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rafesfavgirl · 2 months

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i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back, i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart. "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia

#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #sad rafe #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst

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to-the-stars8 · 3 months

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The Waynes' Nanny

Notes: So, this is my oopsy of adding another story to my roster, but oh well. Here's my other note: Just a little side note. To make this story work, I had to de-age the majority of the characters. So, Dick is 15, Cass 10, Jason 9, Tim 7, Duke 6, and Damian 4. Just FYI. Obvi The Nanny Inspired

Bruce Wayne x Reader, Batfamily, platonically, x reader

Summary: One day, after getting fired from your job by your ex, you somehow ended up in Wayne Manor as the family's new nanny. Working with six kids is tough enough, but the handsome, rich, and emotionally confused father, billionaire Bruce Wayne, who is just too charming makes it a bit more difficult as your feelings for him confuse you. Nonetheless, you love the job and the kids, but soon enough you realize that maybe you're falling in love with the boss, too.

Pilot Pt. 1

“You have to be kidding me, fired?” You said shocked, leaning over the counter.

Your boyfriend then quickly added, “And, I’m breaking up with you.”

The words could not come off your lips. Instead, you babbled for a good thirty seconds before just turning on your heel to leave. You stopped a couple of times to say something, but the shock was still settling in. It wasn’t until you were outside, watching people on the street that your senses came back. Turning around, you sucked in a breath and threw open the store door.

You pointed at your ex and loudly announced, “You have a small dick, and I’m collecting unemployment! So, hah!”

Not feeling the victory, but glad that there were more than a dozen people to continue the rumor of your boyfriend’s supposedly small penis, you left.

Luckily, you were quick to find another gig thanks to a family friend. Granted, you hated going door to door trying to sell insurance in Gotham, but it paid you just enough not to be out on the street. This week, however, you were assigned to the other end of the city—The rich part. And, it certainly did live up to your expectations. These people had yards and gardens, and the air even smelled better. If you could only find a rich man, you think you’d be very happy in such a place.

You looked down at the list of addresses your boss had given you before looking back up at the impressive sight of the house. With a sigh, you pressed the buzzer on the gate and went over your script.

“Hello, my name is…”

Before you could finish a British accent came through the buzzer. “Are you here for the nanny position?”

Looking around, you didn’t see a reason as to why you shouldn’t say yes. Absent-mindedly, you said, “I could be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, um, yes! Yes, I am.” It couldn’t hurt

Suddenly, another buzz and the sound was clicking of the gate unlocking. Cautiously, you pushed your way through and you headed up the path to the front door. It was a near quarter mile to get to the house and up a hill. By the time you got up to the front of the house, you were winded and slightly sweaty. At the top of the stairs stood an old man in a suit, looking down at you with indifference. Slowly, you climbed the stairs to him.

“You really gotta warn a girl if she’s gonna take a hike,” You huffed.

“Most people drive,” The old man said, and you recognized the accent from the buzzer.

You snickered at the old man, following him in, and you were amazed by just how wonderful the place was. As you entered, you did a turn, and you were amazed by just how big the house—No, mansion—was.

“Would you like me to present your resume to Mr. Wayne?” Asked the man.

Luckily, you were quick on your feet, “No, I’ll do it myself. Thank you.”

The man relented, giving you a disbelieving look, and went away. You sat down in one of the chairs in the foyer, quickly pulling out some papers to write some type of passable resume. As you were going for a pen, you realized quickly that you didn’t have one. Panicked, you looked around for one.

“Ugh,” A voice said, and a boy no older than seven or eight stumbled from a doorway. On him, fake blood and a knife. He cried, “I’m dying!” before collapsing onto the floor.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a pen, would you?” You asked, but the boy didn’t respond. Defeated, you decided quickly what you said as you saw the old man and a younger, much more handsome return.

“Tim,” The younger man said. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t scare the guests.”

The boy opened his eyes, “I'm studying people's reactions to gore and pain.”

The man rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to you. He held out his hand toward you to shake, you took it and instantly liked the way his grip was strong. “I’m Bruce Wayne—”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve seen you on TV,” You said excitedly. “I loved the black suit you wore for that ceremony in the park last month.”

Mr. Wayne seemed taken aback by the compliment, but thank you anyway. “Just follow me into the kitchen. We can talk more there.” As he started to lead you away, he turned to the boy still lying on the floor. “Tim, go clean up, please.”

“I will, but only because you said please!” The boy cried out.

Mr. Wayne shook his head and asked you not to mind him for now. Smiling, you replied that it was no big deal, kids were going to be kids either way. He seemed to agree with you on that and asked you more about yourself. You told him as much as you could think of, not willing or wanting to hold anything back.

When you finally sat at the kitchen table did you stop talking to let Mr. Wayne talk, but he seemed more pleased to listen. Though, you knew better than to rattle on more than necessary. Maybe, you thought, this was why so many women thought him to be such a charming guy.

“Can I see your resume, then?” He asked.

Laughing nervously, you said, “Oh, uh, well, you see, I lost it on my way over here.”

“Is that right?” Mr. Wayne said, sounding like he didn’t entirely believe you.

“Yes! Yes, it’s the damnedest thing,” You said. “I always seem to have these bouts of terrible luck.”

“Uh-huh,” He said.

You were going to answer when a voice called out, “Dad!”

Just then, two boys, one about fifteen and the other around ten, walked in. They seemed surprised to see you when they entered, glancing at their father before telling you hello. You got up, walking over to the boys and cupping their cheeks.

“My, look how handsome!” You looked over your shoulder at Mr. Wayne. “And those pretty blue eyes! They must get them from you.”

“We’re adopted,” The younger one said. “And I’m Jason.”

You grinned and bent over to look at the boy. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m…”

“You’re the new nanny?” The older boy said.

You started to answer, but Mr. Wayne cut you off. He told the boy, named Richard, that he could be nicer to you. Richard, or Dick as he called himself unfortunately, protested that Bruce was shuffling his responsibilities on some random lady from the inner city. Bruce was quick to dismiss him to his room, stating that they would speak later, and immediately apologized to you.

“A kid makes a smart-ass comment, what’re you gonna do?” You smiled.

“Right,” Bruce cleared his throat, not paying attention to what you were saying. “Well, those two were the oldest boys, I have one girl between them. Then, it’s Tim, Duke, and Damian. My youngest is four.”

“Trying to build a basketball team, Mr. Wayne?” You couldn’t help, but laugh at your joke. He didn’t seem as amused by it, so you quickly went quiet.

“Yes, well, thank you for coming, but I don’t think I’m in the mood to hire sales girls from off the street.”

You rolled your eyes, mumbling that you could do it and that you had plenty of experience in taking care of children as you babysat a lot when you were a teenager. Mr. Wayne didn’t seem to hear anything you said, though, nor the phone ringing off the hook.

“Alfred! Will you get that,” He called, seeming a bit stressed.

“Oh, you cannot be that rich not to answer your phone,” You said, getting up and picking up the phone from the receiver. Putting it to your ear, you answered, “Wayne residence.”

“Give me that,” Mr. Wayne said and snatched the phone from your hand. “Hello?”

He went back and forth with the person on the other line, talking about how he needed a nanny. Yet, he seemed to be getting nowhere. The entire time, you laid yourself in front of him as he tried to talk to the person on the other end to get him a nanny. After a minute or two, he put the receiver down and looked at you.

You grinned, knowing that you got the job. “You’re hired—On a trial basis!”

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Wayne!” You threw yourself at him, squeezing him tight. “You won’t regret it.”

“Right,” Bruce cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have Alfred show you to your room—”

“I get to live here?” You asked excitedly.

Bruce almost smiled, but held it back. “Yes. If you like.”

“If I like,” You laughed like he was joking. “Of course. Oh, it’s going to be great.”

Mr. Wayne nodded, acting like he believed you, but didn’t know for sure. He wondered if he made the right choice not only for his children but for himself as well. Since he only knew you for half an hour, he found himself being intrigued by you.

Despite this, how he felt didn’t matter. All that did matter was if the children liked you and if you were competent enough to look after them. After all, it wasn’t like he was going to fall in love with you.

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batfamily #clark kent #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne #damain al ghul #tim drake #nightwing #robin dc #robin #cassandra cain #duke thomas #bruce wayne is a good father #dc batfam #batfamily shenanigans

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

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cook your way to your man's heart!

Characters: Deuce, Ruggie, Jade, Malleus

Synopsis: In which you decide to cook your guy's favourite food to condition them into liking you. Don't underestimate a person in love!

Tags: fluff, crack, reader is good at cooking, food is used as bribery, bot proofread

Word count: 766

Notes: inspired by this post

Disclaimer: this post is entirely light-hearted and as a PSA, please do not manipulate people.

Masterlist

this man adores you to bits

house-spouse material!!

every time he's so curious to see what you made for him

is it an egg sandwich? a quiche? an omelette? egg rolls?

he'll happily eat all of it, he loves your food!

refuses to share with anyone else unless it’s you

he finds you so endearing and he really appreciates the gesture

he would offer to cook with you or help you wash the dishes

before he knows it, he wants to always be close to you

walks you to school every morning, saves you a seat at lunch, etc.

when you tell him you made him food bc you liked him, he’ll be ecstatic

you put in all that effort for him?? that’s so sweet of you!

he wants to introduce you to his mom and see you two working in the kitchen together, his two most favourite people in the world

"Prefect, thank you so much for making me food!" Deuce says heartily. "Everything tastes amazing, you're so talented! I'm so happy to eat your cooking!"

oh he falls for it so bad

house-spouse material no.2!!

while he's careful with trusting people, he can't deny seeing you makes him so happy and he just can't resist the food

every time he sees you his tail is shaking in excitement

he has half a mind to wonder where you're getting the expenses from to keep making food for him

but hey how could he ever resist donuts?

he's so flattered and wants to repay you somehow

finds more opportunities to spend time with you in his busy schedule

works extra hard to earn thaumarks and get you some gifts

also he's always there for you if you need help

by the time he realises, he's head over heels in love with you

he can't say he minds, you're such a lovely person and you come with great food!

"Wow Prefect, are you trying to bribe me with donuts? I'm not that easy, ya know. Shishishi!" Ruggie laughs, his lips coated in chocolate. "But I gotta say, these donuts are awesome. You really know how to make a guy feel special. Thanks a ton, you're the best," he beams.

he's cautious when you start giving him food withouta good reason

he knows what you're up to fast

what else would you expect from a master manipulator like himself?

he'll play along though, only to enjoy your cooking

he does appreciate the effort you're putting in to make him happy by preparing his favorite food

even though he knows, he still finds himself looking forward to seeing what new dish you might bring

would it be octopus carpaccio? a toasted mushroom and egg sandwich?

he loves everything you make for him

eventually he'll find himself in love with you, but only willfully

by that point he'll start teasing you and play around with your expectations to keep you on your toes

truly a match made in heaven, two scheming dorks in love

but hey, all's fair in the game of love

"Why thank you, Prefect. Your thoughtfulness is truly appreciated," Jade says as he savors another bite. "This octopus carpaccio is quite exquisite. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to impart some of your culinary secrets to me? I would love learning from such a skilled cook." He's smiling but there's a certain glint to his eyes.

happy dragon noises

he's so in love with you omg

he was already interested to you when he met you in ramshackle

but one night you started offering him ice cream?

he's smitten

and you made it by yourself???

lilia's holding him back from marrying you instantly

he’ll find himself visiting you whenever he’s craving food or you

he's so fascinated by how ice cream is made and all the different flavours he can try

insert image of malleus furiously shaking a plastic bag with ice and cream in it

appreciates your determination and hard work in the kitchen so much

it makes him feel so valued and cared for

gives you all of his treasures to woo you and pays for all of the ingredients

and offers to help you in the kitchen, although you should keep a close eye on him if you don't want ramshackle burnt to the ground

Malleus smiles at you contently. "Might I express my sincerest gratitude, prefect? Your efforts to make my favorite food are not unnoticed, and I am deeply appreciative of your kindness," he says. "Your gifts are cherished, and I find myself drawn to your company more and more each day."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland deuce #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland ruggie #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #jade leech #twisted wonderland jade #jade leech x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus

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starsomens · 3 months

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7 • 𝓦𝓮'𝓵𝓵 𝓣𝓻𝔂 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷…

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

warnings: language, kitchen sex, oral sex (female receiving), apology sex,

"Y/N? Dear you've been in here for days, at least come out for Cheri's party!" Your mother stood at the end of your bed. You had been at your parents house for about 3 days already, and each day that passed you've only come out for a shower and maybe some water. You felt awful about not getting Cheri a gift so you made sure to order whatever she had in her shopping cart online as a gift.

"Mmmmmm" you groan into your pillow "can't I just rot here?"

"All because of a break up?" she clicks her tongue and rests her hands on her hips

"It wasn't just a break up!" you sit up "It was...was...ugh!......I just...don't want to see him or another man for the next 10 years" you flop on to your back staring at your dark ceiling.

"Well Cheri is asking for you, so get up," she yanks the covers off your body "Get dressed and come downstairs." she said as she opened the curtains to brighten your dark rooms. Your mother loved and cared for you but at times when you were low she became strict to give you a backbone. But she could have at least been gentle with the lighting.

You sit up in bed and walk over to your dresser as you stretch your arms above your head. Letting them fall to your sides with a deep sigh you stop at your dresser and stare at your reflection. Running your hands over your face and through your messy hair. You looked tired…because you were. You tap the screen of your phone to see another 5 missed calls and of course another 10 messages.

Nah had been trying to get you to come back or at least talk to for consistently.

“Please come back flower” "Let me fix this shit please," “Y/N, I swear to you the contract means nothing” “I didn’t mean what I said to you”

“Come home…please”

Should you hear him out? Some would say yes, but you felt too hurt to do so. You married this man, hated him, talked to him more, some forced proximity, shopping and some great sex and it felt as if it was going good. You would even recall those morning where you’d talk to each other before getting out of bed

“So if you weren’t in all of…this” you gestured to the room as a whole “what would you have done?”

“I’m not sure if I’m honest. Maybe just be a regular ceo of a company…maybe a nice little music store”

“A music store?” You giggled

“Mhm, you meet some great people when you’re there. Besides, I hear pretty girls like guys who can play” he smirks coming closer to your lips

“Would you still have married me in that universe?”

“Well first I gotta get your attention and take you a nice date then meet your parents and find the right ring but yeah….i think I would….”

You brush your hair as you thought back on that morning. That blissful month that felt like a dream. You felt as though you were feeling for someone who didn’t even exist. Worst was it was someone pretending to be them….on top of that what he had said honestly hurt. You walk over to your closet and pull out a casual little back dress with some white trimming and detail. Nothing too flashy, you did some light make up and let your hair fall loose instead.

You grab some of your old earrings that were still left in your room and head for the door. You could hear the music and voices that came from the gardens of your family home. Your heels clack down the steps of the marble staircase. You walk outside and it was a perfect fall day. It was sunny and there was just enough of a cool breeze to keep a nice neutral temperature. You look out into the party and see you sisters enjoying themselves and it made your heart happy to see after so long. Cheri was already 15 and you watched as he smiled and hugged everyone that graced her with a gift. Being the baby of the family of course she was spoiled and was the little princess in the home.

Before you could go out to get into the party you hear the doorbell ring. One of the maids had gone to answer the door before you could offer to go and get it. You walk down the steps into the garden and put on your happy mask to not bring down the mood of the celebration. You walk over to Cheri and lean down to her shoulder

"Is little miss Cherry 5 or 15?" you asked with a smile making her spin around. You would always call her Cherry as a child and you still do, you also have her contact info as Cherry.

"Y/N! You came!" she turned to you and clung to your neck "Laura said you forgot about me and wouldn't come" she gave a slight pout dreading for you to miss her birthday

"Me? Miss your birthday? Not even when you're old and wrinkly" you smile at her causing a laugh to erupt from her chest. Her eyes trail form yours to something behind you. You look over your shoulder and see Noah of all people. He was in casual but still dressy attire. Black slacks, button down white shirt with the first two buttons undone and his black blazer to go with his pants. You whirl around ready to rip him a new one for being there until you brother spoke

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he was trying to hold back on language for the sake of family and friends there. Noah has his hands up as sign of complacency

"Just here for the birthday girl, brought my gift for her alright? Is that so wrong, Matthew" he used his name as if they were on the best of terms

"You know why the fuck you're here you bastard," he said coming closer but you put yourself between them. Noah keeping sharp and cold eye contact with your brother. Matthew looked like he was ready to rip him apart. The day he picked you up, you were in emotional shambles, seeing you so down and out because of him!

"Stop it you two!" you whisper yell at them "Take this inside, and no fighting!" you give them a stern look as the party starts to quiet down

"I think your sister’s right. Let's talk like men" you shoot, Noah a glare, knowing that tone better than anyone in that room. You didn’t have to say anything to him, but he turned on his heel and made his way back into the kitchen. He looked at your brother and asked him to calm down before you both went inside and join Noah. You made sure to close the door behind you as I have some privacy to your conversation. Noah leaned against, a part of the counter as you were on the opposite end doing the same. With your brother standing in the middle, looking as if he was a mediator for you both.

“ first things first. What are you doing here?” You asked straight away.

“you know I wanted to come to you Cheri’s birthday with you, flower-“

“Y/N.” You interrupted and corrected him.

