I need this. I need you.”

“If we sleep together for the first time right now, while you’re like this, you’ll regret it,” he says.

You don’t deny the accusation; instead, you double down on it. “Okay, so I’ll regret it! I’ll feel regret, but at least I’ll feel something!” Your trembling fingers brush against his shirt, trying to grab onto it and bring his body to you, but he turns with a scoff.

“You’d really be okay with that?” There’s unmistakeable anger in his tone, but it’s laced with something more than that; something that sounds more like hurt. “Regretting our first time together?”

“Didn’t we almost fuck on your couch the night we met? You didn’t even know my last name. You barely knew my first name.” Your words are biting, thick with malice. “When did you become so averse to meaningless sex?”

“Meaningless?” Eddie balks, digging his fingernails into his palms until they leave crescent-shaped marks. His lips contort into a perplexed grimace as he formulates a response. “I, um, I gotta go. I’ll call you–”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before, and I’m not falling for it again.” You can’t stop the words before they’re tumbling from your mouth, and you can’t take them back. “Shit, Eddie–”

“Just—don’t say anything else, ‘kay? I’m leaving.” He turns around, digging into his back pocket. “This is for you. From me and Harris.” He tosses a piece of notebook paper, folded into fourths, onto the end table and closes the door with a slam.

You stand there, dumbfounded at what just occurred–mostly at your own actions. When you move towards the paper, you realize that you’re still wearing Eddie’s suit jacket, and you yank it off and throw it to the ground, leaving it in a heap. You open the note and read, vision blurred from the tears threatening to spill over.

The innocent kindness of a little boy is all it takes for you to break down and cry, muffling your sobs in your palms though there isn’t anyone around to hear them. Grandma was gone. You’d chased Eddie away with the same vitriol he’d spewed at you that day at the record store. You’re really, truly alone.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you chant to no one in particular. You’re sorry to Grandma, for leaving her home alone. You could’ve asked Jess to run out and get a new phone, but you’d needed a break from Grandma’s anger that was always directed towards you. That morning, after you’d discovered the cut phone line, there had been another argument over taking her medication, and she yelled “I HATE YOU!” at the top of her lungs. Then she sat at the table and ate a bowl of cereal like nothing had happened. Instead of taking a deep breath and brushing it off, you’d grabbed your keys and headed to RadioShack. You could’ve driven there, it would’ve made the trip much faster, but you’d decided to walk. The fresh air would do you good, you told yourself, pushing away the full truth of the matter: you’d desperately needed to be away from Grandma. When you got back, she was laying on the couch, and you would’ve sworn she was only sleeping…

You’re sorry to Eddie. Sorry that he’d wasted his time with someone who resorted to dredging up the past as soon as she felt an ounce of anger and rejection. Someone who insisted that he could trust her and then promptly shattered that rapport once he’d let his guard down.

And for a split second, you allow yourself to feel sorry for you. Sorry that you couldn’t even grieve properly without feeling like you didn’t deserve it, because if you were home, Grandma might still be alive.

You look down at the card one more time, choking out a laugh through your tears at Harris’s offer to share his grandpa. It dawns on you that you’ll either have to stop tutoring him or continue to see Eddie on a weekly basis. Everyone who comes in contact with me gets entangled in my problems, you note miserably. Eddie’s finally getting his life together and I’m fucking it all up. He deserves better than me.

Maybe it’s a good idea to leave Hawkins and go back home, at least for the holidays. You’re not sure what type of celebrations the family will muster up, but it’s better than being alone with your thoughts. And if you never return, that might be best for everybody.

The bell above the drugstore door chimes as Eddie pushes his way in. He smoked out his remaining cigarettes on the drive over, and he’s desperate for another pack. He makes a beeline for the back wall, plucking his usual Camels from the display. “Perfect,” he mutters, though his lungs would certainly disagree.

As he shuffles towards the cashier, he spots a familiar face in one of the aisles. His lurking cowardice screams at him to run away, but he shoves it deep down and talks anyway. “H-Hey, man. How’s it going?”

Jeff turns around, first bewildered at who’s speaking to him, then tensing up when he sees Eddie standing before him. “Can’t complain. Just getting some of these prenatal vitamin things for Viv,” he replies tersely, shaking the bottle to emphasize his statement.

There’s an awkward silence before Eddie speaks again. “Look, um, I’m really sorry about what happened at our last show.” He rubs the back of his neck and winces at the memory. “What I said, what I didn’t say…you’re gonna be a great dad, dude. Like, the best. I was just jealous, but that’s not an excuse to be an asshole.”

“Jealous?” Jeff cocks an eyebrow incredulously, willing Eddie to continue.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, shamefully averting his gaze. “You’re bringing a kid into a stable household, and I couldn’t do that for Harris. I don’t regret having him, of course, but I’ll always feel guilty about the shitshow he was born into.” He taps the pack of cigarettes on his palm, biting his lower lip to shut himself up. “Anyway, I gotta get home—”

“Eddie Munson?” He turns around to see a young woman standing behind him. Her low-cut top shows off the top of her breasts, cleavage pushed up by a bra, and her jeans hug every curve. She purses her pink-glossed lips together in a flirtatious smile.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I’m Lisa.” She says this like Eddie should already know this, and he’s embarrassed to admit to himself that he can’t place the name or face. “We hooked up last summer at the Hideout? In the men’s room?” Lisa lowers her voice seductively to whisper that detail. “I haven’t seen you there in a while.”

“Oh, yeah.” There have been multiple men’s room hook-ups, but he’s not about to play detective to figure out exactly who she is, so he plays along. “The band’s been on a bit of a…hiatus, I guess.” From his peripheral vision, he can see Jeff ducking his head, and his cheeks burn with the truth.

Lisa juts out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout, though Eddie knows it’s all for show. “That’s too bad.” She lets her hand rest on his chest, leaning into him and twirling a strand of his hair around a polished fingernail. “If you’re not busy tonight, I’d love to have you over for drinks and…dessert? Recreate that night at the bar, minus the urinal?”

Eddie moves her arms from his vicinity, putting a necessary space between them. “Um, n-nah. No thanks,” he clarifies. “I’m, uh, kinda involved with someone, so…”

She remains undaunted, a small chuckle escaping her throat. “I can keep a secret. She doesn’t have to know.” She takes another step forward to close the gap, and he’s so goddamn tempted, but he shakes it off. He doesn’t have a clue what’s going to happen between you and him, but he knows he’s not going to sabotage any potential relationship.

“Well, I’ll know,” he retorts, “and I’ll feel like shit about it.”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Your loss.” She pivots on one heel and mumbles something under her breath that Eddie doesn’t even bother to interpret.

Jeff looks at Eddie with an amused grin as he shifts his weight from one side to the other. “So, you’re involved with someone?” He knows from what Jess has told him that Eddie went on a date with you a few days ago, but he couldn’t gauge the seriousness of the situation.

“I think so. At least, I was, until about fifteen minutes ago.” He relents and fills Jeff in about everything that happened, from your conversation over steaming coffee mugs, to the amazing kiss you’d shared as snowflakes collected on your eyelashes, to the unexpected confrontation after Grandma’s funeral today.

Jeff sighs, but it’s one of sympathy, not exasperation. “You did the right thing,” he says finally.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeff laughs, punching him playfully on the arm. “I’m serious. And you did the right thing just now, too, with that groupie.” He clears his throat. “Viv’s baby shower is in a couple weeks. Ladies only, y’know, but I could use some help loading all the gifts into the car. And we could grab some lunch beforehand, if you want.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, that would be great. Might have to let Harris tag along, if that’s all right.” He doesn’t want to keep asking Wayne to babysit, no matter how much the old man insists that he doesn’t mind.

“Of course. You know that little man is always welcome.” Jeff says, walking towards the register. “I’ll call you with the details.”

Eddie hesitates, letting his friend pass him by a few paces before he calls out. “Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“What do I do about…” Eddie trails off, unwilling to finish his sentence. He feels absolutely ridiculous having this conversation in the middle of the drugstore, but he’s desperate not to fuck this up further.

Jeff scratches at his stubble with his free hand, contemplating the options as only someone who’s been in a long-term relationship and hasn’t had to navigate the nuances of a fresh relationship in ages can. “Give her some time; a few days, at least. She’s going through a lot. She needs her space, y’know, to figure things out.”

It’s not the answer Eddie was hoping for; patience has never been his forte. He wishes that Jeff would have told him to chase after you, to go get the girl and make sure she knows how much she means to him. But he knows that his friend is right, and he acknowledges his response with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

“See ya around, Ed.”

Eddie unlocks his apartment door, new pack of cigarettes in one hand and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s tucked under the other arm. He doesn’t usually splurge on ice cream, but every romantic comedy cliche has instructed him that it’s the perfect remedy for heartbreak. If that’s even what this is, he thinks, but he knows it’s true. After doing everything in his power to prevent it, he’d allowed you to break his heart. And as he shoves a spoon into the container of Devil’s Food Chocolate, it dawns on him that he’d do it all again.

He’d come to your rescue and pick the lock of Grandma’s bedroom door. He’d sit around the table and eat pizza with you, Harris, and Grandma every Wednesday night. He’d drive to your house with store-brand cookies and watch cheesy Thanksgiving movies with you just to see the smile on your face. He’d take you out for coffee and kiss you in the snow a thousand times over. And he’d go to Grandma’s funeral and drive you home and turn down your offer for sex and break his own fucking heart again and again if it meant protecting you.

