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persevereforahappyending · 2 months

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A Legacies Secret |8|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 6.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Sam wiped away her tears as she left Tara’s hospital room. She jumped as the door slammed closed behind her. Tara didn’t need her, she had you now, maybe Tara never needed her. She left, she didn’t have a right to tell Tara what to do or judge the decisions she made. Sam left and her little sister grew up without her, she was an adult who had no need for her big sister anymore.

Sam once again jumped back when she turned away from the door and right into Richie. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s me,” Richie said softly, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “It’s okay.”

“Were you listening at the door?” Sam asked, staring at Richie. It was kind of obvious he was listening at the door, just as you probably were, given how quickly you ran into the room. She needed to hear Richie confirm it himself though.

“No, no, of course not,” Richie tried to wave it off. “Okay, yeah, I was listening at the door,” he just as quickly caved, admitting he in fact was eavesdropping.

“It doesn’t freak you out, that my real father was a serial killer?”

Sam searched his face, wondering why he hadn’t run the second he learned the truth. Sam hated her birth father, she hated herself, she hated being related to him, as much as she loved her sister, she couldn’t blame Tara for hating her now as well, she fully expected the same from Richie. You already weren’t a fan of hers, learning this would probably make you officially hate her even more. Sam couldn’t see how anyone could like her, let alone love her, knowing who her father was and what he did.

“I mean, yeah,” Richie nodded, giving her an awkward smile. “A great deal.”

“Okay, go, I get it,” Sam shook her head, trying to keep control of her breathing and not breakdown. She had met an awesome guy, a nice guy, and now she had ruined that relationship, just like every other relationship in her life, all because of who her father was. “I just got to stay and figure it out.” Sam didn’t care if Tara hated her, she didn’t care if her sister never wanted to see her again, this was all her fault and she wasn’t leaving until she learned who attacked her sister, she wouldn’t rest until she knew her sister was safe.

“I’m not leaving you here Sam.” He said it so simply, as if leaving her there alone never even crossed his mind. Sam couldn’t see how that was a possibility, if Richie were smart, he’d leave her, anyone else would have.

“If you were smart, you’d get the fuck out.”

“Well, then maybe I’m not smart,” Richie said softly, stepping forward and taking Sam’s hands in his own. “Because I’m staying.” Sam looked up at him in disbelief, she truly couldn’t believe the words she was hearing, she couldn’t fathom why any sane person would stay when all this was going on, why anyone would stay with her knowing how messed up she was.

Richie looked down, opening a closing his mouth slightly as if he were nervous to say what he wanted to say before looking back up, looking Sam directly in the eye. “I love you,” he said, his voice shaking with each word. Sam’s eyes darted around, searching his face, she truly couldn’t believe he said that. It was the first time Richie had ever said those words to her, she wasn’t sure if him choosing this moment proved how much he loved her or proved how crazy he was for being willing to stay during this insanity.

“You’re a dumbass,” Sam said. She wasn’t ready to say those words back yet, she wasn’t sure what was keeping her from it, she had known Richie for six months and they had gotten along right away, becoming friends long before they started dating. Sam just couldn’t bring herself to say ‘I love you’ back.

“So, your sister won’t talk to you,” Richie caressed Sam’s face, then began running his hands through her hair. “The police aren’t going to help, what’s our next move?”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what Richie said was true. She knew Judy had an officer on Tara’s room and others in the hospital, but they still weren’t anywhere close to actually figuring out who Ghostface was, so they were truly on their own in trying to catch this psycho. “We go talk to an expert.”

Sam approached the trailer of Dewey Riley, with Richie right behind her, one of the perks of living in a small town was it was pretty easy to find someone, it took her less than a minute to get Dewey’s address. She didn’t know what to do, the only thing that made sense was talking to someone who was there at the beginning, who had survived this kind of stuff before. Technically Sheriff Hicks also survived but she didn’t like Sam and she barely counted as being apart of the whole thing. Therefore, it left Dewey, he was also the only one still in town, everyone else was either dead or had some sense and got out of town.

Dewey was still sheriff before she left town, he was sheriff during all the trouble she caused. She had remembered seeing Dewey around the station, but she had never interacted with him. It was always deputy Hicks she had the displeasure of interacting with. Sam was also never officially arrested, Judy usually brought her home, occasionally when she was feeling petty, she’d cuff Sam, throw her in the back of the cruiser, and bring her down to the station until her mom could pick her up. No, the only person Sam saw Dewey regularly interact with was you.

“Go away!” a voice shouted from inside the trailer as soon as Sam knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you Mr. Riley,” she yelled back. “We just want to ask you a few questions.” She really needed Dewey to open the door, if he didn’t talk to them, she wasn’t sure what she would do, she had no idea how to prepare for a psycho coming after her and her sister.

“I don’t give interviews.” Dewey sounded more irritated. Sam couldn’t blame him, she couldn’t imagine what his life has been like, surviving all those attacks and being good friends with Sidney Prescott. Dewey’s life was probably filled with nonstop questions, people and reports asking him to describe what happened to himself and to his friends. It couldn’t have been easy being constantly asked to relive probably some of the worst days of your life.

“We’re not looking for an interview.”

Dewey’s face suddenly appeared in the little window of the door to his trailer. “Give me one good reason I should talk to you.”

“I’m Billy Loomis’s daughter,” Sam said, staring Dewey right in the eyes. This was the first time she said she was Billy’s daughter and didn’t hesitate, she didn’t question the words leaving her mouth.

The next thing she knew Dewey was opening the door. “That’s a terrible reason for me to talk to you.” Dewey was no longer yelling, Sam wasn’t sure if that was a plus though, he just seemed exhausted now.

“My name is Samantha Carpenter,” Sam continued, Dewey at least opened the door, and she didn’t intend to back down now. “I was attacked last night at the hospital. The night before that my sister was stabbed seven times. I know you know what that’s like,” she said the last part softly. She might have wanted Dewey’s help, but she didn’t want to seem unsympathetic. “I’m just trying to protect my family,” Sam sighed. “Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I’ll give you two minutes,” Dewey agreed, though he sounded firm in only giving them two minutes. Sam wished it had been more, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity, this could be the only chance to get some advice from someone who survived not one attack but multiple. “I’m missing a show I like.” Dewey went back into his trailer, leaving the door open for Sam and Richie to enter.

“Gale Weathers,” Richie said as he and Sam walked into the trailer. Dewey had her morning show on but quickly turned it off as the three of them sat down. “Weren’t you two…” Sam held in a sigh; she was starting to regret bringing Richie along with her.

“Yeah,” Dewey said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it. Dewey took an aggressive sip of his coffee, flicking a glare at Richie before focusing his attention on Sam. “Who’s he?” he nodded to Richie.

“This is Richie,” Sam said. “My boyfriend.”

Richie smiled, readjusting in his seat as if he were about to offer his hand to Dewey and introduce himself. “How long have you known him?” Dewey never gave him a chance to introduce himself, he never even looked at him again, he just got right down to business.

Sam was a little taken aback by the question. “Six months,” she answered anyway, though she was a little confused as to why Dewey was asking.

“Did he know who your dad was when you met? Express any interest in Woodsboro or the Ghostface killings?”

Sam gave an awkward smile, turning to look at Richie, she wasn’t sure if Dewey was actually serious. She came to him for advice not to be questioned about her relationship.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Richie asked awkwardly. He kept glancing at Sam as if wanting her to confirm if Dewey was serious.

“Your killer is obsessed with the Stab movies, right?” Dewey asked, leaning back in his chair. Sam nodded, hesitant but curious as to where he was going with this. “Well, there’s certain rules to surviving a Stab movie. Believe me, I know.” Dewey looked off to the side, looking out the window as if his mind went to another place for a second. “Rule number one, never trust the love interest,” he shook his head, looking right at Richie. “They seem sweet, caring, supportive, but then welcome to act three, where they’re trying to rip your head off.”

“I was with Sam in Modesto when Tara was attacked,” Richie said, instantly defending himself. Sam was looking at Richie, nodding her head to confirm what he was saying. They were together that whole night, she didn’t even get the call about Tara until the next morning.

“And let me guess,” Dewey continued, sounding more cynical as he went on. “You were just in the other room, conveniently unaccounted for when she was attacked at the hospital.”

“Okay, do I have to take this from shitty Sam Elliot over here, or what?”

“Rule number two.” Sam slowly looked from Richie back to Dewey. “The killer’s motive,” he was still glaring at Richie as he spoke. “Is always connected to something in the past.”

“I’m related to Billy,” Sam said. She already knew Tara was most likely attacked because of her; she knew even before Ghostface said he knew her secret; she knew the moment Wes said Tara was attacked by someone in a Ghostface mask. Hearing Dewey practically confirm it though wasn’t easy, Tara was basically attacked all because Sam was the daughter of a serial killer.

“Right,” Richie said, nodding along. “But then why kill that random Vince guy?”

Sam nodded at that; Vince seemed like a random victim. Tara was the first victim, then she herself was attacked at the hospital but it didn’t seem like Ghostface actually wanted to kill her, more like just scare her. You and Tara’s friends were all at that bar, you worked at the bar, you had been outside seconds after Vince was attacked, meaning Ghostface wanted Vince for some reason, no one else.

“That’s for you to figure out,” Dewey said. “And rule number three, and this is the most important rule.” Sam turned in her seat so she could give Dewey her full attention. “The first victim always has a friend group, that the killer is apart of.” Sam nodded along, she remembered that being a theme in all the movies from the one time she saw them, and hearing about the real-life stories. “Does your sister have a closeknit group of friends?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding, Tara had exactly that. “She does.”

“Then look for the killer there.”

She knew Dewey’s logic; she knew from his experience that this was always how it went down. Sam couldn’t imagine it though; she couldn’t picture any of Tara’s friends attacking her. Tara knew all of her friends since she was a little kid, Sam baby sat all of them, they literally grew up together, Sam watched them grow up. The only person who was new to the group, or she guessed more so, new to Tara’s life, was you.

“If you can find out why they’re doing this,” Dewey continued. “You can figure out who’s next.” That made sense as well; despite never understanding why someone would dress up and kill all their friends, the killer always had some sort of twisted motive and that motive tended to explain who their victims were and would be.

“So, help us,” Sam tried pleading. She knew it was a long shot. Dewey hadn’t even wanted to let them in his trailer to talk, the odds of him agreeing to get involved were zero to none. “Help us figure out who’s behind this.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Dewey sighed, sounding more exhausted than he had since opening the door. “I’ve been stabbed nine times, I’ve got permanent nerve damage, and a fun little limp. You think I want to do that again?” he let out a humorless chuckle.

“You just said it always goes back to the past.” Sam still intended to try her hardest to convince Dewey to help, she didn’t think she could figure this out on her own, she needed help. “Right?” Dewey reluctantly nodded, seeming to know where she was about to go with this. “So, if I’m in danger, that means you’re in danger.” Dewey seemed to take in her words as he was suddenly unable to meet her gaze. “Come on, let’s do this, together.”

There was a split second that it almost seemed like Dewey was going to agree to help them. “Your time’s up,” he said instead. He quickly stood up, walking to his door and holding it open for them.

Sam rolled her eyes as she pushed herself off the couch and stomped out of the trailer, Richie following close behind her. As soon as they were out the door Dewey slammed the door closed. Sam couldn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved, it was insane for someone to willingly get involved in this mess, she had just told Richie that before coming to see Dewey. That didn’t mean she wasn’t still annoyed that Dewey wouldn’t help them. She figured out of everyone else in the world the person most likely to help would be someone who had survived what they’re going through now, Dewey knew quite literally what they were going through, and he still refused to help.

“Okay, what’s next?” Richie asked as they made their way back to the car.

“The friends,” Sam said, easily catching the keys as Richie tossed them to her. She didn’t want to suspect Tara’s friends, but they were the only ones that made sense.

Before starting the car, she shot a quick text to Wes, asking him to gather the others. Wes quickly texted back saying he’d do it. Sam sat there for a few minutes when another text from Wes came through. Wes had said the others all agreed to meet at Mindy and Chad’s, since they were the niece and nephew of one of the victims of the second killings it made sense to meet at their house. Sam started the car and quickly pulled out of the trailer park, not carrying if she was speeding on her way to Mindy and Chad’s.

Sam pulled into Mindy and Chad’s driveway, seeing a few more cars there as well. As they were walking up to the door Sam heard another car door closing. She turned around and couldn’t help but smile when she saw Dewey walking up to them.

“You came,” she said when he was close enough. She truly thought he wasn’t going to help them, that she was completely on her own in trying to figure this out.

“Let’s get this over with,” Dewey sighed, leading the way to the door.

Mindy opened the door, leading them to the family room and telling them the others were already there. Sam had only been in the Meeks-Martin household a handful of times when babysitting the twins, but it hadn’t seemed to change much over the years.

Sam stood in front of the others, she had just opened her mouth, ready to tell them that she was the daughter of Billy Loomis, when there was a knock at the door. Martha Meeks quickly ran to the door, happily greeting whoever it was. Sam glanced back and had to do a double take when she saw you walking into the room.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. She asked them to gather everyone, she didn’t realize that meant you as well. She was honestly surprised you left Tara’s side for something like this, considering you refused to go to work until Tara basically ordered you to.

“Tara asked me to come,” you said. Sam let out a hum, now that made sense. She wondered how much convincing it took to get you to leave Tara’s side. “You all have exactly one hour,” you pulled out your phone, quickly typing off a text to someone. “So, let’s get this over with.” You pushed past Sam and took a seat on the far end of the couch, putting yourself as far away from everyone else as you could get.

“Why are you here?” Dewey asked. He squinted his eyes, watching you carefully even though you hadn’t so much as glanced at him.

“Tara’s my girlfriend,” you said. “Going to arrest me for that? Sheriff,” you made sure to say that last part with all the sarcasm.

Dewey narrowed his eyes at you. “How long have you been together?”

You rolled your eyes, clearly not enjoying yet another person questioning your relationship. Sam would bet money that it also didn’t help that the one questioning your relationship is the cop who used to always deal with you.

“It will be two years in December,” you sighed, obviously getting more irritated. “Can we move this along, please,” you looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “I would like to get back to Tara.”

Sam nodded, she didn’t want to shift the attention back to herself but you and Dewey arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere, especially if you ended up storming out before they even got started. “Alright,” Sam said nervously. She glanced back to see Richie giving her an encouraging smile. “I’m the daughter of Billy Loomis.”

Everyone’s mouths fell open. Sam could practically see their brains trying to process the information. Sam quickly ran to take her seat on the couch, not wanting to be the center of attention anymore. She spared a glance at you, seeing you weren’t shocked, she figured you overheard her conversation with Tara or Tara told you herself. Your jaw was clenched as you stared off across the room, your hands balled into fists, and you refused to look at Sam.

Mindy was the first to break out of her shock by instantly jumping to her feet and running to the closet they had filled with movies. Sam furrowed her brow as she watched Mindy shuffle around the movies, until finally finding what she was looking for and popping it into the DVD player. Sam suppressed a sigh when she saw it wasn’t Stab Mindy had put on but Stab: The True Story. It was basically a documentary of the true story, though no one who actually survived what happened was involved in the making of it or was interviewed. Sam was pretty sure Gale Weathers was involved in some way, but the documentary was mostly made up of pictures and found footage, with a ‘expert’ who had done their research and talked about what happened.

“So, you’re saying that you’re the daughter of Billy Loomis,” Chad said, being the first to break the silence. “And that, what, one of us is the killer?” he gestured at himself and his friends.

“The killer told me he knew my secret,” Sam said. It was clear Chad didn’t appreciate him and his friends being accused of being a killer but based on the history, it was always someone in the friend group. “He attacked Tara to lure me back here.” Sam caught you clenching your fists tighter as her words, she assumed you had already figured that part out as well.

“But then why immediately go and murder some douche-nozzle that was stalking Liv?”

“And why does it have to be one of us?” Wes asked. “What about deputy Dewey here? Maybe he’s the killer.” Wes shrugged. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Dewey said. “But what’s my motive?”

“You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife, and crawled into a bottle,” Wes listed off. “I think it’s safe to say you’re on the suspect list.”

Sam let out a small sigh, she had gone to Dewey for help but what Wes said made sense. As hard for her as it was to admit it still seemed one of the friends was more likely involved than Dewey. Wes’s argument was good but Dewey suddenly snapping after all these years and going after some random kids didn’t make much sense.

“Well, maybe you’re the killer,” Dewey said. “Cause that cut deep.”

“That douche-nozzle is connected,” Amber said. “I googled him. His mom is Leslie Macher. Stu Macher’s sister.”

“Who’s Stu Macher?” Liv asked.

“He’s Billy Loomis’s accomplice,” Dewey answered, leaning forward in his seat again.

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, nodding along, everything was finally starting to make sense. “So, the first three attacks are all on people related to the original killers.”

“Oh my god,” Mindy said, shooting up from her seat. “He’s making a requel.”

Everyone looked at Mindy like she had grown two head. “A what?” Sam decided to be the one to ask.

“Like a sequel, fans are confused or torn on the terminology.”

“God,” Chad sighed. “Please speak English.” Sam couldn’t help but agree, she understood what a sequel was, but she had no idea what the hell a requel was or what the hell Mindy was talking about.

“Okay,” Mindy sighed, sitting up straight as she got serious about this topic. “Do you remember the Stab movie that came out last year?”

“Oh, yeah, the one the Knives Out guy directed,” Liv said, seeming to know exactly what Mindy was talking about. Sam was still lost but decided to just wait and see where they were going with this. “You know, I actually really liked that one.”

“Of course you did, you have terrible taste.” Sam rolled her eyes as Liv and Mindy had their little argument, even when she was a kid Mindy the habit of being a bit of a movie snob. “The point is the hardcore Stab fans hated it.”

Sam sighed, beginning to tune Mindy out as she rambled on and on about why the fans hated the movie. She didn’t really care about a shitty sequel to a relatively basic franchise. She was hoping Mindy actually had a point to all this and her random movie knowledge about Stab would actually be useful.

“What’s wrong with elevated horror?” Amber asked, joining in on the conversation.

Mindy then went on to rant about how elevated horror was great, but it wasn’t Stab. The only reason Sam had some semblance of an idea as to what elevated horror was because even as a kid Tara loved that stuff. As Mindy said, Stab was a typical slasher whodunit type of movie, Stab wasn’t elevated horror.

“Come on, it’s just a movie,” Sam sighed, rolling her eyes. She had to speak up, she couldn’t stand listening to them argue about movies and their deeper meaning, they were just movies, they were in the real world where her sister was really attacked.

“No, it’s not,” Mindy said instantly. “To some people the original is their favorite thing in the world.” Sam couldn’t wrap her head around that, she got liking movies, but not loving one so much someone would begin to blur a movie with real life. “The movie that made them love horror. The movie that mom or dad showed them when they were ten and bonded them together.” Once again, Sam got that, she understood bonding with someone over a movie and both enjoying that. “And god help anyone who fucks with that special memory, who makes a movie that disrespects it.”

Sam could sort of understand that as well. She truly understood loving a movie growing up and then a few years later someone deciding to cash in on that love by making a sequel or spin-off or something involving those characters and that world. It rarely worked out, it was usually made as a cash grab and not for the fans, then the new fans had a habit of hating it. Being pissed about a bunch of shitty sequel movies to your childhood favorite didn’t give someone the right to go around dressed up like the killer from the movies. That’s where Mindy was losing Sam. Sam didn’t get how someone could take a simple movie so far.

“It sounds like,” Mindy continued, getting up from her seat before Sam could even think about interrupting her again. “Our killer is writing his own version of Stab Eight but doing it as a requel.” Mindy raised her hands, nodding to herself, clearly proud of her theory.

Sam would admit, it was a good theory, that didn’t answer her original question though. “Which is?” Dewey asked. Sam was glad he still didn’t get it; she didn’t want to ask Mindy again.

Mindy sighed, clapping her hands together as she tried to contain her clear irritation at them not getting it. “See, you can’t just reboot a franchise from scratch anymore, the fans won’t stand for it. Black Christmas, Childs Play, Flatliners,” she began gesturing around the room at her friends. “That shit doesn’t work! But you can’t just do a straight sequel either. You got to build something new but not too new or the internet goes bug fucking nuts,” she rolled her eyes.

“It’s got to be a part of an ongoing storyline, even if the storyline shouldn’t have been ongoing in the first place. New main characters, yes,” she gestured around the room as if all of them were the new main characters. “But supported by and related to legacy characters,” she pointed at Dewey. “Not quite a reboot, not quite a sequel. Like, the new Halloween, Saw, Terminator, Jurassic Park, Ghostbusters, fuck, even Star Wars! It always, always, goes back to the original,” she picked up the first Stab movie to help emphasize what she meant.