Ouch “…Y/N… I brought the gift for her and it’s right over there. But I also came to talk to you.” Stared deeply into your eyes. Peering into the darkest depths of your soul and heart. It was as if Matthew wasn’t even in the room with you both, but you didn’t want to crack just under his gaze.

“do you know what you did? Will you caused her? The amount of tears I’ve seen her cry because of you… and you just wanna walk in here like some big shot?” Your brother leans on the table, staring at Noah if he was ready to pound over the furniture and strangle him.

“ I know what I did Matthew. But with all respect this is our marriage, not yours. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to my wife alone.”

“I’m not gonna leave her alone with you asshole…” he said, as he strides over to Noah. Despite Noah towering over him by a good couple of inches, he still stood tall with his chest, puffed out, ready to tussle if need be.

You come over and stand between them both once again. You weren’t defending Noah and you weren’t defending your brother but at the same time you couldn’t just let a fire break out in the middle of your kitchen at a birthday party

“ Matthew just go. I’ll talk with him and will be out in a second okay?”

“I am Not gonna leave you alone with some asshole who hurt you. Who knows what he can fucking do while I’m not here!” he argues against your decision

“Some genius you are thinking I’d actually hurt my wife” he scuffs with a shit eating smirk not caring that he may send Matthew into a burning rage

“I’ll if anything happens I’ll call you okay? I’ll be fine…” Matthew squeezes your shoulder with his hand to give you reassurance that if you needed anything, he was just a call away before he turned to leave he made sure to give Noah a look up and down his body ready to rip him a new one. No wait until he was completely out of the kitchen to speak to you. As soon as the door shut, and he was out of say no, it turned to you and it’s as if you were talking to a whole new person.

“You haven’t been home for 3 days and it’s felt like an eternity….” He starts

“ I am home.” You answer as you cross your arms and look out of the “ you know these type of marriages are common. All you needed was an heir, you could have gotten it over with it, and we would have gotten over that hurdle much quicker.”

Noah shakes his head out of your remark

“That’s because it’s not what I want. Don’t you think that if I wanted an heir that badly you would’ve been pregnant by now?” He said stepping closer to you “do you think I would have jumped on that chance the first night we stepped foot into our house?”

He walks closer to you causing you to back up until your butt hits the table. Stopping you in your tracks. Noah stood over you studying your face intently and precisely.

“Come back home with me…” Your eyes broke from his own as if the answer was in writing on the tiled floor. “ What do you want from me? Do you want me on my knees?”

“No i-“ before you can get your whole answer out. Noah is on his knees on your kitchen floor. This feared mafia boss was at your mercy. All you did was leave he could’ve gotten any woman he wanted in the snap of a finger. Yet here he was practically begging you for forgiveness because you weren’t home for three days.

“Noah….. you don’t care about me. You don’t care about a pawn that was part of your contract. And I won’t be any more than just a-“

“No. You’re not just a pawn. You’re not just the contract. You are my wife…” you could feel his hand tracing up the back of your ankle and glide of your calf into the back of your knees. He lives your right knee just a bit. Enough to bring the skin up to his lips and kisses the skin "I really did show up for Cheri's birthday...but I also need you back home Y/N...." he looks up at you from the floor, holding you close him by your legs. His lips kissing your thigh starting from the front and slowly moving tot he inner thigh

“Noah please not here stop,”

“Fuck….i missed your skin so much” he was nearly savoring the flavor along with each kiss “please say you’ll come home with me princess,”

This man was relentless…

“I…..I have conditions…” he looks up at you and rises to his feet

“Any,” he’s already agreeing before you spoke

“1, I need you to explain and explain detail by detail our contract and catches,”

“Done.”

“2….i want transparency of people trying to harm me.” Noah was iffy about that one. He wanted to shield you from the situation completely and totally

“I’m only doing it for your own wellbeing flower,” he said stuffing his hands into his pockets

“I want to know what’s going on when it comes to my life.” Noah think on it for a moment and nods

“Well work on it,”

“And 3…I want another wedding.” Well that one was off from the others

“Why another,” he asks half intrigued

“Our wedding was staged. I didn’t even pick my own dress, or location or venue,” you said beginning to pace up and down the room and stopping at the window “I didn’t even have my friends or extended family there….it didn’t feel special. So if what you say is true,” you turn to him “maybe the wedding can be forgiven with another.”

“Those are your conditions?” He asks coming closer to you

“Yes. And….if they are not met. All of them…I will be back here, permanently” he stops in front of you and takes a hold of your hand

“Whatever my little flower asks for, she shall receive” he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your fingers. He brings it down to slip in your wedding ring again

“You look better with this on you know,” he smirks at you “so what time do you want to leave?”

“You can come and get me tomorrow morning at 10 AM,”

“Not today? Am I still being punished?” He holds a hand over his heart as if you had stabbed him

You simply shrug and smirk. How he missed that smirk, he missed your sassy attitude, the way his clothes would suddenly be mixed with yours, the way you'd ask him to change his outfit so he'd match you.....he missed everything about you

"alright, 10 am it is," he softly smiles at you

"so, what genius gift did you get Cheri? She's very particular so I'm curious of what you cam u-"

"Boquet of lily of the valley, baby's breath and peonies, and the newest release from Gucci in dresses, one in white, pink and blue"

you were speechless. You had mentioned she had a taste for Gucci once and he went ahead and bought he dreses worth thousands of dollars.

"Noah you-"

"Ah," he holds a hand up "I have a gift to deliver to the birthday girl but we are not done" he said walking over to the large birthday bag and starts to walk back to you, his other arm wrapping around your waist quickly kissing your lips with a chuckle and goes back to the party. You stay behind for a while and watch him through the window.

You watch him walk to Cherri and tap her shoulder, he hands her the flowers and the bag. She smiles at him and sets the bag down to sift through it's contents. You watch as her eyes lit up and she pulled the dresses out. She jumps up and down clearly over the moon about her gift. She turns back to Noah and hugs him tightly, you felt your heart warm at the sight. Remembering such a small detail like a brand she likes made her day completely, hell it probably made her year.

In a way you hated how much you loved seeing Cherri get along with Noah. Maybe if this didn't happen, you would like the sight more. You eventually make it back into the party, but kept your distance. You could also feel Mathews eyes burning into the back of your head, but mostly focused on Noah. As the day went on to the sunset Noah had to make his leave.

"I'll walk you to the door" you told him

"Usually it's the-"

"Will you just come Noah?" you turn to him with your arms crossed and a raised eyebrow as you cut him off

"Yes Ma'am," he enjoyed that much more than you expected him to

You walk him to the door and lean against it's frame as you look up at him

"I'll be here, 10 am sharp, princess" he said putting his hands into the pockets of his pants "are you sure you don't want to come home tonight?"

"Very. I can still sleep on my answer you know," you said titling your head at him

"I guess you can, but I hope you don't," as he turns to walk down the steps he turns as if he had forgotten something "Oh an uh, this is yours" he opens his hand expecting yours to land in it. You put your hand in his palm upwards to which he flips and you feel something cold on your finger. It was your ring

"Much better, you look better with the ring on," he smirks as he slyly inches closer to you "I didn't take mine off at all.....since the beginning"

"Oh sure you-"

"I'm serious. Taking it off felt strange and even now I would keep your ring with me at all times. If it wasn't on your hand, I wouldn't want it to be anywhere else." he raised your hand up to his lips and kisses yours fingers longingly "sweet dreams, flower"

The warmth of his hand slips away from yours, and you unfortunately miss the way his hand felt in yours. Your heart, even as you watched him walk away from your home. You were fighting every instinct to run after him and go home.

Home………

Did Noah feel like home to you now? Your arms wrap around your body as you make your way back inside and up to your room again to your solitude. And of course, to think over the decision you had just made. As you walk upstairs, you hear a voice pop up from top step.

“ I thought you would’ve gone with him,” It was your younger sister, sister, Lauren, the third daughter/child in the family “ after everything I just saw, I thought you would’ve jumped in his arms. He would’ve taken you away again.” She chuckles with her arms crossed.

Lauren was always in her own way pick a fight with you. But she was also known as adding wood to the already blazing fire.

“ I am exhausted we can do this another time.” You answer her as you walk past her start walking down the hallway to your room for the night.

“ how do you feel about him?” She suddenly stopping you in your tracks.

“ what do you mean how I feel about him? I don’t feel anything. It’s just a contract, it’s business.” The statement Leaving your lips, hurt to hear and say. although Lauren did find it amusing to pester you at times she did help you to see some clarity by asking you some really annoying questions. Which is why you urged her to be a lawyer.

“Not with the way he was looking at you,” she defends as she walks to you down the hall stopping right in front of you “… same thing goes for the way you were looking at him. If you ask me, I think this might be a little more than just business, maybe even more than just a crush” she had shit to do she pinned.

You could feel your cheeks heating up as your heart, started to pick up against your rib cage.

“Ugh please, today was tiring enough. I don’t need any of your theories in my head.” You said, waving her off as you walk to your bedroom door.

“All I have to say is that I have never seen someone look at another person the way that he looks at you….. just think of your feelings and emotions,” she says quickly before you have a chance to close the door “…. I just want to see you smile again….”

That really did make your heart ache and you stopped at your as he close the door your hiding behind it you give your strong “thank you….goodnight Lauren….”

As soon as the door closed, you could feel your chest ache and way heavy in your body. Your head was spinning in you didn’t know what was happening or how you could solve it. He was a Venus flytrap who had made you comfortable in his sweet nectar, thinking that you were saying. And once you were comfortable enough, he closed his mouth and swallowed you whole.

“I can’t….i don’t……” you couldn’t have possibly felt that way. But Lauren’s words weighed heavy in your head as you think of all those times when you were just look into each other eyes. And your heart and soul longed for it again.

“Oh god…..” you whisper to yourself as you can feel your stomach drop low, and the tears finally cascade down your cheeks “…..I…..I….”

…..

The next morning, you wake up early at around 8 o’clock to hop into the shower and stay there for at least an hour. Both for in everything shower, to kill some time, and to relax from the previous night. You thought long and hard about what Lauren has said, and what you had felt last night. You weren’t willing to give him that soon. Everyone feels lonely at some point, and everyone with a break up in their own way and maybe you were just feeling lonely….right?

You went downstairs into the kitchen to find your mother with a cuppa coffee, sitting alone in the kitchen, asking in the quietness of the morning. She looked at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning honey, do you want some coffee?” You sound down in the chair across from her with a sigh

“Yes please,”

“okay let me hear it,” she says very monotone way as she poured your coffee prepared the way you liked.

“ what do you mean? I-“

“Y/N, I’m your mother. I know when something is wrong and when something is on your mind. You also have the same exact contemplating face as your father. Now, come on tell mommy,”

You sigh as she sits the mug of hot coffee in front of you. You watch as the steam dances into the air in front of you. Thinking on how you'd phrase the words in your head.

"You....you were arranged to dad, right?" you asked already knowing the answer "Did...do you guys love each other? Like....I just don't understand how things could go from being absolute strangers to being in love with.....kids!"

"Well, there are times your father can REALLY push me to the edge. But then I remember the day when we were very young," she sighs looking out into the distance as if the memory was playing right in front of her "It was....about 7 months after our wedding and he had sat me down with him and we discussed some things. First was children,"

You nearly chocked on your coffee hearing her say that

"Children?" you clear your throat and she nods her head

"He asked how I felt about them. I knew I wanted kids and he did as well. Even though we were arranged he said, and I will never forget, 'No matter where you and I stand, whatever children we may have, they will never feel unprotected, unwanted or unloved and if you allow me neither will you'....."

"wow...you...you never spoke about that. And after that what happened?" you asked

"Well, we went on our first date as a couple and a couple months later your brother was on the way" she giggled into her hand "we have been through a lot but there wasn't anything that couldn't be compromised or figured out as long as we talked to one another and listened." she reaches for your hand and could feel them start to become clammy

"I......I felt my heart break the day you left fearing that you'd be miserable for the rest of your life until we somehow got you out but....the day you came back, something was different about you Y/N. I know that look in your eyes, I know what your thoughts are in that head of yours."

You squeeze her hand back "I'm scared mom.....just tell me what I'm supposed to do,"

"You know the answer sweetheart, you just need to figure out and understand it. I know you can do it Y/N, I'm your mother after all" she smiles softly at you. You stand up and so does she as you both embrace in the quietness of the kitchen. His hand rubbing up and down your back bringing back memories of when you were a child after scraping your knee and patching you up. Her scent never changing all these years as you felt like a baby soothed by the mere scent and feel of her mother.

"thank you mom....I love you," you whisper to her

"And I love you mi amor,"

After another hour of just catching up there was a ring of the doorbell. Your mother walks you to the door and bids her goodbyes to you. After she closes the door, you turn to Noah and simply stare at him

"Do I look that bad or good that you're staring?" he asked

"Mmmm like shit, you look like you haven't slept in-"

"I haven't." he cuts you off "I was too excited to bring you home," he offers his hand for you to take. You hesitate at first but soon take it as he takes your bags and walks you down the steps to his car. Helping you into the vehicle, he puts your bags in the trunk and rolls away from your old home soon after.

The drive was calm and quiet, the smell of Noah had crept around you. It was familiar smell, one that would take you back to when you'd be wrapped in his arms as he held you threw the night.

"so how did you sleep?" he asked trying to lighten the energy in the car

"Um fine, kinda weird, a little restless honestly." you admited

"awh, you miss me wrapping around you?" he asked with a soft smile

"with your cold feet? Not even a bit"

"ouch, that hurt to hear princess, I know I would miss your cold feet, because I do" he carefully reached for your hand, inch by inch slipping his own into yours. Once he realized you would let him hold your hand he relaxed and held your hand tighter. As you pull into the driveway you see Vilma outside and she looked SO happy to see you, she had a huge smile on her face. You get out of the car and she pulls you into a hug

"Oh Y/N, please if you ever leave again please take me with you!" she said coming out of the hug

"Was Noah that bad to deal with?" You giggle hugging her back feeling warm by the embrace of an old friend.

"Bad? He'd empty bottles every time he he thought about you. He hadn't played his sad records in years and don't get me started on his moaning,” she went on and you just looked at Noah with an amused look

"Vilma, *ahem* if you don't mind could you please take these upstairs while I show Y/N around?"

"I'll be sure to fill you in later," she winks going to do her task that was asked of her

"Around? I know my way in the house Noah unless, you've got some kind of secret interrogation chamber." you smirk following him up the stairs

"well, not necessarily, just some new decorations is all," he opens the door and let's you step in first, you were greeted by vases of flowers at the entrance. Filled with pale pink roses, Spring crocus and some accents of lily of the valley. The bouquet was beautiful

"Noah these are gorgeous, they give the door a nice touch,"

"oh these? These are just for here, keep going little flower," he nods ahead of you. As you walk further into the home you see every table, and surface possible. You could only gawk at every vase your eye fell upon

“Noah….they’re beautiful I….why?” You ask turning to face him again to find him with a bouquet of roses. They were all white, except for a single red rose that laid in the middle as he stepped closer he said in a hushed but strong voice

“Because you deserve it. Everything you ask of me you deserve. Every woman I’ve come across every person that’s come in my path has NEVER, compared to the person you are Y/N…” hence the single red rose “…I’m sorry. I fucked up, I hurt you and betrayed your trust and I’m sorry…please princess,”

He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles breathing in your scent

“You’ve infatuated and hypnotized me completely. Do you…accept my apology?” He asks looking deeply into your eyes

“Noah…I still stand by what I said” you say firmly

“And I’m willing to meet your conditions when you ask. But for right now….i just want to apologize to you….my wife.”

“…..” you take the bouquet from his hand and set it on one of the tables and wrap your arms around him “….i forgive you Noah…” as soon as the words left your lips Noah’s arms encircle you. Holding you tight and close to his body. Afraid that if he let go, you’d leave again. He breathed you in deeply and oh how his heart raced and ached to smell you again. The way you fit in his arms and body like a perfect mold. The way the weight of body seemed to ground him and settle his troubles

“I’ve missed you….” He admits in a low whisper. You didn’t say it back….but you felt the same way. He sets you back down and kisses your forehead.

“Let me put these in water before I forget.” You said grabbing the bouquet and walking into the kitchen. Start looking for vases in the cupboards and find one that was long enough to support the stems of the flowers. As you fill up the vase with water, Noah watches you from behind. The way you moved so naturally in the kitchen, as if it were a home you had been in for years. That’s what he always wants to see and what he never wanted to let go of again. The way you smiled when you sniffed the flowers was reason enough for him to change his ways. Hell, he would even give up his entire organization if you asked him to.

However, he thinks he would rethink that because he would want to spoil you beyond belief. You smile as you finally situate the flowers in a proper vase and set them in the middle of the dining table and you look back at Noah.

He takes slow strides to you where he keeps you near the table. You hit the edge of the table with Noah leaning in to your, mere inches from your face

"Flower, tell me something," his breath brushing your lips. You hands holding some of your weight behind you on the table

"what..." you whisper back

"did you miss me?" maybe....he said kissing your cheek "dream of me?" at times.....a kiss just in front of your ear and you can't help the chill that runs through your body "Did you reach for me when you slept alone?" yes..

"I...." you swallow hard and gasp as his hand suddenly finds your waist and pulls you close to him, you chest rising and falling as his lips graze your cheek and come back to your lips, Your noses bumping each other

"noah...."