He shimmies out of his starchy dress pants and unbuttons his shirt, leaving himself in just a white undershirt and his boxers as he sinks deeper into the sofa. He reaches over for the remote–now that he works when Harris is in school, he rarely has time to watch something that he actually enjoys–and notices the phone’s red flashing light indicating that he has a new voicemail.

He presses play with a clumsy finger on the button, expecting Wayne’s gruff voice or a reminder for an overdue bill. When he hears that it’s you, he sits up straight, nearly dropping his ice cream.

“Hi, Eddie. It’s me. I’m so sorry for what happened earlier. I’m sure you’re probably mad, but I just want you to know…it wouldn’t have been meaningless. It wasn’t meaningless the night we met when it was supposed to be meaningless.” You take a deep breath. “I’m going back home for the holidays. Um, I’m not sure when…if…I’m coming back, but before I leave, I had to apologize for what I said. You’re a great guy, Eddie. I hope you know that. Have, um, have a nice holiday. Okay, bye.”

Eddie remains still, a loud silence enveloping the room once the machine relays that he’s reached the end of new messages. He’s dissecting every word you’d uttered, replaying them over and over.

It wasn’t meaningless the night we met when it was supposed to be meaningless.

So you’d felt it, too; that spark much stronger than the usual lust that overcomes him during hookups. And while he’d tried to convince himself that he’d only asked you to cuddle, had you stay over out of post-sex, post-show delirium, he can’t deny the truth any longer.

He’d asked because he felt comfortable around you, like he could hold you forever and whisper secrets that scare him to even admit to himself. Maybe it was because you’d seen Harris’s car seat that night and hadn’t run for the hills, or maybe it was the way you’d kissed him like he was worth savoring. And the morning after, when he’d all but chased you out of the apartment…Christ, you didn’t deserve that.

I’m not sure when…if…I’m coming back.

The ‘when’ he could handle, but that ‘if’ was a weight on his chest. He questions his actions for a moment–should he have slept with you? Showed you how wanted and cherished and safe you were with him? Given your mind a chance to wander from the grief choking it? But Jeff said he had done the right thing, and considering the man was engaged with a baby on the way, Eddie figured he had to know something about women.

You’re a great guy, Eddie. I hope you know that.

Is he? He’s certainly a better man than when you’d first met him, but is he actually a great guy? He’d bought you coffee and didn’t fuck you when you were too vulnerable to truly consent–is that what constitutes greatness, or is he just a step above a piece of shit?

And, of course, part of him is angry. Not only because you were so easily willing to use him–although that realization definitely stings–but mostly because you’d thought he’d want to. After everything you two had been through, did you truly believe that he’d be unbothered? That he’d throw away all of that progress just to get his dick wet? Is that how little you think of him? Eddie doesn’t want the answer.

The ice cream is melting, so he forgoes the spoon and just takes a swig from the pint. He licks the chocolatey residue from his lips before standing up to put the carton in the freezer. Tacked onto the refrigerator is Harris’s picture from Halloween where Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart are holding hands.

He plucks it from under the magnet, staring at it intently. The memory of his son and his uncle asking him about you, that pretty like a princess remark, the unfurling realization that he felt things for you that he’d thought he was incapable of feeling. He never should have taken their ribbings, inadvertently getting his hopes up that there was something there worth pursuing.

Without thinking, Eddie crumples the paper in his fist, crushing the family portrait into a ball. “Shit,” he mutters, placing it on the table and smoothing it out as best as he can. His hands glide over the drawing, rubbing over every crease until it looks good as new and Harris will be none the wiser.

But Eddie knows what’s been destroyed. What he doesn’t know is whether or not it can be smoothed out.

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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deafsignifcantother · 1 month

Text

my husband and I

♥ summary: alastor is an amazing husband, but the tone in the house starts to shift when you learn that he is the serial killer you feared. ♥ relationships: human alastor x deaf gender neutral reader ♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: big power dynamic issue, reactive abuse, murder, visualization of deafness and dependency, but they still have cute moments bc they're married and love each other ♥ a/n: A VERY SHAMELESS REPOST OF A YEARS OLD FIC THAT'S NOWHERE NEAR HAZBIN RELATED LMFAO

There are so many things running through your mind. You think about the smiles and how they always appear like a cocky smirk. Then, there's the way he laughs, even if it's a short chuckle, he bares his teeth. So many things could have alerted you to his danger. Are you stupid for not detecting it before?

When you think back, you are sure he had tried confessing his hobby (hobby, what a simplistic way to describe it) to you. He had made past comments about how he'd kill people, but you thought it was dramatics, and you had brushed it off.

He knows that you know now. The energy in the house had shifted—from both parties—and became hostile. The hospitality within your home had dissipated alongside the innocent eyes he would give you in the morning.

That night, before he undresses himself to slip into bed, he holds a threatening hand to your neck. He doesn't grab it or tighten his grip, but the implication is there. He signs with one hand,

"Without me, you have nothing, so don't you ever forget that, darling."

It's true. Your job, friends, the chance of a future being single, the idea of making money without him—it's all gone. It has been for a while. Your time in the house is all day, every day, and even if you wanted to leave, you had no car to drive. He keeps you here. It has kept you sane and safe up until now.

"I won't tell anyone." You sign with an empty facial expression. It feels pointless. With him, you feel like a walking corpse, somebody who is already dead.

His hand moves up to your cheek, where he pats you, tilting his head with a smile. "I know."

And after that, he stopped treating you differently. He returned to kissing your face every morning, leaving the house after cooking you breakfast, and doing all the husband-y things he was doing before. The days went on and on, and you were beginning to get used to the dial-back.

But you jump whenever he walks up behind you and places his hands on your hips. He has gotten quieter, sneakier. Is he planning something?

When you're alone in the house, you eye the phone, wondering if, in another life, you could pick it up, call someone, and leave the house without having to worry about what would happen. In a perfect reality, you could talk to the police about everything.

You can't even imagine Alastor in jail.

It would be your fault if anything happened to him. Would you be able to deal with that?

How could he even hurt someone? You try to imagine yourself doing it, standing in the forest and torturing someone.

It has been you and him for the last couple of years. He was all you needed and all you cared for. You didn't notice that he was stripping you of all your relations, your friends and family, stripping you of your independence and the things that made you human. He gave you enough in return. Your social life is spent with his coworkers while he interprets for you. You go to dinners, ones that his job hosted. You are always flashed as if you are a prized possession.

Maybe that's all you are.

You read his facial expressions even closer now. The furrow of his brow or the dropping of his eyelids always makes your whole body tighten. What will he do if he's mad at you? Will he hurt you?

You try to search in your memory: has he hurt you before? No, you realize. He hasn't. A sadistic twitch in his eye only appears in your romantic life. His hands have a consistent way of touching your body as if he is examining it.

You think about these things while you do the housework, while waiting for him to come home from work. Throughout everything: the fear, the sorrow, the guilt, you continue sticking by him. What else is there to do?

When he comes home from work, he puts his jacket around the shoulders of a chair, stepping close to you. You can feel his body—his warmth and his touch. He rolls up his sleeves and helps you with dinner without saying a thing. When you look up to him, he doesn't allow his eyes to look at you. A part of that makes your cheeks warm.

That night, he signs, "It's your turn."

You are too busy gazing into his eyes to realize he has taken his turn.

It was when you first moved in with him that you brought, in boxes, your board games. Whenever Alastor would bring company, he would force you to bring them out and be friendly as he played with them. Now, alone with you, he is being competitive. It's cute. And it's the Alastor you have known.

When you move your piece, he eyes it, tilting his head. Your breath stops. There it is again: he's examining you.

"What's work like?" You ask.

"Same as it has been."

You nod your head, glancing at his hands, trying to think of how many lives they must have taken. Does he shoot people? You can imagine that. The thought of him using his bare hands is beyond you; you've never seen him be violent like that. What about knives? His cooking - skilled, far off from clumsy… he may use knives.

He lifts his chin. His eyes ask the question: what are you thinking about?

There's a vacant space and a lack of words between you. You are chewing the inside of your mouth, grinding your teeth before you raise your hands.

"Do you use knives?"

He straightens his shoulders.

"When?"

"In the forest."

He smiles. The one that looks like a smirk.

"Yes."

You just nod, your cheeks warming. He's a killer. It's true; he admits it and doesn't shy away from the fact. But still, in your head, you can't seem to force yourself to be too worried about it. He hasn't hurt you, not unconsentually, and this thought taunts you like a loaded gun.

What do you have to be scared of?

A lot, you remind yourself. He's the danger: the stranger in your house that you need to be cautious of. Yet, ever since he had been revealed to you, he has done little to further the narrative of psycho-serial danger. He's still your husband. He's still the one you belong to.

That's why, when he comes home bloody, you shower with him before helping him bandage himself. You're the one who ruffles the towel through his hair and against his shoulders, catching the spare droplets. The two of you hardly even talk to each other as you press bandaids against his skin. You kiss each one.

Your lips touch the skin of his bicep, and then you peck upward, continuing to his neck, where you linger in the space between his cheek and his ear. His hand falls to your thigh, cupping the side of it, and he rubs the skin up and down. He doesn't move it from there, doing nothing salacious, not without your direct intention stated to him. It makes your heart race. At that moment, you forget about everything violent about him. But with those kisses, with the way his lips suck on your skin, you wonder if it is contagious. The violence, the wrath, and the war seeped into your skin like poison. You felt it corrupting you: the innocent front you had began to melt away, and suddenly, you were exposed.