Sam was beginning to fully understand what Mindy was trying to say. “Are you telling me,” Sam started. “That I’m caught in the middle of fan fucking fiction?” she couldn’t believe this, it was even more insane than she ever imagined. She figured someone was pissed because she was Billy’s daughter not because they were hurt that the sequel to their favorite movie was total garbage.

“Not just in the middle Sam,” Mindy said, a lot calmer than she had been than when she was rambling about the movies. “You’re the star.” Sam could only stare at Mindy, her mouth slightly agape. She knew she was the reason Tara was attacked but she didn’t think she was the reason all this was happening.

“So, not to put like to fine a point on it,” Liv said. “But according to requel rules, who’s next?” Sam looked at Liv, her eyes coasting across everyone else. She wanted to figure out who the killer was but knowing who the next victim might be was just as important.

“Going by the pattern,” Mindy said slowly. “Whoever it is has to be connected to someone that came before.”

They all slowly turned to look at Dewey, he was the only one connected to the original killings. “I’m starting to regret coming,” Dewey said. Sam knew she told Dewey he was probably a target as well, but she didn’t realize how true her words might have been.

“Jesus, my mom is a character in one of them,” Wes said, sitting up a little straighter.

“No one cares about the shitty inferior sequels Wes,” Minday said with an eyeroll. “You’re safe.” She turned her attention to her brother. “With Randy as our uncle though, you and I are probably screwed.

“Wait, what?” Chad asked. Despite literally being Mindy’s twin, he didn’t share the same passion for horror and movies that she did. It seemed as though he didn’t realize that being the nephew of one of the only survivors of the original attacks put a target on his back.

“Or you’re the killer,” Richie began, laughing Mindy’s theories off. “And this whole elaborate monologue is just to cover your tracks.

“I think it’s pretty clear who the killer is at this point,” Mindy said, laughing off Richie’s accusation.

“Who?” Sam asked. She was staring at Mindy, she had no idea who the killer could be, she didn’t know how Mindy could figure it out so quickly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Amber said, interrupting whatever Mindy was about to say. Everyone looked at Amber, but her glare was solely focused on you.

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. You didn’t seem happy that you were being accused but you certainly didn’t seem surprised. “Are you serious? What’s my motive?” you shrugged.

Amber shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re dating Tara.”

“Never trust the love interest,” Mindy mumbled.

You snapped your gaze from Amber to Mindy, you actually seemed hurt that she was agreeing with Amber. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” you gestured, looking around the room. Sam did the same, seeing everyone staying silent, all of them either looking at the floor or at you like you were the prime suspect, the only one who looked the slightest bit guilty was Liv, she refused to look at you, opting to keep her eyes on the floor.

“If I can’t have her, no one will,” Amber said. “Classic motive.”

“The thing is,” you leaned forward, glaring back at Amber just as intently. “I already have her.” Despite Sam’s feelings on you she had to side with you there, you were already dating Tara, had been for a while now. There was no reason for you to attack Tara, there was no one for you to be jealous of and this wasn’t some twisted version of unrequited love.

“Maybe you’re threatened.”

“By who? You?” you scoffed, literally laughing at the idea of being threatened by Amber “Please! As if.”

“Tara knows you’re not good enough.” Amber smirked, her eyes taking on a dangerous look. Sam had no idea what happened to warrant the animosity between you and Amber, but it was very clear where Amber stood regarding you.

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, but Sam could swear she caught a glimmer of doubt in your eye. She didn’t think you necessarily believe Amber’s words but there was probably a part of you that truly didn’t think you were good enough for Tara, that she deserved better than anything you could offer her.

“What could you possibly offer her?”

“You’re trying to get me to doubt my relationship,” you kept your voice low as you pointed at Amber. “I don’t know why,” you shook your head. “It won’t work though. Tara’s love is the one thing I have never doubted.” Sam hated to admit it, but she admired your devotion to Tara and your commitment to each other.

“Why are you still here?” Amber continued to poke. “You always talk about how much you hate this place, you literally despise this town.” Amber leaned forward, staring right into your eyes. So why are you still here?”

“For Tara!” you shot to your feet. “I stayed for her,” your voice cracked. Everyone got silent, all of them dropping their eyes to the floor, except for Amber; Sam seemed to be the only other one willing to still look at you.

“I was actually going to say Sam was the prime suspect,” Mindy was the first to speak up. Sam’s eyes widened; her mouth dropped open as she stared at Mindy. “Daughter of the original mastermind,” Mindy looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. “It makes sense,” she shrugged.

“But you,” she shifted her gaze to you. “You have nothing and no one, your parents abandoned you, you were a troubled teen, hated this small town, until magically you got your shit together, turning your life around, then began dating Tara, who just happens to be Sam’s sister. You knew Sam before, no?” you only acknowledged her with a glare. “The perfect suspect, one that’s seemingly unsuspecting.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. Sam watched as you looked around the room, seeing how no one argued with Amber’s accusation or Mindy’s logic. “Fuck you,” you spit out before storming out of the house, making sure to slam the door behind you.

“Yeah, because that doesn’t scream guilty,” Amber mumbled under her breath. “Well, this has been fun.” Amber stood up from her seat.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

Amber rolled her eyes. “Home. Unless you want to accuse anymore of us?” Amber gestured around before making her way out of the house without a goodbye.

Wes was the next to go but unlike Amber he actually gave a short goodbye to everyone before quickly running out the door. Last was Liv, she gave Chas a quick kiss, saying something about having to go to work and then she left as well.

Sam sighed, figuring it was time they left as well, she didn’t want to overstay her welcome after basically accusing the entire friend group of murder and after sort of being accused by Mindy. “Well, that went well,” Sam said, as she, Richie, and Dewey stepped outside.

Dewey gave a small shrug. “Now, what’s your plan?” Dewey asked.

“Hopefully food,” Richie mumbled.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. Gathering everyone together had been simultaneously useful and not. They now had a theory on what the killer was doing, they knew his victims were those related to legacy characters, but they still weren’t any closer to knowing who the killer was.

“I need to get back to the hospital,” Sam sighed. Even if Tara didn’t want to talk to her, she needed to try. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Tara alone in the hospital too long, especially overnight, even if that meant sleeping in a chair outside her room or in the waiting room.

“I was hoping for something besides hospital food,” Richie groaned.

Sam sighed, she really didn’t want to waste time going to get food. “I can give you a ride to the hospital,” Dewey offered.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

Dewey nodded. “Yeah, it’ll give me the chance to ask some questions anyway.”

Sam tossed her keys to Richie. Richie didn’t waste time, giving Sam a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off towards the car. Richie had started and pulled away before Sam and Dewey had even started walking to Dewey’s truck.

“A text!” someone yelled, stopping Dewey in his tracks as he started to walk towards his truck. Dewey turned around and Sam peered over his shoulder seeing a woman in a colorful business suit approaching him. “You let me know in a text!” she continued, walking right up to Dewey and slapping him.

“You were on air,” Dewey weakly defended. That’s when Sam realized who this was, Gale Weathers.

“How do you know that?”

Dewey opened his mouth, then suddenly paused. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit he still watched his ex-wife’s morning show. Sam couldn’t fault him for that it was either really sweet or really depressing, she was starting to think maybe a bit of both.

“How did you find me?” Dewey settled on, crossing his arms.

“I tracked your phone,” Gale said without shame.

“You tracked my-are you insane?”

Gale rolled her eyes. “I needed to find you and it was the quickest way,” she shrugged. “Who’s this?” Gale turned to Sam, seeming to finally notice her for the first time.

“Sam Carpenter,” Sam introduced herself. “My sister was attacked.

Gale tilted her head, her eyes instantly softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry. Do we know anything yet? What about the second victim?”

“Vince Schnieder,” Dewey said. “He’s Stu Macher’s nephew.”

“He attacked my sister because I’m Billy Loomis’s daughter,” Sam added. Gale’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head at hearing this information. Sam hated the fact that she was getting used to revealing that information. “Somehow the killer knows and now he’s going after those related to the original killings.”

“What did you just say?” Gale whispered, her eyes taking on what Sam could only describe as a look of fear.

Sam couldn’t blame her for being scared, Gale probably didn’t come back to town and expect to be even more in danger. “This psycho seems to be obsessed with the original movie and so disappointed in the ones that have followed, he’s decided to make his own,” Sam rolled her eyes. She still thought it was ridiculous someone was doing all this because of a movie.

“She’s related to Billy,” Dewey said, pointing at Sam. “So, he went after her sister. Then Stu’s nephew,” he shook his head. “He’s going after anyone related to the legacy characters, anyone related to us.”

Sam watched curiously as Gale pulled out her phone, furrowing her brow at whoever was calling her. Sam couldn’t make out who it was before Gale declined the call. Not a second later her phone buzzing again. Gale once again declined the call, rolling her eyes.

Gale let out a frustrated sigh when her phone vibrated again, but this time it didn’t seem to be a phone call. Gale furrowed her brow as she tapped her phone. She furrowed her brow as she stared down at the screen, then her eyes quickly widened as if she realized something. “Oh, god,” Gale whispered.

“What is it?” Dewey asked.

“Oh god, oh god,” Gale continued to whisper under her breath. She quickly typed on her phone, dialing a number. Sam furrowed her brow; she had a feeling she didn’t want to know who had been trying to call Gale and what they sent her. “Dammit!” Gale screamed at her phone when whoever she was calling didn’t answer.

“What? What’s going on?”

“We need to go.”

“What? Where?”

Gale ignored Dewey’s questions as she dialed 911. Sam’s eyes widened; she didn’t know what was happening but clearly it wasn’t good. Gale began speaking quickly, rattling off an address Sam didn’t recognize it seemed as soon as someone answered. “Yes, it’s an emergency!” Gale yelled into the phone. “Tell the sheriff it’s about Ghostface! The next victim is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Sam’s eyes widened at hearing your name. “We need to go,” Gale said. “Now!” Dewey seemed just as confused as Sam felt but he didn’t question it as he took off towards his truck, Gale right behind him. Sam followed their lead, running off after them. She jumped in the backseat, just barely getting the door closed before Dewey took off, his wheels squealing against the pavement. Sam gripped the sides of the front seat, staring out the windshield, silently hoping they’d get to you in time.

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream #scream v #scream 5 #a legacies secret #sam carpenter

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees. “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up. They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare). Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Again? Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed. “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted. “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody. I’m quieter than both of you. I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me. Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked. “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all. “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited. That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered. Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him. It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny? He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched. He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out. “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted. So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once. Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things). You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed. You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that. Mysterious. Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else. He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you. Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel. You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you. You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you. Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off. For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service. Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you. It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did. That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied. Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa. You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked. You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since. Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that. Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it. But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say. Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else. But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old! These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you. That made you sad. But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper. “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back. Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this. They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose. He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed. “Quick and painless. Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it. "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion. "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation. Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to. It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations. After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment. There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed. Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it. It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could. Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive. It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him. It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut. Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you. He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later. “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration. “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed. “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget. He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer? You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part. Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off. Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place. The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way. But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to. Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible. In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time. Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold. “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different. More… exhausted. “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath. For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away. Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out. The door slammed behind her. Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral. You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter. “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little. Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it. He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible. Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across. You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that. For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever. “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something. “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh. “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now. Probably not, right? He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised. “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared. He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you. Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too. He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off. You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it. “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag. “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced. “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh? “Why don’t you just let me go? Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come. “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset. "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly. "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee. You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered. "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had. “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly. "You're good. You're sweet. Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding. "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank. "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears. "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted. “You understand that? I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped. “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that. “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love? Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No! Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him. “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine. That’s fair. But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you. I know that! I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you! Okay? So just… just stop talking! Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke. “It was last night, after you left,” he explained. “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued. “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel. “It’s cute, really. I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react. “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet. Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger. “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply. “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay? So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar. Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him. “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started. The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before. Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though? Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong. It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut. “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered. Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought. “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank. “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped. “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away. But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you. Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment. It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston. “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment. “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been. “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other. “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit. “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper. “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled. “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth. “I know,” he promised. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha? Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return. It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined. You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer. Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that. Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you. And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress. You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you. But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would. You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all. “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious? It probably was. But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that. “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me. Hold me. Take care of me. And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons. The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself. "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine. "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs. You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though. He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds. "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours. Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless. Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside. It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were. You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood. "Baby, you… are you— is this your—? Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me. I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good! M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples. He smiled, just a little. "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly. "What am I gonna do with you, little girl? You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs. He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before. “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.

“Yeah?” he repeated. “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg. “Um— please? Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here. “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat. “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets. You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight. And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back. He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—? Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed. "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking. Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive. Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it. "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls. You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all. It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before. “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb. It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet. “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot. "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation. He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress. And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped. When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously. "Kinda sour."

"Really? I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly. "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me. Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay? Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago. But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening. It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming. You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours. "See how you're takin' all'a me? God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet. You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this? This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt? This was ecstasy, bliss. And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear. "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient. Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you. "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you. I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper. “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted. “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined. His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked. “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously. It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything. Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion. "Hear that? How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust. You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth. "I asked you a question," he reminded you. "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh? Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked. "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You don't need to think. I don't need you to think. You can just be my fucktoy, okay? You can just be my slut. Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything. Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it). You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different. Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you). This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face. “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone. “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that. Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey? You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better. “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it. Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside. You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin. “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time. You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence. He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n

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tired-duckling · 2 months

Text

Wanna bite? (WBB players x Reader)

Ok I’m so ready to come thru w the prompt I wrote last night hihi: players and you try the “Tabs” chocolate that went viral all over tiktok which is an aphrodisiac. I can’t write smut well rn so pls enjoy some scenarios hehe.

Paige Bueckers: edited

New addition/s: Kate Martin :))

Note: topics related to consent and intimacy, we do NOT have bad miscommunication on here people !!

Paige Bueckers

You came across a tiktok about them, ordered a pack and told Paige about it. She was shocked at first when finding out what exactly was special about the chocolate you ordered, but was excited to try nonetheless.

Both of you agreed to try it out first, only one of you would have the chocolate. To properly gauge the effects and all. It came after a few days in a little box, you were home when the package arrived so you excitedly opened it up. You read the instructions it came with, it said the recommended amount is half of the bar for an adult and that the effects can be felt around 15-30 minutes after consuming the chocolate. You pulled out your phone to check the time, it read 3:40 pm, Paige is usually back by 4pm these days. As if right on cue, Paige texted you that she was on the way back from practice. Smiling at her text, you replied “Good, because I have a surprise for you when you get home”.

You thought to surprise her with this experience so you gathered some courage and opened the box. You opened a bar, ate half and tossed the other half in the fridge. You kept the box and the other bars before hopping into the shower. “It would take a few minutes till these would affect me anyway”, you thought, unprepared for what it truly felt like in the next minutes.

When Paige got home, she called for you right after shutting the door closed. She heard the shower running so she figured you were in the bathroom. She set her things down before heading into the kitchen, craving a sweet treat. She saw the inconspicuous half eaten bar of chocolate, and thought it was the perfect amount so she munched on it immediately. Unbeknownst to her, you were already feeling the effects of the bar in the shower.

You breathed in deeply as you started to feel hot, a heat just enveloping your body, it was a different but welcome feeling. You stepped out of the shower quickly, feeling that you might faint from the steam of the hot water along with the building heat from your core. Quickly patting yourself dry with a towel, wrapping another around yourself after. You turned your head towards the door, hearing footsteps, smiling in relief as you opened the door calling for Paige.

Paige walked into the bedroom, munching on the last bite of the chocolate. She smiles as she sees you at your current state “Hey baby-“, she greeted you before cutting herself off at your widened eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”, she asks. You shook your head, trying to calm yourself, “Nothing it’s just- P, did you get that from the fridge baby?”, you ask pointing to the wrapper in her hand. Paige’s brows furrowed as she answered, “Yeah, it tastes good but Tru Fru tastes better. Why? Is there a problem?”. You chuckle, knowing full well about her addiction to Tru Fru before looking up at her as you took the wrapper from her hand, “Do you remember the chocolate I told you about? The one from Tiktok?”. She nodded as she pulled you closer by the waist, “Yeah, the ones that make you horny”, she said with a sly smile.

You nodded, “Yeah those, they arrived today actually”, you said abashedly. “I ate half of it after texting you and left the other half in the fridge”, you finished as you showed her the logo on the wrapper. Paige’s eyes widened as it clicked on her head, you could tell she was about to panic so you tried to calm her down. “Baby it’s fine, the recommended amount is half a bar so I think we would be fine, hopefully”, you added lowly by the end.

Paige nodded as she calmed down before looking down to you, “Are you ok though?”, she asks her eyes full of concern. “You mentioned you have taken your half a while ago, meaning you would be feeling the effects right now”, she muttered lowly as she stares into your eyes. Nodding your head quickly as you have been trying to play it cool while explaining to Paige what happened. “It feels weird, but like in a good way?”, you answered in a whisper. Gasps leaving your lips as the throbbing heat in your core gets hotter, Paige’s touch on your body not helping your case either. It makes you want to take the towel off, it was hot, too hot even. Breathing in slightly harder as your grip on Paige’s shirt tightened, feeling the pressured heat reach your abdomen. Paige’s hands, roaming your towel clad body before settling back to your waist. “You ok baby?”, she asks with a small smirk on her face. You hummed yes, looking into her eyes, “Hope you can handle me P”, you say teasingly with a sly smile. Paige’s smirk widens at your words, “Hmm yeah, I might do more than just handle you sweetheart”, before giving you a deep kiss.

Kate Martin (The muncher)

It is honestly diabolical at this point how addicted she is to seeing how the chocolate affects you. After finishing the first bar, she immediately ordered another box which you scolded her for before letting it go after she pulled out the puppy eyes and pout.

While trying out the chocolate, you both consumed half each, which honestly with Kate’s stamina and overall want for you made it impossible to have her take a break between rounds. You remembered being awfully sore the whole day after with Kate being the cutest and sweetest partner by showering you with care and attention as she made sure that you had your rest and have eaten well. It was decided by both of you (mostly you), that Kate would not have any more of the chocolate for both of your sanity, and mostly out of concern of your ability to walk.

Though ever since she saw how needy you were and how pretty you looked as you desperately tried to get any release or touch from her, she knew she was going to have to convince you to try it again. She meticulously planned, making sure to not annoy you or do anything to frustrate you before popping in a request.

“Hey so, do you remember those chocolate bars we bought from that Tiktok?”, she asked you as she tried to pull off a nonchalant tone. You raised your brows as you watched her put away the dishes after dinner. “Uhh yeah, I do. Why?”, you asked skeptically. She wiped her hands on a dish towel before turning to face you, “I was thinking we should try them out again”, she said lowly, shrugging her shoulders as if to say it’s a small request.

You chuckle before clearing your throat, “Baby, we agreed that we wouldn’t try them again-“, she cuts you off. “No, I remember this conversation, we both agreed that I would not have it again”, she said putting her hand up before pointing to you. “Which means you, could still have it”, she finishes with a wink.

You scoff before realizing, yeah she was right. You both negotiated to also not waste the money spent on the bars that it would only be Kate who would have to abstain from the aphrodisiac. Quickly shaking your head, “But babe, you are called to go to headquarters tomorrow”, you try to reason. Kate shook her head, “Cancelled, had it rescheduled. But if you feel uncomfortable with it, it’s fine-“, you cut her off this time.

“No! It’s just-“, you paused as you tried to calm yourself down. “I just don’t like the feeling of being out of control of what I’m doing”, you confessed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do trust you and I know you wouldn’t push for anything I wouldn’t want. But it’s just harder for me to let go of this want to control everything. I really liked our first experience but I can’t lie and say it didn’t slightly freak me out”, you muttered lowly by the end.

Kate pulled you close to her, pulling you up to sit you down on the kitchen counter. She pulls your face into her hands, her eyes full of concern as she looked into your eyes. “I appreciate the honesty baby, I’m grateful that you trust me and I’m sorry if you felt pressured to have this experience with me once more. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, I thought you were just hesitant about it because of how sore you were the morning after”, she says in a low voice. “I should have asked you the morning after, how you felt about the experience. I’m sorry baby”, she says in a soft whisper as she caresses your face.

“No, I did like it. It just freaked me out a little that’s all. I actually want to do it again, it’s just-“, you paused once more trying to piece together what you needed. “I think I need you to be more verbal with me when I’m under it”, you say in a low mutter. Kate nodded, understanding what you meant, “Of course, whatever it is you need to be comfortable”, she says before continuing, “So how do you want me to do it? Do you want me to narrate everything I would do, give you instructions?”, she asks further. You tilted your head as you thought about it, “I think both would help, to give me a slight sense of control over what I’m doing”, you say with a small smile. Kate’s eyes brightened once she sees your lips turn upwards slightly. “Of course, princess. Will even give you the best aftercare of your life every time after”, she says dramatically by the end.