"Y/N....." he closes the aching inches between you in a heated kiss. It was long, hard and full of emotion. His other hand tangles into your hair bringing you even closer than before. His single hand nudges you and helps you to hop on to the table. He slots himself between your legs as he finally parts for a breath of air.

"If you leave me again, I would surely die..." he said against your forehead, planting another kiss

"You're so dramatic," you smile, your eyes half lidded still drunk on his kiss

"Only for you, my little flower" he picks your lips and moves across your cheek down your neck into your shoulder. He kisses along the length of your arm and down to your hand, to kiss each finger. He then leaves a kiss in the center of your palm as he gazes into your eyes.

He never breaks eye contact as he lowers himself onto his knees and kisses the side of your knee. His hands pulling you to the edge, hiking your skirt up to about your waist to expose your panties. He practically burrows his nose in your pussy and takes in a deep Breath.

He growls into the fabric of your panties “fffuck,” he sounded like a beast that was finally feeding for the first time in months. He lays his tongue flat on your pussy shaking his head no, his saliva and your juices soaking the material

“Oh god!” You gasp it had been some time since Noah had even touched you, much less since he had kissed you or "Ah!" the cool wind hits your wet fold as he moves your wet panties to the side. The tip of his nose brushed your swollen clit as his tongue slowly trails his tongue from your entrance, up between your folds and up to bring your clit into his mouth and gently suck on it

"O-oh...shit," you gasp as your hand rakes through his hair bringing him in closer and all he did was let out a muffled chuckle as he ate with more passion

"Mmmmm fuck," he mumbled against you as he lapped and sucked at your heated core

"N-Noah....f-fuck!" you moan feeling your pussy ache and pulse at him

"Mhm....that's right....say my name” he said between laps as you could feel a knot building in your lower stomach

“Mmm….do you…forgive me?….use your words…baby…” he said as he aggressively ate your pussy. A starved man on his knees with his meal being devoured in mere seconds

“Y-yes! Yes Noah! Oh!” You moan out as your voice cracked. This was definitely his way of saying sorry, on his knees, face buried and covered in your juices. Giving you the pleasure you deserved. His tongue swiping over your entrance as you clenched around nothing from his work on your pussy. He know you were close

“cum for me baby......cum...for...me" he said between lap as he sucks on your clit harder. Your moans and pants filling the space of the kitchen as your hips start to buck into his mouth slightly. Your vision goes blurry as your eyes roll back feeling a wave of pleasure wash over you like a wave. With a cry your thigh snap against his head as you lean back on the table, his mouth still helping you to ride out your high. He made sure to lick you clean, swallowing and enjoying every lick that he took

After he was down he kissed your left thigh and looked up at your chest as you try and catch your breath. You sit up on your elbows and look at him, your hair now a mess, giving you the signature "I just had sex look"

"I missed the way you taste," he smiled coming up to your face and kissing your lips, tasting yourself on his lips. He pulls you close to him once again and holds you close

"I'm sorry baby, how about you go and wash up, and we can sit down and talk?" he asked "Or..whatever you wanna do,"

"Yeah...that sounds good," he fixes your skirt and bring you off the table and kisses the side of your head. He lads you upstairs and to the bathroom as if you didn't know where it was. It was as if you had never left. All the things you left in there were still in it's place. If anything it seems as if he had stocked up on some of the things you buy. The lotion you liked, the air freshener, even your preferred size of pads/tampons. He had even kept and replaced your scrub with a new one. It was easy to say the shower was relaxing and enjoyable, you just felt so...at home, so natural.

After your shower, you hoped into your PJs and head outside. There Noah sat in his signature shorts and no shirt. His tattoos on full display. Damn, you forgot how much you loved those.

"Ready?" he asks patting the space next to him

"yeah....I'm ready," you had felt so welcomed and comfortable you nearly forgot what you had agreed to, You sit down and face him read to receive his information

"First and for more, the contract," he really wasn't wasting time here "Yes, it does state we must have a child within the first year. Yes this can get me kicked from the organization, possibly putting us both in danger. On top of that, I knew you wouldn't want kids right away or how you felt about it at all. Which is why I was trying to fight it, and why I sounded so pissed that day you heard the conversation" oh...maybe you should have heard him out that day

"Oh....oh okay, well then I'm sorry for blowing up on you and leave-"

"I'm not done, princess," he interrupts and you shut up and continue to listen

"When you had brought it up and you were packing you had done something to me that no one has. You scared me...." he admits taking a hold of your hand "I don't know what the fuck you did. Maybe you put something in my drink, my food, maybe you just manipulated me. Or maybe you just have a lot of charm" he smirked "...whatever you did, you have made me into someone I didn't recognize. I....I didn't want you to leave, I didn't want you to think I was hurting you when I wasn't and I just snapped that day...."

When he called you so many things, he saw the look on your face and immediately regretted even having a tongue to speak with. This was the woman he had begun to think of constantly when making choices, who prompted him to enhance security, who motivated him to work harder to provide her with everything…

"I never meant a single word that day princess. Not one. I....I...." he held his tongue and scooted closer to you. He looked like he was holding a deep secret that he deeply wanted to tell you but didn't "you.... mean so much more than just a piece of paper with our names on it. I want you here...with me....and I apologize for any tears that eyes shed because of me…."

"You do? You don't mind sharing the bed with a pawn?"

"A princess. I'm sharing my bed, with MY princess." he corrects you.

“So were you really crying like a teenager since I was gone?” You tease him with a smile

“You know I thought I wouldn’t miss that smart ass mouth of yours but, I really did,” he admits

“Good to know,” you said making a mental note. You were glad you got the biggest hurdle dealt with but now came the other matter

"And the people wanting to hurt me?" you asked knowing this was a sensitive and important topic. After all it triggered you leaving for a couple of days

"I'll arrange for Nick and Jolly to stop by to give us a briefing in what's going on and what we've got so far" he offered “for now I just wanted to clear up our fight. Is that alright?”

You nod your head "...okay sounds good," you look down into your lap and think for a moment. You scoot up on to your knees and shift into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist you rest your head into his shoulder and close your eyes as he hugs you back

“Thank you….” You whisper “I forgive you…”

“Of course my princess, anything your heart desires I’ll give.” He says “now what does my little flower want? Hm?”

“Let’s just stay here….for a little bit” you answer not wanting to move.

“Okay course princess,” he carefully lays back on his headboard keeping you in place. You back where you belonged. Not just in the home but in his arms as well.

That night Noah held you just a bit tighter the information you’ll learn tomorrow may scare you off. But for now those thoughts were pushed aside finally feeling you against him once again

“You’ve been eating fruits…” he said randomly

“Huh?”

“You tasted sweeter than usual today,” he said casually “or maybe you were just excited to have me eat you out-ow!” You pinched his back for ruining the moment with his dirty thoughts

“…well maybe I was a little” he smiles knowing it was true. And he planned on having seconds tomorrow morning.

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

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┌─ “ ! „ PSYCHO KILLER

tw slasher!mattsun, final girl!reader, noncon, coercion, size kink, cevix fucking, fear play, blood play, cutting/marking, he uses a knife on reader, degradation, spanking, manhandling, forced cheating, murder mentions, mattsun's giant cock wordcount. 5.6k

a/n. another commission from an anonymous amazing person so make sure to say thank youuu to them!!! this time we got matTSUnnnn and omg this was such a blast to write anD AAHHH i hope you enjoy it and that it fuels your slasher fucker urge a little bit, thank you so so much for commissioning me again and hERe she is!!

You never really thought much about mortality, before. But the flashing lights reflected on the brick walls, red blue, red blue, red blue, and the wailing of the sirens, paint a haunting picture. One that even someone positive, bright-eyed and preppy like you feels down to the bone. You have the displeasure of standing with wide eyes, hands stiff and shaky from the evening chill, as the armed men move people out of the way and the person from the alley towards the ambulance; and though you’re across the street— you can tell.

The way onlookers cover their mouths and gasp and try to unsee as the stretcher passes by them doesn’t paint a promising picture. Your spine feels all flimsy the longer you stand, one hand wrapped frozen around your bag of groceries, apartment only a few blocks away. It’s in the way the senior police officer glances around the blocked off street and tells a passer-by to hurry home or to move along, and the yellow tape keeping the alleyway separate as it trembles rapidly and noisily in the wind. You take a deep breath against the sudden chill that travels all the way down your body, and pick your heels up to walk back.

Back down the opposite way and to the blue lit 24h corner store you left mere minutes ago. The melody of the store chime is comforting, and you speed walk all the way down the aisle back to the register. The charming, delicate features of the young man across from you light up when he properly looks up, and he tilts his head much like a curious animal- one brow raising. “Babe? You’re back?”

“I’m waiting out your shift here,” you softly declare, sneaking back behind the counter where you usually dare steal a few kisses, and dragging out a shitty, plastic chair to rest your head to his hip as he blinks down at you in confusion. Eventually though, Haru just nods, his honey brown hair falling a little further over his brows when he leans down to brush his hand over your head.

“Okay. You alright?” You nod, and he doesn’t ask more— and eventually you two fall back into conversation, only stopping every so often to serve the scarce customer. When you two walk back home in the early hours of the morning, the people have gone, but the yellow tape still stings as you pass the quiet street.

The apartment smells of the cheapest of Chinese takeout when you drag yourself back inside late from work. Your boyfriend just barely peeks his head around the corner to come give you a kiss, gentle as he is, and slides back into his spot behind the stove. “Food’s here, and I’m just making some extra eggs for mine, because I gotta leave in half an hour.” The routine ramble is nice, you suppose, finding a smile on your face by the time you make it into the kitchen with him to wrap your arms around his back, and he hums. “Oh, one of your friends swung by, so I let him in a little bit ago- I left him on the couch.”

Haru’s hands are quick to pull you back when you let go, for just a second, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and one to your nose. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too. I’m gonna go see who needs me- real quick,” you smile, “and then we eat together?”

“Mhm, perfect.”

The door out of the small kitchen leads into the main room, and you look around as you swing your bag over one of the chairs- but find the space strangely vacant. Though a small pout comes to your lips, you just walk along, passing by the desk with stacks of books and lecture notes, to pull open the door to your bedroom. Your house simply isn’t big enough to lose anyone even if you wanted to. The bedroom lights are off, as you step inside, toes curling instinctively into the carpet; before finally clearing your voice. “Hello?”

At the very moment you turn, the tiny door to the bathroom swings open and a tall shape clad in all black steps out— and you jerk with a loud gasp, only to start laughing when your hands meet his chest and you glance up properly. Matsukawa’s dark eyebrows are furrowed in surprise as he finishes drying off his hands, before he gives you a ‘what gives’ sort of look. “You scared me,” you chuckle, as you lean in to give him a hug. “It’s been a while, how are you? And why’d you swing by?” The way he manages to move his arm over your head without having to change positions to throw the paper towel into the trash isn’t lost on you.

“Can’t a guy come see his favorite ethics tutor on a tuesday?” The familiar deep rumble of his voice fills the room, and you make room to trail back to the couch.

“Well, considering I dropped out,” your voice is a little softer when you take a seat in the squeaky chair, “I’d say that it’s probably a waste of your time. But I guess I’m pretty glad to see you again.”

Mattsun plops down on the couch facing you with a little sigh, before that same self assured smile you’ve always known him to have returns. “Don’t make me feel too special, teach.”

“I’m younger than you! It’s not my fault you took ethics again and needed my help.” The banter is nice, reminds you about the hours and hours spent in the library that always grew too rowdy for a study session. Mattsun’s a good friend. A better one than you are, maybe. His long legs stretch out to the coffee table, before he nods.

“This is a nice place. Cozy.” The compliment makes you feel all warm inside. Despite everything, despite the struggles you and Haru have to deal with, the money, the debt- it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it. Even if that someone is the most well accomplished out of your late friend group. “And the boyfriend seems pretty fucking smitten too.” His dark eyes find your face when you smile wider, lacing his hands together over his knee. “Nothing to add? Come on, I missed you so~ much. I haven’t even seen you properly for the last 4 months. Talk to me. You normally don’t hesitate to run your mouth.” He chuckles when you put on a faux-pout.

“Fine, fine, hang on!” you beam after a second of thinking, and roll your eyes. “Let me make a pot of coffee. You jerk.”

“You love it.”

You aren’t the most observant of people, but you swear… you’re losing more shit than normal. Some of the stuffies that were proudly displayed on the shelves are gone, and you can’t find some of your panties no matter how hard you look. And while the small closet in the bedroom is more mess than order, now you can’t even find most of your old photo albums, and some keepsakes from highschool and uni. But with your boyfriend catching his sleep when you leave for work, and you returning late- no one has time to go looking for clothing that’s grown legs, let alone do a thorough clean. So you brush it aside, and move on without your favorite pair of lacy baby blue panties.

It’s only when your boyfriend’s watching the news on his laptop one day, that it tickles something in the back of your brain. As you stuff another bite of pasta into your face, your hands still on top of the unfolded laundry.

A feminine voice flies over the topics at breakneck speed, as the honey brunet suddenly turns up the volume a little and stops eating. “Yesterday, another casualty in a devastating string of murders was found. Passerby’s found the body walking by an alley in Miyagi prefecture at around 9pm. The victim has now been identified to be Kawada Eiko, the 25 year old nurse that was reported missing a few days ago. Strangulation or suffocation are the two current debated causes of death, authorities say. She might have been the unfortunate victim of a lover’s spat, as she was found with blue panties constricting her airways. More about this at 6.”

“Turn that down,” you quickly breathe, and Haru turns over his shoulder with concern in his eyes.

“Oh, sorry. ‘S a bit grim for lunch…” He simply gives you an understanding look, before suddenly turning to knock his knees with yours. “How about you pick something to watch? Here.” His hands reach out to pull you a little closer, and cradle you against his chest. It’s sweet. He always is. And though you nuzzle into his touch, the story doesn’t want to leave your brain. There it is again. That faint flicker of mortality staring you in the face.

The stern face of the police officer- burly, heavy mustache and old- is exactly how you imagine it’d be, made very clear by the dead-like tone and eyes as he gives you an up and down. “This your house?”

“R-rented, yes,” you’re in the pajama-est of clothes from when you pulled open the door, “of me and my boyfriend.” The officer gives a tiny nod to the other two men behind him, and pulls out his badge to present it to you. It’s too early for your brain to function properly, but you still swallow at the sudden severity of the situation. “What’s- the issue, officer?” Your voice sounds even mousier when his eyes narrow in on the scene behind him, and your measly apartment feels even more inferior than usual.

“Sasaki Haru’s been arrested and is currently being questioned for multiple accounts of aggravated assault and first-degree murder. And we have to search the property, young lady.”

You stop breathing.

Murder.

Your head thumps, and you feel a flare of heat bite at your neck, clutching the door handle a little tighter.

Murder, he said. Haru… arrested for murder.

“We’ll have to take you in for questioning as well. Why don’t you walk towards the car and have my colleague escort you—” You focus as hard as you can on the words that are thrown at you, but really, nothing hits. There’s a blanket of static over everything in your vision. You might puke.

“Hey, breathe out. You’re turning blue,” Mattsun’s deep voice washes over you like a wave as you clamp the phone to your chest and try your best to relax a little, a warm, heavy hand softly stroking the area between your shoulders. It’d been a total coincidence that he’d called just as you were done with the hours of terrifying questioning, but as soon as you’d sniffled out that Haru had been arrested, he took time off to come over. Here you are now, hovering between sleep and frightened awareness in the painful, sticky seats of one of the dead waiting halls.

And though you’re glad someone’s here for you, because Haru’s parents haven’t even called yet— you’re also a little too wired up to appreciate the sarcasm and jokey attitude. After another few minutes of nervously fiddling with your phone and staring through the small window at the other doors, Mattsun clears his voice. “So… murder, huh.” His dark eyes are intense as they flutter over your face, eyebrows straightened. “Do you think he did it?”

You find yourself glaring, even though you can’t say why. “No, of course not. He’d never. He’s… he’s so gentle—”

“They’re saying there’s evidence, y’know.” You know that. It makes you want to rip out your hair and sob, because they showed you the proof. The dna, a kitchen knife out of your drawers, traces of the perfume you always, always wear— but you can’t shake the feeling that only if you could talk to Haru, if you could see him, ask… Your intuition tells you he didn’t do it. Couldn’t have. And they’re wrong, they have to be wrong. You would’ve known if you’d been living with a murderer. You would’ve. You just have to wait for an alibi to show it.

“He didn’t do it, Issei,” you softly end up repeating, and Mattsun’s eyes basically roll themselves as he looks away. “I’m telling you, I know him, and he didn’t do it.”

“Maybe- you just don’t know people as well as you think you do, teach,” the brunet places his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth as he leans in as glances over at you. “You’re wonderful, ‘n smart, and kind. But you’re also naïve, baby…” The last word falls deeper, and drags a cold shiver up your spine that only gets more intense when he doesn’t laugh it off, or look away. Luckily though, the door to the waiting room is pushed open that very moment, and a tired looking woman taps her clipboard.

“You can go home for now. Get some rest. And please stay available so that if we need you to return-”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” you start, and wring your sweaty hands together a few times, “what about Haru?”