Because when one of his victims enters through the backdoor: your home, your safety net, you do what you know Alastor would do if he made it in time. You grab a knife, hiding behind a wall, feeling their footsteps as they step closer. And when they round the corner, you strike them in the face with the back, knocking them down before holding the blade above your head.

You get a good look at their weak body, imagining your kitchen tiles as dirt, a leaf-covered ground, and the walls around you as arrays of trees.

You think about the times Alastor had held you behind him when people tried to talk to you. You think about the times he would protect you from the outside world, the ways he would drive himself insane to make sure you were safe.

He did so much for you, and what have you given him in return? A home filled with paranoia and unnecessary caution? It is unfair to him. You have been lashing out for nothing. So, you decide to gift him this: a new sense of ego—a pride that cannot be hidden, developed from a realization.

In this lifetime, you have one beam of hope: him. With those vows, you both swore to stick together. Through sickness and health, through life and death.

He is your husband; this is the house where you will spend the rest of your life.

When Alastor stands in front of the dead body, he places both hands on his hips, tapping his fingers before signing.

"Is the mess for me?"

You are still breathing heavily. He can see it in your eyes, the way they are wide and craved, the way the person's blood still stained your hair and the skin of your cheek. Your serenity is in the dark gloom yonder.

But you argue against him and his assumptions. When he asks if you are okay, you just smile and nod. "It feels good."

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #x deaf reader

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shaynawrites23 · 11 months

Note

For your 200 follower celebration!

💋: I'd like one with with Sirius black! And the number... 58!!!

Congratulations to you on hitting 200! That ought to be a big achievement! I love your work BTW! Keep going!

Show Me

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Prompt: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

Word count: 678

Warning: suggestive content, implied smut

A/N: im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever 😅 trying to stretch my writing muscles by doing a few blurbs before i write the longer requests, thought i'd clear out my inbox while im at it! whoever you are, anon, i thank you for the support and i hope you enjoy the drabble if you see this!

It started as a date. You haven't seen your boyfriend in some time, and the moment your schedules aligned, Sirius declared in his usual fashion that he was taking you out on a date.

In hindsight, you should have known it would end this way, and... maybe you wanted it to. You're dressed in the outfit he loves so much on you, smiled so innocently at him when he came to pick you up and ignored the way his breath hitched the moment he laid eyes on you. Or... well, Sirius believes you're only pretending not to notice.

He hasn't been able to keep his hands off of you all evening. A hand on your back, fingers tracing shapes on your thigh before he forces himself to let up on you slightly, hand reaching for yours, stealing a kiss every chance he gets... even as you leave, he has an arm around your waist, holding you close, smudging a kiss to your hairline paired with softly murmured words you don't catch.

And now...

Now, his lips are on yours before you've even entered your apartment; you're still blindly fumbling for your keys and have to push him away, just for a moment, else you're sure you'll be standing outside all night. He looks confused for a moment, and hurt, but then you're flinging the door open, tugging him inside with you by his belt loops, and the pieces click.

He kicks the door shut with his foot. You barely have time to register the dull slam of the wood before he's pulling you into him—or maybe you're dragging him closer by your hand on his collar—and he's groaning out a "fuck, so fuckin' pretty, darlin', my gorgeous girl-" before your mouths meet again, hot and greedy and wanting.

Sirius backs you up as he kisses you, strong hand gripping your hip. He knows the layout of your apartment well, too well for the way he bumps you against the corner of the dining table to be anything but carelessness. To his credit, he apologizes when you wince, hand moving to soothe the sore spot, but you've already forgotten about the incident, too lost in the way he's kissing you.

God, how you love his kisses. He has a way of kissing you so sweetly, moreso than you expected of a man like him, and that sweetness isn't lost even as his kisses turn deeper, hungry and impatient. Sirius kisses you like he wants you, like you're special, makes you feel like you're valuable, like you're worth it, and... and of course he does, you're all those things to him-

You're not given time to dwell on it, though, not with the way he's filling every corner of your mind. Sirius has quite the personality, too much for some, but you love him all the more for who he is. And right now, he's your breathtakingly handsome boyfriend who's leaning over you, pressing you onto your bed as he settles between your legs, and now your breath is catching in your throat.

"Merlin, look at you. My stunning girlfriend. Most attractive woman I've ever seen," he breathes when he pulls back to simultaneously catch his breath and admire you. You look like a work or art to him, a goddess, with tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, panting and reaching for him like you miss him even though he's right there. He obliges, his weight pressing you further into the mattress as his teeth graze your pulse, his mouth kissing its way back up to yours. "Bet you did in on purpose, tryin' to test my restraint... darlin', don't you know what uou do to me when you dress up all pretty like that?"

Breathless and not about to admit you chose your outfit with him in mind, though you're certain he knows, you only shrug, and you feel his lips quirk into a smirk just under your jaw.

"Oh, gorgeous, I'm gonna show you just what it does to me."

That he certainly did.

#shayna writes #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius drabble #sirius blurb #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius imagine #sirius black imagine #sirius fic #sirius black fic

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thenightfolknetwork · 10 months

Note

Hello,

So I was turned by accident about a decade ago. I struggled. I won't lie, several people disappeared because of me before I understood what was happening and was able to ask for help. I stayed in self-exile from people I could hurt for a long time, only making contact by phone with my loved ones for over five years. A little extreme, I know, but it was the option I was most comfortable with and most of them understood. I got through it, re-entered society and now have a near-complete grip on my feeding to the point where I can have donors.

When I told my friends, sapio and creature, about this personal milestone they were so, so happy for me. They threw me an amazing party and a couple of them even surprised me by volunteering to be donors themselves. It honestly brought me to tears, I'm so, so lucky to have them.

I gave them links, information packets and ways to stop me should things ever go too far, then we started feeding sessions, and that's where it began.

As it turns out, one of my best sapio friends… Well, it happens that feeding gives her a lot of pleasure. When she discovered this, I asked regularly if she wanted to stop sessions, but she said no. I'm asexual and feeding doesn't do anything for me (probably for the best given my history) but I don't mind, honestly? It actually makes me feel better that she's getting something out of it in exchange, and after some research, the rules and aftercare surrounding kink helped make the whole experience more comfortable for me and my donors.

This has been going on for a good six months, but things between us have started getting… weird.

Her heartbeat pounds every time she sees me. I find her continually glancing down at my lips, even when we meet up outside of feeding. I'll be talking and realise she hasn't said anything for ages, she's just sitting there staring at me with this little smile that I've never seen before.

She touches me any chance she gets too. Don't get me wrong, physical affection is the best, big hugger, me. But while it's not excessive; it is noticeable that she leans on me, puts her head in my lap, and adjusts my outfit when we go out. Small things that we did before because we're friends, just more. A lot more.

She's also become a little… jealous over feeds? For her height and weight, I can only take so much blood before it’ll put her out of commission for more than a couple of days and she knows I have multiple donors - hell, she knows my other donors - but I think it upsets her now in a way it didn't before.

I'm really concerned that it's going to cause a rift of some kind, but I'm also worried that this has been bad for her in some way.

Have I given my friend some sort of Pavlovian response to me due to the nature of our feeds? Or worse, have I somehow put her under some kind of thrall?

I can reassure you with absolute certainty on one front, reader: it is not possible to accidentally enthral a person. People with extremely strong powers of magnetism might find they have unconsciously exerted more influence over those around them than they intended, but never to the degree of full thralldom. In practice, the effect is barely distinguishable from the effect of natural charm.

Indeed, there are plenty of figures in history who have been thought, at one point or another, to be exerting magical influence on those around them, only to prove to be enjoying nothing more than the inherent social benefits of good looks and elegant manners. The claim that Hollywood is full of malevolent nightfolk tricking the humble American everyman with their magical wiles, for example, is a favourite among conspiracy theorists.

I think it's also safe to rule out the possibility of Pavlovian conditioning. Your friend is an intelligent adult, and while she may associate your feeding sessions with general feelings of comfort and pleasure, she is still very much in control of her own behaviours.

I'm afraid the solution seems to me at once far simpler and, in its own way, far more complicated. She's flirting with you.

Your friend already felt close enough to you to volunteer as your donor. She trusts you and enjoys your company. To that, you added the potent mixture of spending time with her in an intensely personal and vulnerable situation, paying her close attention, and performing an act which gives her a great deal of physical, erotic pleasure.

In short, I think it very likely that if your friend does not already consider herself in love with you, she is well on her way. This might be a comfort, in some ways – the worst case scenario here is a broken heart. Painful, perhaps, but not usually life-threatening.

You need to talk to your friend directly. Get this all out into the open, and then work together to find a solution. I understand you're concerned this will create a rift between the two of you. But it is far better to take that risk than to try and sweep these feelings under the carpet and just hope everything will be alright.

And the thing is, everything really might be alright. It might be that nothing needs to change. If you feel comfortable with your friend's romantic feelings, and are able to enjoy her increased physical affection and personal attention, then by all means, enjoy yourself.

However, I want to be extremely clear upon this next point. You do not owe it to her – or to anyone else – to embark upon a romantic relationship. You did not “lead her on”. That kind of thinking is nothing more than social pressure to conform to amatonormative expectations of love, sex and romance.

If you don't want your relationship to take on a romantic dimension, you need to draw that line clearly and firmly, and stick to it.

Finally, if that is how you feel, I would also strongly recommend removing her from your roster of donors. The alternative just feels rather unnecessarily cruel.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

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dotster001 · 2 years

Text

Hidden Desire: Prologue

Summary:Jamil x gn! Reader Jamil doesn't understand why every other overblotted student has regained their reputation and he hasn't...then he figures out the common denominator is you.