You giggled at her antics resting your arms on her shoulders before leaning down to whisper, “So where did we keep those chocolates again?”. She pulls back a little, “Right now baby? Are you sure”, she asks you, looking into your eyes, her heated gaze trained on you. You nodded before tilting your head once more, “Why? Too tired to handle me today?”, you added with a tease. She scoffs this time, picking you up from off the counter and hauling you over her shoulder making you squeal. “Kate! Put me down, I can walk!”, you exclaimed with a giggle. She chuckles at your words, “We are going to change that real quick baby”, Kate walked towards the bedroom, knowing full well she kept the chocolates in her nightstand.

(genuinely feel like Kate Martin is for the oldest daughter lesbians out there who need to always feel like they have their shit together or are in control, so yeah, sorry if this scenario is too realistic)

Hey guysss, sorry my brain is running out of creative juices so pls forgive me for this slow turn out, I also want to try and improve what i'm publishing because i do feel somewhat disappointed in my work when I know i could do better. Hope you guys enjoy!

#paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #wcbb x reader #kate martin x reader

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mellifiedprincess · 1 year

Text

hey queens :) i do not know how i feel about this one, but i had a little urge to write something and this is what i came up with. teehee. so pls let me know your thoughts! i’m also thinking about writing a little smutty fic about mr. ethan landry, but i’m not that good at smut so we’ll see.

ethan landry x reader

Fuck Ups and Make Ups

“Why do you look so….dead?” You would usually laugh at how blunt Mindy is, but today. Today you were not in a laughing mood. You were having one of the worsts days ever.

“Unfortunately, I’m not dead yet. But! If someone wants to take me out back and shoot me, I would not oppose.” You deadpan.

You watch as Mindy and Anika’s eyes widen, and Tara just looks at you even more confused than before. “Yeah, like your pretty boy would let anyone touch a hair on your head.” Chad states while texting someone. “Seriously though, what’s going on?” He asks as he puts his phone away, letting you know you have his full attention.

“Pretty boy is what’s going on!” You exclaim, slamming your head down on the picnic table. “Huh?”

You say something else, but it’s barely coherent. “Honey, you gotta lift your head up for us to understand you.”

You lift your head up and let out a huff, bringing your knees to your chest, you hug them tight to bring some form of comfort to yourself. “He likes someone else.” If the sadness in your voice wasn’t enough, the sad look on your face was, to make Chad want to get up, find Ethan, and knock some fucking sense into him.

For months. Months, the group has been trying to push Ethan to ask you out. It was so painfully obvious that you both had feelings for one another. And yes, you could ask him out yourself, but you were just too shy. You also didn’t really believe that he could actually like you back. I mean, he was literal perfection in your eyes.

“Why do you think that? Did something happen between you two?” Anika asks, moving from her spot on the ground to sit beside you, wrapping her arms around your body.

“I saw him talking to the new girl, Kennedy, in our sociology class yesterday, and they seemed to really be hitting it off. And then today, instead of sitting beside me, like he always does, he sat by her. I tried to talk to him after class, but he said he was busy and couldn’t talk to me right now and then rushed to catch up with Kennedy.” At this point you had a few tears fall. You were heartbroken by your pretty boy.

“I saw them together too! At our coffee spot, at our table. Like, why would he do that?” You let your head fall to Anika’s shoulder, and she places a chaste kiss to your head. “Why don’t we find out right now? Cause he’s on his way over here.” But before you could turn to look, Chad jumps up to block your view, and you feel Anika push your head back down to her shoulder.

“What’s up guys? I saw your text about Y/N, is she okay?” And for a few seconds, you felt relief. Relief that he did still care. Until you heard her. “Yeah, we had to cut our date short, so Ethan could play therapist.”

“I’m sorry, who are you again?” You could hear the bite in Chads tone. “Oh! I’m Kennedy. Ethan’s told me all about you guys. You must be the condescending alpha. It’s Chad, right?” If you could have seen Ethan’s face, you would have laughed. “Wait- I never said that.” Kennedy looks up at Ethan, fluttering her eyelashes and pouts her lips. “I’m just teasing E!” E? She’s known Ethan for two days and is already calling him by E?

“Can we go now? I’m sure whatever her name is can figure her shit out without you.” Your eyes only widen more. “Ethan, I really think you should talk to Y/N first.” Chad was almost begging Ethan not to leave with Kennedy. There’s a pregnant pause, but you couldn’t see what was going on due to Chad blocking your figure.

“Y/N’s an adult, she can’t rely on me for everything.” Ethan’s words hit you right in the chest. It hurt. It hurt so bad, you couldn’t breathe. Mindy noticed the state you were in and knew you couldn’t talk to Ethan right now. “What the fuck is your problem, dude?” She says as she stands up next to Chad.

“My problem is all of you! You’re all just pissed at me because I’m with someone who’s not Y/N. For months, you have all been on my dick about my feelings for her and how i need to man up and just tell her how I feel, how I need to go ahead and ask her out before it’s too late, but have you ever thought that I don’t fucking want to?” He was digging himself into a hole. He didn’t mean that, not at all. But to you it didn’t matter. He said what he said, and you heard all of it.

“You won’t have to worry about that anymore. Because I never want to see you again.” Ethan’s face pales when he finally notices you there. The fact that he just said all of that in front of you, makes him want someone to take him out back and shoot him. “Wait! Y/N, that didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.”

You almost laugh, and you would have if it weren’t for the doleful feeling in your chest and the tears falling from your eyes. “Leave her alone, man. You’ve said enough.” Chad places a firm hand on Ethan’s chest, stopping him from going after you. “I hope you’re happy. Cause you just lost the person who cares most about you in this world.” Tara’s words hit Ethan hard. He knew they were true, but it still hurt nonetheless.

But there was no way he was gonna let you go, not without fighting for you.

———

It had been two weeks. Two very long, sad weeks. Ethan was a mess, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. He still texted you every morning right when he woke up, and every night before he fell asleep. And every time, you would read his message, but never responded.

He hated himself for making you cry, and the look on your face is one he would never forget.

It was also hard for your friends to see how this effected the both of you. You barely left your bed. Only really leaving for classes. The one time you did leave for something other than that, was when Tara and Chad literally dragged you out of your room for a movie night.

Mindy told you that you were better off anyway, but she didn’t know Ethan like you did. You weren’t better off, and there were so many times you almost called him. Just to hear his voice, because it was the only thing that calmed you down after one of your night terrors. They had been more frequent as of late, probably to do with the fact you didn’t have your pretty boy anymore.

But, you never called. You never responded to any of his messages either. The words he spoke all those weeks ago, hurt you more than when Amber stood over your body, thinking she had killed you after her brutal attack.

And here you are now, sitting in front of your friends, who somehow convinced you to have a study picnic with them. They’ve barely looked at their textbooks and notes, too concerned about you to pay them any attention. You haven’t spoken barely a full sentence the whole time you’ve been with them, you have bags under your eyes, and you just don’t seem as glowy as you usually do. You looked exhausted.

“Staring me down won’t make you guys any more prepared for these exams coming up.” You state, not even bothering to look up from your notes. “We’re just worried about you Y/N/N. You just aren’t acting like yourself.” Anika’s voice is soft, almost like she’s afraid she’ll scare you off. “I just haven’t been getting enough sleep. I’ll be fine once exams are over with.”

They all knew you were lying. They all knew you were still heartbroken, and they all knew how much you missed your pretty boy.

…Which is why Chad texted him and told him where you were.

Ethan was in class when he got Chads text. Usually his phone would be off, but he’s had it on everyday since your fight just in case you finally texted him back.

“You better fix things with our pretty girl, she’s not okay and I’m only doing this because we all miss seeing her smile. She’s here studying at the quad with us, don’t fuck this up again.”

Ethan was jumping from his seat the second he finished reading the text. Catching a few odd looks from the people around him, but he didn’t care. He just wanted his girl, who was never officially his girl, back.

Everything he thought he was gonna say left his mind as soon as he got to you. You looked absolutely miserable, and when your friends looked up at him, they couldn’t believe how miserable he looked too.

You held your face in your hands as tears of exhaustion fell down your cheeks. You felt like a baby. But you finally hit your breaking point, sobbing uncontrollably. You couldn’t breath and all you wanted was the comfort of Ethan’s arms around you. “Y/N/N? What do you need us to do?” Tara tried to comfort you the best she could, running her hands up and down your arms.

“Can someone please get Ethan? I just really need him right now.” At your words everyone looked up at him with a look of, ‘we will kill you if you don’t fix this.’

He almost tripped over his own feet trying to get to you as quick as possible. “I’m already here, angel.” He said softly as he kneeled down beside you. He then slowly removed your hands from your eyes, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his shoulders and shove your face into his neck.

“I’m gonna take you back to my place, okay?” Ethan could tell you’ve barely slept, and you always said you got the best sleep with him in his bed. “Okay.” You mumble out, before pulling away from the comfort of Ethan’s embrace.

———

After bidding your friends goodbye, Ethan grabs your hand in his and doesn’t let go until you’ve made it inside his dorm. His eyes follow your form as you make your way to his room, he had so much he wanted to say to you, but was afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

When you reach his room, you go straight for his closet, wanting to be out of the uncomfortable jeans and crop top. Your hands delicately run across Ethan’s shirts, missing the feeling of the material on your skin. It’s dumb, you think. How a simple piece of clothing can bring you so much comfort, all because of who it belonged to.

“Oh, here! I put your favorite t-shirt away so nothing would happen to it. I’ll be right back.” Ethan hands you the old graphic tee, before going into his adjoined bathroom. You quickly change and sit down on his bed, already feeling the tension leaving your body.

When Ethan returns, he’s also changed into comfier clothes. He’s also holding a pack of makeup wipes, that he always kept there just in case you needed them.

He sits against the headboard, eyes meeting yours before patting his lap, signaling for you to take perch in. “Come here.” He says softly, dark eyes never leaving yours. You tiredly make your way over to him, not really knowing what to expect. But he only opens the pack of make-up wipes and with a touch so soft, you barely feel it, he wipes your ruined makeup off. And even though he’s done this for you a million times before, this time feels so incredibly different.

Ethan thinks he’s somehow fucked up again, as he noticed the slight wobble of your lips, followed by tears gathering in your eyes once again. He drops the wipe, and cups your face instead. You feel the pads of his thumbs wipe your fallen tears and you can’t help but ask, “Why did you say it?”

And he just looks at you. Big brown doe eyes, staring right into your soul.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He gives you a sad smile, rubbing his knuckles against your cheek. “And when I realized how in love with you I actually am, I got scared. And I’m still scared, because if there’s one thing I’m really good at, it’s fucking up all the good things I have in my life. It’s not an excuse for how I acted, and I wish I would have just told you how I felt instead of causing all of this. Instead of causing tears to fall down your pretty face.” You could tell by the conviction in his voice he meant every word he said.

“I just-“ He pauses and continues to look at you, waiting for you to reject him. Waiting for you to tell him it’s too late and the damage is done, and there’s no repairing it.

Instead, you lean forward and place a hand on his chest for support, before placing your lips on his.

Ethan stops breathing for a few seconds. He couldn’t believe he was finally kissing the girl of his dreams. He couldn’t believe that a fuck up like him, got someone like you. And the kiss. The kiss was just how you both imagined it would be. Slow at first, learning the others patterns, but once you figured it out, it became more heated. You could feel the others want, you could feel every ounce of love the two of you had for each other.

After a few more pecks, you pull away. “I’m in love with you too, E.” Ethan’s face lights up, and he just smiles at you. “Does this mean I can officially call you my girlfriend?” You giggle and nod with a smile as big as his. “Yes, pretty boy. You can call me your girlfriend.”

Ethan wraps his arms around you, and moves your body to lay down with him. Your head immediately going to his chest as you feel his fingers run through your hair. “Well I have a lot of making up to do, so to start off, let’s get you to sleep. Because I know you haven’t been sleeping like you should.” “Do I look that awful?” You ask, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

“No, sweet girl. You look beautiful. But I know you won’t go to anyone else about your night terrors, and your body language is off. Now, just close your eyes and go to sleep. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay.” And for a second it’s completely silent. Ethan thinking you had already fallen asleep places a kiss to your forehead and brings you closer to his chest. “I love you so much.” He whispers, finally closing his tired eyes.

“I love you too.”

#ethan landry x reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry #scream vi

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mvltisstuff · 1 year

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hi!! i use tumblr on safari - so i’m unable to answer any messages - but i would like to put in a request for conrad fisher x fem! reader smut!

if your comfortable, could you do a imagine with an innocent/virgin reader that is constantly flustered by conrad?

thank you so much!! <<33

champagne & sunshine - c.f**

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i get so nervous posting smut (for literally no reason😭), but i still hope you enjoy this 🩶 warning for smut.

the bonfires were always a good time, usually. once you grow up, the hype of them dies down a bit. belly begged y/n to come, being her older sister figure. it was y/n’s birthday, so belly convinced her that it would be fun. besides, y/n’s mom had been letting her drink today, as long as she was home and with close people. y/n figured she’d leave it at that, not bothering to take anything at the party.

she threw one of the cans in the bag at the corner of the beach, avoiding the full boxes of hard seltzer as her eye landed on conrad and jeremiah entering the beach. luckily, the fire wasn’t bright enough to illuminate her bright red cheeks. she walked away from the drinks, turning away from conrad but also trying to make herself seem noticeable.

she’d grown up with the conklins and fishers next door, but she always had the biggest crush on conrad. every single time he walked in, her heart raced and almost everyone knew it. belly always teased her, someone noticing before she even knew she liked him.

conrad had always had his eyes on y/n. conrad, y/n, and steven had been the oldest, so it was usually him and her together. she acted like she barely knew him, when he probably knew her better than anyone else. now that they were both eighteen, legal adults, they could do pretty much whatever they pleased. somehow, y/n still found herself blushing like a little girl. conrad was one of the first to show her any attention. boys never cared about her at home, and he always made her feel wanted. she was always a shadow to her friends, who had guys clinging to them. she sat around with other people talking about sex and other stuff that y/n pretended to know about. it made her a little bit embarrassed, but who really cares? her whole friend group would laugh at her humorously if they found out she was a virgin, but again, who cares, right?

it wasn’t until she was sitting on the warm sand, feeling it in her hands as she slid them across the floor, that conrad sat next to her on the beach. the music was blaring, so y/n brought herself away to just observe people for a little bit. someone must’ve had the same idea if they tread all the way over to sit with her.

“you got dragged here, too?” conrad asks first.

“belly, jeremiah for you, i assume?”

“the one and only,” conrad laughs, as he kicks away an empty bottle. “you’re not drinking anything?”

“nah, i don’t really feel like it tonight. i’d rather just enjoy my birthday sober, unlike everyone else,” she tells him, pointing to the stumbling people surrounding the fire.

“you’re not the only one,” conrad says. “so it’s just us, huh?”

“y-yeah,” y/n stutters. “i mean, i didn’t even bother getting all dressed up for this shit.”

“i think you look beautiful either way,” he says, and when y/n looks up, his eyes are softly on hers, refusing to crack the shell between them. y/n pauses, looking at conrad dumbfounded. she never has boys call her beautiful, let alone the one she’s been hopelessly in love with for years. but, they always say love hits you when you least expect it. y/n thought that was a lie, but she really believed it for now.

“you too, connie,” she spits out, not bothering to change the adjective for him because everyone is beautiful. he adjusts himself to sit closer to y/n, trying to relieve some of the tension. his eyes can’t help but wander across her body, taking in every part of her that’s breathtaking to him. and the cropped tank top and shorts that she’s wearing isn’t fucking helping his case either. she’d be lying if she wasn’t checking him out, too. his sharp jawline, his hands, his radiant eyes, his lips could never be missed by y/n. someone this pretty deserves to be looked at, they both think without speaking.

“do you wanna head out? come to my place for a bit?” conrad asks, standing up and holding his hand out as she nods up at him, anticipating a night alone.

before y/n can even begin to think straight, their lips are crashed together in his car. she’s leaning over the cup holders in the center, and her hands are against his face. his hands are placed on her hips as he can’t help but steer his mind away from his tongue in her mouth. he never in a million years thought he’d see this side of her, and she never thought she’d see it in herself. she’s kissed guys before, but never this intimately. conrad pulls away, smiling against her lips before connecting them again. every single time this happens, y/n swears her heart skips a beat in the best way possible. like their lips set off fireworks in the car. they decided to leave the vehicle, climbing up the stairs, trying not to disturb the moms watching a movie. conrad places his hands on her thighs, lifting her up and placing y/n gently on his bed. he climbs up as well, letting her legs wrap around him as their kiss does nothing but intensify.

her hands roam all around his body, his waist, his shoulders, his neck. the only time they separate is for a breath of air, just until they can return again. conrad’s wander over her chest, placing one of his hands to squeeze her breasts.

“is this ok?” conrad waits for confirmation until he gets a yes. after, in response, y/n tugs off conrad’s shirt, discarding it to the floor somewhere in his room. her hands run down his back. “if you want to stop, tell me and we’ll stop the second you say it.”

“ok,” she peeps out. “but if this does go any further, i’ve never done any of… this, before.”

“we can stop, y/n, whenever you want.”

“no! no, i want to keep going. can we just, go slower, maybe?”

“anything you need,” conrad reassures her before moving down the waistband of her shorts. “can i take these off?”

“yes,” she tells him, clearly and assertively as he takes off the tank top, too, leaving her in just a gray bra on his bed.

“have you ever… ever been eaten out before?” he asks. she shakes her head no, slightly embarrassed so she puts her head down to cover it, but conrad sees right through it. “hey, look at me. you’re ok, i promise. can i keep going?”

“yeah, please,” she says, squirming in discomfort from her own arousal. the feeling is unfamiliar, wanting someone to touch her so bad as it’s at her fingertips. someone willing to love her is right in front of her. conrad begins to peel off y/n’s underwear, throwing it off the bed like his shirt, ending up somewhere on the floor. she pulls her legs apart, spreading them as conrad’s eyes fall deeper.

“god, y/n,” he says. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“conrad,” she begs, as he flattens himself down trying to ignore his own erection. he wants to pleasure her first, and knowing he’s the first one too might boost his ego a bit. but conrad would never admit that.

his face is an inch away from her pussy, beginning to kiss her inner thighs as she groans from the teasing. finally, his tongue makes contact with y/n’s slit, gathering up her arousal before swirling it around her clit. y/n’s head falls back onto the pillow again in pure pleasure, letting out a quiet moan for the first time. “oh, fuck yes,” she speaks out, making conrad try to contain a smile. he places his tongue on her clit again, moving his flat tongue up and down. he switches between those movements and wrapping his lips around it, sucking on her clit, causing her to fail at concealing her moans. y/n’s hand moves down to conrad’s hair, trying to ground herself on the bed from the ecstasy.

the second her climax starts rolling up onto her, her legs start shaking and that tells conrad that you’re close. “f-fuck, con- oh my god,” she pants out, trying to formulate words but failing. her orgasm creeps up and sends her over the edge, releasing a strong moan from her lips as she comes down from the high, his fingers are gently circling over her clit.

“that was, um, holy shit, that was amazing, conrad,” she smiles as he pulls himself back up to her.

“are you feeling alright?”

“better than ever,” she says, making conrad laugh as he moves over to his drawer. he pulls out the box of condoms before taking one out.

“do you wanna keep going?”

“yeah, i do.”

conrad moves back over, dropping his pants and rolling to condom on. y/n gazes at his length, wondering how she would be able to take it. with conrad here, she knew she would be ok, so they continued. he walks back over, pulling her legs apart and making eye contact with her again. “remember, we can always stop no matter what, ok? just say stop, and we can stop.” she nods and he leans in closer. he plants a sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away, it was her turn to smile against his lips.

once settled in between her legs, conrad begins to run his tip up her slit. he confirms that she’s doing alright and that she’s ready to keep going. after he’s aware, he slides his dick into her, making her nose scrunch and release a high moan.

“you ok?”

“yes,” she replies. “yeah, you can go faster.”

conrad speeds up his pace, thrusting himself into y/n. she didn’t feel outright pain, just discomfort. that discomfort soon turned into pleasure, causing her mouth to hang open. “you feel so good, y/n/n, god damn.”

y/n’s hand falls down to her clit, circling it until she starts to bring that now familiar feeling up. conrad continues to keep the same pace, not changing it to make her feel comfortable and in control, just as much as he is. “i’ve loved you for so fucking long,” he spits out, not thinking about his words. y/n heard him loud and clear, but she’s too distracted by her orgasm coming up.

“conrad i’m close,” she tells him.