Her sharp eyes soften a little when finding your face. “He’ll have to stay until they’re done with the investigation. It might be another couple hours, or days. He can’t see anyone until then.” Your dejection must show, because she sighs. “Head home, child. Try to sleep some. You’ll be okay.” You barely manage to have enough energy to get out of the chair, letting Mattsun take your hand and rub a few comforting circles into it with his thumb. And then you’re walking home as he holds the umbrella high above your heads, and that cold only worsens. You don’t feel okay.

It just doesn’t make any sense.

“How about my place instead of yours?” Issei’s more reserved when he asks, laying an arm over your shoulders to pull you into his side a little. “Doubt you wanna hang out there now that the cops have gone through it all.” It doesn’t matter, really, so you nod- let him walk along the crosswalk and steer you down the familiar streets in silence for a while. It really doesn’t make any sense. Haru’s been at work all evenings that the murders happened, there’s security cameras to prove it. And killing someone in broad daylight, alley or not— it doesn’t line up.

Issei squeezes your hand in his when the silence continues, and you briefly look up at him to give him a little smile that doesn’t feel like it reaches. “Sorry I’m so quiet. I’m just…”

“Lost in thought, I get it.” He hums, before pointing at the long line of buildings. “It’s just along there, we’re almost inside. Then we can talk about it, or you can take a load off, or whatever.” The short chuckle is meant to disperse the tension, you know that, but even the tall brunet seems on edge. You’re still holding his hand, and you find yourself blinking at it in quiet confusion. But the thoughts are louder than logic right now. And if Haru didn’t do it, which you will yourself to believe with all your heart —you have no choice but to— how the hell did stuff out of your house get to the scene of the crime. You never lended anyone that knife, and definitely not the even more private stuff—

Issei leads you through the gates into the courtyard of the apartment, then to the door, into the dim staircase all the while softly humming. And you don’t know why your heart sinks as you climb the stairs with him in tow, because the building smells nice, and the walk to the door is clean and high-class. “Tch, you really are,” his low voice barely reaches, and you raise a brow. “Naïve that is.” The humming goes into a soft laugh when you turn to look at him, and the tall man smiles down at you. But though he’s smiling, the hairs on your neck go to stand on end, shoulders squaring. The vivid, unnatural sort of intensity in his eyes rolls your stomach.

And you go to pull your hand out of his, only for Issei to resist the pull harder. “Shh, calm down. I got you, don’t I? Don’t tell me I scare you.” He does, though. “Come on, princess, we’re friends. And friends are there for friends when they need each other. Now you're poor boyfriend's gone.” Your mouth corners turn down into a half pout, half open in confusion. And you don’t know why, you never felt unsafe with him before— but every fiber in your body is screaming at you to run. You want to. But your body refuses to budge, let alone turn your back on him. Issei’s always been a very tall guy. Tall, but wired with athletic muscles from the years of sports, and strong, and fast— and all of these things never scared you.

But they do now. The shivers that roll down your spine are almost painful as you stare up at him and that happy-go-lucky grin still stays on. The corners of your eyes sting when you try again to pull away, to no avail, and Issei’s long legs pull you towards the door of his fancy apartment anyway.

“Issei, let go.” Your voice breaks, and tears creep up in your eyes and your shaky whimper. “This isn’t funny, let me go.”

“Nah ah, I got something to show you.” His casual sing-song response almost makes you angry. But you can’t be when you’re too busy fighting off a full-body panic and planting your heels into the tiled floor. “I got something to show you,” he repeats, glancing over his shoulder again. “Y’see, because I really like you. You make me feel all- hm- good inside.” His curly hair bounces with each step towards the door, before he repositions his grip to hold around your wrist when your sweaty hand almost manages to slip out. “But then you went and got a boyfriend, and disappeared on me.”

He fiddles with the keys for a second as you use your other hand and try to pry your fingers into his painfully tight hold, and frowns. “And I- stop struggling- I don’t blame you. I mean- it’s not like I can even explain this little earworm I’ve got. About how you and I just fit together. I should know better, right?” He’s rambling so fast, and the door manages to be swung open, and you bite back a sob. You want to scream. You want to scream, call out for help, do something other than get pulled in further and further, but it doesn’t work. Your body refuses. Your head’s blank. “I know I should know better. Yet here we are.”

He pulls with his entire body to get you over the doorstep, and grabs your face between his hands to aim it up to his, squishing your cheeks until your lips are a puckered pout. And his deep voice goes low as he whispers. “You didn’t like my little stunt with the panties?”

It short circuits you. Before you get to think about it, you knee him right in the dick with all your might, and push at his face until he jerks back— turning and sprinting back towards the door. But his reach is longer, and he tackles your feet, sending you straight onto your belly with a loud, unforgiving thump as your head knocks against one of the book cases, and his large hands wrap around your ankles. He pulls you back a few feet across the floor, and though you try to kick at him, he’s quick to get above you and restrain you.

”Help!” you squeak, voice more air than actual sound. “Help me!” Issei grabs you by your neck and kicks the door closed with his long legs, before going to sit on top of your back and squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Awww, fuck, babe,” he groans for a long breath, before grabbing your head and pushing it down into the cold floor as if in punishment. The loud knock of your skull against the floor is enough to force your thoughts out of you. “That really hurts, fuck.” Then he shifts, one hard knee in the middle of your back. You can barely breathe, and the little bit of air you do get is obstructed by the tears blurring your vision. “Little kitty’s got claws, huh.”

“Issei,” you start to whimper through your hickuppy breaths when his palm slides down your neck and under the edge of your shirt, “please let me go. We’re friends. We’re friends, right? So let me go home, and I won’t tell anyone.I swear, I won’t- wo- please, please, ‘ssei.”

“Tch, don’t go begging on me yet, baby. I’ve hardly even started.” His large hands roam around your skin for a moment, before he rolls you over like you’re a ragdoll, and grabs your face again as he bends down until your noses are touching. Him, overtop of you, his free hand training down the surface of your thigh through your sweatpants.

His dark eyes glitter in the low light, animated and joyful despite the way you’re trying to calm your wheezes. Which doesn’t really help. The harder you try, the less air you manage to use— Mattsun’s heavy palm sliding to your throat to squeeze the tender skin there. “Hey, guess what.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, before he starts picking anxiously at the stretchy band of your pants, sliding two fingers under it. “you turn me on so much it makes me want to fuck you until you’re raw. But you might’ve guessed that already, right?” There’s a low chuckle, while you’re sniveling under him with wet cheeks and a hot face, before he starts tugging your pants down your thighs.

You cross your arms over your face, and Issei laughs a little harder. “Aww, don’t cry. I know what you’re thinking, all the murdering and stuff, the blood, the choking, cutting open— it’s a lot. But luckily for you… all of that isn’t going to happen to you. Look, here-” he mumbles, pulling your arms away from in front of your eyes to force your smaller hand back in his, linking pinkies, “promise. They weren’t you, so I had to get rid of them sooner rather than later.”

By the time he finishes talking, you’re shivering without your pants, on his cold floor and tears all over your face- and for a moment Issei looks like the guy you knew when he pouts down at you. But then he licks his lips, and the relief is gone. “And you get I can’t let you go after this. So it’ll be easier for both of us if you play along.”

Then he gives you a once over like you’re a slab of meat, and hums, whispering under his breath. “I like when they play along.” It makes you cry harder, but barely any noise manages to come out, staring resolutely at the ceiling as soon as his hand lets your chin go to trail his fingertips along your tits. “So fucking pretty, baby.” The lilt of barely veiled excitement in his voice makes you want to sink into the floor, to just stop breathing altogether. You trusted him implicitly, and- though your skin is covered in goosebumps, it barely sets in that Issei was the one who—

You remember the disemboweled girl on the stretcher, the yellow tape. And bile rises in your throat, so you have to put a hand over your mouth not to throw up. Oh god, you’re… You’re cold on the floor, your tits being gently squeezed by Mattsun’s large, rough hands through your shirt as you try to make your mind go anywhere else, to no avail. Suddenly he gets up on his knees to slide his arms under you, and you start struggling against him enough to make him glare down at you. “Don’t be a brat. If you want me to-”

“Let me go, Issei! Let go, let go!” You’re squished to his chest, but you manage to smack him across the face and get a little bit of wiggle room, and he lets out a low rumble of displeasure, before dragging you further into the house and tossing you down onto the bed. It’s even darker here, smelling faintly of spices and men’s shampoo- but that isn’t what frightens you. It’s the heavy duty cuffs dangling from the metal bedposts, and the way Mattsun grabs a fistful of your hair to yank your head back into the bed.

“Don’t move. Unless you want me to get mad.” The painful tug makes you whimper, but you find yourself trying to slide out the other side of the bed as he bends to search through one of the bedside tables. Your legs are going a bit numb, toes tingly as you dare brush your feet along the floor and make a run for it. Of course, you have to round the bed, and he doesn’t have much of a hard time grabbing the back of your shirt. With one stern move, he swings you over his shoulder, large hand palm landing so hard onto the soft skin of your ass it makes you gasp and tear up. The touch pulses and aches as he slaps the same spot again, and now you’re crying- this time from the stinging of your skin as he tosses you down and forces your hand into sharp, cold handcuff.

His slight frown and the stern look he gives you make your body freeze up, but then he leans in. “You’re a dumb little baby, hm? You don’t get it?” His eyes are wide, pupils dark and blown all the way out to take up almost his entire iris. His hand appears from behind his back with something that glimmers in the low light, and is sharp as he pushes it to your cheek. “Not gonna play along?” The knife’s cold edge next to your ear makes you entirely wooden, staring up at him with shallow breaths and your lips trembling. As he peeks out his tongue, the knife digs deeper and breaks skin on your cheekbone.

And it hurts, clenching your teeth hard as tears spill over, it really fucking hurts. Burns, instantly making the skin feel taut and pounding and irritated. You gasp again, grabbing at his arm with a pitiful cry. “No, no, stop. Stop, please. I’ll play along,” you plead, voice hoarse as you clamp your hand around his wrist. The hot, searing feeling on your cheek and the way you feel blood run along your face and ear takes away all other rational thought. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. You want it to stop. “Please. Please, ‘Ssei, please.” The knife’s edge tingles as it leaves your wound, but the pain doesn’t go away, and you can’t help but sob. “Mattsun~”

However pathetic you must look, Matsukawa clearly doesn’t care. Because he groans, before leaning in to press his tongue to your wound, and then kissing you. And the coppery taste makes him moan into your mouth, while you try to turn your head away instinctively. His tongue forces open your mouth and melts with yours, sloppily claiming your mouth with a soft hum, heavy, large body coming to cover yours. He’s everywhere, as he grinds his hips into your panty-clad center and licks your mixed spit off his lips when he pulls back, throwing his head back.

You’re feeling a bit lightheaded, one cheek pounding painfully as you stare at him, and your one arm slowly but surely going numb from the uncomfortable position. But as you’re looking at him, he quickly rids himself of his shirt, and scoots you up the bed a little to drape your legs over his thighs. Even in the half-dark room, you can see them. The scars on his shoulders, his chest, ugly lines that healed over sloppily— proof that someone dug some nails of a key so sharp into him. Fought, and lost. It only makes you take a deep breath that makes a pinched, little noise. And Mattsun grins, rubbing his one hand along the skin.

“They were never close enough to you, y’know? Always something missing.” His one hand goes back to your chest, playing with your pebbled nipples through the fabric, before the knife returns and he drags it across your chest this time, pressing hard enough to cut your shirt and also the thin skin of your breast bone. “Oops, sorry.” The thin line of dots of blood that beads up has him bending to run his tongue along the little wound again, before ripping the rest of your shirt apart and sucking your tits into his mouth too. The warm mouth paired with the painful stinging and aching of your body has your stomach flipping and your mind blank.

Your free hand runs along his head to grab his curls in support, and his moans before biting one of your nipples. Then he pulls back to slap your tits around a bit, and running his thumb over the wound. Seeing the red before he slips it into his mouth is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut, trying to block everything out. And Issei chuckles. “Aw, scaring my little baby, am I?” The sound of his zipper and the shuffling of fabric lasts for a few seconds. Your heartbeat is so fucking loud, and the stinging is loud, and his voice is loud, and everything is so fuzzy. You open your eyes again, only to find that same disturbing look in Issei’s eyes as he rubs his thumb over the slit of his cock, spreading all the precum around.

There’s a lot, you notice, and also that his heavy, flushed cock is big. Really big, too big, making your breathing even more rapid. It’ll hurt. It’ll hurt, it’ll hurt, it’ll hurt— your mind blanks when he starts peeling off your panties and manhandles your legs around however he wants, before the thick head of his cock is lined up to your too-dry pussy. There’s some wetness there, but not enough. You tear up more, because of the hurt, the pain, the fear, your lungs aching and everything else- and shiver when Issei talks again.

His voice is low enough to shake your bones. “You’ll have to fit me, okay? Okay?” His sing-song teasing has you nodding your head, and he puts on a cheshire-like grin again. “Because when they didn’t, I had to cut them open to make room-” he points the knife into your lower stomach then, point stinging as soon as it touches and digs into your soft belly, “-and I don’t want to cut up my favorite girl.” His thumb rubs lazy circles into the top of your slit, brushing your clit, before he spits on it.

Then he lines up, and starts pushing into your tight, clenched pussy without giving you a second to prepare, placing both hands next to your head and pushing himself into you while each inch fills you up more and more. It’s such a painfully tight fit your legs shake as he pushes you all the way full, and keeps pushing. “Aw, aw, aw, Issei- hurts, that hurts-”

“Uhuh,” he just nods, and kisses you again, smiling into the kiss and pulling back to watch you tear up. He moves one leg to push against your chest, and starts grinding his cock even deeper, pushing you open too much, and you cry— only to make him pull back and do it again, groaning. “Ah, fuck, princess. Fuck-ing- godly pussy, agh.” His huge dick pounds against your cervix every time he pulls back and bottoms out, bulging your stomach in a way that hurts even despite the pleasure. But his body slamming against your pussy each time does feel good, as much as you hate to admit it. It sends tingles down your spine that makes you forget about the hurt you’re feeling. “Tell me it feels good, hm?”

He leans into kiss you again, before turning your face to the side to rub his finger along the bloody mess on your cheek and make it hurt again. “Tell Mattsun senpai that his cock’s your favorite. And I’ll make you come so hard you go cross-eyed.” The pounding of the sticky, warm blood and the skin that aches, the way he fills you, makes you feel it all the way in your throat, how loud your heartbeat is in your head and how your lungs fill only with shallow half-breaths, has you crying out long and hard, squeezing your fingers into his bicep.

“Mattsun senpai~ cock-ahg- hick- my favorite.” You’re not sure you recognize the way your voice sounds as you say it, getting your mouth full of his tongue again as you choke on it and the way he forces his cock through your cervix. Hurts, hurts, feels so good it aches. You can’t tell up from down when his fingers return between your bodies, and he jackhammers his fat cock through you.

“I know, baby. I know. S’all for you now. All yours.”

#mattsun x reader #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa issei #mattsun smut #matsukawa smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.noncon #tw.manhandling #tw.size kink #tw.belly bulge #tw.murder #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.mattsun

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justagalwhowrites · 9 months

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Yearling - Ch. 14: Time

You and Joel go on your first overnight patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-13 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Violence against animals (not thoroughly described); canon-typical violence; canon-typical torture. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 7.4k

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

September 15, 2023

Time.

What you needed was time, that’s it, you had to buy time, enough time for any of it to matter.

Hercules was your largest horse. Your fastest but the hardest to control, the one with the biggest stride, the one you thought it would take more than one shot to take down. So you’d taken him.

Time, you just needed more fucking time.

You whistled and Ruger howled back. You shifted Hercules, going for the sound. She’d have at least some of them in her sights. You pushed the horse faster, harder, feeling his heavy breaths from your position on his back.

He was running full tilt when the gunshot cracked through the air. It was sharp and clear and you could hear the bullet as it passed you. You slung your rifle from over your shoulder and shifted the horse with your legs and body weight, the reins falling to his neck. A bullet whizzed past where your horse had been just a moment before but it was enough to give you an idea of the source and you caught a glimpse of him, a man in forest green and brown but the white of his skin caught your eye. You lifted the gun quickly and shot. He dropped and you whistled again, another howl from Ruger in response. You followed it.

Your dog wasn’t far, tracking a group of about a dozen men from the trees. Her muzzle was bloodied which didn’t surprise you. You’d been tipped off to the attack by her sister, Gattling, running to the cabins with a chunk of flesh dangling from her jaws.

It felt like you hadn’t breathed since then, jumping into action to do everything you could to protect your home, protect what mattered.

But there was only so much you could do against numbers like this. All you could really hope to do was buy time.

“Ruger,” you kept your voice low, the men just 100 feet away through the forest. You doubted you’d even see them if you didn’t know the area, didn’t know how to hunt and stalk through the brush. Her head snapped toward you. “Heel.”

She slid obediently alongside the legs of your horse and you pressed Hercules quietly forward. You turned your horse so you could push him in another direction as soon as your shot was clear, took a deep breath, and fired.

The men reacted quickly, but you were faster, not waiting to see if your shot found its target. staying low on your horse and pushing him back behind the group. They didn’t see you cut around behind them and you were able to line up your shot more freely that time, taking aim at a man toward the center.

“There’s gotta be two!” One yelled as you took off around the other side.