A/N:After I tortured my coworker with the Vil fic, I'm being nice to her with a Jamil one...well, I'll eventually be nice to her 😁

Chapters One Two Three Four Five Six

The SDC had been his big chance to get his good guy reputation back after….um…the incident. It had definitely helped, but since NRC hadn't won, he still was not where he'd liked to be.

He knew that trying to overthrow his housewarden via hypnotizing an entire dorm, and kidnapping you looked really bad.

But Leona and Vil had attempted murder! Azul tried to drain students of their very essence after extorting them! Riddle…well, Riddle was an odd case being the first overblot. But for the most part, Jamil couldn't understand how all the overblotters we're on good terms with the school reputation wise. They'd barely done anything, and he'd been working his ass off!

It was today that he realized the difference. He arrived at lunch to get some food, when he noticed Kalim wasn't sitting at his normal seat. He was sitting with you and your silly first year friends. Kalim waved him over, and he gave in with a heavy sigh.

"Pull up a chair, Jamil. There's room!" Kalim said happily.

Jamil looked at you and your friends, warily before saying, "It doesn't look like there's much room…"

"Sure there is," you said scooching so half of your chair was empty. "You can join me." You patted the empty part of your chair, and he begrudgingly took it.

"Good call dude," Ace said through a mouthful of food, "Once they get here they'd have made that decision for you."

"They?" Jamil asked.

"That's my seat," he heard a low growl behind him, and turned to see Leona looking annoyed.

"Pardon?" Jamil asked.

"It's my turn for that seat," Leona said, looking, annoyed, between the two of you.

"We have to add him into the schedule somehow, kitty cat," you giggled. "You can sit with me tomorrow, and we'll proceed as normal."

"Like I care," he sighed, before gesturing to Ace to scooch over.

Riddle wasn't far behind, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Jack, and soon the other overblotters had joined the table, sharing seats with first years, and acting like this was a daily thing.

"Housewarden Rosehearts?" He saw a Heartslaybul student approach the table, looking as calm as ever.

"Yes?"

"Can you look at this assignment for me? I want to make sure it's right."

The student has asked it like it was nothing. Jamil had never seen someone so calm when speaking with Riddle. But it just got weirder.

"Actually, Housewarden Ashengrotto is much more knowledgeable on the subject, you might want him to look at it."

"Alright, Housewarden?" The student asked.

"But of course!" Azul looked at the paper, made some suggestions and handed it back without asking for anything in return. Then the random student stayed and continued talking to them like it was nothing. They even addressed Jamil!

….

It took him a week to make the connection. You! Students weren't afraid to approach the housewardens when you were around, and, thus, it gave them the opportunity to put themselves in others' good graces. They even talked to him when you were around.

Your seal of approval meant something. And now that he knew that, he was going to use you to fix his position at the school.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @leonia0

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

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chaifootsteps · 1 year

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(Patreon anon) Here's the last of what I have of my QnA archive, I don't plan to repledge so cheers to whoever uses their money to snitch like me.

-HB season 1 takes place within one year

-Wally Wackford won't appear much in season 2 but will be important in the future.

-Vivzie would love more Wally merch but her merch lead doesn't feel confident in it selling well.

-Vivzie hasn't consider making pride merch because "It's the kind of thing that big corporations to try to appeal to a generation they're not normally involved in."

-Vivzie claims the whole show is a celebration of pride and doesn't feel the need to make pride merch but would be down to making if there's a demand for it. (With the amount of fan merch I've seen, there is)

-She claims to do general research for the HH character time period but doesn't integrate the history into their backstories as of now.

-Viv's open to oversea convention appearances and has been trying to get a booking agent to travel more for European conventions.

-Paimon's a big shapeshifter and is only an owl because that's what he needs to be.

-There was a time where Vivzie hated Zoophobia, saying if something doesn't work out, keep trying new projects that excite you.

-One hell year equals a lot of Earth years, so stolas existed well before 1985.

-Vivzie actually loves Mammon's design, she conceptualized it and had someone else finalize it. Sort of like how Oz was designed by someone on the team with Vivzie finalizing it.

-Vivzie wanted to show men can be abused too with Stolas

-Jeremy Jordan might join be cast by Vivzie since she knows him

-Stella may not want Stolas dead right away anymore, just at a later time. (This was asked pre-Western Energy)

-It's currently unclear when we'll get HH merch with their full series designs since they're owned by A24. (This was months before the recall of that Sir Pentious keychain that used the full series design)

-At the time, they were aiming for a three month wait period between HB episodes for season 2.

-Unlike HH, HB isn't considered a musical to Vivzie but will have elements to it in season 2.

-Vivzie doesn't remember what the golden feathers in epsiode 6 meant. Adam saids the artist come up with a bunch of ideas.

-Sinners technically don't need food and water to live, it's mostly out of habit and indulgence. Electronic sinners like Vox find a way through cartoon logic.

-Because of how long episode 8 was taking, Vivzie and Adam have started making HB comics of what happens between the episodes. They're still figuring it out with HH.

-If Oz ever met Valentino, he would hate him. The team jokes that Val would be very "notice me senpai" with him.

-Stolas is confirmed to be 8ft tall with Blitz at 5ft.

-Fights between an overlord and a goetia would barely happen so Vivzie wouldn't know which one would win.

-Tilla was removed as a sibling because Blitz's family was still in the early works, she's going to be renamed.

-Vivzie doesn't have a specific favorite villain archetypes, she enjoys ruthless mean girls and dramatic, and theatrical messed up villains like The Joker.

-Episode 6's collaboration was fun for Vivzie but complicated because she had to manage an entire second team, There were file issues and they had to go back and forth to make sure they were correct.

-Vivzie's interested in making more Zoophobia merch but doesn't wish to for other older projects. She mentions it'd be hard to convince her merch lead that anyone would want to buy anything from her older works.

-Stolas does have guilt with his affair and he has a lot of turmoil related to it.

-Leviathan will have a cameo in season 2

-Vivzie can't give specifics but Stolas doesn't have many friends who we might see them in the future. Stella has two friends who at the moment of that QnA don't have names.

-White marks on Imps are scars, and can be added for aesthetics (Unsure if she means design wise or in-universe cosmetics, possibly both with how Barbie looks)

-Stolas's job is to look into the skies of Earth and find prophecies in them and inform Hell of what's to come in the future, he doesn't do much other than that.

-Oz has a broad range of powers, there were too many to list in the timespan of the QnA.

-Octavia takes after Stolas in that she's socially unaware, Vivzie claims she also unaware of her parents's relationship because of Stolas trying hard to make it seem things are fine and does that to a "good extent".

-we'll see what Octavia and Stella's relationship is like later.

-Vivzie would like to release an artbook bigger than their con-exclusive one for HB after season 2 and when the team is free to organize the production art, she's unable to do one for HH at the moment.

-DHORK will return

-She's still figuring out the sins but don't want them to be fallen angels since it doesn't matter in HB, but it will for HH. So she wants to wait until HH to decide. (Possible they figured it out with HH season 1 done)

-She finds people saying the childhood friends trope with Stolitz being fanservice frustrating. (As seen with her recent rant of the overall story)

-Vivzie adopted Pixel a year and a half after she graduated SVA. She didn't explain how she got Honeybee and Nugget.

-full quote "There would be demons from the ring of Lust who would be asexual, and they will get to that in the future. But she generally imagines that lust demons wouldn't think it'd that much of a taboo. Lust demons would generally be confused by the concept, but they wouldn't have any hate.

Asmodeus would be an example of someone who wouldn't understand asexuality"

-She would like region-free dvds of HB but it would require re-negotiations with everyone who was involved with the show, if they do release it, it'll be difficult to make it region-free.

-Stolitz didn't interact at all between the 25 years apart.

-She put a lot of her life into Loo Loo Land, and yes...Viv's dad was openly horny in front of her and her sisters growing up, Viv found it funny but like I told Lemon...There was no mention of how her sisters felt about it.

-Viv put aspects of herself into Octavia but claims to not be a self-insert. Fizz has an aspect that is directly from Viv that we'll see in season 2 that she feels needs to be shown.

-HB was spun off because IMP was originally for HH, with Vivzie thinking they were better off as their own thing. HB's also about exploring Vivzie's hell like the demons that possess people.

-HB/HH was inspired by Batman and various musicals with the idea that she wanted a worlds with nothing but villains.

-The fan interpretations of Andrealphus were pretty close to what she's written for him.

-Vivzie's interpretation of Stolas's "I used to think that I was bold, I used to think that love was for fun" is meant that he's never gotten the chance to experience true love with him being gay and he had an arranged marriage.

-She wants Stolas and Stella's relationship to be something that's debated.

-The Von Eldritches will not appear in HH season 1

-question "How did Viv get to where she was? How did she get Hazbin and Helluva produced?"

answer: "She has reps who set her up with people very interested in her show. It was the producers who pitched their interest in her. This is what happened with Hazbin in that production companies showed what they would do for that show. When A24 showed interest in Hazbin, that's when she started pitching it to others (No mention of that those others are)"

-The certificate on Loona's adoption paper was signed by Beelzebub.

-HH will have the same level of NSFW and dark as HB is at the time of season 2's beginning, (I'm not sure why people are thinking it'll be even more if she has to obey S&P with a TV show) she admits to not having a good gauge of what's too extreme as she just does what she wants to do to tell her story. HH is new territory since it's more story based than HB.