“me too, baby,” he says, breathless. “come for me, y/n.”

her release leaves her with stars in her head, the feeling better than anything she’s ever experienced. she was always worrying about sex and what it might be like, but with conrad, he made it amazing for her. she knew he was the right guy. he brings himself down, leaning onto her as he releases himself into the condom. he pulls out of her, throwing away the condom and pulling his boxers back on. y/n grabs her underwear, as she stands up wobbly. her legs are weak from her two orgasms from conrad, making him chuckle in the corner.

“hey, um,” y/n starts. “thank you.”

“yeah, of course,” he stutters a bit, not sure of what to say but trying to still wrap his head around it. he means, he just had sex with the hottest girl in cousins, what is he supposed to say? “you know, i meant what i said. i’ve liked you so much, for a long time.”

she just stares at him, confirming that she’s not in some dream. “i’ve been in love with you since the day i first saw you on the beach,” conrad steps over to her. placing his hands back on her bare waist and kissing her passionately again. he pulls back again to sadly, break the kiss off.

“we should probably clean up a bit, before everyone comes back and yells at us for leaving,” he says, brushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. she nods, beginning to pull the rest of her clothes on. thank god she left that party when she did, or she would still love conrad, but never say it.

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krirebr · 6 months

Text

More Than This 4

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, a panic attack, p in v sex, sex in maybe not the best mindset, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I thought this was gonna be a short one. 😂

Gigantic thanks as always to @paperweight91 who helped me figure out what the problem was when I was really struggling to feel inspired on this one, and then later on when the narrative took a bit of a turn that I wasn't expecting, she helped me navigate it and come out the other side. Chelsea, you continue to be the very best!

And an additional hat tip to @thezombieprostitute, who left a comment on the last part that inspired part of Linda's visit here. Thanks, dear!!

Unsurprisingly probably, this is another sad one. But I hope it'll be worth it!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

“Hey, Steve. It’s me. Again. Your sister. Um, shit. Yeah, you’re at work now, aren’t you? Sorry, I still haven’t gotten used to the time difference. I got your texts, and, uh, everything is fine. I’m– I’m doing good. But I miss you. And it’d be nice to hear your voice. But I’m fine, I’m good, I promise. I just– I’ll try again soon. Love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and sighed, setting your phone down beside you. You hadn’t actually spoken to Steve since you’d gotten on the plane a week ago. Which was fine. You were doing fine. He’d texted you. And he was busy. You knew he was. It’d be easier, you thought if you were too. But everything had been unpacked. The housekeeper took care of all the upkeep of the house and you got the distinct impression that she didn’t much care for your “help,” so now when she was here you mostly tried to stay out of her way. Even Lola was getting tired of going for walks around the neighborhood.

You’d barely seen your husband since your disastrous attempt at sex. He’d been avoiding you, leaving early in the morning and coming home late at night. You hadn’t talked about what happened. You’d barely talked about anything.

You looked at your laptop on the coffee table and exited out of the WebMD entry on erectile dysfunction. That wasn’t helping. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, all you could do was think about what would happen to you if you couldn’t get Ransom to fuck you. If you didn’t get pregnant. You still hadn’t seen the contract and weren’t sure what the actual terms were, but you knew the consequences would be nothing good.

Steve had had an aunt on his mother’s side who’d been found in breach of contract and had her marriage dissolved. You never really knew her, but you remembered how Joseph talked about her, about the desperate arrangement she’d eventually had to settle for, the sadness in Steve’s eyes whenever she came up. That wouldn’t be you, couldn’t be you. You knew you wouldn’t even start to feel secure in your arrangement until that part of the contract had been fulfilled. You just needed to figure out how.

But, dwelling on it wasn’t helping. Googling possible causes of Ransom’s issue wasn’t helping (although it was better than listening to the voice in your head that wouldn’t stop telling you that he just didn’t want to touch you). You needed something to do. Back in LA, you’d worked part-time at an art gallery Steve had introduced you to. You’d mostly answered the phones and greeted people as they came in, but you’d liked it. There had to be something like that available in Boston. And at least trying to find it would give you something to focus on.

So you lost yourself in compiling a list of galleries you could try to contact, sitting on the couch with Lola curled up beside you. When Ransom came home late that night, that’s how he found you. You looked up, startled when he came in the door, and found a similar expression on his face.

“Oh,” he said. “You’re still up,” as he took off his coat and shoes.

“Yeah,” you said, not knowing what else to say.

He nodded and came as far as the beginning of the living area, then stopped and just stared at you for a moment. You waited for whatever it was he was going to say. Then, finally, “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” then, gathering your courage and hoping you wouldn’t be shut down, you added, “I started to look for a job.”

“Oh,” he looked mildly surprised. “Do you have any experience?”

You pushed down the tinge of hurt that bubbled up at that. The question wasn’t completely uncalled for. Many of your friends back home had never worked a day in their lives. But you couldn’t help feeling a little defensive when you answered, “Yes, I worked at the front desk of an art gallery back home. I liked it. I’d like to find something like that here.”

Ransom hummed thoughtfully as he nodded. “Well,” he said, looking off into the corner of the room, “uh, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”

“Oh,” you said, too surprised to say anything else for a moment. You’d been sure he’d say no. You weren’t quite sure what to do with an offer of help, of all things. And you would need his help if you got the job, with a way to get yourself there at the very least. But you didn’t want to jinx it or push things too far right now, so you just said, “Thank you. I will.” And then, “Uh, how was your day?”

“It was fine,” he said, stiffly. “Busy, I’ve been really busy. And I’m, uh, I’m exhausted now. So I’m going to go straight to bed. Feel free to stay up as late as you want. Obviously.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and left the room.

You should’ve gone after him, maybe. Made him talk to you about it. Or just taken your clothes off while he was talking (although that hadn’t worked the first time). Something. But you were tired too and you just didn’t have it in you, as important as you knew it was.

So, you gave it about half an hour before you went to bed yourself, going through your nighttime routine as quietly as you could in the ensuite. When you went back out to the bedroom, you found Lola already on the bed, curled up against Ransom’s side. You stopped, wondering if you should move her. She’d slept in the bed with you for the last four nights, ever since that awful night, and Ransom hadn’t said anything about making her stop. And he obviously hadn’t noticed her snuggling up next to him, so maybe it was fine. You climbed in next to her and wrapped your body around hers, ignoring the way it made you brush up against Ransom, too.

The next afternoon, you were busying yourself with trying to reorganize your walk-in closet, when you heard someone moving around downstairs. It wasn’t one of the housekeeper’s days, so you made sure you had your phone on you and started down the stairs with caution.

When you got about halfway down, you saw Linda standing in the middle of the living room. “Linda!” you exclaimed, unable to hide your shock at her standing before you. “Ransom didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by. I didn’t know you had a key.”

“Of course, I do, I’m his mother. And I’m the one who set him up with this house.” She cast a judgemental eye on the room. “I see you’ve been moving some things around.”

“Oh,” you said, now at the bottom of the stairs and looking around a little worriedly. You’d tried so hard to disrupt as little as possible. “Not much, I don’t think. Just a little to make room for my own things.”

Linda hummed in a way that made you want to shrink inside yourself. “Well,” she said and held out a gift bag. “I brought you a little something.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, forcing a smile as you took the gift, slightly afraid of what might be in it. You glanced inside, moving aside the tissue paper to find about a dozen pregnancy tests. “Oh,” you said, afraid if you said anything more you might burst into tears. It was fine it was fine it was fine.

“Just want you to be prepared,” she said.

“Thank you,” you forced out. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“Well,” she clapped her hands together, “why don’t you get us some coffee?”

You forced another smile, trying to cover the panic you felt that she was staying. “Yes, of course.” You took your time getting the coffee prepared in the kitchen. Once it was ready, and you had the cream and sugar and everything else gathered on a tray, you couldn’t delay it any longer and brought everything out to the living room. Linda helped herself to a mug, finishing it to her liking as you did the same. You caught, though, the little face she made at her first sip. That was fine, it was her son’s fucking coffee.

“This is nice,” she said, in that particular syrupy tone of voice she had that meant she was trying too hard to seem friendly. “Just the two of us. Overdue.”

You made yourself nod. “Yes,” you said, “It’s great to see you.”

“I was talking to Ransom this morning, and he mentioned that you’re looking for a job?”

“Oh,” you started, something about her tone making you cautious, “yeah, you know, something to keep me occupied. I used to work at an art gallery and I’m hoping I can do something similar here.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then pursed her lips. “Well, that sounds lovely. But are you sure it’s a good idea with a baby on the way?”

You did your best to chuckle, trying to keep things light as you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I’m not pregnant yet, Linda.”

“Maybe not, but you will be soon. And do you really think it’s fair to get a job when you’re just going to have to quit in a few weeks anyway?”

You stared at her confused, your own coffee now forgotten. “We don’t know exactly when I’ll get pregnant.” You may not care for Ransom much, but you certainly weren’t going to discuss his possible impotence with his mother. Or the fact that he just didn’t want you. “And I don’t understand why I would have to quit once I got pregnant anyway.”

“Well, I’m sure Ransom won’t want you working once you’re pregnant. He’ll want you to focus on growing his child and getting everything prepared for the baby.”

You felt the air go out of your lungs. All you could do was gape at her. What? You flashed back to the wedding, to Harlan telling you how good you were going to be for Ransom. To your mother telling you to keep him happy. To Joseph’s speech barely even mentioning you. It was like you as a person didn’t exist anymore. You were just here for him. Your whole life set up just to cater to him. You felt the tears starting to gather in your eyes, but you would not cry in front of this woman.

“But,” you started, “you worked all through your pregnancy and Ransom’s childhood, didn’t you? I don’t understand why I wouldn’t be able to, too.”

“Oh,” she said, as she gave you the most condescending look you might have ever received, “I see. You think you and I are the same. Sweetheart, no. I helped my father choose my arraignment. I came into it with my own money, having already established myself. A real career, not some silly part-time gallery job. I’m the one who supports Richard. I’ve always had the power. I was never you. And you will never be me. So, how about you let Ransom take good care of you and you focus on the things that you can give him, hmm?”

You just stared at her, feeling suddenly numb. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? You’d only spoken to her a few times and every single time she’d made you feel so small, insignificant, weak.

She placed her mug on the table and stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now, dear, but this was so nice. We’ll have to do it again soon.” She stood in front of you as all you could do was sit and stare. She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow at you and you finally realized that she wanted you to stand. You robotically did so, still so numb from this short visit. As soon as you were upright, she gave you a stiff hug and patted you on the shoulder. “I’m so glad we were able to put this silly job idea to bed,” she said. “I’ll show myself out. Have a good rest of your day, darling.” And then she was gone and you were left standing alone in the middle of Ransom’s living room.

You spent the rest of the afternoon running Linda’s visit through your mind, over and over. The thing you couldn’t understand was why, if Ransom was so against you working, he hadn’t said anything about it last night. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell you no right away, rather than siccing his mother on you the next day? Why would he say yes? Was it just so that he could look like the good guy before he had his mom do his dirty work for him? Was he really that much of a chickenshit?

When you got to a point when you thought you might actually drive yourself crazy if you thought about it anymore, you got your phone out and tried, once again, to call Steve.

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

You wanted to scream. You were so fucking tired of talking to his machine. Every time you thought you couldn’t feel more alone, you just fell deeper.

“Hey, Steve. Um, I’d really love it if you could call me back. I know you’re busy. I don’t mean to– I’m sorry. I just– I just really miss you. I’d really like to talk to you. I love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and then just stared at your black phone screen for a moment. You couldn’t just sit in the house anymore. “Lola!” you called out into the house, not sure of where she’d gotten off to. “Want to go for a walk?”

Ransom didn’t come home that night, the absolute fucking coward.

When you woke up the next day, you couldn’t tell if Ransom’s side of the bed had been slept in or not. Lola was sprawled across it, taking up much more space than her tiny body would indicate. You decided not to dwell on it.

There was a text message from Steve, sent in the middle of the night.

Hey chipmunk. I’m so sorry I keep missing your calls. I’ve been absolutely slammed this week. I’ll try to call you soon. Hope you’re doing ok. I miss you so much. Love you.

You couldn’t stop staring at it. The childhood nickname combined with the distance the message represented made your whole chest ache.

As the day wore on, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The housekeeper didn’t want you around. All the unpacking was done. You couldn’t look for a job. You tried to read but you couldn’t focus. You called Steve but he didn’t pick up, again, and you just didn’t have it in you to leave another message.

You felt like you sleepwalked through the whole day, so when Ransom walked in in the evening, you were startled to realize the day was gone.

Lola lept off your lap on the couch and ran to him as soon as he came in the door, hopping up and down and prancing in front of him. He froze, his scarf halfway off his neck and caught in his hands. “What is it doing?” he asked, turning to you, absolutely bewildered.

“I– I don’t know,” you said, staring at your dog. It was stupid, you knew it was so stupid, but you couldn’t help the frisson of betrayal that ran through you. She was supposed to be yours. She was supposed to love you, only you. And now she was consorting with the enemy. And you were jealous of a dog. But what else did you have? Your husband wouldn’t touch you, your brother wouldn’t call you back, and now your dog loved someone else. It all made you want to sob. “I think she’s happy to see you.”

He looked at you aghast. “Why?!”

“I don’t know,” you said again. “Lola,” you called, but she was still hopping up and down in front of Ransom. “Lola!” She turned at your stern tone and reluctantly ran back to you. You picked her up and cradled her in your arms. “Sorry,” you said to Ransom, then quietly murmured, “What were you doing?” into her fur. You glanced at the time. “You’re home early.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, somewhat sheepish. “Finally got out of work at a decent hour.”

“Oh.” It felt so weird to have him here. “I guess we could have dinner. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no. Dinner sounds great.” He finally came out of the entryway and began digging through his fridge, pulling out two of the pre-prepared meals his housekeeper kept there.

As he put them in the microwave, all you could do was stare at him. You’d had the last twenty-four hours to stew in your anger and sadness and now all you really felt was tired. There was nothing you could do. It was his house, his family that held the strings. You were far from home with no one to back you up. He’d seen to it that you didn’t have a job to fall back on. All you could do was go along with what he wanted. The only thing you could do was make your place here more secure. As he bent down to get a plate out of the microwave, you blurted out, “Why won’t you fuck me?”

He straightened up quickly and stared at you. “What the fuck?!”

“I just–” you tried, “Has that happened before? Your problem. I’ve read that as men get older that happens sometimes.”

“I’m thirty-five, not fucking sixty. What the actual fuck?” He loudly dropped the plate down in front of you. “Eat your fucking food. I’m not talking about this.”

You sullenly started in on your food, it was pasta. You barely tasted it. You needed to keep talking about this, but doing it while he was angry probably wasn’t the best approach.

He heated up the other plate and then joined you, taking a seat next to you at the island. You both ate in silence, until he finally said, “I just don’t think this is anything we need to rush into. We have plenty of time.”

You looked up at him. Of course, he wouldn’t think there was any rush. Of course, he didn’t have any personal stakes in you getting pregnant. Of course, he could forbid you from working but then deny you the one thing that would give you something to fucking do here. Something that would take a portion of your anxiety away. “We don’t actually,” you growled. “We have no idea how long it’s going to take me to get pregnant.”

“You keep saying that, but I just– I think rushing it would be a mistake. We have more time than you think and putting this off until we know each other better is a good idea.”

And suddenly, you saw red. Every single fucking thing was on his terms. His hometown, his family, his house, his things, his staff, his single car, his timetable. “And how are we supposed to do that, huh?” you yelled, standing up now. “When you’re gone before I wake up and you cross your fingers I’m in bed before you get home. If you even come home! When exactly is this getting to know each other supposed to happen?!”

“Hey!” he yelled, standing up as well. Lola ran upstairs at the sound of his stool scraping against the hardwood. “Calm the fuck down! What is the big fucking deal if we wait a few months rather than doing it right now?”

“Because the longer we wait the less time I’ll have to get pregnant! And the more likely it’ll be that it won’t happen and we’ll nullify the contract and our marriage will be dissolved. And you’ll be fucking fine! You’ll still be your grandfather’s and your mother’s heir. Nothing will happen to you. But I’ll be sent back to Joseph. I’ll have to accept a second arrangement with anyone who will take me. I’ll– I’ll–” You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. The room was getting smaller, pressing in on you, and you couldn’t breathe.

You sank down to the floor and suddenly Ransom was in front of you. He called your name, but it was hard to process it. He called it again and you made eye contact with him. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re ok. You’re alright. I’m here.” He was speaking so quietly, so gently. “I’m here to help you, ok? I’m going to stay with you.” You nodded as best you could. “Can I touch you?” he asked, and you immediately shook your head. “Ok,” he said quickly, “that’s fine. That’s ok. I won’t touch you. You’re breathing too fast, ok? You need to slow down. Can you breathe with me? Come on, do it with me.” And then he breathed in slowly and you tried to match his rhythm. In and out, in and out, so slowly. At some point, he started counting. In 1 2 3 4 5. Out 1 2 3 4 5. Eventually, you could do it on your own, without him coaching you.

You spent a few more minutes on the floor with him, you both just breathing at each other. Then finally you were able to find your words. “I’m ok,” you said. “I’m alright. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, still so gentle. “Nothing at all. Can you get up?” You nodded and he helped you up. “Are you hungry?” he asked and you shook your head. “Ok, I’ll clean the food up later. Can I help you upstairs?” You nodded and he, very carefully, put his hand on your back, so slowly that you had all the time in the world to pull away. His touch was warm, soft. His touch was always so soft with you.

He guided you to the bedroom where Lola was already on the bed, shaking steadily and looking at you with big, fearful eyes. You climbed on and curled up next to her. “You’re ok,” you whispered to her. “I’m sorry we scared you.” She scooted so she was snuggled up right against you and you carded your fingers through her fur, scratching gently.

Ransom hovered at the foot of the bed. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” he said. “Has that happened before?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think so. How did you know how to help?”

“Oh, uh,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, “I used to get them when I was a kid. I had a nanny who, uh, she was really good about them.”

You just nodded, feeling like you should tuck away that information. You knew so little about him, real things that hadn’t been in the binder. You wanted to file away everything you could.

“Are you– Will you be ok if I go take care of the food?”

You nodded again. “Yeah,” you said, softly. “I’ll be fine. Lola will take care of me. Won’t you, baby?” Lola flopped onto her back so that you could give her tummy scratches and you let out a soft giggle. You smiled up at Ransom, to reassure him. And he just sort of stopped. And stared at you. Your brow furrowed as you became self-conscious under his gaze and your smile started to drop.

He suddenly shook himself out of whatever had been happening and nodded. “Yeah, ok. Yell if you need me,” and he darted out of the room.

You weren’t sure exactly how long he was gone. You passed the time snuggling with Lola, taking comfort in her. You felt shaky and raw. And scared, still scared of everything that could happen, everything you’d yelled at Ransom about. And Ransom himself, how he would take to being yelled at like that, once he was done being worried.

You heard his heavy footfalls at the top of the stairs and looked up as he came back into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and turned so you could see half his face. “I didn’t–” he started and stopped. Then, after another moment, “I didn’t realize you were so worried about all of this.”

“How would you?” you asked, your eyes cast down, locked on Lola as you continued to pet her. “You’re never here. We never talk.”

“I’ve been really busy,” he said, just a tinge of defensiveness in his tone. “Work’s been awful.” He paused, then repeated, “I’ve been really busy.”

“Sure,” you said.

Neither of you said anything for long minutes. You just kept petting Lola, your hand moving over her body rhythmically.

Then finally, Ransom said lowly, “We can work on it. Getting pregnant. If that will make you feel better. Make things easier for you.”

“Can we?” you asked. “I don’t know if what happened– if that was something that happens to you a lot, or if,” you looked back down, “or if you just don’t want me.”

He moved his hand so that his fingertips grazed yours on the bed. “It’s not that. It wasn’t ever that, ok?” You couldn’t help the way your whole body heated, just a bit, at the implication. You looked up just as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I just– You were clearly so scared. You wanted to be anywhere else, I could tell. You wouldn’t let me touch you, you wouldn’t even look at me. I can’t do it like that. I just can’t.” He opened his eyes and looked right at you. “I just can’t.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “That’s– I’m sorry, I–”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not– I just thought you should know.”

You sat quietly together for a few moments. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I think we should try again.”

He gave you a surprised look. “Now?” You nodded resolutely but he shook his head back at you. “You’re still coming down from your panic attack. This can wait til tomorrow.”

In the aftermath of your anxiety, the anger you’d felt had mostly faded away, but now it bubbled back up again. You were so tired of him dictating how everything would go. “No,” you said firmly. “I don’t want to put it off anymore. I’m fine now. This will make things better.”