“Nah, just the bitch,” another man said. The leader, you were pretty sure, the man who had showed up at the edge of your land just days before on a horse, asking to trade for more. But he rubbed you the wrong way, the way his eyes ranged over you, his entitlement. You weren’t going to invite him closer to your home, you weren’t going to trade with him.

You hadn’t expected him to come back with this many others.

“She’s a feisty one,” he said. “Ain’t ya, Texas?”

You ground your teeth, lining up for another shot.

“Don’t want us getting any closer to whatever set up you’ve got back there, do ya?” He called, taunting. You pulled the trigger. A man on the end dropped. “You really think you can outlast us? You moved too quick on those first two shots so you’re one in three and I got more men, Baby Doll. We’ll get ya, don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

“Fuck you!” You bit out, shooting another man, not bothering to move this time. The men were changing position, turning to face you, taking cover. You looked down at your dog, still glued to Hercules’ side. “Ruger, Attack.”

She launched forward, a bullet from the gun that was her namesake, snarling and racing for the man who was closest. She hurtled herself against him just as you got off another shot, dropping another man.

The man Ruger attacked screamed and you watched him go down.

“Someone get this fucking dog!” He shrieked.

“Ruger, kill!” You yelled to her, aiming again. But when you pulled the trigger, it jammed. You tried to force it again and again but it wasn’t going.

It was an old gun, you’d had it since the earliest days of the outbreak and it was hardly new then. You weren’t surprised that something had gone wrong. You just wished it had picked any other time. You hadn’t taken your handgun or shot gun. You were down to this and your knife.

You adjusted your hold on the weapon so the butt of the gun was facing out and roared, charging forward on Hercules as you heard the bloody gurgle of Ruger finishing her victim.

“There!” A man yelled, someone finally getting a bead on you through the brush.

“Want her alive!” The man in the lead yelled. “Just shoot the fuckin’ horse!”

You plowed forward anyway, you didn’t have much choice, landing a hit on a man with the butt of your gun, sending him flying with the force of it as you tore past on Hercules.

For half a moment, you wondered if maybe - just maybe - you could pull this off. Their numbers had taken a hit, if you could get through the group, send Ruger after another one or two, draw them to you on your terms…

And the first shot hit Hercules.

His steps stuttered and he let out a pained cry but he kept going as you raised your gun to strike another man. Then another shot caught him, right in the chest near the base of his neck, and his legs buckled, sending you flying forward over his head, tumbling onto the ground.

It only took a second for hands to be on you and you shrieked and kicked and swung blindly with your gun but it was quickly wrested away.

There was a vicious snarl and Ruger tore into the fray, latching her teeth around a man’s forearm. He released you and screamed, the sound earsplitting, followed by the crack of a gunshot and a sharp whimper.

“No!” You shrieked, trying to throw the men off you but they held you in place so you couldn’t even see her, just hear her pained, afraid sounds. “It’s OK, you’re such a good girl, it’s OK…”

The man who had showed up days before prowled forward and grabbed your chin, smirking as he leaned over you. Even in the dim light of the forest at dusk you could see the sickening look on his face. Like you were something he was about to consume.

“You’re even prettier up close,” he said. “Think you’ll be lots of fun.”

“Try it,” you hissed through your teeth. “Bite your fuckin’ dick off.”

“How about you cooperate,” he said. “Or we go see just what it is you’re hiding up at that homestead of yours.”

You just panted for breath glaring at him.

“That’s what I thought.”

You tried to think of how long it had been since Gattling ran up to you, part of a man’s body dangling from her teeth.

You just hoped you’d bought enough time.

August 3, 2026

“You really don’t have anything to be worried about.”

Ellie was perched on a rail as you worked with the last of the feral horses, Artemis. You’d gotten her to dumb broke but she still needed a little time to get her the rest of the way.

“I’m not worried,” you said, guiding Artemis in a zig-zagging pattern through the paddock.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Shut it, kid,” you glared at her. “I’m not.”

“Well, you’re acting fucky,” she said. “From everything I’ve heard about overnight patrols, they’re basically like camping and shit.”

“The fuck do you know about camping?” You asked, bringing the horse back around. “Didn’t you grow up in a QZ as a sad little orphan?”

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes again. She was such a teenager. “I can read, you know, I know what camping was. And everyone who goes on the overnight patrols make them sound fun and shit. Get out of town for a night, be in the woods, maybe shoot an infected or two…”

“Sounds like a blast,” you brought the horse around to her. “Want to give her a go? She’s in a good groove.”

“Hell yeah!”

You dismounted and held the reins while Ellie got situated on her back. You gave her a quick reminder of the ways to guide the horse, telling her she might need a second to respond to commands or something a little firmer than she was used to giving with Shimmer.

“I’ve got it, geez Mom,” she teased. You mockingly mouthed the words back at her as you handed her the reins. You stuck close as she took Artemis around the paddock. “You worry too much.”

“Stop acting like a stupid teenager and I won’t worry,” you replied.

“Hey, I wasn’t even talking about that!” She said, indignant. You’d yelled at her the day before when you’d caught her climbing on the roof of the stable to get a frisbee down for some kids who’d been playing in the street nearby. She’d acted personally offended that you’d had the audacity to think she might break her neck doing shit like that. “I mean, you worry too much about shit like the patrol. I can tell you’re basically freaking the fuck out…”

“Am not!”

“And I’m telling you, you have nothing to worry about,” she said. “It’s cool. We haven’t lost someone on patrol in a long time. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“You realize that I lived, on my own, in the wild, for longer than you’ve been alive, right?” You asked, brows raised. “Watch your legs, you’re relaxing them too much, you need to keep your knees in closer.” She adjusted. “Being outside overnight doesn’t bother me.”

“So what’s got you all fucky?” She asked.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Will you focus on the horse, please? Gonna get yourself hurt because you’re not paying attention.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, skeptical of all of it.

She was right to be. You were freaking out but not about the patrol part. About being outside, alone, with Joel.

Things had felt… different with him since the Simon incident. You’d already been close, already took comfort in sleeping next to him when running down the feral horses, already liked having him close by and liked feeling his hand against your back or at your hip.

But it was different now. It had gone from a comfort to a need. He hadn’t slept over since the night he came back from killing Simon and Ben and you missed him there next to you. It was hard to sleep without him there, your mind kept drifting to what he felt like pressed against you, his hand on your skin. The way you felt when looking at him, wanting to press your lips to his, wanting him to put his hands on you and pull you tight against him.

Part of you wondered if this is what it had always been like when you wanted someone before. It felt bigger now, headier, more dangerous. How much of that was because it was Joel and how much you cared for him? How much of it was the thrill of fear that ran through you when you thought of your body under the control of anyone but yourself?

The fear didn’t seem to dull the hot, throbbing want that was starting to take hold of you the moment you gave it a chance to blossom. You’d try to fall asleep and the image of your hands on Joel’s face, pulling him in to more devour your lips than kiss them as he pulled at your clothes was there, ready and eager. He’d look at you to make some silent comment on something, his brows raised, slight smile on his lips starting to make the edges of his eyes crinkle and you’d feel part of yourself get tight and achy and you were suddenly imagining what it would feel like to have his mouth on your breasts, your stomach, your sex. You had to fight the thoughts away, alarm bells ringing in the one part of your brain that didn’t seem to be drowning in want.

It was easy to picture what you would have done before. Before the outbreak, before Mitchum, before you were who you were now. You’d have gone up to him and made some smart assed remark and asked if he wanted to fuck and he would almost certainly say yes. You’d never had a man turn you down. And then you would fuck him and be at least somewhat sated and you could move on with your life. Or at least have a regular outlet if you weren’t.

But that wasn’t an option. You weren’t sure it would ever be an option with someone like Joel, someone who seemed so capable of swallowing you whole, of taking your entire being into himself and remaking you into something you didn’t recognize anymore. But it really wasn’t an option now. The thought of throwing yourself at him only to panic once his large hands cupped your breasts, the idea of him seeing the brand at your hip and seeing you like property, the notion of someone you cared so deeply for being the cause of that much fear and it tainting one of the only good things you’d found in the last few years.

That was too big a risk.

Your body didn’t seem to understand that.

Being alone, outside, with Joel, nowhere else to go? It was dangerous. It felt dangerous. But you had to do it. You had no reason not to. You’d just have to figure it out.

You didn’t sleep well the night before leaving for patrol, something you were sure was going to bode well. At least you’d be too tired by the time you stopped for the night for anything else to sound even remotely appealing.

“Alright,” you said, riding alongside Joel away from Jackson in the cool morning air. The trees were shrouded in fog, the insects and birds still quiet. “Walk me through it one more time.”

“We have one path out to the ski lodge,” he said. “We check up on anything we find out that way. We’ll probably run into a few infected this time of year but not much else. Should get to the lodge in time for dinner. We spend the night there. Come back to town a different route in the morning.”

“Right,” you said, trying to relax as you sat astride Renaissance. “Easy enough.”

“Specially for a deadeye like you,” Joel teased. “Had to do this route with Tommy before, it’s a wonder we survived.”

You huffed a small laugh.

“You telling me he’s not shooting infected from half a mile off after walking to school up hill both ways through the snow?”

Joel laughed back.

“Afraid not,” he said. “And he has no damn excuse, not with that scope…”

It didn’t take long for you to wonder just what it was you’d been anxious about. It was Joel. Just Joel. Your best friend, the person you trusted more than anyone else, the only person you wanted to be around just about all the time. It was going to be fine.

It was close to ten when you came across a few infected, a group of three. They looked to be recently turned, a man, a woman and someone who couldn’t be any older than Ellie. They looked almost disturbingly human compared to the clickers you usually were taking potshots at. They looked like a family.

Joel sighed heavily.

“Hate ones like this,” he said, lining up his rifle. “We need to clear out the ones who are bitin’ folks like this. You take the man, I’ve got the woman and kid.”

You nodded grimly, taking aim and blowing the head off the man. Joel killed the woman just as she turned to roar and run toward you and she fell, leaving just the kid. He hesitated.

“I can…” you said quietly.

“I got it,” he replied, voice gruff. He took the shot and the girl dropped.

“It’s a mercy,” you said, watching him as he slung his rifle over his shoulder again.

“I know,” he sighed. “Don’t make it any easier shootin’ a kid.”

You looked back toward where you knew the bodies were, part of you wanting to dig graves for the people they’d once been.

You just pressed on, Joel quiet for a while, face drawn. After a while, you started humming Born to Run and he looked at you, smiling just a little.

“What?” You asked.

“Springsteen, huh?”

“Well,” you shrugged. “Tramps like us…”

He smiled a little bigger, seeming a bit more like himself.

You stopped for lunch in the early afternoon, tucked against the thick trunk of a tree, the forest floor cool and calm, the sound of birds and bugs on the air. You leaned against Joel’s side, your legs straight out ahead of you so that your foot drooped onto his shin as you ate a peach, wiping the juice on the back of your wrist.

“Fuck I haven’t been this far out from Jackson like this in so long,” you said, looking out at the plants. Everything was cast in a dappled green hue, the soft light filtering down through the canopy. “It feels… I dunno, different somehow. I’ve done patrol before of course but…”

“I get it,” Joel said after you trailed off. “Kind of like just going for a hike when you lived in the city before.”

“Right,” you said. “Like we’re so disconnected from everything back there. Might as well be another world.”

You pulled the last of the flesh from the pit of the peach with your teeth and sucked your thumb clean.

“I used to just… live like this,” you sighed, shaking your head a little before you dropped it to Joel’s shoulder. “Seems like forever ago.”

He paused for a moment.

“Do you miss it?”

You thought, turning the sticky stone over in your fingers, feeling the ridges of it against your thumb.

“I don’t know,” you said eventually. “There are things about it I miss but what I miss most I could just… pick up and move to Jackson. It’s not like I have to be in the middle of nowhere just…” You sighed. “I do miss being this close to nature sometimes. I was never a city girl. Jackson’s hardly a metropolis but every now and then I look around and think ‘fuck there are a lot of people.’”

Joel was quiet for a bit.

“But you’ve stayed.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but you nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” you said. “I have. I… I like Jackson. The people are good, it’s quiet, I get to work with horses and help people while doing it. I have you.”

You glanced up at him for a moment when you said it but looked forward again quickly, not sure that you wanted to see what he’d think of his inclusion on the list. You threw the pit into the brush.

“I’m glad you stayed,” he said quietly.

“Just because I’m not about to let Ellie get killed by a horse?” You teased a little.

He laughed.

“Doesn’t hurt. But no, definitely not just that.”

You smiled a little when you heard a twig snap. Your head shot up and Joel all but leapt to his feet, tucking you behind him once you were up, too.

Your heartbeat got faster. The patrols that had gone out to investigate the X you’d found on the tree couldn’t track any recent paths. There was no way of knowing if it was raiders or just a person or two passing through, looking for a place to settle. After a few days, they’d given up until there was more to go off of. You’d hoped that there wouldn’t be.

“Joel,” you said quietly, getting your rifle out from Renaissance’s saddle. “Have there been raiders on this route before?”

“Years ago,” he said quietly. “Could be nothin’ but… Stay behind me, let me do the talkin’.”

There was another snap and you were able to locate the sound better than the first time, now that you were on alert and your ears were listening for it.

Joel moved quickly, stepping around you to be between you and the horses you could make out through the trees now. You kept your rifle aimed at the ground and peered around him, watching as the seven men rode up. All middle aged, all large, all armed. They were slow, confident. You adjusted your grip on your rifle and tightened your jaw.

“Somethin’ happens,” Joel said, not looking back at you, his voice low and quiet. “Take a horse, get back to Jackson as quick as you can.”

“Joel…”

“I mean it,” he looked back over his shoulder at you. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll buy you time, get the fuck away from here.”

You leaned around Joel to untie Ares and Renaissance from the tree you’d bound them to, looping their reins over your arm, their large bodies feeling oddly hot at your back.

“Howdy stranger,” the man at the center called out as he approached. “Sure would appreciate you puttin’ that rifle down.”

“Gimme a reason to and I will,” Joel said. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Just a group of friends passin’ through,” the man said. You fought to not go plant yourself next to Joel. You didn’t want to leave him standing alone but you knew that, regardless of how capable you were, if these men saw you as a commodity, you would be a liability. You stayed put. “Haven’t spent much time around these parts, know the area well?”

“Well enough,” Joel said. “There’s a river, about 20 miles east. You’re gonna want to find it, cross it and keep going. It’ll keep you outta trouble.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat for a man outnumber seven to one,” the man’s fake smile was fading.

“Seven to two,” you snapped, unable to stop yourself.

The man stood up a little in his saddle to take a better look at you before he smirked and sat back again.

“Don’t think your little deer there counts as extra muscle,” he said.

“Seven to one, seven to two,” Joel shrugged. “No difference to me. Like those odds either way. Head on over to the river and be on your way and we won’t have any problems here.”

“Seems like there’s plenty of open country for all of us,” he replied. “Unless you’ve got something you’re protectin’.”

“Something besides your little toy of course,” a different man spoke this time, the sound of heavy footfalls as his horse stepped forward. His voice was familiar, in a way that made your stomach turn. You swallowed and peered around Joel. The man leaned over on his horse and looked you up and down. Joel glanced behind him to you and adjusted again, blocking their view.

“Not going to tolerate you talkin’ to her like that,” Joel said, his voice strained and rough. “We’ve been around this area for a while. It’s ours. We decide if there’s enough room and there’s not. Move. Along.”

“You look familiar,” the second man said, adjusting his horse again and you could just see him, frowning down at you. You narrowed your eyes, heart pounding, praying to a god you didn’t believe in that he couldn’t place you.

“Last chance,” Joel growled.

The man’s face shifted, from questioning to recognition. For just a moment, it felt like you were going to throw up.

“I know you,” he said, smirking. “You’re Mitchum’s favorite doll! Oh, he’s been looking for you…”

“Shut up,” you hissed, teeth clenched. You dropped the reins and raised your rifle, stepping around Joel to get a clear shot. You fought to keep your breathing under control, to keep from devolving into the anger that was licking its way through your veins and trying to swallow you whole.

“She as good for you as she was for me?” He asked Joel with a laugh. He didn’t wait for a response. “Mitchum’s been looking everywhere for you. Bet he’d let me have another go if I brought you back…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Your finger moved to the trigger, but the man in the middle of the group rode up in between the two of you.

“Now now,” he said calmly. “No need for any bloodshed…” He turned his attention back to Joel. “Sure you didn’t mean nothin’ by it, but it sounds like your little… friend here belongs to someone else. We’ll take her back with us and…”

Joel shot before the man even finished speaking, the bullet catching him in the chest and sending him slumping over and off his horse with a thud.

The group was still and silent and you gaped at Joel, your gun still pointed in the direction of the man you recognized.

Joel turned his gun to the next man closest to the middle.

“She ain’t property,” he said. “I got no problems killing every last one of you. Could use the practice. Get the fuck out or I’ll kill you. Last chance.”

You looked back at the men, your rifle up, as they looked between each other, weighing their chances.

The one you recognized’s hand drifted to his side arm before he spoke.

“Think we’ll take the doll and be on our way.”

He started moving just as you fired and your shot went wide, hitting the man on the other side of him. Joel shot, too, before screaming at you to run.