-YT doesn't allow the use of the word "cunt" so Mammon will be heavily censored with the amount of time he saids it. There's also a scene in HB that a storyboard artist went too extreme on and Vivzie was afraid it would be rejected but turned out to be okay. (This ask was in September 2022, she didn't mention which scene but if I had to guess it might have been the dildo room)

-Oz is aware of Fizz being an imp, but Vivzie doesn't know if it's an open fact and she might use it as a story element someday.

-Rosie is an overlord, that's all Vivzie can say when asked what kind of demon she is.

-At the time Vivzie was still figuring out how time works in hell, Sinners are stuck at the age they died as while Hellborns do age.

-Stolas would have thought of Blitz a lot after their day together and has a problem separating fantasy from reality, Blitz would have never thought of him.

-Blitz's horse obsession started as an inside joke among the team

-Vivzie can't say if season 2 will have a Stolitz kiss

-Episode 6's collab started 4-5 months before the episode came out, There's no plans for season 2 to have one but Vivzie would love to do it again.

-When asked if any new characters will join IMP in season 2 Vivzie said "Not this season!"

-Stolas can transform into other things, but Vivzie is still deciding if it's something he can do on his own or needs the grimoire for it.

-Vivzie uses Google sheets to write and takes the complete draft to something called Final Draft to finish it

-That white cyclops guy that shows up in Cherri Bomb's segment of Addict is likely to change but that's all Vivzie can say.

-Striker was confirmed to be a hybrid hellborn.

-The client giving birth button in episode 1 was an oversight on Vivzie's part but did say that IMP had hellborn clients before

-Any remaining reveals of HH characters will be minor characters from the pilot, the final reveal will be a brand new character. (This was before the Adam reveal, so he could have been the final one)

-The thing about the sins being a pseudo-family with "nice and asshole" ones were accurate to what's been told to you, same with them technically being goetias, they're just in a different category.

-We'll see Oz and Mammon's relationship in the middle of season 2.

-A lot of material things have been made in the greed ring, it's very industrial, full of banks, smoggy and crime ridden like that was seen in the Chaz episode.

-HH and HB are planned out but said that there's "wiggle room' in that they figure out as the show goes by how they get to the events.

-Vivzie's still deciding what special powers Striker would have as a hybrid.

-If Vivzie had unlimited funds, she would love to make a movie for HH and HB and to speed up her production pipeline. she had issues in 2022 with her working more on HH.

-Claims that HH will definitely come out in 2023, but she also mentioned season 2 of HB will have a more consistent release schedule at the same time.

-Vivzie would like to make a height chart for the HB characters but claims the team doesn't need one because they know the size of them already.

> Vivzie hasn't consider making pride merch because "It's the kind of thing that big corporations to try to appeal to a generation they're not normally involved in."

Says Vivzie as she can't put out Sallie Mae merchandise fast enough, despite her having one speaking line and about five seconds of screen time.

> -HH and HB are planned out but said that there's "wiggle room' in that they figure out as the show goes by how they get to the events.

She's flip-flopped on how planned out the show is so many times it's not even funny anymore.

> Stolas does have guilt with his affair and he has a lot of turmoil related to it.

Figures this was before both scenes where he says he has zero guilt and would feel bad if he thought he did something wrong but doesn't.

> -Stolas would have thought of Blitz a lot after their day together and has a problem separating fantasy from reality, Blitz would have never thought of him.

What a fascinating character trait that we were all looking forward to seeing more of after Blitzo told him off in Ozzie's and popped his delusional bubble! What a shame it was downgraded to "Stolas, as always, did nothing wrong."

> -She wants Stolas and Stella's relationship to be something that's debated.

Liar.

> -She put a lot of her life into Loo Loo Land, and yes...Viv's dad was openly horny in front of her and her sisters growing up, Viv found it funny but like I told Lemon...There was no mention of how her sisters felt about it.

> -Vivzie doesn't remember what the golden feathers in epsiode 6 meant. Adam saids the artist come up with a bunch of ideas.

Remember when we all thought that was important? Oh Vivzie, you fucking hack.

Thank you so much for all of these, Patreon Anon. Hopefully someone else will step into your shoes but for now know that you're braver than any Marine.

#Anonymous #Helluva Boss #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #actual blog post #Patreon anon

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delightfully-deranged-dagur · 8 months

Text

I redesigned my TD OCs. So I made a little evolution of all their designs. Part 1/2

Alex

The Attention Hog didn't have many changes. He stayed consistently orange but other things changed.

His beach-y look got more stylish and his hair got more swept back and changed in color.

He's still desperate for attention. That never changes.

Augustus

The Religious Do-Gooder didn't have many design changes but he certainly changed in concept.

Originally he was just a religious guy that went wild during the show. Feral!Auggie got dropped in favor of making his arc a bit more serious.

He's still a sheltered religious kid but his journey of learning about the real world will be taken a lot more serious instead of making him a joke.

Cherry

The Competitive Dancer barely changed. She only had one design before this and all that changed was making her a bit more modest. And adding some green.

Not much to say about her otherwise. Except some new additions to the cast will change her story arc a bit.

Darla

The Visionary had a big and very noticeable change in her 2nd design. The moon afro has become her signature look and the main reason I don't wanna draw her from the side.

Her outfit also got more darker in color. Which make the lighter part of her outfit stand out more.

Diego

The Zoologist is a design I haven't shown off before. Because originally he and his sister would be newcomers in a 2nd season.

Also not much to say about his redesign. Just cleaned up the original.

Personality wise he's a peacekeeper, he loves animals and is basically the team leader. He's also a bit of a neat freak but he tries not to be obnoxious about it. Tries.

Finn

The Workaholic got a lot less saturated as time went on. He's duller colors reflect how much passion he has for all his jobs. Not much.

His hair got cleaned up, the uniform less cluttered, a new shade of blue. And his stubble got more youthful. He's only 18. He doesn't need to look like he's in his 30s.

Flo

The Rebel Rocker based on Floyd Pepper from The Muppets!

Her outfit kept looking more pirate like so I just leaned into it. I made it her brand. Her hair also got longer with her bangs supposed to resemble Floyd's mustache.

Gabriel

The Pretentious Goth also has only 2 designs. And the redesign looks a lot cleaner then the original.

Darker colors, refined his outfit, a bigger hat and restyled hair makes a world of difference despite the similarities.

His opinion of you hasn't changed tho. He still thinks you're below him.

Isa

The Botanist is the 2nd half of the Globetrotting siblings. Unlike a certain other pair of siblings, Diego and Isa have a much healthier relationship. They're still competitive af tho.

Her design didn't change too much. Her colors did however. The dark orange looks better next to Diego's blue and makes her stand out more in the cast overall.

Now she may not look like it, but this gal is the Owen/Sugar/Ripper of the season. She's a total slob and it drives her brother insane. Not that she ever listens to his complaints. Or other people's complaints. She's a handful.

Janus

The Hippie bases on Janice from the Muppets!

Like his inspiration he had some prominent lips that got removed in the 2nd design. But were brought back in the new design. His pink also got softer.

His name however was the thing that changed the most throughout his development. Starting with Jason to Jonas to finally Janus. Which is pronounced basically the same as Janice.

I've been having a lot of fun redesigning them all. I hope you all like them as well.

The other 10 will be posted soon.

#my art #total drama #total drama island #total drama oc #oc art #oc alex #oc Augustus #oc cherry #oc darla #oc diego #oc finn #oc flo #oc gabriel #oc isa #oc janus

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jezmmart · 6 months

Text

Chamomile Comic Trivia #31

#159 - Notice

It's Sam! I wish I had written down more about my decision to add her, although at this point I'm fairly sure I wasn't certain she was going to become a main character - in fact it was RIGHT around the week this posted that I began work on the first proper cover art for the series which of course did not include her.

Her design was based off this old one-off pin-up girl art from 2017, technically making her the first ever major Chamomile Comic character to exist, sort of.

She was named after Sam Lloyd, likely known for his portrayal of Ted the Lawyer from Scrubs. The news of his death had recently broken and I had just recently begun listening to Fake Doctors, Real Friends, the Scrubs rewatch podcast, as my go-to background entertainment when colouring the comic specifically each week. It still is now, albeit intermittently since they don't always produce an episode each week and I no longer have a backlog to catch up on. Now granted, I don't love the podcast as much as I used to - can be a bit cringey at times as these two hollywood actors chat about utterly unrelatable anecdotes from their lives - but it's overall been enjoyable and it'll be weird to find something new to accompany my colouring if it does come to an end or stops being enjoyable once they permanently pivot into... whatever they plan to do after they run out of Scrubs episodes. It's been part of my colouring process for the comic for longer than it hasn't been now, haha. So... yeah it felt right to honour that connection to my comic with Sam's name, on top of the fact that Scrubs is just straight-up one of my favourite TV shows and Ted was always a character that gave me big laughs.

Of course... I realised after that I'd introduced yet another character to the comic ending in "-a"! ...But whatever, it's a common thing. Not so long ago I had 5 co-workers simultaneously whose names also ended in -a, lol.

The decision to have had her always be around simply came from not having any strong ideas to introduce her and preferring the idea that at least some of the cast already knew her. The gag's been done before, but I thought it'd be extra funny to introduce her with a scene in which she is specifically announcing her departure from being a regular face in Cammie's life, which typically would mean the same for the audience in most works with actually established characters.

Final little bonus note - in panel 1, Cammie once again is entering with a handful of steaming coffee.

#160 - Official

I didn't really mean for it to be so small it's barely legible at web size, but the little sign on the panic alarm button behind the till says "Real emergencies only Cammie!", in reference to #50.