He just looked at you, searching your face for something. You tried to show him how calm you were now, how sure. Finally, he let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. Then he got off the bed and started taking off his clothes. You scrambled up onto your knees to take your top off, gently coaxing Lola off the bed. She looked up at you, waiting for you to join her, but Ransom, now clad only in his boxers, picked her up, gently you noted, and deposited her in the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He looked at you as you continued to strip down to just your bra and panties, his eyes running over your body, and for the first time, you felt it. Maybe he did want you.

He climbed back on the bed. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. You froze for just a second, then nodded. He slowly brought his mouth to yours and caressed your lips with his own. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss was hesitant on both sides, not exactly passionate, but not chaste either. Nowhere near the worst you’d ever had. A quiet arousal began to pool in your core. Not need, not exactly. But it would be enough, you thought. You broke the kiss and laid down on your back. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” you said, trying to keep your tone kind, “but it’ll be faster, I think, if we both just get ourselves ready.” You started the same as last time, one hand on your breast, the other slowly traveling down your body to play with the hem of your panties. “But you can watch,” you added. “If that’s something you like.”

He cleared his throat and nodded. Then he reached over and lightly grabbed your underwear with both hands. “Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to push down your nerves. Everything was ok, this was what needed to happen. You were fine. You were ok.

He pulled your panties down your legs, then tossed them on top of his own clothes. You closed your eyes to focus again on your goto fantasy. The man standing over you. His voice in your ear. And again, you heard the sounds of Ransom getting himself ready. The snick of him opening the bottle of lube. The wet sounds of his hand working over his cock. This time you didn’t let it bother you. This time, you willed yourself not to flinch when you felt his hand on your leg. You had two fingers in your cunt and you worked yourself open, your thumb rubbing over your clit. Once you were wet enough, stretched enough, you opened your eyes and sat up. Ransom was staring at you, one hand on his hard cock, kneeling in front of you.

“Ok,” you said, “I think I’m ready.” He started to move forward, but you stopped him with a hand on his bare chest. “Can I be on top?” you asked. “Is that ok?”

He looked down at where you were touching him and then back up at your face. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

You switched places as he laid down and you moved over him, straddling his pelvis and then carefully lowering yourself onto his cock. You tried not to grimace as he stretched you. He grunted again, as you slowly took more and more of him. Both of his hands came up to grasp your hips as you began to ride him, slowly at first, then picking up your pace. He was staring at your body and it was– it was a lot. Too much. You closed your eyes against it, hoping you just looked like you were into it. As he got closer, he started to buck up into you. You couldn't help but gasp at it. One of his hands moved from your hip to rub circles with his thumb over your clit, the rest of his hand splayed over your pelvis. You breathed through it, trying to let go enough to let yourself come, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. That was ok. That didn’t need to happen. Only one of you needed to come tonight.

He continued to buck up into you, his movements becoming more erratic. You balanced yourself with your hands on his shoulders. “Can I–” he grunted. “I’m gonna– Can I move you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah.”

He sat up and tucked you into him, rolling you both over so that you were now on your back and he was on top of you. He thrust back into you, once, twice, three times, and then he was coming, filling you up. His whole body stuttered over you and then collapsed on top of you. He breathed into your neck for countless moments and you didn’t know why, but you brought your hand up to gently stroke at the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Do you need me to–” he started to ask.

“No,” you said, knowing he was offering to help you finish. “I’m fine. Good. I’m good.”

You felt him nod, just a little, but he didn’t say anything else. It was so quiet, just the sounds of him catching his breath. Then he placed a soft kiss where your neck met your shoulder and lifted himself up and off you. You whimpered, just a little, as he pulled out.

You quickly lifted your hips up to keep his cum inside of you. You reached blindly next to your head until you found a pillow that you shoved under your lower back to keep your pelvis canted up. Ransom moved around the room, picking his underwear off the floor, and then into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came back out with a washcloth. He moved it towards your cunt and you shot a hand out. “No! Wait.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s ok. Just for your thighs. I know. I understand.” He gently moved the warm washcloth over your legs. “Are you alright?” He asked, not quite meeting your eyes. “Was that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, moving your hand to brush along his forearm. “I’m alright. That was good.”

You lay in bed as Ransom lightly snored on his stomach next to you, Lola curled up between you. You couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for about an hour, probably. You sat up. It was no use. Your mind was too busy. Sleep wasn’t going to come.

You grabbed your phone and got out of bed, moving downstairs to the living room as quietly as you could. You curled up on the couch and hugged your knees. You weren’t sure how you felt. It had been fine. Parts of it had even been good, maybe. It’d just, it’d been a long night. You’d gone through so many feelings, and now– Now, you just felt a little empty.

You looked at your phone. It was just before midnight. That meant it’d be a little before nine in LA. Steve hopefully wouldn’t still be working, but he wouldn’t be asleep yet either. He might be out, or painting, or busy some other way, but. It was worth a shot.

It only rang once. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Steve gasped. “Work has been a fucking nightmare, but that’s no excuse. I was going to try to call you tomorrow, but I’m so, so glad you called me now. How are you? Are you ok?”

The tears had started as soon as you heard your brother’s voice. “Steve,” was all you could get out before you were full-on crying.

“Oh, chipmunk, no. What’s wrong?”

You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. You finally had your brother on the phone. You weren’t going to waste the whole conversation crying. “Nothing,” you managed. “I’m ok, I just– I’m just so happy to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, and you thought that maybe his voice sounded a little thick too. “Me too. I’m so happy to talk to you. I’m so sorry it’s been so long. How are you doing? Your messages, you sounded– Are you ok?”

You sniffled as you tried to nod and then realized he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. It’s just a little lonely here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. Everything’s so different here without you. Shit, it’s late there. What are you doing up?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Steve hummed and there was a tone to it you couldn’t quite decipher. “Is Ransom there?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep upstairs.”

“And how is he?” Steve’s tone was decidedly cold now.

“He’s fine,” you said, ignoring it. “His work’s been really busy too.”

“And how’s he been to you?” he asked and you definitely didn’t miss the challenge there.

“He’s been fine, Steve,” you said and you weren’t sure whether or not it was a lie. “Everything’s fine.” You’d already decided you weren’t going to tell him about the job thing. That wouldn’t do anything but upset him. Get him on a plane here, maybe, so he could try throwing his weight around. You rolled your eyes. It was better this way. “I’ve just been unpacking mostly. Nothing too exciting. What about you? What’s going on with you? I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure it’s not too late there?”

“No, not at all. I’m wide awake. And nothing much to get up for in the morning anyway. But if you’re busy or need to go to bed or something, you can go whenever you need to.”

“Not a chance. I wanna talk to you as long as I can,” Steve said. And you knew he couldn’t see it, but you grinned into the phone anyway.

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writingforcuteppl · 3 months

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i think i’m getting lost

PAIRING: Sanzu Haruchiyo x f!Haitani!Reader

SUMMARY: You never really understood why your boyfriend or brothers killed and found it thrilling until you had to do it for self-defense, and now you’re wondering if something is wrong with you.

GENRE: Angst, just a little bit suggestive.

WARNINGS: MURDER, mentions of blood, declining mental health, swearing, stalking, sexual assault. Please read at your own discretion. If you think this may trigger you, please forget all of this and continue with your day. Put your mental health first.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k words

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“For fucks sake, Ran, answer your damn phone,” Kakucho muttered under his breath. He has been in this situation so many times, cleaning everyone's mess after they decided to just kill or mess up with someone they considered a threat to Bonten, but it was the first time you were involved.

“How is she?” Kakucho asked Sanzu, who was amused by the view. You were in silence. Face, hands, clothes covered in blood. You’ve never looked hotter in his eyes.

You couldn’t stop looking at the body of the man in front of you who lay lifeless. You really didn’t mean it. He wasn’t supposed to be dead.

“Finally, you shitheads. We need you, now.” You couldn’t really understand who Kaku was talking to, but by the club noise coming out from his phone, you could just figure he was speaking to one of your brothers.

“Hey, princess, look up.” Sanzu squatted in front of you and put his hand under your chin, making you look at your boyfriend for the first time since he arrived. You looked briefly into his eyes and then directed your sight to the bat that was lying near the man’s head. You just shook your head and sighed. ‘This is gonna be more complicated than I thought,’ Sanzu thought.

“They are already on their way. I don’t want to move anything until they arrive. Maybe they will be able to figure out what the hell happened.” Sanzu tried his best not to look excited. He wanted to know how his sweet angel was able to fucking murder someone.

“Let’s clean you up, okay?” You didn’t answer, Sanzu. He picked you up and took you to your bathroom to shower and change you. As Sanzu was taking your clothes off, you finally called his name.

“Well, cat didn’t get your tongue,” he chuckled and waited patiently for you to say something else. He was only patient when it came to you.

“He’s been stalking me for months now. I just… I didn’t want to tell you anything because I knew you were going to go violent. But oh well.” you blurted out. Not a single hint of distress or sadness or even panic. You were too calm, even for Sanzu’s likeness.

“He ended up just like he would be if you told me, you know?”

“Yeah, I just thought that I was going to be able to figure out how to fix this myself in a more civil way.”

“Not the best time to tell you this, but god, you look so good covered up in blood,” Sanzu finally blurted out, and you smiled. Of course, he would get riled up by that.

“You think?” You tried to sound playful, but something, which Sanzu believed was fear, made that statement unsettling. He just knew he needed to wait for you to speak, but in the end, you always ended up spilling out everything that was in your mind.

Sanzu was removing the blood from your face with the water that was running down when he could hear a commotion coming from your living room. Your brothers finally arrived.

“Do you think you can finish showering yourself?” He didn’t want to admit it, but he was worried—the type of worry he gets whenever Mikey is too silent for his own liking.

“San, I’m ok. Believe me.” He looked into your eyes and knew you were telling him the truth. "I’m still an adult. I can function normally.” Sanzu only nodded and gave you a little kiss on the temple. You just smiled. He wasn’t the type of guy to get too affectionate, but when he did, you knew he meant it.

As the water continued to fall over your body, your mind started to race. It wasn’t supposed to feel the way it did. Were you actually a bad person all this time? Were you just faking all that politeness? You just remembered the way you saw that bastard’s life fade from his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to feel good.

As the minutes passed, you just played the events over and over again. All the tension that had been building up for months had been taken out on him. It was his fault, after all. But still, murder is wrong, right? But was it bad if it was in self-defense?

You knew you had to go outside at any moment. For your own sake and your brothers', you decided to dress up and face whatever interrogation the Bonten executives had for you. You sighed. They cannot see that you enjoyed it. You aren’t like them. You tried to repeat that to yourself, but the more you thought about it, the more you concluded that you may be just like them.

When you arrived at your living room, the body and the bat were nowhere to be seen. Only a faint blood stain on your floor was visible. You couldn’t be surprised even if you wanted to. After all, they are part of Japan’s most dangerous criminal organization.

Rindou was the first to approach you. He hugged you. You expected you were going to cry, but you didn’t. You felt some kind of comfort and smiled.

“Before you ask, I swear I’m okay.” Ran raised his eyebrow at your confession.

“Care to tell us what happened?” Rindou said while making you move from the middle of the living room to the nearest couch.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You tried to laugh the tension out, but no one believed you were actually that good, not even Sanzu.

“Fine.” you took a deep breath before explaining what happened. “I think Sanzu has already told you this man had been kinda stalking me for quite some time now.”

“Why didn't you tell us? We would’ve fixed this sooner and quicker.” Ran questioned you, and you could tell he was angry. It only took one look from you to make him go soft. “I just don’t understand. You shouldn’t have done this. Not you. You were the good one, the one that was the best out of everyone.” Your face twitched at his words. Your mind was everywhere, and you couldn’t come up with a proper answer.

“Shut up, Ran.” Rindou was also mad, but mostly because you didn’t trust them enough so they could take care of this, take care of you.

“Ran, let her finish. You are no one to talk. None of us, actually.” You nodded at Kakucho as a form of gratitude.

“I’m sorry, Ran. I know I should’ve. I really thought that I was going to be able to take care of this by myself, and I did, just… Not in the way I intended.” you stopped waiting for someone to say something else before continuing with your story. When nobody said anything, you continued.

“The thing is, it slowly turned into something more. It mostly started with him following me. I started to see him everywhere I went, too many times to think it was just a coincidence. Then I started to receive presents and packages with stuff that included photos of me when I was outside by myself, photos of me in my apartment, and the last week were photos taken from inside the apartment.” You made a pause, trying to keep calm and not get angry.

“AND WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US?” Ran shouted at you. “You let all of this get more dangerous for you.”

“I…”

“Don’t you dare to say it was because you wanted to fix it yourself?”

“YOU KNOW WHY? YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO KNOW WHY I DIDN’T TELL YOU SHIT?” now you were screaming back at Ran “BECAUSE YOU CAN ONLY THINK WITH YOUR DICK. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I CALLED YOU AND YOU JUST SENT ME A FUCKING MESSAGE SAYING “TALK YOU LATER”? Please, Ran, I don’t have to be a fucking psychic to know you were too busy fucking everything that has legs.”

“You don’t get to flip this on me now. What about Rin, or Sanzu?”

“Please, Rin is just as you and Sanzu would’ve done way worse than just killing him. Besides, he only follows Mikey’s orders. I’m not dumb, Ran. Even if he’s my boyfriend, he barely takes things seriously when it comes to anyone besides Mikey.” You said the last thing in a whisper. You looked at Sanzu, and you saw guilt on his face for the first time since you started dating him.

“She’s right, Ran.” Rindou covered his face with his hands. How did they leave you all alone? They were your big brothers. They should’ve been more attentive.

You whipped out some tears that started falling down your cheek. Sanzu, who was on your other side, only took your hand without even looking at you. You didn’t mean to call him out too. It just slipped. But deep down, you both knew what you said was the truth.

“I know we fucked up, but she has to understand. That’s why we are here for.” You sighed. He wasn’t mad because you just killed someone, but because, as he said, you shouldn’t be the one to do something. “I’m sure that fucker deserved it. I mean, you saw how she left him. Barely recognizable.”

“Damn right she did!” Sanzu smirked, and Rindou only shook his head at him. At least he wasn’t mad at you.

“Today, when I arrived here, I just knew something was off. It didn’t feel right. When I least expected it, I felt someone grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth. I’m not stupid, but I knew it was him.” You huffed. “He started to…” you ribbed your hands against your face, trying to get the courage to say the following words. “He started to touch me…” you said as you moved your hands around your body so they could get the idea. Your brothers only nodded, and Sanzu was frowning.

“I just knew if I didn’t do something quick, he was going to do something to leave me unconscious. And well. We don’t have to be a genius to know why he was actually here, right? So I remembered that Sanzu left a bat a few days ago here.”

“I bought that as a joke, but I’m kinda glad it helped you.” You gave Sanzu a small smile and continued.

“Well, after that, I just hit him with my elbow on the stomach. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, and he wasn’t as strong as you guys,” you said, referring to your brothers. “I just ran for the bat, and the moment I felt him near me, I just started hitting him with the bat. And the rest is history, I guess.” You tried ending the description of the events as quickly as possible. You omitted the little insignificant detail, which is why right now you feel like going down a hole you will never be able to get out of. Maybe Ran and Rindou didn’t notice it, but Sanzu knew better. Interrogating people too many times made him kind of an expert, and he knew when people were not lying but hiding something else.

You saw how everyone was in silence. Kakucho was the one who broke it.

“Well, it sounds like it was mostly a self-defense situation. I will take care of it, don’t worry.” You thank him. You knew you were going to be fine if Kakucho was the one who would make sure no one ever linked this to you.

Ran and Rindou tried to come up with an apology, but nothing came out. How can they say anything now? They fucked up big time.

“Hey,” you said, reaching Ran since he was standing near your front door. You knew he was beating himself up for this, so you only hugged him. “I’m okay, I swear.” You tried to comfort him, and he just hugged you in return.

“We’ll talk tomorrow. The three of us. Right?” Rindou nodded. They always thought that since you were the youngest, they should always take care of you, and this was quite the opposite of what they thought.

“Ok, I’ll see you then.” You knew they wanted to amend things, to at least make it up to you, and they wanted to be able to talk without any of their colleagues listening.

Ran Kakucho and Rindou said their goodbyes, leaving you and Sanzu alone. As you returned to the sofa, you were trying to come up with some kind of apology for what you said earlier. You always knew Sanzu was like that; he was devoted to only one person, and it never bothered you, even if it sounded like that a few moments ago. You never really talked to Mikey, but the few times you’ve interacted with him, he wasn’t mean or anything like that. His presence wasn’t uncomfortable at all. You enjoyed the silence.

“I-”

“No, let me talk.” He interrupted you before you could apologize. He grabbed your hand as he made you sit on his lap. “First of all, I’m sorry if I made you think I wouldn’t do anything for you. You don’t understand it. I would kill for you, just as I would for Mikey. You are mine, which means I will do whatever it takes to make sure you are happy and safe.” You were trying to hide your smile. After so long, Sanzu was saying the words you’ve only dreamed of.

“Ok,” you didn’t know how to react to that confession. It felt good that you were speechless, so you just started playing with his hair. Sanzu grinned.

“Good. Now, I’m not stupid. Care to say what you didn’t tell us before?” Fuck. Of course, he would know you weren’t telling him everything that happened. You knew you needed to get it out of your system, and maybe Sanzu was the best option. He would understand, right?

“Nothing important, really. It’s just… I enjoyed it. I don’t know why San, but the way I felt him go numb, the way I saw in his eyes his life fade away… Damn it, it shouldn’t feel like that. I don’t know what happened, Sanzu. I’m actually scared.” you finally started crying. It felt good to finally be able to get it out, but it was horrible at the same time. “I’ve seen you, my brothers, everyone in Bonten, kill, and it is scary. I just don’t know what happened today.” As you were sobbing, Sanzu cleaned the tears on your face.

“We both know I’m not the best person to discuss this. I know what you mean, and…” you saw he was having trouble coming up with words. “I just want you to know that this is the first and last time you will feel like this. I swear on my life that I will take care of all these types of situations so you don’t feel conflicted or scared. I really don’t know how to help you emotionally, angel, and I wish I could help you. Maybe Kaku would be able to help you with this feeling, but apart from that I can help with making you feel safe. I promise.” you started to calm down, not enough to make the crying stop, but enough to make you feel at ease.

“Thanks, Sanzu,” you whispered.

“Anything for you, my angel”

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darnell-la · 1 month

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𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦

pairing: dom!logan howlett x black!fem!reader

warnings: flashbacks, passing out, a lot of foul languages, heavy smut, rough sex, hard making out, a lot of territory marking, jealousy, etc.

note: we were just reminded that Wolverine and Storm had their own love story, but they cut it out of the movie because they didn’t know how they would make it a thing in the rest of the X-Men movies. we need that storyline NOW!

here’s the smut only!

please like, COMMENT, follow, reblog, and REQUEST us.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!

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𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

“You’ve been here for a week, grump pants. Just enjoy the Halloween party. God, did you guys not have fun in your world,” Wade pulled Logan through the doors of this adult Halloween party his friends had invited him to.

“How about you walk around, and make some friends while I say hi to mine, mkay? Good boy,” Wade pat Logan’s head before running off, knowing Logan wasn’t the physical touch type of man.

Logan stood at the front entrance for a while, looking around to see where the alcohol was. He knew they had to have some kind of liquor around here.

He sighed, thinking the party couldn’t get worse until he finally spotted the drink table. He rose his chest and began walking towards the booth, hoping they had some good and hard shit.

As he walked halfway, someone walked before him, almost making him trip. He went to open his mouth, but he stopped when the person's outfit reminded him of someone. Storm.

The woman kept walking, completely unaware of almost tripping Logan. The man stalked behind her, feeling memories come back to life.

Storm was one out of many women Logan had messed around with. They grew close. Very close.

“Let’s get some drinkin’ on!” Y/n shouted making the people around her celebrate. Her personality and how she carried herself seemed similar to one of the main people he missed.

“Ororo?” Logan spoke. Y/n stopped in her tracks and looked around Al for the faint voice. “Storm?” Logan spoke again right as y/n looked back at him. “Yeah?” Y/n asked with a smile.

Her smile soon faded away after noticing who the man was. He died. Well, at least in her universe. How is he standing right in front of her face?

“Is that really you?” He asked as his hands softly laid on her cheeks. Tears began filling the man’s eyes as he remembered everything from his universe. All the love, friends, and family he had.

“I-I’m just in a costume,” she said. He seemed so happy to see Storm, but that wasn’t who y/n was. She felt bad for disappointing him. She noticed his hands slowly move away from her. His eyes seemed lost.

“Heya! — See you made a new friend- Oh,” Wade looked at the woman then looked at Logan’s state before looking back at the woman. “Well, this isn’t good,” he said, not knowing how Logan would react. He’s known for lashing out.