You weren’t going to listen. At least, not at first. Joel threw you behind a tree and followed before he fired again, his shot making contact this time and dropping another man, already moving another bullet into the chamber.

The man you recognized seemed to change his mind about coming for you, instead turning his horse and starting to take off in the opposite direction.

You weren’t about to let him.

You shoved the rifle back into its spot on your saddle and jumped onto Renaissance, urging her almost immediately into a gallup to run down the man.

He had a decent enough head start and, when you were getting close to him again, you could barely hear the commotion behind you, just the crack of gunshots.

Catching him was going to be tricky. He was riding fast, looking back over his shoulder at you, pushing his horse. There wasn’t a clear route to him, you were having to guide the horse through it all while trying to keep pace. You tried to not let your rage be the only thing driving you, tried to let your logical mind take hold again.

If you took advantage of a sloping hill you thought was ahead, you’d be able to gain some ground on him. You split off from him and pushed Renaissance toward where you remembered the gentle slope down to be before it got steeper later on, something he’d have to slow up on.

You were right and you could hear him, not far away, the thundering hooves and the gasping breaths, even though you couldn’t quite see him through the thick of the forest. It was quiet behind you now and you tried not to think about what that might mean. You had to stop this man. If he knew where you were, he’d get more men and come after you. If Mitchum really wanted you back that bad, he’d come for you.

You weren’t going to let him take you, not again.

You broke through the trees, just feet behind him now instead of yards and he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide. He started fumbling for the gun at his waist but you pulled up alongside him and did the only thing you could really think to do. You jumped, leaping from the back of your horse and into him, slamming into him with all your weight and knocking him out of the saddle, both of you careening toward the earth until you landed with a heavy thud, the two of you tumbling through the undergrowth until you stopped, him awkwardly on top of you.

He smiled, eyes dark, down at you.

“So eager to come back home,” he panted. “Don’t think he’ll mind if I take my payment upfront…”

You roared and thrashed below his weight and he punched you across the face.

“Think your guard dog’s dead,” he said. “Not so tough are you now, baby doll?”

He leaned in close to you, so close that you could smell his breath and you slammed your head into his nose. You felt it collapse below your forehead and he yelped and instinctively jerked back from you, his hands clutching his face.

It was enough.

You wrenched your body over and he collapsed to the ground, still clutching his face as you all but jumped on top of him. You sat on his chest, ripping his hands back from his face and pinning his arms beneath your legs before you punched him the same way he punched you. He groaned and you smiled.

“Still think I’m good for you?” You could taste blood in your mouth as you panted for breath. You dug your nails into his cheeks until you felt his skin give and he shrieked and thrashed but your position was too solid, he couldn’t shake you, had no hope of reaching the most vulnerable parts of you as you dragged your fingertips through his flesh, leaving trails of red in their wake. “Am I your baby doll now? Huh?”

You pulled your hands from him, his skin below your nails, and wrapped your fingers around his throat, squeezing as his eyes went wide.

“Still think I feel good?” You couldn’t get your breathing to slow down but you didn’t care, your heart pounding against your ribs. “I remember you, you fuck, I remember all of you. Not so tough now that I’m not chained to a wall are you?”

His hands scratched uselessly against your upper arms, legs flailing behind you. He was gasping for breath, reminding you of a fish on a dock. His eyes were just as wide, his motions just as desperate, his being just as powerless.

“Bambi,” Joel’s hand appeared on your back, making you jump, loosening your grip on the man and he gasped for breath, sucking in air like a drowning man. You looked back at him, breathing heavy. Ares was at his side, you hadn’t even heard them approach. “Need you to stop.”

“Why,” you demanded, eyes narrowed, teeth clenched.

“Need information from him,” he said, kneeling beside you, his voice calm and even. You looked him up and down. He didn’t look hurt. “He’s the last one alive. Just need a few answers, then you can decide what happens to him.”

You looked at Joel for a moment, his eyes soft and open.

“Bambi,” he said quietly.

“Fine,” you snapped and Joel’s hand traveled down your back to your waist, guiding you off the man as he panted for breath.

“Help…” the man managed weakly, reaching for Joel, but Joel’s hand shot out, snatching his wrist out of the air. His large hands wrapped around the other man’s arm and he twisted until you heard a snap. The man screamed.

“Not here to help you,” Joel said, his voice almost eerily calm, so calm it sent a chill down your spine. “I’m here to get information and there’s only one way I know how to do it. You’re gonna want me to give you back to her by the time I’m done. So let’s begin.”

***

Joel dragged the man by his hair to a nearby tree and sat him up before he broke his other arm, too, just to be safe. He didn’t want to waste time tying him up but you knew he couldn’t throw many punches with a broken arm.

This wasn’t a part of himself he’d ever wanted you to see. It wasn’t a part of himself he was particularly fond of. Not of his willingness to do it to begin with, not of his skills, not of the way he picked it up to begin with.

But it was effective. And the important thing was keeping you safe.

Seeing you take off on Renaissance like that scared the shit out of him. Because of course you didn’t take off in the direction they’d been heading or even, really, back toward Jackson. No, you’d taken off after a fleeing man.

A man who said he knew you, who obviously horrified you.

Joel was desperate to get to you then. The way that man talked about you… he was not going to let him get his hands on you. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to protect you from him.

Thankfully, you were relatively easy to find. The man’s screams weren’t exactly quiet and he was able to find you quickly once he’d taken out the rest of the crew, leaving them dead on the forest floor.

“Look,” the man panted. “I don’t have to take her with me, alright? If you’re attached…”

“How many of you are there?” Joel cut him off. He wasn’t going to be able to get any answers out of this man if he heard him talk about you like you were nothing but an object, something to be owned and controlled. He’d kill him too fast.

“What?” He frowned and then winced, the bloody paths you’d cut into his face pulling and oozing.

“How many men,” Joel asked.

“I don’t…”

Joel sighed and freed his knife, thrusting it into the side of the man’s thigh. He screamed, so loud birds took off from nearby trees. Joel gave him a moment to catch his breath before he asked again.

“How. Many. Men.”

“About fifty,” he said quickly. “But miles from here, two days ride at least, we were sent out this way to scout…”

“Anyone else sent this way to scout?” Joel asked.

The man just looked at him, panting for breath. Joel twisted the knife in his leg and he screamed.

“Any. One. Else?” He demanded again.

“No one!” He said.

“How long was your team supposed to be gone?” He asked. The man hesitated and Joel pressed on the knife.

“Fuck, please! You can keep her, alright? I won’t eve tell Mitchum I found her, you can have her…”

Joel punched him across the face, his knuckles connecting with the cuts you’d made in his skin.

“Jesus Christ!” He managed as he gasped for breath. “Please…”

“Never understood why men like you think you’re gonna get mercy,” Joel said, grabbing his hair. “God washed his hands of your kind a while ago. I’m what comes for you instead and I don’t know mercy. So tell me, how long were you supposed to be gone?”

“A week!” He said quickly. “A week, we’re three days in and they won’t come looking for us if we all disappear, they’ll think we got infected or something, I promise…”

“What were you looking for?” Joel asked. “Lookin’ for her?”

“No,” the man panted and shook his head, wincing as he did. “No, we were looking for a new place to set up, maybe for the winter, I just know Mitchum’s been looking for her and offering…”

Joel cut him off.

“He have any idea where she is?”

“No,” he shook his head, quickly this time. “No, he has no idea, I swear he doesn’t know and I swear I won’t say anything, I promise I won’t…”

Joel laughed once, darkly.

“You’re not leavin’ here,” he said, ripping his knife from his leg. He actually looked surprised at that as Joel wiped the blood on the man’s jeans. “Told you, wasn’t here to help you.”

Joel looked around until he found you sitting against a tree, your legs pulled tightly to your chest. He looked back to the man for a moment. His legs were too intact. He stood and, for a moment, the man looked relieved. And then Joel brought all his weight down on the man’s shin, stomping on it, the bone snapping as the man screamed.

Satisfied, Joel went to you, sheathing the knife. Your eyes were wide and doe-like, afraid and watchful. He approached you slowly, keeping his hands where you could see them before he knelt a few feet away from you.

“Bambi,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm and even. “I’ve gotten what I need from him. You can have him now if you want him. He can’t leave here alive but how he dies is up to you.”

You nodded, pulling your eyes from Joel’s to look at the man. Joel glanced at his bleeding form, whimpering on the ground, before focusing on you.

“You’ve killed before,” Joel said.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Did it satisfy you?”

You stared into space for a moment, a dazed look on your face.

“No,” you said eventually, shaking your head. “I wanted it to but…”

“Did you like it?”

“No,” that you answered quickly. “No, it made me sick, I don’t…”

“Then tell me how you want him to die,” Joel cut you off. “And I’ll do it.”

“I want it to hurt,” your voice cracked. “I want him to fucking feel it.”

“OK,” Joel said gently.

“And I want to watch.”

“OK,” he said again, straightening up and offering you his hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet. There was a cut at your cheek and he slowly, gently, reached his hand out and held your face, his palm curving over your wound. You closed your eyes and breathed deep, your hand covering his and holding it to you. “Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s finish this.”

He held your hand as the two of you went back to the man, who was still breathing heavily, still crying in pain.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “Please, I….”

“You hurt her once,” Joel cut him off. “She decides what happens to you now. And she said she wants it to hurt.”

He released your hand and freed his knife again.

“No,” the man shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean…”

He didn’t finish begging, Joel thrusting the blade deep into the man’s gut and he screamed. He twisted it before pulling it back out, looking up at you.

“Short or long?” He asked.

You looked at the man, examining him.

“Short,” you said after a moment. “I want to get the fuck out of here.”

Joel plunged the knife between the man’s ribs then, piercing a lung, and pulled it out before wiping it on the man’s clothes and sheathing it. He straightened up and stood beside you as you watched the man drown in his own blood, a cold and detached look on your face. After a few minutes, he was still and you were still watching him.

“Sweetheart,” Joel said softly, his hand delicately on your back.

You spat on the man’s body.

“Let’s go.”

***

Joel was right, you weren’t too far from the ski lodge. He helped you clean the blood from your face and quickly found Renaissance - who hadn’t gone far - before getting underway again. It only took another two hours to get there, much faster than going back to Jackson.

But there was the hot clutch of fear in you now, threatening to strangle you from the inside out, the tendrils of it reaching and threatening to take control. By the time you reached the ski lodge, you could hardly breathe. You jumped off Renaissance and Joel dismounted Ares, frowning as he came to your side. Your hand went to your chest, your neck.

“I can’t…” you managed, the first words you’d said in hours, fighting to get enough air to keep talking. Your heart was racing. “What’s happening? I… I can’t…”

“It’s OK,” Joel said, guiding you to a fallen tree and pulling you down onto it next to him. “Think you’re havin’ a panic attack, Sweetheart, you’re gonna be OK. Just gotta breathe deep, you’re OK. I’m going to touch you, alright?”

You nodded quickly and he delicately pulled you against him, his arms going around you, close enough that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

“Try to focus on my breathing,” he said gently. “Try to match it, OK?”

You closed your eyes and nodded as he took a deep, slow breath in and you tried to do the same. He held it for a moment before breathing out just as slowly and starting again.

“You’re OK,” he said gently. “You’re OK, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, you’re safe, you’re OK.”

You focused on his words, the sound of his voice, the feel of his breathing as you matched it to your own. After what felt like a small eternity, you felt like you could take a normal breath again, your heart no longer threatening to pound its way out of your chest.

Some part of you was still afraid. Afraid of how close you were to Joel, of how violent you’d just seen him be - violence you never would have thought him capable of if you hadn’t seen it yourself. Afraid of how out of control these feelings you had for him could be.

But that part of you was smaller than ever, a quiet whisper against the overwhelming sense of warmth and longing that you’d come to associate with Joel. He was so close to you then, he’d pulled you almost onto his lap, your legs draped over his thighs, your head tucked against his chest. In spite of everything that had happened that day, in spite of the fact that he was so big and strong that he could hurt you without even really trying, in spite of that part of you telling you that being this close to anyone was a danger, you felt safer than you had in years.

You pressed yourself closer to him, your nose buried in his neck.

“See Bambi?” He said gently, pulling away from you ever so slightly to look down at you. “You’re alright.”

He was so handsome. Maybe you just hadn’t seen enough people over the last 20 years but Joel was easily one of the most beautiful human beings you’d ever seen and he smelled like safety and home and you couldn’t help but reach your hand up to his cheek, your fingers dipping ever so slightly into his hairline.

“Joel,” you said softly.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, his eyes searching your own. Your grip on him strengthened and you gently, slowly, tugged his face toward yours.

You couldn’t help it. It was something that was inevitable. Some part of it feeling like it was always meant to happen, like you’d been moving all your life toward specific points of time and this was one of them, a moment that was built into your genetic code.

You were always going to kiss Joel Miller. You’d been running toward it your whole life. There was no reason to deny it.

So you didn’t.

You kissed him then, his lips soft and gentle and warm on yours, his hands spreading wide over you to delicately, carefully, pull you closer.

And you knew, in that moment, your life would never be the same.

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THEY KISSED Y'ALL

FINALLY

IT ONLY TOOK 14 CHAPTERS OF WHAT WILL - EVENTUALLY I SWEAR - BE A FIC THAT HAS SMUT THEY KISSED.

I'M GONNA DIE!

Thank you thank you thank you for riding out this slow burn with me! I hope this felt right for these characters for you the way it did for me.

I do have an updates blog. Follow and subscribe for post alerts to get an alert whenever I post a new chapter! I promise I won't spam ya!

Thank you for reading and for interacting and for being here. I'm so behind on replying to comments but know that I've read them (they're some of my favorite pick-me-ups during my work day!) and I so appreciate them and I'll be getting caught up soon. I love you all so very much, thank you for making sharing this story so fun!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #yearling #joel miller x oc #slow burn

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

girls just wanna have fun 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, blackmail, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re struggle to push back against your controlling father result in a misguided crush. (Silverfox AU)

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

You don’t like to think of yourself as sweaty, you’re glistening. You keep a light jog, just enough to get your heart pumping. And bouncing. Your sports bra is less than secure but you don’t mind.

Running’s another new hobby. It’s a reason to get out of the house when your dad’s being a drag. And a reason to scope out the neighbour. As you turn the corner onto your street, you slow down, coming in sight of Bucky’s yard. Disappointment washes over you as you get closer. He’s usually out by now.

“Goddammnit,” you hear him curse as he appears from beside the house, his tee shirt soaked in water, “fucking hose.”

You stop by the fence and watch him strip away the drenched shirt. He tosses it in anger, his muscles rippling under his skin, and scowls as his hands frame his wide hips. You gulp as your mouth dries out. Wowee.

He looks over as you hover near his gate. You cough and shake your head, “everything alright, Mr. Barnes?” You ask, keeping your voice perky.

“Uh, yeah,” he shakes his head slightly, “yeah, just damn thing split.”

He huffs and closes his eyes, tilting his head up to the shining sun. It’s almost as if he’s trying to match you, tempting you to do something. Your cheeks burn from more than the summer heat. You hum in sympathy.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Well, I’m sure if you really need a hose, you could stretch ours over the fence.”

“Yeah, your dad wouldn’t have an aneurysm?” He scoffs and opens his eyes, narrow those baby blues in your direction.

You step back on your heel and shrug, shuffling your feet as you run in place, “I don’t know, Mr. Barnes. Just being nice.” You turn and keep bouncing looking ahead, “gotta finish my run.”

“It’s Bucky,” he calls after you as your soles pound the sidewalk. You puff out, smiling. Bucky.

You circle the block again and come up once more to your neighbour’s walk. Again, you keep a look out for him. There’s another car in the lot. You recognise it. His annoying friend is there. The one who used to tease you about your school uniform.

You roll your eyes and turn your sights forward, only to collide with someone else. Just the person you were dreading. You stutter step back, panting heavily, chest rising and falling heavily. You don’t miss how the man’s eyes peek down before meeting your own. You don’t mind being on display, just not for him.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Wilson,” you cross your arms and he clears his throat. Ugh, gross. You drop your arms, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s just fine, sugar,” he smirks, “don’t mind running into a pretty girl like you.”

Ew. You could barf. It takes all your manners not to gag at him.

“Right, um, well, I should just--”

“Hey, Sam,” Bucky’s voice draws your attention from your half-baked excuse, “Corona okay? I don’t got any Heineken right now.”

“Corona? What are you? A coed? Why don’t you toss it to this little beam of sunshine?” He nudges you and you inch away.

“I got a free case. You really gonna be picky,” Bucky challenges as he comes up to the fence and holds the beer over it. “She’s too young.”

“I drink,” you lie. To be honest, you don’t. You tried a single vodka and orange soda in high school and vomited in your shoe. “You know, college.”

“Yeah, college,” Sam winks at you, “she’s really grown up, Buck.”

You glance over as his brows raise coyly and he glances over at you, the tip of his tongue poking out. You flutter your lashes and refocus on Bucky. You shrug.

“Obviously, I’m just playing around. I’m a good girl, Mr. Barnes,” you smile.

Sam purrs, just loud enough for you to hear. You repress the furrow that threatens to wrinkle your nose. You have to stay pretty for Bucky.

“I’m just fine. Dad’s got some Bud in the garage.”

“Bud, huh, you like toilet water?” Sam chides.

Your lips draw tight and you spin on your heel, “anyways, I’m going to go stretch.”