#161 - Before

All that Scrubs talk regarding Sam is kinda fitting, because they did the "this character was always here!" gag there too. For their one, they edited her in on various memorable shots and pretended the main character didn't notice her being present, here I obviously extended the frame on the end of several punchline panels from previous comics.

Here's a gif that shows the original panels compared to the new ones, showing both the new and old art isolated as well so you can see exactly what I drew to extend the older panels which naturally weren't drawn originally knowing that I would one day be extending them!

The second of the three Sam flashbacks is just a nice little bridging one, but it did take me a while to decide for sure which way around I wanted the first and third flashback panel. For the first: while there's been a little bit of mild bad language in the comic once the seal was broken here, Sam's "bitch" is the first time such language has appeared so it amused me to place it in a scene that has already happened long ago just barely outside of the audience's perspective. For the third: the joke is of course that the reveal of Sam's additional dialogue is particularly adding nothing to the scene whatsoever - like, as if Cammie making a fool of herself would even be remark-worthy at this point. I felt both these two goofs had a good punch to them in their own way so yeah, I remember being conflicted over whether I had chosen the funniest possible flow of these three gags.

Of course, the final joke of this one, in case it wasn't obvious (I could see it being subtle for some), is that Mimi's whole running gag is she's a side character who also has existed in the comic for long before her first on-screen appearance, yet Cammie never remembers her.

#162 - New

The art and dialogue structure of the first two panels here is identical to #160. I think it being a time-saver on my workload for the week was definitely a factor - for whatever reason I needed it at the time - but I also remember going for something with that choice beyond just that... But I can't for the life of me remember what. I don't think the parallel between the two comics adds anything reading them back now.

Anyway here's Newt! I really thought at the time that he was going to be as significant an addition as Sam, and I did come up with the idea of introducing a regular male character at the time I chose to bring Sam in, with Sam's introduction - and exit - being an amusing way to introduce a surprise new character.

...Then I proceeded to never really get any super strong story ideas for him lol. More detail on that in a second. I haven't forgotten him though, frustrates me that he keeps getting sidelined!

#163 - Training

Standard behind-the-scenes retail frustration humour here. I can neither confirm nor deny how much is based on my current employment. A little detail of authenticity/flavour is that they're watching a DVD intended for widescreen on an old non-widescreen TV that's clearly been in their staff room for at least a decade. Such was the case for my painful training videos too! (It's all online now as of a few years into when I started, so some progress has been made I guess).

#164 - Huh

It's not made clear yet, but the new status quo that Sam is a receptionist at a primary school is established here - the coloured hanging letter signage on the wall that is too perspective'd to read says "WELCOME TO OUR SCHOOL".

I chose this as a job for her based simply on the fact that my Mum has often worked in school offices for most of my life. She wasn't a receptionist but it was the sort of job where I have some... vague enough memories of the "behind-the-scenes" enough to draw something along those lines when I needed to show Sam at work.

Getting back to Newt, obviously the goof here is that Cammie is just being a sore loser about her friend leaving and Newt is about the most cool-sounding interesting person you could imagine meeting. Unfortunately that involved specifically coming up with fun sounding stuff that are not super common to do or know people that do, so despite the super interesting combo of cave-diving, stand-up and polyamory these are all things I feel like I'd have to do thorough research on to represent in the actual comic accurately... which is something I'd like to do but, time is finite and I have so much pre-existing experience with being a silly nonsense person. Would you believe it, there's another character in the comic for whom that experience lends itself very well!!

Speaking of whom, the first appearance of the bell on the door in Repeat 1 Records was only a month after Cammie got the job. She works fast!

[Trivia Archive | Browse from most recent]

#jezmm #chamomile comic trivia #art insight

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alaskashigh · 9 months

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Arkansas headcanons bc I love him

When Arkansas gets really mad, big sharp diamond spikes form on his neck, back and a little on his elbows (neck ones are small, back ones are big, elbow ones are teeny). they have a red tint and are a mix of see-through clear and black. His bottom canines get a bit bigger and protrude more. Ears are pointy (elf ears) and he loves putting earrings on them. His ears are always decked out in earrings he's made (jewelry maker Arkansas the beloved) and he keeps the first ever earrings he's ever made in his ears 24/7 and refuses to take them out (unless he's cleaning his ears or his jewelry.) Hairs a spiky fluffy mullet that barely touches his shoulders. The shaved part next to his ears a bit outgrown. Hair is a mix of reds, browns, and blacks that fade into each other Occasionally has a small black and red tufted tail that curls, though he doesn't like it much since the other states make fun of him for it and call him "Piggy." (tail, spikes, teeth, etc are based off of the Razorbacks logo and are used in my Cryptid State forms. he is not walking around all day everyday looking like that ((unless he idk wants to)). ears don't count, they're always pointy.) Scars, cuts, bruises, scratches, etc everywhere. Has a huge scar down his left leg (starts near his knee, ends at his foot. on the back of his leg). Hands are always rough and calloused from how much he always uses his hands. Slept on his legs wrong and now he has a bit of a limp, one leg a bit more noticeable then the other and hurts occasionally. (I'm not projecting) Has a bunch of scratches around his pelvis area and on his hips

Always looks mad (even tho he kinda is mad a good portion of the day). Dude has a resting bitch face (same). He could be having the time of his life and people would think he's pissed (sometimes it's a little upsetting having to explain that no, he ain't mad, he just looks it.) Though he ain't upset about it. Don't think about him, talk to him, or even look at him and he'll be good. This man lives outside he actually would rather sleep in the leaves in the forest then go back to the statehouse. When he's at his own home in the woods he'll sleep outside a lot as well, but he also likes going back to the quietness of his cabin, cooking a nice meal on his stove (instead of the makeshift campfires he makes when he's too busy in the middle of one of his many 1000 projects and is deciding to sleep outside), and sleeping on his couch or in his bed. he eats, sleeps, and breathes nature, okay? (me) he ain't the Natural State for nothin I have dyscalculia so now he has dyscalculia. I mean it's only fair Will bury your body in the woods if you mispronounce his name. I swear to god he will oh my god he actually goes insane its like nails on a chalkboard its so fucking annoying its Ar-Kan-Saw not fucking "Ar-Kansas" or "Ar-kan-SAS-" like it actually drives him nuts you will never be seen again OH MY GOD- (sorry, might've gotten a bit caught up there in my own feelings.)

Wyoming/Montana/Arkansas headcanons

Got sat next to each other once in a meeting and ended up going to a bar after a rough time, now are inseparable. Didn't really talk to each other much, especially Arkansas with his "leave me tf alone" glare and aura, but secretly admired each other because they could relate to one another. Love to just sit in a room or outside, not talking to each other, and doing their own thing. They are very much introverts/have introvert characteristics and prefer the quiet. Montana kinda found out he had feelings for both of them, but didn't realize it was romantic feelings for a while. (Dude hasn't dated in a long time) Wyoming and Montana "got together" first (moreso them realizing they were in love with each other but not sure how to go about it, also not sure about what to do about their feelings Arkansas) Arkansas was not sure how to feel about the whole crush thing since one, he'd never been in a poly relationship before, and two, he hadn't dated many (if any) men in the past. (not even women really. he had his dog, cat, and woods to keep him company. not saying he wasn't lonely but he doesn't date much.) Took him a long time to even confess he liked them back. (He knew he liked them but figuring out if it was romantic or not was a struggle.) Took them months to get into a qpr as a way to test the waters before it later turned into a romantic relationship. Relationships are hard. (all of these fuckers are on the aromantic spectrum idgaf. projecting onto Arkansas like a bitch lol) Still considering on moving in with each other (they like their quiet space but also enjoy having each other around. While moving in together sounds nice, they still aren't sure yet since they don't know if their ready for that type of change. Besides, figuring out whos state they want to live in and all of that is a lotta work.) so they switch between each other's houses a lot. Some days they're staying the night at Montana's, other times they're riding horses in Wyoming's or relaxing in Arkansas. Bond a lot over shared interests such as farming, cowboys, sports, outdoor activities, etc and can ramble about it for hours.

We can just ignore how late this is (totally wasn't supposed to do this weeks ago. life gets in the way too much sometimes.) Anyways, I love them and don't think about them enough. Though I do need to do more research on Wyoming and Montana since i'm not from those states, nor do I know much about them besides knowing Wyoming's the cowboy state and where he is on a map. (proud being able to point at all states on a map, though that's what this fandom does to you lmao.) Sorry if I got anything wrong on Wyoming and Montana (can you tell by the lack of stuff on them that I don't know those two well?)

#im supposed to be watching a movie my friend recommended to me but instead I'm doing this. smh #wttt arkansas #wttsh arkansas #wttt montana #wttsh montana #wttt wyoming #wttsh wyoming #wttt #wttsh #welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #ben brainard

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 1 year

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Dark! Aemond x Helaena Targaryen (Game of Thrones style): Princess of Dragons.

Concept: After the rebellion by Daemon, Helaena and Aemond are in Pentos where Aemond prepares to retake Westeros.

Based on the first episode of Game of Thrones.

Warnings: mentions of abuse and violence as well as arranged marriages and a dark aemond. I aged Aemond up and aged Helaena down.

The flowers in her room had died a miserable death as most things here in Pentos. Princess Helaena Targaryen looked over the gardens that belonged to the estate where she was staying almost a year now. A year without any duties or expectations or even begging. She and her brother were treated as true royalty in the care of Borros, one of the many traders of Pentos.

Helaena found peace and great comfort into looking at the horizon. She pictured a big stone castle with a beautiful big stone bridge full of history and majesty. An image created by the tales of her brother. An image of what she dreamed of calling: Home.