“Woah, big buddy — Why don’t we go back home, heh? Seems like we’ve had enough fun. Sorry, my friend over here is kinda having a — a Wolverine attack. So, would you mind?” Wade snickered as he went to pull Logan back, but he didn’t move.

He just stared at y/n. Scanning her figure. Her hair. Her eyes. Her lips. Her shoulders. Her form. Her. She looked just like his old friend.

“S-Sorry, you just — You just look like her,” Logan spoke as his memories slowly faded away. “Woah, I don’t think that’s appropriate, bub. This 2024. Not all back women look the same,” Wade whispered, making y/n giggle.

“Huh, what? What are you even talking about?” Logan shot his head towards Wade then the young lady. “Oh my god, you- God, I hate you. I really fucking hate you,” Logan grabbed Wade by his button-up shirt, pissed off for probably the one hundredth time tonight.

“Woah, woah, I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m not offended. I’m actually, honored,” y/n said as Logan slowly placed Wade down. “Well, you should be because this man here would fuck the shit out of-“ Wade’s voice began to sound like a shout before Logan launched in dead in his face.

“Ow, you- Fuck!” Wade grabbed his face, feeling his shifted nose. “You’re a dick. A big fucking dick,” Wade snapped his nose back in place, shocking y/n. The woman covered her mouth, realizing that the Wolverine and Deadpool were at her part.

“I see you’re the host. It’s plastered across your thick necklace- Woah!” Wade stopped his sentence as her eyes shut and her body went limp. Logan caught her quickly as Wade stood there, covering his own mouth now.

“Shit, I- Don’t worry guys! She just had a lot to drink. Gone off that liquor, you feel me? No? Yeah? Okay, well, we’ll take her to bed,” Wade tapped Logan’s shoulder to follow him quickly.

“Hey!” Someone yelled at the two. They stopped right in their tracks and turned towards the man. “Her room the third door on the left,” he said, making the two sigh in relief.

“I don’t know! I was just- I fuckin’ froze!” Logan shouted at Wade, who laid back on the stranger's couch as Wade messed around at her makeup desk, putting some blush and lipgloss on, making sure to leave her foundation alone. He fears cancel culture.

“Well, now you embarrassed us in her house. We’re never getting invited back again. Thank you, emotional twig,” Wade said, making Logan roll his eyes.

“I can’t believe I thought she was her. This lady's much younger and — She’s just much younger,” Logan said as Wade turned around in the spinning chair, now looking at the man.

“That’s what I said, but you’re thinking much more, ain’t ya? — Is it the curves? I mean, your lady had some too, but not like-“ Wade was cut off by Logan telling him to shut up.

“What!? The costumes are way thinner than a high-quality X-men suit. I’m all for feminism but damn! It was jugglin’ when you carried her up the stairs,” Wade raised his shoulders.

“You’re a sick individual, do you know that? God,” Logan shook his head, but he would lie if he said he didn’t see it. He saw it all when she had first stepped in front of him.

Wade went to go on about his rant until they heard y/n’s yawn, finally waking up. “Oh shit,” Wade stood up as well as Logan, both on different sides of the room.

“What the fuck,” y/n spoke after clearing her eyes. “Is this some fucked up dream? Wait? A wet dream!?” She asked out loud, still thinking she was dreaming until she noticed the silence between them, making the music from downstairs seem louder.

“You have wet dreams about us?” Wade asked, breaking the silence. “No,” she dragged, but she was already caught. “Oh my god, girl, tell me about it. Were you with us, or was it just me and Logan fuckin’ it out?” Wade asked as he jumped on her bed, kicking his feet in the air like some little girl's sleepover.

“N-Neither,” she lied. “You hear that, grumpy!? There’s a woman in this universe who rubs one out for ya -- Please be gentle, he gets a bit — sensitive when it comes to — sex,” Wade whispered, but not low enough for Logan to not hear.

“Man, get up. You’re makin’ the lady uncomfortable,” Logan said as he stepped towards the bed. “Or, you can lay down with us and we can cuddle?” Wade said, offering a once-in-a-lifetime offer.

“I need to think. Not about the threesome you’re hinting at, but about this. About Wolverine and Deadpool in my house. At my party. In my room. One on my bed,” y/n’s brain scrambled everywhere.

“How about my place?” Wade suggested. Y/n thought about her party, but her roommates would figure it out without her.

It’s been months since the party incident. Now the three are close and good friends. Even though Logan’s grumpy literally every second of the day, y/n grew to like it. His personality was one of the best things about him.

“Well, I have a date tonight, so move this party to Wade’s place down the hall. Don’t wanna come back to you guys gettin’ it on in my kitchen,” Wade stood at his door.

Y/n turned her head from the movie she was watching and Logan sighed, getting up from the dining room chair.

Even though they barely sit close to each other, Wade knows they’re destined to be together. They have to. If they don’t, he’ll have to run away to a universe where they are.

“I can actually go home now. It’s gettin’ kind of late,” y/n said as she got up, walking towards the front door with Logan. “Oh, no, it’s too late for you to drive. You also drank,” Logan said, making up some excuses for whatever reason.

“I barely drank my cup. I think I’m good, Logan,” she said as she walked out of Wade's apartment. Logan stayed silent, about to let her walk away because he’s always had a problem with showing how much he cares for someone whether that was being lovers, friends, or family.

“Logan go get her. Don’t let her walk away,” Wade yelled whispering at the man. “It’s fine — She said she wanted to go home,” Logan said as he walked out of Wade’s front door, watching y/n walk down the hall.

“If she walks away and gets ran over, robbed, or killed, that’s the story you made for yourself in the universe,” Wade tried scarring the man. Logan leaned over Wade, teeth stuck together as he growled at him in anger.

“Y/n!” Logan shouted as he jogged over to Y/n, softly grabbing her wrist to turn her around. “I’d like for you to stay. I-I’m actually not gonna let you leave,” Logan’s grip slightly tightened.

“Drinking and driving isn’t safe,” he added, making Wade sigh down the hall. “Well, at least you tried. See ya — Damn children. I always get stuck with the children!” Wade said before taking the stairs down, leaving Y/n and Logan alone in the halls.

“I barely drank, Logan,” y/n said with a slight smirk, knowing he’s too big of an emotional keeper to make him say exactly what he wants just now. She had to work for it, and she had time.

“You still drank. Don’t need ya gettin' pulled over then callin’ me to bail you out. I don’t even pay for rent. The owner's a fan,” Logan pulled y/n into him, placing both hands on her hips.

“I wouldn’t call you. I’d call my friends,” y/n kept playing around with him. “And who is that? Those boys you call your roommates? Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “I had female friends too — But it seems like you’re stuck on the men. You jealous, big boy?” She asked.

“Oh, what? Them? Why would I be, when you’re right here with me,” Logan's lips were now inches from her. “But you’re not makin a-“ y/n went to call him out until she felt a tight grip on her neck.

“Quit playing with me, bub. It’s kind of pissin’ me off,” he admitted. The thought of her being around her male roommates has been bothering him for a while, but of course, he never said anything.

Before she could say another word, Logan grabbed her arm and pulled her towards his apartment door, unlocking it and then closing it right after he pulled her in.

“Guess Wade was right,” Logan pushed y/n against his door, trapping her. It’s not like she wanted to leave, anyway. “He would’ve caught me fuckin’ you on his kitchen counter,” Logan finished before his lips attached to hers.

Y/n moaned at how needy he kissed her. He kissed and sucked on her lip and tongue like he’s been waiting for years, which is impossible, but he has been waiting for months.

“Need these lips on mine more often,” Logan said before moving down to her neck, sucking hard. He wanted to make sure her roommates knew what she was doing when she hung out with him.

“Fuck,” the young lady moaned as her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the roots. The man growled, feeling the instant rush to mark her in many different ways tonight.

Without asking, Logan lifted y/n up by her thighs, making her wrap her legs around his huge waist. He pressed her into the door, still a bit upset about her comment about her male roommates.

“Do they make you feel this good?” He asked as he pressed his crotch in between her legs to rub it up against her covered heat. “Do they!?” He pressed against her harder.

“I don’t even fuck with them!” Y/n whined as his mouth sucked on to different parts of her neck. “You better not be lying to me,” Logan leaned back, looking directly into her eyes.

“If I eat this cunt and I smell any man on it, Ima fuck your brains out,” he said before pulling y/n off of the door and carrying her to his room.

“T-That’s not fair! I-I’m not even a virgin, so you’re gonna smell someone!” She said as he threw her on his bed. The man shook his head with a chuckle as he got undressed. Y/n watched him, feeling herself grow more wet than she already was.

“Well, isn’t that a shame, princess,” he said as he took his jeans off, shaking his huge print through his boxers. Her heart stopped at the size. He was thick and long. Wade wasn’t lying when he told her the story about the one time he accidentally caught him in the shower.

“L-Logan,” she spoke as he slowly crawled over her, smirk growing wider. “Don’t worry, Bub. If you pass out, I’ll wake ya right back up with a hard thrust,” y/n shivered m in fear but more lust. She wanted it. She wanted him.

Logan slowly pulled Y/n’s clothes off, adding kisses along her body with it. He loved every inch of her. He dreamt of kissing all over her body for months.

She thought that after the night when he thought she was Storm, he’d see no interest in her, but he did. He saw more. He saw a new beginning with someone else.

Wade talked to him about moving in, and it was hard when he first got here, but running into y/n made that impossible seem possible.

“I smell someone on you,” Logan broke the silence. “B-But-“ she tried saying. “What did I say if I smelled another man on you, princess?” He asked, but she stayed silent. “That I’ll fuck that pretty little mind dumb, right?” he asked again.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” he said, face now inches from hers. She could see how sharp his teeth were. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive. “Y-Yes! Yes, that’s what you said,” she stuttered as her cunt throbbed.

“Yeah, so what do I have to do now, bub?” He asked as his tip grazed across her lips. “F-Fuck me dumb,” she said low, making me grin evilly. “You’re damn right,” Logan forcefully slammed into the non-mutant. She was the right one, but he made it work.

“Fuuuck, yes,” he growled as his eyes rolled back. He knew she’d feel amazing. “C-Cumming,” she cried out, already on the edge. Logan chuckled as he thrust his hips, watching her cum coat his cock.

“That’s right — Wash those other dirty men you spread your whore cunt to. Wash them out!” Logan snapped his hips harder than before, knocking the wind out of y/n.

She loved rough sex, but this was a different level. This wasn’t even the worst he could do to her. Sage could only imagine what this would feel like if he used her toys and ropes.

“Ssh — I know you love this,” Logan’s voice seemed so close, yet so far. She was blacking out, and the hand he had just wrapped around her neck didn’t make it better.

“That’s it, baby. So fuckin’ pretty when you’re passed out. I kinda knew that on our first encounter,” he said, remembering when he first saw her. She was so damn fine, but he couldn’t admit to it shush then.

“Wake up!” Logan pulled his hips all the way back, letting his tip free before plunging right back in her with his loud words.

Y/n woke back up, instantly a whiny mess. “T-Too much,” she cried out, but he ignored her and begged for him to slow down. Instead, he looked at her neck, tasting her skin as he kept pounding into her, balls deep because he knew she needed it like that.

“You’re gonna take me -- Make Wade proud,” Logan whispered, feeling himself come close. He wanted to fill her up. He wanted to keep her forever. He wanted to trap her. If he wasn’t so obsessed with making sure she was happy, he would lock her up in his dark room to keep her away from any danger.

“Take me, baby,” Logan moaned in her neck, muscles flexing as he spilled into her cunt. She squeezed him, sucking him for everything he had. “That’s it — That’s fuckin’ it, Bub,” he slowly stroked into her, loving the feeling of both of their juices mixing together. He knew for sure he’d dream about the sounds too.

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dontlookatmytmntcollection · 5 months

Note

(I didn’t find any info if your askbox is closed or not, if you are not taking up requests you can ignore this!)

But hi :) how are you? how you are doing well

this is a bit personal, but would you mind doing either a Headcanon or scenario with reader x turtles (romantic/crush stage) with a…Hopeless reader? Kinda someone who had to tell themselves that love isn’t on their life journey and that seriously bother them? Lol

this weekend I’m gonna attend a friends wedding, while meeting with some shared friends before the wedding, one of them quoted corpse bride’s scene “to Emily, always the bridesmaid, never the bride” for me (most of my friends are married or dating long term), usually I handle the lack of a love life fairly well (by not thinking about it or just making jokes about it lol) but tonight it kinda really bothered me, a lot.) a lot of my friends treat me being single as something I don’t out efforts in it? But holy shit I do, and it really hurts to see them saying or acting like I’m not doing enough? Anyways. I guess the request would be how the turtles would react to a reader who kinda just lost hope, who agrees with the quote even if it makes her very sad? Kinda trying to wing the night lowkey but turtles can sense it hurt her (maybe Vern said the quote lol, or something similar… that’s something stupid enough for the falcon to do 😅)

I hope makes sense, if not I apologize for the messy ask. Have a good day / night

I'm sorry that happened. Your friends definitely need to stfu about that lol dating and relationships are fun, but nobody NEEDS them. If they need a RELATIONSHIP to feel fulfilled, they have shit to figure out.

Definitely been there tho. And being single can be horrible. I see you

Scene: Your turtle has been secretly pining for you for a while now. Hasn't got the guts to say anything yet.

TMNT x Lonely Reader

Leo

- He could sense your reaction instantly, despite how well you hid it.

- Your micro expressions, the slight but sudden shift of your bodyweight away from Vern- Leo almost didn't catch that you had smiled and laughed at the comment.

- His own reaction was visceral and overwhelming, at least it was to him.

-He remained still by your side, but the urge to...he didn't even know. Hide you. Push hard at Verns shoulder- something.

-Geez. He hadn't felt like this since he was a child. Like he could protect his little brothers or you from judgment or cruelty.

-He couldn't.

-He sucked in a breath through his nose, scrambling for self-control; watching you handle the interaction like an adult. Forcing himself to as well.

-But it did satisfy him to see that Vern physically felt his animosity. The guy took once glance at Leo before he instantly stuttered an excuse to walk to another conversation.

-"Vern is an idiot." Leo scratched out, desperate to keep what he really wanted to say to you at a minimum. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

-You seemed surprised at that, glancing up at him. But your quite, sincere smile made it it worth it.

Raph

- "Always the brides maid, never the bride, huh?"

- "What?" It was a reactive response. Before you could even register what he had said, or the sudden amount of hurt- or embarrassment you felt.

- Raph had turned wide, expectant eyes on Vern as well, something Vern noticed instantly.

- "Well, yunno." Vern stutteres, trying to stay focused on you. "I've seen ya at these events a lot but you never bring a guy around...or-"

-"See that girl over there?" Raph suddenly said, leaning down a little to point your gaze in the right direction.

- "Yeah." You said quietly.

-"Who's that girl, Vern?"

-Vern looked back at you guys, shrugging and putting his hands back in his pockets with an air of pride. "She's my girlfriend."

-Raph smirked, his voice somehow both condescending and unusually soft. "Vern met her a week ago. That makes her..." Raph trailed off, looming back into his full height, towering over Vern. "The sixth one this year, right. Makin' you real good at givin' advice to pretty girls, Falcon boy. Careful with that."

-"Jesus. I'm just- I'll be over there." Vern sighed, awkwardly stepping aside then walking out of sight.

- Raph said nothing, instead turning to you. "You alright?"

-You were desperate not to say everything you wanted to. "Much better." You said instead, looking up at him. Hoping the softness you saw there was a reflection of what you felt for him too.

Donnie

- Donnie couldn't even react or register the words before you were handling it. Shrugging and waving Vern off.

-He was horrified. His eyes were glued to Vern, completely confused that the guy had missed how rude of a statement that was.

-The conversation came and went, and while he had a wonderful time, he was entirety focused on you.

-While you didn't seem MISERABLE, you were different. Something had obviously changed. And it was Verns fault.

-You had no reason to feel pressure of that kind. You were perfect the way you were! No one should ever, ever, ever make you feel anything less.

-The thought that you did made him physically sick to his stomach.

-He might not have caught it in time to say anything in the moment.

-But Verns apartment locks, car, computer, and bathroom pipes all giving him a hard time all in the next 24 hours?

-A complete and utter mystery...

Mikey

-"Yeah you should listen to him." Mikey said.

-Shock coursed through you. "What?" You looked at him, wide eyed, heart in your throat- "W- I should-"

-"You should listen to him." Mikey repeated, noding solumley, starting to confidently strole around Vern. "This guy has fantastic dating advise. You don't even know, girl. Look at him!" Mikey's smile was as bright as the sun, gesturing to Vern as if he was a plater he was showing off to you.

-"He's been on this earth so long, his life experience exceeds our very comprehension, girl."

-Vern made a sudden puzzled expression while yours melted quickly into a smile.

-"He's got recipes too. Qualifications, evidence, the whole nine yards. Guy has like- twelve grand kids-"

-"I- C'mon, Mike-" Vern was catching on.

-"Ohhh.. yeah, that's right. No grandkids. But he does have a wife. They just had their fiftieth anniversary-!"

-"I'm not that o- He's joking with you." Vern tried to explain. "I'm not married."

-Mikey snapped his fingers as he had remembered something, suddenly getting much, MUCH closer in Verns personal space.

-"Oh yeah, that's right. You're not married. I forget that your on, like, your sixth girlfriend this month. Maybe actual advise sounds like..."

-Mikey stepped away from Vern, standing infront of you. "Keep those standards up, girl. Pretty face like yours? You could have anyone you want."

-You couldn't stop smiling.

#bayverse #raphael #leonardo #tmnt #donatello #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt #my writing #tmnt headcanons #raphael x reader #bayverse leonardo #leonardo x reader #bayverse donatello #donatello x reader #tmnt michelangelo #michelangelo x reader #michelangelo

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justmeinadaze · 6 months

Text

We're A Family Part 24 (Steddie X You)

A/N: So I am calling this the final part just because it IS the final part of the main story but I'm not done with this little family. I still have a few ideas for them so it won't be the last we see.

Warnings: Dads SteddieX Mom Fem Y/N, SMUT of the passionate tender variety that comes with these three, No real ANGST, Dylan going off to college and the three parents here dealing with that. Some flashbacks of Dylan and the reader struggling with Charlie.

The biggest feels here will come along with anyone who has experienced empty nest syndrome so be aware of that.

FLUFF, The guys talk a lot about how much they love their son and vice versa <3.

Word Count: 4965

Good Neighbors/ We're a Family

Your eyes run along newborn Dylan’s little sleeping face as his tiny hand holds your finger. Charlie had passed out long ago, curled up on the makeshift bed as he softly snored. They could be twins.

“I’m glad you’re finally here. Your daddy and I have been so excited to meet you.”, you coo in a gentle tone. “I promise, baby, you are going to have the best life. I’ll do anything I can to protect you and make you happy just like my dad did. I wish you could have met him. He would have adored having a grandson.”

Your voice cracks as tears sting your eyes at the thought. Dylan wiggles a bit in your hold as if he was getting more comfortable as his head turned towards your chest.

Tilting down, you tenderly kiss his forehead and inhale his baby smell.

“I love you so much.”

***

“Hey, sit your little butt down.”, Eddie teases as he lightly tugs on Aurora’s skirt, ushering her to sit beside him.

“But then I can’t see Dylan!”

“Thankfully the ceremony hasn’t started yet so there’s nothing for you to see.”

Vivian chuckles above him as Ro sticks out her tongue and the metalhead does the same.

“She’s definitely got some personality.”

“Yeah, she gets that from her mother.”, Steve jokes as he shifts James in his lap while the little boy continues to play with the man’s tie.

You smile his way but quickly focus back on the students in their seats on the lawn a feet away from the bleachers your family was sitting on. Dylan was laughing with his friends around him and occasionally winking at Daisy from her seat down the way. God, he had picked up way too much from Eddie.

This was a lot harder than you thought it would be. It felt like you were just holding him in arms feeding him a bottle and now suddenly he’s graduating high school. In a week he would be in a completely new state and living his own adult life.

Why did he have to grow up so fast?

The feeling of fingers brushing your hair behind your ear brought you back to realty before you were being pulled to Steve’s side.

“I know, baby. I know.”

A ringed hand encapsulated your own as Eddie kissed the back of it and didn’t let go till the end of the ceremony. Feeling little hands play with your hair, you tilt your head back to see Brody beaming wide before giggling and kissing your forehead.

“Yeah, he’s been doing that lately and we can’t figure out why.”, Vivian’s new boyfriend explained as he lifted him onto his lap.

An accountant, this man was definitely different from Charlie which having been a partner to him as well you understood why she would go down that route. Eddie and Steve liked him even though the metalhead would tease him from time to time when he got a bit too excited when talking about numbers. You and Dylan made sure to remind him that he was the exact same when it came to D&D and he immediately shut up.