You skip down the sidewalk and through your own gate. You hear Sam chuckle, “you doing it out here, sugar? Where we can see? You know, I got a bad back, could use a few pointers.”

You just shake your head as you wave dismissively and head inside. He has to ruin everything. You don’t get why Bucky is friends with him. They have their little poker nights and all you ever hear in exchange are snipes. Do they even like each other?

You enter the house and fill a large glass of water from the fridge filter. You gulp it down, parched from more than your run. Mm, just the thought of Bucky with his shirt off, the little coils of gray hair, and the way his muscles were just perfectly lined with that extra later of pudge. The kind a man ages into.

“There you are,” your dad appears as if out of thin air, “what the hell are you wearing?”

“Love you too,” you face him as you put the glass down.

“Were you outside like that?”

You look down at your bicycle shorts and bra.

“I was exercising,” you snip.

“You can wear a shirt next time,” he sneers. “You’re supposed to clean the pool.”

“I got time,” you argue.

He sighs as he opens the fridge. He takes out his carton of egg whites and plops it down on the counter. He takes out turkey bacon as well. He swings the door shut and turns, silent as he readies his late breakfast.

“What are you talking to Barnes for?” He asks curtly as he puts a pan on the stove. You grab your glass again.

“Was being friendly, that’s all,” your heart deflates. Fun’s over.

“Mm, and he’s friendly? He knows how to be?”

“Ugh, whatever’s between you has nothing to do with me,” you rebuff, “he’s nice.”

“Sure,” he sniffs doubtfully, “he’s a bitter old bastard.”

You’re one to talk. You don’t put the quip to voice, instead draining what’s left of the water. You turn and rinse the glass and put it in the dishwasher.

“If I clean the pool, can Shelby come over?”

“Shelby? What, so you can blast those video games again?”

“No, so we can swim,” you say. “Duh.”

“Duh,” he mimics in a whiny voice. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Well, can I? Please?” You soften your tone, “I’m so bored.”

“Mm, fine. No more wet towels on the lawn though.”

“Yes, sir, will do, sir.”

“And cut the attitude,” he warns as he peels bacon strips from the package, “and put a shirt on.”

You spin and stomp away. You take your slides from the front mat and carry them to the back door. You’re not putting a shirt on, you’re going to be cleaning the pool. There’s no point in that.

You go out and grab the net, extending it long. You lazily skim the water. It doesn’t really need a cleaning. It’s still sparkling and clear.

As you stare into the blue depths, the shadow of the leaves above rustle over you. You glance up and over to the disturbance. You see a head poking over the top and nearly shriek. It’s Sam, watching you.

“Ew, what are you doing, perv?” You accuse.

“There’s tree rot up here,” he points to the trunk, “told Buck I’d take care of it. Let his old knees have a rest.”

You frown and turn back to the pool. You know he’s watching you. You feel the weight of his gaze. The same sensation you long for when you pass by Bucky.

“And the view is nice,” he slithers, “you might wanna reach a bit... right there. Little leaf,” he points over the fence, “bend just a little bit, sugar. Arch that back.”

You can’t believe what he’s saying. You retract the pole and turn to scowl at him, “you’re gross.”

“Ah, come on, don’t act so innocent with me? What happened to the plaid skirt and those cute little stockings?”

You glare at him, “I’m an adult.”

“Sure are,” he agrees.

“What do you want?” You snarl, “I’m busy.”

He grins and leans on the fence. He tilts his head and bats his lashes, “’oh, Mr. Barnes, I’m a good girl. I would never drink your beer. But yes, I’ll sit in your lap, show you what a good girl does’,” he mocks as he pretends to fix hair longer than his trimmed style.

“Well, happy to see one of us is grown,” you retort.

“Ah, sugar, you can’t deny it. I see right through you. You weren’t wagging that ass for me but you will,” he eyes you up and down and licks his lips, “you want a bite of Bucky, I can get you it. There’s just one catch,” he pulls back slightly and looks down, “and it’s hard and throbbing.”

You’re stunned. Speechless. Blistering at being caught in your pathetic flirtations but worse, being called out so crassly.

You recoil and turn back to the pool. You’re not really considering his offer. As much as you dream about Bucky, and touch yourself, and cum about him, it’s just no, you can’t. It’s a fantasy, nothing else. That’s all it can be.

Besides, you wouldn’t know what to do. It’s all so much easier in your head.

“That’s okay, you take your time,” he slaps the fence, “I got work to do. But first,” he puts an arm over the wood, “think I’ll watch you do yours.”

#bucky barnes #sam wilson #dark bucky barnes #dark sam wilson #dark!bucky barnes #dark!sam wilson #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #series #drabble #au #silverfox au #girls just wanna have fun #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #falcon and the winter soldier

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

Text

strawberries

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!Reader

Summary: Jake's in love with the girl across the street, the one who always brings him fresh fruit from her family's farm before every deployment. He finally confesses in the form of a letter.

wc: 3.4k

“Clara, my dear, what do you have for us today?” Jake smoothly asked as he joined the long line of men and women in the mess deck. The older woman looked at the tanned blond and his friend beside him like they were the last people she wanted to see, well at least Jake was. He smirked and twirled his toothpick in his mouth, making her narrow her eyes more in displeasure.

“Same as always boys,” she sighed, dramatically pointing to the array of off-colored food. Jake and Javy grimaced at it, silently questioning if it was edible.

“I got an MRE in my back pocket we can share,” Javy snickered quietly. Jake looked at him and flashed a smile, slapping him backhandedly on the chest.

“You don’t eat my food, you don’t eat at all,” she scolded, waving her dripping red ladle. “There’s a surprise for you.”

Jake’s eyes followed the drops of transparent red until they stopped at a metal tin of strawberries. His eyes softened, his expression falling. This was a rare moment that Jake slipped out of the Hangman persona, Jake Seresin slipped into a memory—a beautiful memory about the girl who lived on the farm across the dusty dirt road.

While the Seresin’s were known for their horses, the Y/L/N’s were known for the fruit grown on their lush farm. You once claimed Jake was only your friend because you brought him and his family the freshest fruit from the harvest. Jake was friends with you because you were one of the only people who could deal it as well as you could take it; you never put up with his shit. It was that and the fact that Jake Seresin was utterly head over heels in love with you.

“We gotta get to the airport man, I’m not looking for a court marshall,” Javy sighed in annoyance from the Seresin’s kitchen table, his cheek resting in his palm. Jake kept pacing the wood floor, checking his watch every ten seconds; she was supposed to be here at 7:30 on the dot. It was 7:32. His mother Augusta and Javy shared a knowing look while his father George rolled his eyes as he took another drink of his bitter black coffee.

“We’ve got time,” Jake shot back, not looking back at them. He’s seen the looks before, he didn’t care for their knowing looks. All that mattered was seeing you before he left for the four-month deployment. A gentle knock on the patio door sent a shock of electricity through him. Jake coughed to compose himself and briskly walked towards the door.

His heart melted the moment he saw you standing there in a yellow sundress, your hands behind your back. His lips formed a smile as he noticed the small silver strawberry pendant on a delicate silver chain around your neck; it was his Christmas gift to you last year. “Hey,” you breathed, voice hitching.

“Hey,” Jake greeted, his tone matching yours.

Javy behind him rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m late, there was a problem with the watering system,” you explained hurriedly, knowing where Jake had to be.

“You’re not late,” he smiled softly. His green eyes flickered upward to meet your stare, “got somethin’ for me?” he asked, turning on the charm. You rolled your eyes and pushed past him and walked into the kitchen, greeting the three before returning your attention to your friend.

“Here,” you giggled, pushing a small mason jar of freshly cut strawberries towards him. Jake reached out, his fingers brushing yours as he took the jar. “I only gave you a little so you could have it before getting on the plane, and I know your mama likes the jars,” you told him kindly.

All the aviator could do was stare and run his fingers over the satin ribbon you tied around the lid, the little bow in the front made him smile. He noticed that you only had one jar with you this time, normally you brought a small basket for his parents and a small bag of things for Javy if he was with him. You only brought one for Jake and a sudden heat was rushing up his neck. “Gonna miss food like this,” he said, trying to fight off a blush.

“Well, hopefully, your iron stomach will hold up,” you mocked him, recalling how he lied to you while he was at flight school. You asked him if he threw up in the plane and he responded: “No, Y/N, I have an iron stomach.” He didn’t.

He was about to come back at you when Javy stood up, “We really have to go, Jake. I’m sorry.”

You and Jake looked at each other with a mixture of fear and sadness, lips suppressing three little words that were dying to be said. He hugged you tight, “Remember to call, text, email—write.” You added the last bit timidly. Jake never wrote to you while he was at sea, it left you jealous of his mother and sisters, hell even your little sister got a handwritten letter. Jake, you assumed, had his reasons which was why you never pushed.

“I’ll be back to annoy you soon.”

“Jake—Jake—Hangman!”

Jake was broken out of his trance by a harsh jab to his side. He looked around at the room, he was no longer in his kitchen and you were no longer handing him fresh strawberries. “You’re holding up my line,” Clara huffed, slapping a ladle full of the questionable strawberries and hurried them along.

Javy mockingly chuckled all the way to an empty table, ignoring his best friend's death glare as they sat. “You thinking about her?” he asked even though he already knew the answer, his shit-eating grin was enough.

The blond stabbed his fork into one of the strawberries and held it up to inspect it, “They look like shit,” he grumbled, slowly spinning it.

“Well they have been dethawed and frozen about five times,” Javy smirked.

Jake reluctantly popped it into his mouth, forcing himself to chew it. It was nothing like the ones on the farm. Picking them straight from the plant as you and him laid out on a blanket in the field. You let him judge their quality while he got to be spoiled rotten, feeling like a king as you fed him. You stopped instantly when it got to his head, he’d switch roles until the red juice leaked from the corner of your mouth and he had to force himself away from you, covering a blush redder than the berries, his pants suddenly a size too small.

“Gross,” he frowned.

“Have you talked to her?” Javy asked a while later, their meals nearly finished.

"Emailed her the other day, and left a voicemail. The usual," Jake responded plainly.

"Have you written to her?" Javy raised a single brow, the smirk on his plump lips undeniable.

"She doesn't want me to write to her."

"She literally told you to write to her," Javy shot back instantly.

Jake exhaled deeply and looked around the room, trying to avoid his friend's burning glare. His throat suddenly felt like it was going to close and it wasn't from the food. "I can't," he choked.

The other man formed a face. Jake wasn't about to get vulnerable around his team, he still had a reputation to protect. "Can't," Javy echoed with a snicker.

The two scarfed down the remainder of their lunch and Jake closely followed his friend out the doors and back to their room. Jake plopped down on his bed while Javy sat casually at the metal desk in the corner.

"Will the world come to an end if you send her a letter?

It would, because telling you about his day-to-day would just end with him telling you his biggest secret. "Yeah," Jake sighed in response, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Javy laughed, causing Jake to turn his head and look at him with an annoyed face sprawled on his chiseled features. "So you can call, text, email with no problem, but writing her a letter is your demise, Hangman?"

"When I call Y/N I'm in control of what I say even when I miss her. I can erase a text and an email—a letter's more permanent. I can't take it back."

Silence lingered in the small room, gently rocking side to side from the ocean outside its metal walls. Javy stood and opened the desk, noisily putting a piece of paper and a pencil with an unused eraser on top of the surface. Before he left, he gave his best friend a grim reminder: "She's not gonna wait forever, not even for you."

He didn’t know what scared him more, the fact that Javy was right or that he might come home to see you in the arms of another. Jake let it fester, the pit of his stomach only deepening as night fell. The sounds of Coyote’s snores kept him awake, or at least that’s what he told himself.

Jake put his head in his hands as he sat at the desk, the blank piece of paper staring at him as if it was taunting him. Rolling his neck, he finally began to write about his mundane life on the ship and in his jet. ‘I love you’ was screaming in the back of his mind until it became hoarse from trying to capture his attention. “Fuck,” he cursed with a growl in his tone. He flipped the pencil over and aggressively erased the page until there was nothing but metal left in its wake.

He opened the drawer and pulled out a note card, as he wrote the screaming came to a stop. The aviator breathed heavily as he put the pencil down with a small smack; he finally felt relief after so many years of yearning.

—

“What do you have for me today, Dolores?” you hummed as you knelt down in front of one of the cubes, pulling back the pink gingham privacy curtain. The golden-colored hen stared at you with black eyes, her beak ready to peck at your hand “Oh don’t be like that,” you cooed sweetly, maneuvering her to reveal three large brown eggs in the center of the hay.

Dolores clucked and hastily walked out of her room, shaking her tail feathers at you dramatically. “Thank you,” you giggled, placing the warm eggs in your wicker basket that had a blue ribbon weaved through the handle. Jake made fun of you endlessly for it when you told him you had a different basket for each of your tasks: robins egg blue for eggs, red for strawberries, and purple for blueberries. He only stopped after you punched him in the arm hard enough to leave knuckle-sized bruises on his bicep.

You stared down at the bucket full of eggs, eyes mindlessly scanning them. Your thoughts quickly drifted to the aviator as sat on the dusty floor with a fond smile and tears brimming your eyes. You looked around the old barn, remembering how he paraded around, and confidently picked up your favorite hens, spinning them around like dance partners.

“Put my chickens down, Jake,” you’d always huff.

“Fine, fine—you make a better dance partner anyway.” His one-liners echoed in your ears, the thoughts of him only making your heartache worse. You smiled as if you were watching a movie, Jake twirling you around in the center of the barn, kicking up dust and the place would be filled by your and his laughter. It was like he was right there.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Maggie called out as she came to an abrupt stop. She panted and hunched over with one hand on her knee and the other holding white envelopes in the air.

“What are you doin’?” you fought back a laugh, putting your fingers over your lips.

“You got mail!” she exclaimed, waving the letters. A wave of annoyance crashed into you, the mail when Jake was deployed only brought false hope. Never a letter from him, no matter how many hints you dropped before he left.

“I don’t need to consolidate my debt,” you huffed as you stood up, returning your attention to the coop, “and I don’t need to switch car insurances.” You scowled as you reached inside, snatching the eggs from the inside and putting them gruffly in your basket, not caring if they broke.

Maggie looked up with wide eyes, her eyebrows knitting together softly. “But it’s a letter,” she mumbled, her tone weaker.

“Already registered to vote,” you hum in annoyance, “jus’ throw them away Maggie.”

“It’s from Jake.”

You smiled, the barn falling silent, even the hens stayed quiet as if they all knew.

“You sure?” you questioned quietly, turning around while trying to remain composed.

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin. Right on the front,” Maggie read his handwriting as she crossed the room, slapping the letter in your shaky open hand. You looked down and read the words she just spoke for confirmation. The envelope had seen better days, black streaks littered the front as if it was run over a bunch of times, the corners slightly dented.

“Can I- uh, be alone please?” you ask, a clear waver in your tone. Maggie nodded and silently left you be, her fingers crossed behind her back.

As soon as the teen was out of sight, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in your chest. Jake actually wrote you- oh god he might be hurt, writing from a hospit- no, you thought, instantly clearing your thoughts. Jake would’ve texted or called if he was hurt. Could be a practical joke? Coyote might have put him up to it. He was always the funny one of the duo. You stopped pacing and sat on the stool next to the workbench resting on the side.

You couldn’t tear it open fast enough, the envelope tearing perfectly as your pointer finger dragged through the glued paper. A note card fell into your lap unknowingly as you held up the piece of folded lined paper. You inhaled deeply, your eyes fluttering closed as you said a silent prayer to the universe or whoever would listen to your pleas for his safety. “Alright, asshole, what do you want?” you whispered, opening up his letter.

The words were faded on the paper, but you managed to pick out some consultants and adjectives here and there. You managed to read a couple of sentences about the carrier and how Coyote snores when he sleeps. They weren’t faded from wear, you noticed as your eyes kept frantically scanning. They were erased, Jake wrote all that just to erase it; there were still little fragments of the eraser clinging to the page. “Nice joke, douchebag,” you grumbled angrily.

You crumpled the poor excuse of a letter and tossed it to the ground below you, your hens running to inspect the new object. Looking at your lap, you saw the white notecard. Perhaps one of his friends drew you a jet or something. With a heavy sigh, you flipped it over.

‘I’m in love with you’

The sentence was written dead center in his best handwriting and right below it was a doodle of a strawberry. It looked like he erased the drawing once or twice before he got the perfect shape of the fruit. Your jaw unclenched only to tremble as tears sprung to your eyes. “I love you too,” you whispered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

—

The summer months had flown by, Texas had finally begun to cool down as Jake’s deployment came to its end. Neither you nor Jake mentioned his letter in his correspondence, you wanted to tell him how you felt when he was in front of you and— well, you didn’t know why Jake failed to bring it up.

You sat with your family in the early afternoon, the kitchen buzzing with your mom trying to cook while your father bugged her for samples. “I got it!” Maggie yelped as he heard the front doorbell ring.

“Ears of a dog,” your mother sighed, rolling her eyes from the stove.

You smiled and went back to your phone, scrolling mindlessly. “Y/N, it’s for you!” your sister shouted.

“Is Jake home already?” your father asked.