It was far across the seas, miles away and taken by the Usurper Daemon. But her brother promised her that they would return one day.

With fire and with blood.

Now how he would do that. He was always vague on it. "With armies." He snapped at her, often taking his anger out on her whenever something bothered him. "We go home with armies." He promised his younger sister.

What was home? She wouldn't know.

Finally, a voice rang out to her that sent Chills down her spine and made her heart beat faster. She nervously pulled her nails as her second eldest brother entered the room. He had an undefeated smile on his lips and he looked nothing as an exiled prince who no longer held power. He looked as a prince who owned this castle. Helaena knew better than anyone that this is just one kind host. Sooner or later, they'll tire of her and her brother and kick them out to the streets again. Where she will starve again. Where he will sell more of their ever getting smaller collection of royal jewellery. "Helaena!" Her brother called her name sweetly this time. Perhaps he would not hit her.

Her brother stepped closer, towering above her with his intimidating height. He presented her a pink almost salmon colour of dress, made of silk fabric to her. She kept her eyes on him waiting for him to give her instructions. She was a girl afraid of her own shadow. "Go ahead, touch it." He told his sister.

Helaena hesitated briefly before obeying her brother's command touching the fabric beneath her fingers. "It's a gift. From Ser Borros." Her brother informed her with a grin. She felt her brows knit together in worry. They had been Borros's guest for over a year now. Yet he hasn't asked for anything for housing her and her brother.

"We have been his guest for a year now." Helaena muttered. She did not want to insult Borros.

She looked at her brother in worry. "He hasn't asked anything back." She noticed her brother's remaining good eye often glancing down at her body taking in her curves.

He smiled. "Borros is not a fool. He knows I won't forget my friends once I get my crown." He told his sister. He grabbed hold of the fabric that held her dress up, easily stripping her naked and bare. He took a step backwards to fully admire her before smiling approvingly. "You still slouch. Yet, any fool would see you have become a beautiful woman." He leaned in closer and for a moment Helaena was scared he might try to kiss her. Aemond Targaryen briefly leaned in when whispering in her ear. "Everything I've done, to keep us safe, to feed you, to keep you alive despite your failures, is that we one day will return to King's Landing and so that I can sit my throne. You will be on your best behaviour today when that savage comes to inspect you. Am I understood?" Aemond hissed at her.

"I've done everything you asked, Aemond. What failures do you speak off?" She whispered.

He chuckled as if he knew plenty.

"Had you been born faster, our eldest brother Aegon might have kept his paws off from that disgusting whore in the North. We would not have had a rebellion. Our parents would be alive. As would our brother be."

He blames her still.

She had hoped it would pass over time.

But Aemond does not let go of grudges. He barely escaped Westeros with his life. He had to pay the high price of one eye when an assassin send by Daemon found them. Their mother, Alicent died when giving birth to Helaena and Helaena had been a mere babe when Aemond took her under his wing.

Everything she knows of her house is because of him. Because of his dedication that one day they will return. She owned him so much. So why does she feel so horrible that she will be married today? Marriage is politics, Aemond had told her. It was common for a princess to marry for politics. And in return, Aemond would have his army. A chance to go home.

For many years Helaena longed to be home.

But now that it was so close to happening, she wondered if it was worth it. Aemond left her with a final kiss on her lips. "When they write the story of my Reign, my sweet sweet sister. They will say it began today." He smirked as if he had already had this army. As if he already won.

/a/m

Short drabble let me know what you think xxx

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #dark aemond targaryen x oc #darkfantasy #aegon ii targaryen #dark aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #helaemond #aemond x helaena #dark old work #AFAB Reader #Dark #head the warnings #writing #old work

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alwaysteveswife · 1 year

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Hi, I've seen your work and I really love it, I'm anxious to see what you do in Midnight with Eddie's story 😁, I wanted to ask you for a one shot of Eddie, if it's not too much trouble, meeting reader for the first time with this prompt 047. the bottom of a huge library, surrounded by books, when a black book falls from the highest shelf. would he try to talk to her? Or would he look at her from afar, thank you so much from before, it doesn't have to be right away, I understand you might be busy 💖💖.

Thanks for being so nice 🤧 and sorry for the delay, it hasn't been my week 🤧 buuuuut, here's the result ^^ I hope you like it.

Ever since you arrived in San Francisco, all you wanted to do was go into the library a few blocks away from your new home. It was, simply put, the place of your dreams. It was made of brick, a vine covered its walls, leaving only the windows free to let the sunlight in during the day. The door was made of glass, golden letters with the word "local library" rested impeccably on the transparent material. Ever since you set foot in the city, all you wanted was to go in there, take a book with you and walk to the coffee shop in front of it, be able to drink your favorite coffee and enjoy a good read while listening to the ambient music that the place had. Yes, a dream come true.

It took you much longer than planned to be able to carry out that plan, you had forgotten how busy it was to move. A week had passed, most of your furniture had a place, your clothes were still in the suitcases, but you weren't too worried about it, it was a quick thing to fix, and your eagerness to get into the place was significantly greater.

It was five o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, you remember it very lucidly. You opened those big glass doors and held in a gasp of excitement as you saw how big and beautiful it was inside.

The whole place was covered with small plants. Hundreds of shelves surrounded the place, all divided by sections, from children's literature to economics books.

Mischievous laughter caught your attention, you almost choked when you noticed that it also had a children's section that tried to encourage reading among the next generations through art and creativity.

You closed your eyes and mentally screamed at the sky, you were in fucking heaven.

You spent the afternoon among shelves, books and plants, too excited to notice what was going on around you. You had visited almost every section, except for one; recipe books. You were never great in the kitchen, you weren't bad, but you preferred to save yourself the suffering of accidentally cutting yourself, or putting too much salt in a meal, or, in the worst case, almost burning the kitchen, so you were never too interested in the subject. Despite that, you shrugged your shoulders and walked into those aisles, looking at the odd one or two that had a cover that made your guts growl with hunger.

The next thing that happened was a bit of a blur, it happened so fast you weren't even sure what had happened. A loud thump on your back sent you crashing into the bookshelf in front of you, causing one or another book to swing off its perch. You, who were too busy rubbing your head and cursing whoever had pushed you, completely ignored the fact that one of the books was about to fall on your head. By the time you realized it, the book was almost on your head, what's more, you were already assimilated, you could feel the bump start to grow and the pain create a crystalline layer of water over your eyes, yes, you could already feel even the ice pack to ease the pain.

"That was close" muttered a man behind you. It took you a while to realize he was holding the book just above your head, "Are you okay?".

You turned around to get a better look at him so you could thank him properly. You almost choked when you saw him from the front.

He was taller than you, had big brown eyes, his hair was long and messy, barely kept in a low bun. His smile was so friendly you almost couldn't believe it belonged to him, a guy with body tattoos, an ear piercing and a very 80's rock outfit.

"I'm so sorry, my niece is kind of hyper" an embarrassed chuckle escaped his lips, bringing his hand to his hair and messing it up slightly.

You looked to your left as you noticed a small pink shadow move. A little girl, no more than 7 years old, was standing next to you. She had her brown hair tied up in a messy braid with a pink bunny pin. She looked nervous, her paint-stained hands fiddling with the skirt of her kitten dress gave her away instantly.

"Jessica Taylor Harrington, come apologize to the lady."

You almost had a heart attack when you heard what he called you. God, was all your bad luck finally fading away? Was this a sign that you were made for life in San Francisco?

"I'm so sorry, Miss Pretty," the girl murmured, her fingers intertwining with each other, avoiding your gaze at all costs, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

It almost melted your heart to see her little eyes look at you with sorrow and regret. You weren't a fan of children, but there was always an exception, wasn't there?

"It's nothing, don't worry" you smiled as you watched his face light up as she looked at the man from earlier. He smiled back, giving her both thumbs up in excitement, the black book that almost fell on your head rested under his arm.

"Alright, let's get this back where it belongs and-" the man's voice lowered its volume as he paused on the book's cover, "Oh, lucky you" a bright smile crept onto his face, showing the book to Jessica, "isn't this the one your dad needed?"

"Yes!" squealed the little girl, bouncing in place. Sooner rather than later, her uncle started jumping up beside her, carrying her in his arms and laughing. "Let's go to daddy!"

"Yes, let's go to your dad" he replied teasingly, turning his back on you and walking to the counter near the entrance.

"Wait!" you yelled before you could even think about it. It didn't take you long to close your eyes tightly, mentally claiming yourself for doing something like that.

The man turned around, his eyes fixed on you, a smile still on him. You felt your heart race as you watched the sunlight hit his back and made him glow.

"Yes?" he asked in a soft voice. The little girl in his arms watched you two curiously, her small hands wrapped around Eddie's neck.

"Thank you, for catching the book" you smiled embarrassed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "Could you, I don't know, tell me your name? I want to know what the guy's name is who just made me save an ice pack."

You smiled as you heard him laugh at your joke. You liked that sound, it looked good on him.

"I'm Eddie" he held out his free hand to you, shaking it as soon as you wrapped yours around it.

"Y/N, a pleasure".

"Well, see you soon" he murmured, his hand still entwined with yours.

You nodded, your cheeks lighting up quickly. "That I hope, Eddie".

He just smiled back at you, this time a little wider than before. He pulled Jessica up a little higher, walking over to the counter and resting the book on it.

"Were you flirting with Miss Pretty?" the girl said, giving him a playful look that Eddie knew all too well.