“Ed here used to hug people when he was a toddler. Pure strangers, he would just run to them and give ‘em a hug.”, Wayne chimed in making Steve chuckle at the thought.

Your mom and Mrs. Harrington weren’t able to make it to the ceremony due to previous commitments they were unable to squeeze out of but Kierra promised to record everything which she did with her phone held high in the air. Wayne and Mrs. Harrington were honestly surprised Dylan wanted them there.

“They’re my grandparents to. Why wouldn’t I want them there?”

Steve’s mom cried when he told her and Eddie’s uncle turned into the equivalent of goo as he blushed.

Even after the months that had passed, your son followed through with not having Charlie there, the three of you sitting with him in his room as he made the call. He texted you after asking if it would be ok to swing by at least before he left for college and you told him you were ok with that.

Everyone quieted down as the principal walked across the stage and began the graduation ceremony.

###########

Your eyes shift between your husband and your four-year-old son as they pick at the food on their plates. Charlie’s fingers moved quickly along his phone and it killed you. You hated that thing and how much time he spent on it.

“Baby?”

“Hm.”

“Charles.”

“What, Y/N?”, he snaps.

“Why don’t you put your phone down, huh?”

“I’m talking to my boss.”

“Ok. Can he not wait until after dinner?” When he ignores you, your worried eyes glance towards Dylan whose wide observant ones immediately focused back down on his plate. “Charlie, come on. I’m asking for one hour.”

“Jesus.”, he whines as he slams down his device making you and your son jump. “I’m dealing with a big important thing for work…to make us money…for you and Dylan but sure! Let me put everything on the back burner! How was your day, honey?”

Throwing a scowl his way, you try to ignore his sarcasm but he persists.

“No, hey. My phones away, let’s talk! No? Ok, hey, Dil. How was your day?!” Without saying a word, your son gets up and runs to his bedroom. “Well that’s great.”

“What do you expect when you talk to him like that? Why is it so hard for you to be here and present with your family?”, you hiss.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Y/N?! Do you want this fucking roof over your goddamn heads?! That cost money, baby! Whatever. I’m fucking done with this conversation.”

Your jaw tightens as you listen to him get up, grab his jacket, and slam the front door as he leaves.

***

“Dylan? Weirdo, are you ok?” Your heart breaks when he doesn’t answer, pressing his little face further into his pillow. Sighing, you climb in beside him and run your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, baby. Daddy didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

Rolling over, he wraps his arms around you and you rest your head on his as you hold him tightly.

“Daddy’s always angry.”

“But never at you, Dylan. He loves you so much.”

“And you?”

“Does daddy love me? Yeah, honey, of course.”

“Den why he so mad all da time?”

You genuinely had no idea how to answer that question as you kissed his forehead. Your brain began to wonder as you thought about what would be best. Divorce popped in occasionally but you immediately shook away the notion. You and Charlie both lost your dads. You didn’t want that for him.

You can make this work. Maybe there’s something you could do to get the man you fell in love with back so the three of you could be happy.

***

Dylan excitedly runs in your direction but Aurora and James cut his parents off as they get to him first. The boy effortlessly picks them up with each arm and Steve grins as he takes a picture.

“I’m free!”

“We’re so proud of you, babe.”, Vivian praises as she kisses his cheek before Brody does the same making your son laugh.

“Very proud.”, Wayne smiles, thrown off when Dylan places his siblings down and gives the man a hug. Eddie chuckles through his teeth as his uncle lightly smacks his chest before wrapping his arms around the boy.

“How dare you make me feel old.”, Kierra playfully scolds as she kisses his face.

“A high school graduate and on your first go around!”, the metalhead jokes as he leans in for a hug. “You’re amazing, kid.”

“I guess I can’t call you ‘little man’ anymore.”, Steve says as he takes the boy in his arms.

“You still can and you can never stop calling me ‘weirdo’.”, Dylan replies gesturing towards you.

“You’re always going to be my little weirdo.”

He softly smiles as he bends to embrace you allowing you to circle your arms around his neck as he lifts you off your feet.

“I love you, mom. Thank you for everything.”

#############

A seven-year-old Dylan clings to your neck as you hold him to you against the wall of the pool at the apartment complex. Eddie insisted he could beat Steve in a race and the former swimmer promptly took the challenge.

“1! 2! 3! GO!”, your son shouted, giggling as both men splashed water everywhere as they took off.

“I told you!”, Steve gloated as he beat the metalhead effortlessly. “You went to school with me. You should have known better.”

Eddie pants as he finally reaches the wall beside you.

“Jesus, I need to stop smoking.”

You and Dylan laugh at him as the other boy pulls his body out of the pool and leans down to take the small boy from you.

“I’m starving. Munson is buying dinner since he sucks—lost—I mean lost.”

Scowling his way, the long-haired man helps you out of the water and wraps a towel around your body.

When you four make it back to the apartment, Steve sighs as he realizes he has a couple of missed calls.

“It’s from the store. I just need one minute.”

Dylan’s head hangs as he wraps his towel tighter around him and heads for his bedroom to change. Grabbing his arm, you stop him and move some of the hair that had stuck to his forehead.

“Hey Keith, what’s going on?...You need me to come in…” Eddie’s chocolate eyes watch both of you intensely as you cup your son’s face in your hands. “Ok, well, I’m not free today but if you call Robin she can help today and I can come in tomorrow.”

Your son’s head shot up to look towards Steve as he gave his boss a few more uh huhs before finally turning around and throwing his phone back down on your couch.

“What?”, he asked when he realized you three were watching him. “What’s wrong, little man? Everything ok?”

“Y-You…you don’t have to leave?”

“No? I’m spending the day with you, bud. Why would I even want to leave?”, he chuckled a bit confused. Tears leave the small boy’s eyes as he runs and practically tackles Steve’s legs.

“Thank you.”

“Hey. Go change so you can come back and tell Eddie what you want him to buy you.”, you instructed as you tickle his neck with your finger.

As soon as he disappears, you tackle your arms around his waist and lean your head on his chest.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not quite sure what I did but you’re both welcome.”

Tilting back, you softly press your lips to his.

“Thank you for being you.”

***

After putting Aurora to bed, you stepped outside on to your back porch where Eddie was already into his second cigarette with a beer in his hand. As you sat beside him on the steps, you scanned him over truly taking in how much he had changed in almost 12 years. He looked incredibly handsome in his button up short sleeve shirt and tie with black slacks that Steve insisted he wear to look more formal.

He had his hair pulled back for the ceremony but now it was down around his shoulders. As he brought the cigarette to this lips you couldn’t help but admire his wedding band that blended in perfectly with his other rings.

Visually, he still more or less looked the same with a few new signs of aging in his face and more laugh lines around his eyes but what really shifted was his demeanor. While Eddie always had an air of confidence, he seemed to carry it differently now that he was older. Most of the burdens he held before he no longer had because he was finally genuinely happy. He had everything he could have ever asked for and more.

Silently, he handed you his half-finished cigarette that you eagerly sucked on as he took a sip from the bottle in his hand.

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask as you lean against the rail beside you.

“You.”, he smiles. “Steve. Dylan. Ro. James. My family.”

“Anything in particular?”

His lips pout out slightly as he shakes his head and continues looking off towards the lake.

“When I caught Charlie and Vivian, I remember going off on him and then running out the door. I felt so lost and confused. I didn’t know where to go because I knew if I went home my mom would make me feel bad. I was too embarrassed at the time to go to Kierra’s and I didn’t have any friends I felt comfortable with. I pulled over on the side of the road and sobbed.”

Eddie’s hand reaches out to intertwine with yours making you smile as you glance in the distance was well. You both listened as shoes scooted along the wood, sliding over a chair as Steve exhaled taking a seat. The metalhead lifted his bottle in the air that the other man took and chugged back the remaining liquid.

“If you had told me then that I would be here in this big house where my two other kids are sleeping after seeing Dylan graduate high school and with two men who are not only fabulous husbands and partners but phenomenal dads to a little boy… who just wanted to be appreciated for who he was…”

The metalhead wiped his eyes as the tears began to flow from them both.

“I know…you said once that its easier for me to hold it all in when it comes to him but… Y/N, when his principal said ‘Dylan Munson-Harrington’… it all just hit me. All the memories and the fact that he’s leaving in a week. I mean this kid has been with us since the beginning.”

“Since day one.”, Steve added. “Shit. If you had told us the night before that tomorrow I would open the door to a little boy that would change everything… Y/N, growing up the thought of being a dad scared me but it always felt easy with him.”

“He always wanted to learn and asked me constantly to show him how to play my guitar.”, Eddie laughed. “I remember one of our first conversations was when we came over and I hooked up the video game system. I asked him what kind of games he liked and he just lit up, sweetheart. When he told me Charlie never liked the things he did or played with him he made me think of my dad. Allen was the same way and I didn’t want that for him.”

“And that’s just the beginning. Don’t even get me started on all the other feelings about how he’ll be the first Munson to go to school and get a degree.”, Eddie laughed as he leaned back against Steve’s leg. “I’m so proud of him but I’m really going to fucking miss him.”

“Me to.”

“Me to.”, you add. “Thank you for being you.”

##################

“Dad? Can I ask you something?”, a twelve-year-old Dylan inquires as Eddie starts to walk past his door after putting his sister to bed.

“Yeah, kid. What’s up?”

“How did you ask a girl out when you were my age?”

“Oof. I had all the girls lined up around the block to date me! Oh, wait, that was Steven.”, he teased making his son laugh. “When I was your age I had this huge crush on a girl in my English class. She was one of the popular kids and I was terrified to say anything. But one day we got paired up for a project and I made her laugh. Just started acting like a total dork and she loved it.”

“So…be funny?”

“I mean, there’s a bit more to it but…” Eddie pauses as he starts to panic, fearful he’s giving the boy the worst advice. “Look, Dylan, my dad wisdom to you? Just be yourself. Steve and I had an ex that was so uptight. She hated that I ‘couldn’t be serious.’ Truth was she didn’t like me for me. Your mom on the other hand loves my nerdy ass and my sense of humor.”

Dylan beams as his dad pulls him in for a hug.

“Can I find out who this girl is? I swear I won’t tell Y/N.”

“It’s, um, I kind of…really like…Daisy.”

Eddie tries to contain his giddiness at his son’s admission. Steve had called it a long time ago and you had mentioned how cute he seemed to get every time Daisy would come over.

“Dude, come on. She definitely likes you for you. I see you make her laugh all the time and listen to her when she seems upset. You offered to help her with school. You’re a good dude.”

“But what if she only wants to be friends?”

“Then that’s ok to and you know no matter what the three of us will be here with pizza and beer to cure your heartache.”

“Mom won’t let you give me beer!”, Dylan chuckles.

“Meh, you’re right. Ok, Steve and I will sneak you into the bar then.”

***

It was so soft you barely felt it at first, both their lips kissing and sucking on either side of your neck. When your eyes fluttered open, you took in the scene before you. Eddie and Steve were pressed against your sides, their arms thrown over your body as palms rubbed along your tummy and chest. There was a neediness behind their subtle movements that had you whimpering as you arched your head back to allow them more access as their mouths opened wider to run their tongues along your skin.

Steve was the first to move, placing his body on top of yours and pulling down his boxers enough to free his cock. As he leaned back on his heels to remove his shirt, the metalhead’s lips mingled with your own, his hand cupping your cheek to keep you facing him. After wrapping your legs around his waist, the other man guided himself into your entrance and Eddie mewled as you heavily exhaled at the feeling.

Steve’s large, soft hand traveled to your breasts, kneading your tits as he rolled his hips at steady pace. When his palm finds your throat, his eyes meet yours and you nod earnestly granting him permission before lightly squeezing it between his fingers.

Jumping to the side, Eddie hastily removes his clothes, stroking his cock at the sight of you both as he crawls back in beside you. Opening your mouth, now desperate to taste him, he accepts your invitation, moaning loudly as your tongue plays with his tip and your head bobs.

Slanting his lower half till he was hovering just above you, Steve thrusts into you harder and faster as his own tongue extends out to help you lick his husband’s length. After readjusting himself, the metalhead clung to the other man’s hair as he pumped his dick down his throat causing him to slightly gag and constrict around him while you clung to Steve’s shoulders smothering your moans against his skin.

It was almost too much as your pussy quivered around him and you came, his palm immediately coming to cover your mouth as he fucked you through your high. Eddie laid back down on his side, tilting his head to kiss the lips of the man he loved as he grunted and his warm release filled you up.

Taking you in his arms, the long-haired boy maneuvered you around until you were on top of him with your back against his chest. You couldn’t help but shiver against his body as he ran his leaking tip through your dripping folds, grazing your clit and making you whine.

As soon as his cock entered you, he set an animalistic pace as his dick slammed into your sensitive spot repeatedly.

“Oh, fu--!”

Eddie’s ring covered hand cut you off, covering your mouth as you started to scream at the sudden feeling of Steve’s tongue flicking your bundle of nerves. Your own hand rested on his as your fingers intertwined with the one he had gripping your stomach.

The way he groaned in your ear, you knew the pretty boy was altering between you and Eddie as he played with your nub and sucked on the other man’s balls. It drove him wild as he pushed against your back, forcing you to sit up as he grabbed both sides of your hips and guided your movements.

Steve’s fingers slid into your mouth, hoping to silence you as he continued pleasuring you both. As you neared your climax, it wasn’t enough and Eddie flipped you over so you could shove your face into the pillow and shout as you fell over the ledge. Lying flat against your back, he held your hands as his forehead leaned against your shoulder warming your skin as he panted.

Grunts filled your ears and with a few more rough thrusts, he emptied inside of you.

You laid there quietly until Steve motioned for you both to follow and guided you two in the shower with him. You allowed them to clean you as you watched them carefully, Eddie closing his eyes as he leaned his head back under the hot water and Steve sighing as he pressed his back against the cold tile.

“I’m proud of you two.” Their heads lifted to look at you as you continued. “He may be the first Munson to go to college but he learned that hard work ethic for you, Eddie. You own your own store and work hard to take care of everyone not just us. Steve, you showed him he could achieve anything he wanted by following your dream and becoming a teacher.”

“My son was always a good kid but because of you two he’s happy. I’m going to miss him but I’m not worried about his future because of everything you both have done for him. I’ll never be able to thank you properly…”

As the tears start to flow arms wrap around you from behind and Steve promptly tugs you both forward as he presses your head to his chest.

“I would hold that thought…we still have two kids left to fuck up.”

You and the man in front of you giggle at Eddie’s comment as the heavy air breaks and you shake your head as you turn around to give him a big hug.

#############

A six-year-old Dylan smiles up at you from his place in bed as he waits for you to tuck him in.

A couple of nights ago, Eddie and Steve had come over to spend time with him when his father bailed and that night you three were intimate in their apartment after he had gone to bed. It had been two days since you saw them and you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

“Mommy? When are we going to hang out wit-wit Eddie and Steve again?”

Softly grinning, you climbed in beside him and he promptly curled up at your side.

“You liked spending time with them?”

“Yeah! Mom, Eddie is-is-is so funny and Steve said he would play basketball wit me. I love them!”

“Oh my goodness!”, you tease as you pull him close and kiss the top of his head. “Yeah, they were fun to hang out with and they told me that you’re an amazing kid.”

He blushes as you smile, turning off his little lamp as you continue to run your fingers through his hair.

“Do you like hanging out wit dem?”

“Yeah, baby, I did.”

“Good cause…you seem…different…around dem…”

“Different how, weirdo?”

“Happy.”

***

James and Aurora clung to Dylan’s neck as their dads finished putting the last remaining boxes in the U-Haul.

“Guys, I’m not going away forever and you know I’ll call you both every day.”

“You promise you’ll come home for Christmas and my birthday?”

“Of course, Ro. Unless you get a boyfriend you’d rather hang out with.”

“I didn’t hear that.”, Steve teases making them laugh.

“Love you, bra-der.”

“I love you to, kid.”

“Ok, guys we have to let Dylan go.” Your voice cracked as you lightly pulled on your daughter’s curls. “Rara, why don’t you and James go watch some TV and I will make you guys lunch in a minute, ok?”

After giving them one last kiss, he drops them to their feet and both kids wave before running inside the house. He grins down at you as you wrap your arms around him and he holds you tightly.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you to, mom.”

The sound of the truck clanging shut pulled you both apart as you kissed his cheek and he playfully whined as he lightly pushed you. Both men shuffled slowly around the corner as they waited for their turn to say goodbye.

Smiling their way, you scooted towards the porch and sat on the steps so they could be alone.

“So, let us know when you get there and that you and Daisy are safe.”

“And if you need anything and I mean anything just give us a call and we’ll fly right over no questions asked.”, Eddie added making Dylan grin.

“I know you would and that’s why you’re my dads.”, he replied. “I don’t remember a whole lot from their marriage but I do remember my mom was always trying to keep it together. Always carrying this burden that she thought I couldn’t see. The first time I ever saw her genuinely smile was that first time you two came over.”

“Daisy and I have been talking these past couple of weeks and she feels bad about leaving her mom here with her dad. It wasn’t until she said it that I realized, I don’t have that problem because I know she’s safe with you.”

“Jesus Christ, kid.”, Eddie chuckled as he tried to hide the tears that had fallen. “Still the fucking kid spy for the CIA or some shit.” Everyone laughed including you even though you couldn’t hear their conversation. “You’ve always been really smart and so fucking kind. I know you always used to say how much you loved that we listened to you and cared about things you were into but you have no idea how much it meant to me when you did that for me. The way you listened to me babble about D & D and guitar—”

“Hey, now, the guitar is awesome.”

“Yeah it is.”, the metalhead grins. “What I’m trying to say is I was always afraid of becoming Allen but you taught me that as a father and a man I could be like Wayne… I love you, kid, and I’m so fucking proud of you.”

He leans in to give his son a hug and you smile as you picture the small kid that played video games with him 24/7. The young boy that ran into Eddie’s arms after his talent show where he had taught him to play the guitar. The little boy who in his most terrifying moment called the metalhead first to come help him because he felt safe with him.

“I know I can be a bit overprotective but…”, Steve laughed breathily as they beamed at him. “…Like Ed said, you were such a good kid and I hated, fucking hated, when Charlie would hurt you. No one ever stood up for me when I was growing up. I was always alone in our big house and anytime my dad was an asshole I just kind of absorbed it. I didn’t want that for you…any of you three. I knew I wanted my kids to have a happy home where they felt safe coming to me. Dylan, you were my son before you even started calling me dad. Even if you had decided to keep your last name and kept calling him dad, you would still be our son. I love you to, little man.”

As they embrace and your oldest begins to cry against his shoulder, you see the six-year-old that clung to Steve when he was in the hospital sick with a fever. The small boy who stood down an adult like Mr. Harrington and scolded him for being rude to “his daddy”. The young man who held him tightly as his own biological parent broke his heart and he listened to the man he now saw as his father defend and protect him.

“Ok, ok. Come on. You have to go. Daisy is waiting for you.” Steve lifts the boys head and wipes his tears with his thumbs as they both grin at him comfortingly. “And you’re right by the way. She is safe with us. Nothing bad is going to happen to Y/N or your siblings, ok?”

Nodding, he gives you one final wave as he hops into the truck and slowly begins driving down the road.

“Are you ok?”, you ask as you come up behind them.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You?”

“I’m sure I will be.”

“Yeah…”, Eddie agrees as he pulls your back against his chest and rests his head on your shoulder. “At least I get my guitar room back.”

“Oh really?!”, Steve shouts as the metalhead takes your hand and the three of you head towards your front door. “I thought we all agree I could have an office.”

“Yes, Steven, because grading papers requires a whole room for you.”

“Eddie, stop it.”, you giggle as you push up on your toes to kiss their lips.

##################

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @strangerfreak

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86 @dashingdeb16 @thwippyparker

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction

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bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 7 months

Note

Andrew and Ashley x Male reader who can commune with the dead?

Gotcha gotcha

Graves Siblings x Medium!Male Reader

To be completely honest….the ability to talk to ghosts isn’t as cool as it sounds

Most would expect ghosts to hang around graveyards or abandoned buildings like a school, or a hospital, or a house- but no. They were everywhere

To be honest, it made sense. Why would a ghost want to hang around where they died? Thats just depressing

So, they wander. Following their loved ones. Trying to live an empty husk of their old life. Being fucking weird.

Which made it hard for you to tell the difference a lot of the time. Sometimes you’d talk to a person and they’d turn out to be a ghost!

Now you look crazy!

Like recently…

The sidewalks were virtually empty. It was getting late into the evening, and it made sense that people would head home. You yourself were making your way back to your apartment building when you spotted something….strange.

A girl. A little girl. She looked no older than…7 maybe? In all honesty you were never good guessing ages, but you knew enough to deduce that this kid was too young to be by herself. She looked around anxiously, her blonde pigtails moving every time she turned her head. Her hands fussed with the hem of her purple shirt that had a flower on it. It looked like she was looking for her parent.