Your heart began to race, “His plane doesn’t land for another hour,” you answered unsurely. You walked to the door, the nerves in your body only getting stronger as you saw Augusta standing on the front porch.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she greeted you motherly as she pulled you into a hug. She pulled back and held your hands; it was like she knew. “I jus’ came ‘round to see if you wanted to come to the airport with me to pick up the boy.”

A wide smile broke out on your face as you eagerly nodded your head, “I’d like that very much,” you chirped, your heart finally beginning to calm down. You pulled away to step back inside grabbed your bag and took a look in the small mirror that hung near the door. You could see the smiles on your family’s faces in the reflection. “I’ll be back!” you called before slamming the door shut.

—

Jake scanned the occupants as he walked through the airport, his duffle bag hanging off his shoulders. He politely smiled and briefly responded to the older men who praised him and thanked him for his service but kept walking towards the exit. His green eyes were locked on the departures and arrival boards, a common place his family would be whenever they picked him up.

He didn’t see them this time.

He saw you.

He saw you standing in the middle of the room in the red sundress he mocked you for. All he wanted to do now was to tell you it was his favorite. You didn’t see him at first, you were still looking for the tall blond in a khaki uniform. Jake never thought he’d get one of those cliche moments in an airport when all at once the world slowed down with the person of his desire the only thing in focus. He’d never forget the moment when his eyes locked with yours, your searching expression turning gleeful.

“Jake,” you called his name happily to get his attention.

“I didn’t expect to see you till later,” he chuckled, finally putting down his bag.

“Your mom…” you trailed off, motioning towards the coffee shop.

There was a small pause before he stepped closer into your space, his chest nearly touching yours. “Did you?” he asked, trying to keep it vague.

You bashfully looked down, fiddling with your fingers. Jake always noticed your habits, he took your hands in his to get you to stop. “I got the letter…and the note card,” you answered him quietly, not trusting your own voice.

“I meant it.”

Removing your hands, the shakingly reached up finding the lapels of his shirt, fingertips tracing the golden pins at the ends. “Good,” you breathed, “because I love you too. I’m in love with you, Jake.”

That was enough for him to cup your face, bending down to kiss you. It was one of those kisses filled with passion, desire, and longing. A kiss that would make most people turn away and fan themselves. The two of you couldn’t help it, that kiss was years in the making. “Love you,” he mumbled after finally pulling away, his hands cradling your face.

You leaned into his touch and hummed in satisfaction, “Love you too” you responded. “I hate to break up the moment but you should go say hi to your mom.”

Jake pecked at your lips a few more times before reluctantly pulling away from you. Instead of walking toward his mom, he opened up his bag and took out a small cup. “Got these on the layover, they don’t compare to yours, but I wanted to return the favor,” he explained, handing you the cup and kissing your cheek.

Looking down, you lovingly looked at the cup of cut strawberries, a small black Sharpie heart drawn on the center of the tin lid. You looked up to find him hugging his mother, but his beautiful green eyes were looking at you, sending a charming wink your way that instantly made you weak in the knees.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfic #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #top gun #top gun maverick

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sirianasims · 9 days

Text

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #samara davies #miranda villanueva

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olinblogin · 7 months

Note

Hello! If the request are open, may I ask for a Yan Wukong x Fem Reader x Yan Macaque (romantically) where Reader tries to avoid them to have a time for herself or being with her own friends? I just imagine those two monkeys being the clingy and jealous cats they are XD

Thank you so much! ♡♡♡

Of course! Thank you so much for your request! I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

YAN!SUN WUKONG X FEM!READER X YAN!MACAQUE

TW/CW; mentions of alcohol/drinking, slight for, vomiting (because of alcohol), very minor character death

Clicking open the lock to your bedroom window, you took one last glance back at the two simians splayed in your bed; both clutching pillows you’d put in your place. You were thankful for those house canceling earmuffs you got for Macaque…

If not for them, he’d certainly have caught you trying to sneak out by now and dragged you back under the covers.

But you weren’t going to let that happen… you’d waited for too long to go out clubbing with your friends again. Carefully ducking under the window you’d opened, you shuffled out onto the sidewalk and carefully shut the window back.

You grabbed your bag off the ground and made your way down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the concrete rapidly as you made your way to the club.

Finally making your way there you squinted at the fluorescent lights that displayed the name; “The June Joint”.

You opened the door and were met with the scent of what you could only assume was a mix of BO, alcohol, and fruity vapes. You got over it soon when you saw your friends, rushing over to them and saying your hellos. It soon progressed to you all dancing drunkly on the dance floor… you couldn’t even hear the song playing; let alone if they were playing one at all.

You’d promised yourself you’d only have one drink tonight, but that one drink soon turned into two, and a few shots. Feeling a bit queasy you wobbled your way to the bar to get ahold of yourself. The were playing ‘Copacabana’ and as much as you wanted to dance right now, a migraine was starting to form at a splitting pace.

You fished your phone out of your bra, immediately sobering up in horror when you read the notifications… 13 missed calls, 57 unread messages.

“Oh, shit.” You scrambled to the entrance of the club; only to be dragged back by a clammy hand. “C’mon pretty girl, no need to rush… come dance with me and my guys and we’ll give you something worthwhile..” the man slurred. With a grimace you tried to take your arm back… but he had a real good grip.

“I’m sorry… I’d love to. But I’m taken, I need to get home too.” And at those words it almost seemed like it summoned two other men, tatted out and brooding. “He doesn’t gotta know. Besides I’m sure I can give you so much more than a shrimp-dick that you’re dati—“

CRACK…

His clammy hand fell from your arm as you stared down at the crumpled figure in horror, silence wafted over the club before screams rang out. You noticed a familiar staff end cascaded with golden clouds embroidered into it. uh oh..

Amidst the chaos you were tugged back by another hand, craning your neck to see Macaque holding you close and glowering at Wukong, who was beating the corpse of the man who dared to touch you to a bloody pull.

“That idiot… he could’ve gotten that disgusting man’s blood on you.” Macaque snarled lowly as he lay his head on top of yours, waiting for Wukong to finish beating the hell out of an already dead man.

When finished, Wukong looked back at you while slightly panting from exertion… “[Y/N]! What the hell were you doing out without us?! You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Before you could reply you felt the floor below you vanish; falling through on of Macaque’s shadow portals and back to your house. Still having alcohol in your system, that definitely didn’t work in your favor.

They were both about to scold you when they watched you scramble to the bathroom and hurl into the toilet. Wukong and Macaque looked at each other with their ears flattened, both immediately going to your side on the bathroom floor. Wukong held your hair back for you and Macaque rubbed your back while you emptied the contents of your stomach.

It felt like hours until you’d finally come to a halt, leaning back against the bathtub while Macaque whipped your mouth and readied a toothbrush. “I’m so sorry… I should’ve known you’d get sick when we went through my shadows. Can you ever forgive me, Starlight?” Macaque asked quietly as he carefully brushed your teeth for you.

Wukong soon came back with armfuls of food. Sitting down by your side he sifted through the foods. “Wukong what the hell is all this?! She needs something light! Like toast or crackers!” Macaque scolded as Wukong’s tail flicked with panic. “I-I didn’t know what to get her— you’re the one who knows stuff about nutrition and stuff!” Wukong shoveled everything back I to his arms and scurried to the kitchen once again.

Wukong scrambled back in with some crackers and water for you. Whatever they were angry about earlier they’d completely forgotten about when you’d gotten sick.

“Are you feeling any better, Sunshine?” Wukong asked as his tail curled around your leg. “Not really… the. Crackers are helping, though.” You mumbled hoarsely.

“Well at least it’s helping..” Macaque muttered, carefully scooping you up and laying you in the bed, pulling the covers over you and getting a bucket just in case. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? Snacks? Drinks? Kisses?” Wukong asked frantically, sitting at the edge of the bed by your side. “No.. it’s okay. I just wanna sleep off this migraine, please.”

Wukong nodded and shuffled to snuggle into your arms, Macaque snuggling up behind you as you lay sandwiched between them both.

“Good night, [Y/N],”

#lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #yandere #shadowpeach #femme reader #character x reader #x character #polyamory #minor character death

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anjaelle · 1 year

Text

Study Buddies

Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Black!Reader Summary: He's decidedly taken permanent residence in this dorm room, and you can't say it bothers you much. Warnings: Language, mentions of bruising/battering. Word Count: 2k a/n: The successor to Dumpster Diving. The same two losers in the same universe. Only because you guys asked so nicely.

(gif source)

--x--

"I feel like this is an abuse of my good graces."

You watched as Dave Lizewski climbed through your window for the third time that week and tripped over your extension cord, falling to the floor with a dull thud. He popped back up, readjusting his hoodie and his glasses.

"You really need to move that somewhere."

"Right," you nodded, nudging the power strip with your foot, "gotta make sure my flurry of suitors have clear access to my boudoir."

He cracked a smile at you, one he rarely expressed in public for other people, and you felt your heart thump against your ribs.

Absolutely fucking not.

You plopped onto your bed and crossed your legs, "Okay, Kick-Ass, what brings you to my window this time?"

You were prepared for another round of bruises and cuts from endless fights he seemed to get himself into. Sometimes he explained the injuries, other times he didn't. But he was just happy he had someone who could help him without asking too many questions.

This time he simply shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels.

"I kinda...just wanted to see you today."

"Oh!"

There was a heavy pause and he scratched the back of his head.

"Yeaaaah."

You propped your chin on your fist, inquisitively, eying the way he seemed to fit so seamlessly into your living space. "You just saw me at study group this afternoon."

"C'mon you know it's not the same."

He was right. Sure, you had the tendency to sit next to each other in study group and bump knees. And you could feel his glances every five minutes. And sure, when he wasn't passing glances at you, you were passing glances at him wondering why he wasn't looking at you.

And, yes, you did know what it felt like to have him sleep on your chest while you stroked his soft curly hair. But that usually only happened after you got him sorted out. This was new.

You scooted over and patted the space next to you on the bed, which he happily plopped down on like he always did after leaning over to kiss you on the forehead.

"So you came all this way and climbed the side of a building for little old me? I still don't know why you don't use the front door."

“The security guard creeps me out. Besides, I’m not spider-man. I just used some guy’s ladder.”

“You stole someone’s ladder?”

“He wasn’t using it!”

“What if he’s on some roof trying to get down now?”

He stared at you. You stared back. His eyes widened.

"I'll be right back!" He jumped up and rushed out the door, shouting behind him, "Prop the front door open for me!"

He came back about ten minutes later, red-faced with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. His hair was messy like he'd been running, and his glasses were slightly askew.

"So..."he took a deep breath and wiped his hands on his sweater, "there was a guy on the roof. He was really pissed and, uh, I got freaked out and ran."

You noticed the grass stains on his clothes, which was clear evidence that he tripped and fell at least once on the way back. It was hard not to feel the swell of...something...deep in the pit of your stomach.

"Another job well done, Kick-Ass. Always thinking of the common man." You playfully tugged at the zipper of his hoodie, zipping it up and down while he cleaned his dirty glasses off on the Watchmen shirt you got him.

Because that's what friends did. You bought stuff for each other. For fun.

He didn't think twice about stripping down to his underclothes to throw his things in the wash. His reasons were partially because his roommates were always too lazy to clear their machine out for him to use, partially because he really liked your detergent (he admitted that the smell reminded him of you), and partially because he knew you didn't like when he wore his "gross street clothes" in your room.

Which was absolutely fair.

After throwing his grass-stained, dirty clothes in the wash, he flopped onto your bed and stared at the fairy lights that decorated the ceiling. You sat cross-legged next to him, looking him over and subconsciously checking for new injuries. You'd learned first aid just to help him with his stitches...and the occasional bullet removal. You didn't learn the bullet removal in first aid class. You puked the first time. You could still see the messy stitching in his shoulder where he was shot.

The mixtape he made for you played lowly out of the speaker on your desk, and you heard him humming softly to himself in thought.

"I like your room." He suddenly said, tilting his head to fully address you.

You cracked a smile at him, "Yeah I can tell. You've been hanging out here every other day for the last 2 months. You might as well move in."

A light, airy laugh bubbled out of him in waves. It sounded almost like a giggle, which made you giggle too.

"Why are we laughing?" You asked bumping him with your knee.

Dave pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he thought deeply about what he wanted to say next. The fact that he lacked a poker face made him relatively easy to read--and he's said the same about you at least once.

He tapped your knee with his knuckle, "Nothing. I--just...nothing. I promise."

You sat in comfortable silence again as the music filled the room and the gentle golden lights cast shadows along the walls.

"Has anyone ever followed you here?" You asked.

"No."

It was a stern, short answer. Absolute. Definite. His eyes scanned you from head to toe before settling on your face. It was the most serious you'd ever seen him. When he propped himself on his elbow to rest his head on his hand, he clenched his jaw.

"I'd never let that happen. I would never come here first because I'd never put you in the position to be in danger."

"I know," you admitted, carefully, "I was just wondering--"

"I'd never let anything happen to you." He stated with a shrug.

You instinctively reached out and pushed his dark curls back and away from his eyes, "I thought I was the one keeping you safe. How did we get here?"

In one swift motion, he wrapped his arms around you to pull you on top of him like you weighed nothing. His strength always seemed to surprise you. You barely had time to let out a shocked squeak.

"You can't keep doing that."

His eyes widened, "Did that hurt? I'm sorry--"

"No," you swatted his chest, playfully, "I'm fine. I'm just never really prepared for it."

When he was sure he didn't severely traumatize you with his displays of affection, he resumed rubbing small, lazy circles into your lower back.

"Sorry for startling you."

"You're forgiven."

He leaned forward and kissed your nose.

Dave Lizewski was an enigma. Beneath the nervousness, the dorkiness, the shyness, and general earnestness was someone who surprisingly had a lot of game. You used to imagine that he practiced his lines in the mirror before he visited you. Then you realized...no. He's just very honest when he's comfortable.

You rested your head on his chest to listen to his strong, steady heartbeat that seemed to pick up speed. When you reached up to gently touch the healing scar on his collarbone where he was nearly stabbed, he shifted under you.

"What are you thinking?" He suddenly asked.

"I get scared for you sometimes."

He said nothing, but you felt his hand pause before continuing its trek down your back.

"You're still a human being, y'know," you added, "even when I pulled you out of the dumpster--"

"Which I still thank you for, by the way."

You snorted, "You're welcome. But even when I pulled you from the dumpster, you could've died from how high you fell. And then there's the stabbing, and the shooting, and you got hit by a crowbar once..."

He seemed to consider this. Then he said, "Someone has to do it. No one else on campus--in town--has stepped up to the plate yet."

"But why does it have to be you?"

"Why not me?"

"You can't answer my question with another question, you asshat."

He laughed at your outburst and lightly patted you on the butt.

"Compromise? I pinky swear to stop after graduation."

You didn't believe him. But when he held his pinky out to you, you wrapped yours around his and he pulled you in for a quick peck on the lips.

"Fine. But if you're still running around lower manhattan in a onesie at 26, I'm telling your dad."

You curled yourself back up against his chest while he curled one of your braids around his finger, absentmindedly.

"You don't have to worry about that, by the way." He said, dropping your hair, "I just really, really like the idea of you still being in my life four or five years from now."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Dave nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again, "I dunno. I just...I think you're really cool and I know I can be weird sometimes. And I know you might not see me the way I see you but-"

You leaned forward to kiss him once and then twice. And as your curled your fingers into his hair, he seemed to melt into your touch with a soft groan. He pulled away just enough to rip his glasses off and toss them in the corner before pulling you in again. He wrapped a calloused hand around the back of your neck when you nipped at his lower lip. Your fingernails slipped under his undershirt to walk along the sensitive skin of his lower stomach, just above the waistband of his boxers, and he shuddered.

"Fuck," he hissed, kissing along your jaw and down your throat, "God, I love you."

Your eyes popped open. "What?"

"What?"

He trailed kisses back up to your lips like nothing happened, but you could feel his heart thudding in his chest.

"Did you... just say...you loved me?" You asked, between kisses. He pulled away and stared at you with panic in his wide blue eyes.

"Yes. No. Yes...shit did I ruin it? Do you want me to go?"

"No."

You felt a rush of an unexplained emotion flow through you as you pulled your hand out from under his shirt.

He traced the shape of your lower lip with this thumb before dropping his hand to your shoulder, "I--you don't have to say it back. It just slipped out."

You rolled off of him and crawled up the bed to rest your back against the wall. He hesitated, then slid into the space beside you.

"I lied," he mumbled, "I was gonna say it before, but you distracted me with your mouth. Again."

You sighed and reached over to hold his hand.

"How long?"

"Since last semester."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

You watched him thump his head against the wall, "Because I didn't want to ruin our friendship. But, y'know, we crossed that line the first time we smanged, I think."

"Please don't say smanged."

You could hear the grin in his voice without looking at him, "We smanged."

You flicked him on the shoulder and he laughed. Some of the nervous tension melted away as he squeezed your hand.

"Like I said," he continued, "you don't have to say it back. It's okay if you don't feel the same way."

You thought for a moment about how often you worried about him and how often he watched over you. He seemed to always be around, even when he wasn't physically there. Dave was undoubtedly your best friend. You turned to look at him only to find him already watching you with the most intense gaze you'd ever seen. Felt your cheeks heat up.

"I'm not sure if it's love yet." You said, carefully, "But...I think it could be."

#aaron taylor johnson x black!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj x reader #atj x black!reader #dave lizewski x reader #jaelle writes

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