"Of course not" Eddie whispered, hoping you didn't hear what he was saying.

"Liar" she laughed, hugging Eddie by the neck tightly, "mommy and daddy will love the news."

Eddie just rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming next. Jessica would run to the coffee shop across the street and tell Steve everything, Steve would tell his wife everything, and finally the three of them would pester him about this incident for the rest of his life. At least, Eddie thought, Jessica had helped him be able to talk to you instead of standing there for almost an hour staring at you from afar.

Masterlist

#stranger things #fanfic #stranger things au #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fics #stranger things fluff #stranger things blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things

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jeysecretive · 8 months

Text

So, the second chapter of my fic is over. I hope you enjoy it, ladies and gentlemen.

(Part 1)

BUT I want to let you know a few important things that are essentially spoilers, but extremely important to mention:

One: this chapter contains references to blood, use of medical supplies such as a syringe and injury description.

Two: I don't know anything about medicine and could be wrong about some things.

Three: my character will be featured in this chapter(and further and subsequent ones), and his role in this fic will be extremely important(you can consider 'em as a second main character). Therefore, if you are not interested in OC's, you can refuse to read this story.

Sir @weirdozjunkary , here's the part two!

Shaking off the cold raindrops, the hedgehogs run toward the forest clearing, first Shadow, then Sonic with Tails on his shoulder.

Sonic turned to the fox:

"- Buddy, did you say that you can use your miracle machine to SEARCH for power sources? We could use that now more than ever!"

"Oh, right! Gosh, I almost forgot about that!" replied the little fellow, and with eagerness began to adjust the device-"For a more accurate search, I'll have to turn off the beeper....and swap these contacts! Done!"

Pressing an inconspicuous lever on the side of the device, Tails commanded his buddy firmly:

"- Sonic, you need to go a little to the right to that big oak tree over there!"

The tree was clearly visible among the others, and the giant didn't hesitate to stride over there. Shadow rushed after him. Stopping in a small clearing near the tree, the blue hedgehog glanced at the fox.

The latter, in turn, focused on the route that was glowing on the screen of the search device.

"- According to my calculations, he hasn't gotten far! Walk a dozen paces forward, then turn right. I don't know how close we'll be able to get to him, so we'll have to proceed quickly and carefully. With any luck, we might be able to grab this guy before he gets to town."

Sonic confidently obeyed his friend's instructions and moved through the forest. Shadow on the other side, was snooping left and right of blue like a bloodhound, checking his surroundings. Suddenly he froze, noticing something in the distance.

"- Sonic, wait!!!" - came a shriek from almost under the hedgehog's foot.

The hedgehog froze, wiggling his feet on his weight.

"-Wait here, I'll go check it out! I think there's something up ahead, and you'd better stay here or you might scare it away."- Shadow said.

Sonic obeyed, anxiously following his fleeing friend.

Shadow stepped confidently towards the obscure object, hidden by a wall of cold rain. As he got closer, the hedgehog began to notice half-blurred spots on the grass that clearly didn't look like alien slime. When he sensed something wrong, he moved stubbornly forward, sliding across the forest floor.

The tracks became clearer and clearer, and the hedgehog, with a growing sense of unease, traversed the small bushes and slippery, wet grass.

At last a dismal sight appeared before Shadow's eyes. Barely losing his balance from horror, the black hedgehog backed up. A chilling sense of panic developed in his stomach as his mind was able to assess what he saw.

The tiny clearing that opened up to his view looked more like the scene of a bloody massacre: the rain had eroded the scarlet puddle, turning it into streams. The grass was crumpled and bloodstained in some places.

And right in front of Shadow, in the middle of this madness, a Mobian lay on his side, showing no signs of life. And from the look of him, such a state was justified.

His drenched black cloak was soaked with red liquid and looked very shabby. The pants and the sleeves of the sweater that showed from underneath were tattered and worn. It looked as if the mobian had been torn apart, then left here to die.

With self-controling himself, Shadow cautiously approached the body.

"-Hey... You-?" the hedgehog didn't have time to finish. The Mob sighed hoarsely and clenched their hand with pain feeling. Apparently, they was completely unable to move. Shadow's insides twisted into a lump, catching his breath. "Oh, my God..."

He was brought out of his painful stupor by the fox's voice in his earpiece-"Hey Shadow, how are you doing?"

"-I'm fine, but-"

"-Did you notice someone around here?"

"-Yeah, but it's the mobian, and they're obviously needs an ambulance!"

"-We're on our way to you!"

"- Copy that."

Sonic peered anxiously into the thick of the grove, stepping over the trees. When he reached Shadow, all he could do was sigh in horror, hastily covering Tails' eyes with his hand.

"- Poor guy..."

"They're still alive," Shadow replied, "We need to get 'em to the base and get them some help."

"What about a regular ambulance?" blue asked puzzled.

"They can't get here in this weather, so you do it."

Sonic nodded in agreement.

"Hey guys, did you happen to mistake the alien for a person?" came the tense voice of the fox from behind Sonic's palm. "My device says it's right in front of us!"

The hedgehogs looked at each other in silence.

"But their-" Sonic began.

"-Tails, all devices in the world make mistakes sometimes. I doubt it's a robot or a cyborg, otherwise it wouldn't be- Like this..."- quickly interrupted the blue guy Shadow-"And I don't think there's time for doubt or testing. We need to hurry before it's too late! GUN will determine for themselves who this person is."

Foxy answered nothing, and without hesitation began to go through his machine, trying to find the error.

Meanwhile, the dark hedgehog picked the person up in his arms and gently brought them over to Sonic. The giant lowered his palm without further ado. Carefully placing the body on his arm, the blue one, trying not to let Tails see too much and not to be scared, took his palm away from the kid's face and quickly picked Shadow up from the ground, placing him on his other shoulder. Thankfully, the fox cub was so immersed in his work that he didn't even look up.

Finally placing his friends on top of him, the hedgehog covered the mob with his other palm, thus forming a "house".

After crossing the forest, Sonic began to pick up speed on the shore of the lake, and finally rushed to the base, keeping an eye on the condition of the man resting in his palms.

Five minutes later, he was already standing near the entrance, waiting for the doors to open.

Carefully peeking between his fingers, Sonic made sure his burden was secure.

Then, after waiting for the bulky airlock to open, letting him inside, the hedgehog quickly stepped over the threshold and rushed forward down the corridor.

Almost immediately he bumped into the general, rushing apparently to the opposite end of the base.

Noticing the guys she stopped the platform she was standing on and inquired, "- How's your mission, boys? Have you started anything interesting?"

"–Unfortunately, no. We took a close look at the scene and didn't find anything abnormal."-Shadow replied-"But we did find the injured mob while searching, and now we hope to get them to the infirmary."

"–How did they end up there?"

" -We don't know, ma'am, but they're needs a medical examination right now, so with your permission we'll go!" interrupted Sonic.

The General shook her head "- Quite a strange coincidence, but treatment first. Go." She nodded and continued on her way.

Sonic, on the other hand, headed towards one of the medical rooms, large enough to accommodate him, and equipped enough to save someone's life by a thread.

He had expected the three doctors on duty, who often gathered for tea parties, to be there as usual, bored out of their minds. But this time, to the hedgehog's surprise, only one of the doctors was there. He was leisurely drinking mint tea from a large ceramic mug, and seemed to ignore the fifteen meter tall hedgehog that had entered the room.

Coughing, Sonic turned to him:

"–Hello, Mr. Henry, I need your help--"

"- What, another vitamin refill?" - The medic asked tiredly, sliding out of his chair.

"–Erm, no. Unfortunately, this time it's much more serious." replied Sonic, carefully opening his palm.

Stepping closer, the doctor's eyes widened in surprise.

"-Oh my god, buddy, where did you find them?" he asked animatedly, scrutinizing the sprawled mobian's body.

"- It's... It's a long story. Can you help them, sir?" asked Sonic, while placing his other palm front of Shadow and Tails to lower them to the floor. Once on the ground, the dark hedgehog pulled the child out the door first and shut it tightly.

"–Of course I can. Get 'em in here!"-commanded the doctor, hurrying to the oilcloth-covered couch in the corner of the room. Unfolding it more comfortably, he gestured for the hedgehog to lower the injured person.

Obediently, Sonic held out his hand to Shadow, who in turn carried the mobiam into place.

The doctor, having done the necessary sterilization of his suit bent over them.

"- So, by the looks of it, they've lost a pretty decent amount of blood..." The doctor pulled away from the patient-"-Shadow, I need an IV and a bottle of saline from that cabinet!

..Wonderful, no pulse spikes, but that doesn't bode well either too on the other hand... To keep them safe, I need to see what I'm dealing with-- Sonic!"-he turned to the blue hedgehog-"I don't seem you're comfortable being here. You can leave, this young man will have no trouble helping me."-he nodded toward Shadow, who was dragging a large container of clear liquid from the corner.

"You're probably right, but-" Sonic picked up the heavy bottle from the black hedgehog "-Maybe I could use some help to you both."

"-Then go over to the X-ray machine and stand there."-Mr. Henry concluded, with a snap, pulling up a blue rubber glove.

"- Hmm... Let's see about getting this off them..." - With those words, the medic reached out to the mob's neck, trying to fumble for the lock.

Suddenly, he was hit by a strong blow, causing him to fall back against the wall.

Let's hope everything's okay. Btw, here's Henry:

I know, not great, but I was doing a quick sketch.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic characters #sonic #shadow the hedgehog #my oc #my art #mva au #monsters vs aliens #my fic #sonic fanfic #mva fanfic #mva

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