You were- hesitant about walking over. A strange man approaching a child in the middle of the sidewalk looked sketchy, especially since you were nowhere near looking like this kid’s parents. But- you figured that if you didn’t, some actual creep would. So, you hesitantly stepped towards her.

“Heyyy…kid,” the girl flinched a little as you approached, making you regret your decision. Though, it was too late to turn back now so, “Uh- where’s your mom?..”

The girl blinked up at you and then looked away, hands still fidgeting with her shirt, “Away…” she sounded sad.

“Your dad?..” you raised an eyebrow.

“Also away..” she shrunk a little, this seemed like a touchy subject.

Picking up the vibe, you steered clear of parent related questions, “Are you…looking for someone? You look lost.”

She glanced up at you, and then back to her hands- her purple eyes welling with tears, “Y-Yeah…” she squeaked out.

“Well, maybe I can help you find them,” you knelt down to her height, “There aren’t a lot of people out right now, so it shouldn’t be too hard…do you remember what they look like?”

The girl nodded, “Uhh…two adults. Black hair. A boy with green eyes and a girl with pink eyes.”

Two black haired adults with green and pink eyes. Okay! Easy enough! Must be siblings…or babysitters….or….some third thing. You stood up, “Okay! Should be easy enough!” You held your hand out for the little girl, “My name is Y/N, what’s yours?”

The little girl studied your hand curiously, taking it with a small smile, “Nina!”

You and Nina searched for the adults she was supposed to be with, until you came across them sitting and eating in the outdoor area of a restaurant

You were…baffled. These people supposedly lost track of the kid they were supposed to be watching and decided to get something to eat???

You were reconsidering handing this kid over to them, but what were you going to do? Take her to the authorities? You didn’t exactly trust pigs around this kid either, so you approached the table

The pair looked at you with hostility, the man reading a paper and the woman poking it in boredom. You were clearly interrupting something. Maybe they hadn’t noticed Nina…

“Uhm- sorry if I’m interrupting anything..” you stammered, “But, I think you lost something?..” you nodded your head to where Nina was standing beside you.

Both black haired individuals narrowed their eyes at you, looks of confusion clear across their faces.

“What the fuck are you on about?…” the woman’s eyes narrowed.

You felt yourself grow flushed with embarrassment, Nina hasn’t said anything or run to hug either of these individuals….it also felt like she wasn’t holding your hand anymore…

You glanced down at your side, and lo and behold- Nina was gone. You whipped around, looking around like a mad man for the kid.

“Wh- what the?” Your eyes widened and you held out your hands defensively, “I swear there was a kid here!”

The man leaned towards the woman, whispering to her loud enough for you to hear, “You have your gun on you, right?..” the woman nodded.

Shit! Okay! Sweat poured down your face as you nervously looked around some more to avoid getting shot, “I-I swear! There was a kid here, about like….7? Maybe younger? Blonde pigtails, purple shirt with a flower on it,” you didn’t notice both individuals eyes widen, “Her name was Nina—“

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT NAME?!” The woman grabbed you by your shirt collar, pulling you close. She stared daggers at you, looking ready to kick you in the groin before shooting you dead. You gulped.

“Ashley!” The man slammed the newspaper down, reprimanding her to let you go. Ashley obliged, though turned away and grumbled. The man gave her a final glare before looking at you, “I’m sorry about her,” he had a calm demeanor…but there was something uneasy about his voice, “You said…Nina?”

You nodded, “Yeeaahhh, but I’m starting to realize that…might’ve just been a ghost. Whoops.” You held out your hands anxiously.

“Dumb bitch is still following you around?” Ashley muttered under her breath.

You turned your attention to her, “I’m sorry what?”

“Don’t mind her,” the man smiled uneasily, “I’m Andrew…now- what the fuck did you mean by ‘might’ve been a ghost’? Is this a…regular occurrence?”

“Kinda..” you rubbed the back of your neck nervously, “I kind have this sixth sense. Some people have increased empathy, I can talk to body detached spirits!” You looked Andrew and Ashley over, “Did you- know this Nina?”

“No!” They both said in perfect unison, Ashley seemingly offended while Andrew was very defensive. They clearly knew her, but you weren’t going to press any further.

“Oooookkaayyyyyy..” you adverted your gaze from their terrifying…yet alluring…ones.

You wanted to run away and hopefully never run into these people again, but they were insistent on keeping you in sight

However they knew this Nina, it was something serious.

Ashley didn’t seem to take the fact that she was still following them around very well

Andrew consistently had to calm her down from making a scene

And truthfully….watching them banter was fun

You’d idly stare at the pair, going back and forth with empty threats and remarks the other would make about those threats. It was fun. It was nice

Andrew decided it was best to keep in touch with you, given you running into Nina- though how he said it made it seem like the two had multiple dead people that would be tailing them

You didn’t say this out loud though

The more time you spent with the siblings, your theory became correct

You slowly noticed more and more spirits hanging around the three of you: A scorned looking middle aged woman with similars eyes to Andrew’s, a hooded man with his limbs floating behind him, another hooded man with thick sunglasses and a mask that obscured his face- you could go one.

You never talked with these ghosts, really the only one you did speak to was Nina- though Ashley didn’t like it when you two spoke. She didn’t like Nina in general

If she caught you talking with her, or making motions to indicate she was around- Ashley would spew profanities and horrible things til she went away

It was cruel…and you kind of hated her for it at first

Though the more time you spent with the siblings, you came to realize that they were just….broken individuals

Terrible people put into shitty circumstances

It was almost…disheartening

If things had been different, would they have turned out better? The same? Worse?

It hurt your heart more than you wanted to admit…

You knew your feelings towards these two, at first you assumed it to be just fleeting physical attraction- I mean- look at them!

But no- turns out spending time with people increased your attraction to them. Who knew!

You like to think at least one of them felt the same

You knew the whole reason they kept you around was to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t know anything you shouldn’t have

At least at first it was

Andrew was the first to catch feelings for you

His love of the macabre led to conversations, questions on if you’ve ever spoken with ghosts of poets or writers he was interested in

He didn’t have to know you totally lied when you said yes

Unfortunately you had to read up on old English poets in case he asked about them, but it was a worthy sacrifice

He was just happy to have someone to talk to about an interest that wouldn’t make fun of him

Ashley didn’t take too kindly to this, which is why she fell slower

She didn’t buy any of your kindness, acting distant and cold with you- especially as you got closer with Andrew

It was also causing tension between the two, you could just guess it

So you took the initiative, deciding to spend the day just you and Ashley

Ashley was going to spend the day with you whether she liked it or not…and right now it was looking like a not. Since you two arrived at the park, she hadn’t said a word to you. The only response you would get is a cold shoulder or an icy glare that cut like a knife. It was a little painful to be honest. You never wanted to piss her off or make her hate you, genuinely you wanted to get closer to her. But Ashley was proving to be difficult…

“Sky sure is pretty today!” You said, attempting to break the awkward and tense silence. It did not work, as Ashley continued to ignore you. You wanted nothing more than to book it into the nearby duck pond and just drown, putting this awkward attempt at bonding.

You were walking down a trail, Ashley actively stepping on the cracks as she walked. In the corner of your eye you spotted the familiar spirit of the middle aged woman. Her lighter green eyes narrowing at Ashley.

“What are you looking at?” Ashley’s voice pierced the silence like a katana. You blinked down at her, her eyes narrowed up at you.

“Uhhh,” you glanced at the ghost, “Just a ghost hanging around.”

“Who?”

Holy crap she’s actually talking to you! Don’t fuck this up…

“I haven’t really spoken with her..uh- black hair. Green eyes. Middle aged..” you shrugged your shoulders.

That was apparently the wrong answer- as most of your responses to Ashley were- as she clammed up. This time with more anger. Her eyes darted in the direction you’d been looking in, trying to give the ghost a death glare. Must be another person the siblings had history with, given how similar she looked to them they must be related.

Hmmm….maybe this could be put to your advantage?…

“You know I can talk with ghosts…” you said rather nonchalantly, “I could…deliver a message to this ghost if you want..”

Ashley’s eye seemed to light up at that. For the first time since meeting her, you think you said the right thing.

Ashley’s message to the ghost woman, and any other you came across, was vulgar and worthy of eating soap if you were to repeat it to a living person

A lot of use of the word “hussy” and “cunt”

But you delivered every message, informed Ashley when a ghost was staring at her….minus Nina of course

A ghost child is still a child, and she seemed like too good of a kid to be in the front of Ashley’s wrath

But Ashley didn’t need to know that

For once, she seemed to genuinely enjoy your company. Describing you as “pretty alright” to Andrew

Success!

From then things felt…less tense between the three of you

You were less of a hostage to them and more of a friend

And if you played your cards right….eventually you might be more

#the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #andrew graves #tcoaal #andrew graves x reader #ashley graves x reader #x reader

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lostgirlmuseum · 9 months

Text

The Swan and the Soldier

^made w/ pinterest

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader

Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer.

Words: 5.6k (oops)

Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything

A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit

(Dividers by me😎)

“You want me to what?”

Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.

“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”

Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way.

“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.

“Well—”

“Shut up.”

“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”

“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”

“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”

“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”

“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”

“Sam, I don’t think I can—”

“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.

“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump.

“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”

“He said what now?”

“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.

“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”

AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.

“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”

“Samuel.”

“You can say no,”

“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated.

“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone.

“This is manipulation.”

“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.

Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”

“Big time! Promise.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.

“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.

“Love you too, Buddy.”

Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.

“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”

Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.

“James Barnes?”

Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.

Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner.

Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.

“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.”

Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.

“Now is fine."

“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.

She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”

“Oh, none of them.”

He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.

“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”

Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.

“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”

“Oh? All good things I hope?”

He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.

“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.

“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”

“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”

“That’s cool.”

Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.

“Do you still dance?”

“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”

“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.

She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.

“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”

Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”

‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?

He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.

“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”

Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.

She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.

“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!”

“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N.”

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.”

He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.

Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.

“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.

“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.

“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”

“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.

“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”

Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.

“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.

“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.

“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”

“Oh, um…”

“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.

Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.

“I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”

“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”

Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.

“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”

“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.

It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.

“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.

“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”

“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.

“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”

“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”

Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”

“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”

“Oh.”

Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”

Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.

“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”

There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.

“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”

“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.

“Bye, metal man.”

“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Whatever.”

“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”

Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.

“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”

Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.

“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”

Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest.

The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions.

“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.

Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous.

Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.

“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”

Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!

You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”

“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.

The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little.

Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?

She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.

“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.

Everyone stepped forward.

The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?

“Group three!”

Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous.

Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.

“And four,”

He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.

He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.

“Excellent! Let’s move on.”

Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves.

“You ready to go, AJ?”

AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”

“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.

The little girl looked up at him unphased.

“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”

Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”

“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”

Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.

“So can you fly?” She squinted.

“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.

“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.

“Yep!”

“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”

Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.

“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.

“Bye!” AJ shouted.

Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.

“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly.

“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Bucky.”

Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,

“Only friends and family call him that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.

“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”

“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.”

He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”

“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”

“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”

“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”

Bucky nodded.

She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.

“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.

“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.

“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”

“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.

“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.”

“Where did you want to go?”

“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,”

Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”

“Just water is fine,”

“Sure, one second.”

Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned.

Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies.

“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”

Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.

“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.

She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.

Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page.

There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls.

“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.

Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.

Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.

“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”

Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.

“You were the swan?”

“Odette, yeah.”

Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.

“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”

She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.

“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”

“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.

They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.

“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.

It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.

“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.

She obliged and restarted the music.

They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush.

“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!”

Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg.

“I used to be better,” he mumbled.

“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.

Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.

It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.

“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.

“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”

“I forgot my gloves.”

“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.

“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”

“Is AJ not waiting for you?”

“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”

“Gotcha.”

A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you stop dancing?”

She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.

“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.

“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”

Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.

“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.

“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”

Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”

“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.

“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.”

Bucky blushed.

“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”

“What is?”

“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”

“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.

“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”

“Charming?”

“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”

“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”

“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.

Bucky pursed his lips.

“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”

“More than willing.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”

She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.

“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”

The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.

“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.

“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”

“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped.

“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”

Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.

“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I like dancing with you.

A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything

If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist

Happy holidays!

#bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #tfatws!Bucky #dancer!reader #costumer!reader #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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ellievickstar · 2 years

Text

Second Place 🥈 (Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Reader is Wednesday’s cousin and has always felt inferior to the raven haired girl.

A/N: So I watched Wednesday….please tell me I’m not the only one that thought Tyler’s voice was low key hot when he was confessing everything to Wednesday at the police station. But, I am team Xavier. So as some of you know I ran into a bit of a writer’s block, and I was reading some angst and then poof, inspiration. So enjoy my imagination that I acted out to figure out what the characters were going to say. Also, just angst. Yeah, angst. But also fluff.

Inspired? Definitely, by someone. Multiple people. Fanfiction writers that have written Wednesday fanfiction.

Masterlist? Yeah, that doesn’t exist yet. I’m working on it. Don’t judge me.

Requested? No. Uh no, I’ve disappeared for a bit so everyone forgot abt me HAHAHAHA (I have issues okay? I’m sorry T^T)

WARNINGS- I forgot warnings….uhhh: insecure reader, angst to fluff

(Side note: Xavier is a hufflepuff or slytherin, and the gif is not mine)

~*~*~*~*~

Rain patted down your windows as you listened to Fester and Wednesday talk. Fester was your dad, and though you did not mind his absence most days, you couldn’t deny that you were hurt. Why would your father visit his niece, yet not spare a minute to check in on you.

However, you were not surprised. Growing up, you noticed how Fester was more affectionate towards Wednesday compared to you. When he came back from trips he always greeted you with a pat on your head and a smile. Wednesday, on the other hand, was hugged and they joked and laughed together. They had this unspeakable bond. It made you jealous, but you didn’t require a father, and you wouldn’t in the future.

A soft knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts. Your attention snapped to open threshold. Xavier, your childhood best friend, was leaning against the door frame.

“Hi,” he smiled. You grinned back at the tall brunette. Xavier had first met you during his godmother’s funeral. While Wednesday felt like it would be amusing for Xavier to scream until the adults found him, you had immediately sprinted for the red button that kept him from being burnt alive.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Nightshade library?” You asked. From what you knew, Xavier intended on doing some research in the secret library about the monster.

“I am,” He confessed, “But I wanted you to help me.” You pretended to think, but you couldn’t say no to his soft, pleading, green eyes. He hummed with delight as you rose from your bed and set down the book that you had had no luck reading.

~*~*~*~*~

“Uncle Fester?” Wednesday called out as she entered the Nightshade’s library.

“Who’s Uncle Fester?” Xavier asked as he seemed to materialise from the shadows. “My father,” You replied as you scanned through the last page of the book you held before putting it back in it’s rightful place.

You watched as Wednesday and Xavier insulted each other, it reminded you of squabbling rats. You rolled your eyes when Wednesday said that he liked her. Then you paused. No, it wasn’t possible. Xavier could not like Wednesday after she kept pushing him away.

“Wow!” Fester commented. You whipped your head around to him as he came out of absolutely no where.

“How long have you been lurking?” You demanded. “Long enough to feel the tension between Wednesday and Xavier! Seriously, you could cut it with an executioner’s axe,” He smirked. Wednesday’s eyes widened. You winced at the blatant reminder that your childhood best friend clearly liked Wednesday more then you, like everyone else.

The patter of fingers distracted you. Thing showed up from behind a pillar and Fester seemed so happy to see him…until thing started to throttle him over an old mission. You rolled your eyes. This was not new to you, Thing complained to you all the time about Fester, especially after they returned from a mission together.

“Stop,” Wednesday snapped. You froze as well at her intimidating tone. Wednesday was always the scary one. You giggled as Fester turned around, Thing still held on to the side of his mouth as they both looked at Wednesday innocently. Wednesday rolled her eyes this time.

Soon after, Fester approached the picture of Iggy Itt, one of the ancestors of the Nightshades, a distant relatives of you and Wednesday, as you recalled. Behind the portrait was a safe. You were astounded as you never noticed the safe when you were poking around the old portrait.

“Can you crack this one quickly, or do I have time for a nap?” Fester remarked. Thing stretched his fingers as he begun to fiddle around with the number combinations. After a minute or two, Fester let out an exaggerated yawn before saying, “you know, this is starting to become a replay of Kalamazoo.” Just as he finished his sentenced, the safe opened with a creek and Thing turned to give a little bow.

The safe only held a diary, Nathaniel Faulkner’s old diary. You had overheard Fester and Wednesday speak about it when he was in her room. Wednesday flipped through the pages before pointing to a well sketched drawing of the monster.

Scanning the pages you absorbed the information like a sponge. The monster roaming around the school grounds was called a Hyde. The Hyde required a master in order to be unlocked or a traumatic event. You have to manipulate the Hyde into doing your bidding by using hypnosis or by other means.

“This means…” You muttered as you pointed at the sketch of the master and the bowing Hyde. “It means we’re not looking for one killer, but two,” “The Hyde and it’s master,” You agreed with your cousin. “Whoever that wants to unlock a Hyde is a next level psycho,” Fester murmured. And he was right.

~*~*~*~*~

You left the Nightshade library soon after with Fester, the both of you knew that it was best to leave Wednesday alone when she wanted to think.

“Look, YN” Fester started, “I know about what happened,” You paused. Turning back to face the tall man, you feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what your talking about,” “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” You had never seen Fester lose his cool. He always seemed to be happy and optimistic. But now, he seemed irritated.

“I’m sorry that I was absent during your childhood. Most of all because I left you with your horrible mother. I was angry at you when you told her off during the family reunion but when Gomez drove her away, I dug into what happened when I was absent,” He explained. He begun to pull out your medical records. All of it was your personal medical reports from when-

“I found this at the hospital nearest our home. Your mother kept everything under wraps because she didn’t want anyone to find out what she was doing to you. Gomez seemed to crack the case first, which was why your mother left when you were thirteen,” You remembered that day.

You had awoken to an empty house, had run all the way to Uncle Gomez’s Family estate with tears in your eyes as you begged him to find your mother. He had refuse and told you that it was for the best that your mother left.

From what you could remember, your mother was abusive from a very young age. It only began to become physical when you were nine or ten. You were often brought to the hospital because of how hard she beat you and sometimes, she grabbed the closest thing to hit you with. It varied from flame pokers to golf clubs to even a vacuum stick at one point.

Why she hit you? Well, you were the spitting image of your father and his absence made her irritable. She used you as a form of punching bag. If she wasn’t hitting you, she used her words and it hurt like blades and daggers being stabbed into your back. She most often compared you to your cousin, Wednesday. From grades to fighting skills, she critiqued and compared the both of you. You were either the best, or a failure. Your cousins perfect grades didn’t help, nor did her shaky record and habit of getting the two of you into trouble.

You began to harbour resentment against the girl. The raven haired cousin who always had the perfect the grades, the perfect family, the perfect attitude. The one who gave zero effs about what other people thought of her, the one that had Xavier pinning for her because he strongly believed that she was the one who helped him out of that casket. The one who didn’t have to dress up to be pretty, who didn’t need to try hard to get people to like her because she didn’t care.

You wanted that. You wanted a mother who didn’t criticise every little thing you did. You wanted a mother who would be by your side. You wanted a mother who didn’t care about what you wear, who only cared that you were happy. You wanted to grow up thinking that only your opinion mattered. You wanted to be first place for once. You wanted, more then anything, to be the best, to not seem so insignificant compared to your cousin.

You stared into the guilty looking eyed of the man you used to call your father before he left you, time and time again, with that horrible excuse of a mother.

“I don’t need your apologies. I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” You deadpanned as you began to walk away. And as you did so, you could have sworn that you heard Fester say, “Then why do you not call me your father anymore?”

~*~*~*~*~

“Why so down?” Xavier asked as he dashed paint again on the canvas. You hummed as you looked down at your empty sheet again. You were usually good at biology but Fester’s words kept bothering you. It felt like you were spiralling and the nightmares. The nightmares sucked. It kept feeling like you were back in that house, that you were still scared to wake up to your mother’s yelling.

You flipped through your textbook for something to help you write your essay. Defeated, you closed the text book and stuffed the empty paper in your bag with your books. “Hey,” Xavier stopped to look at you, “You know you can talk to me, right?” You nodded, but your next train of thought was:

‘Well not really because I can’t exactly tell you about how I’m starting to spiral because I’m slowly starting to believe I’m no good compared to my cousin, who you also so happened to probably like because you are so damned interested in her. You look at her like she’s the only person in the world and I wished that you out of all people would like me for me, and not because I’ve done anything for you, or helped you, or have because I have anything to offer, but i know that’s not possible because compare too Wednesday I might as well be insignificant.’

“I’m going back to my dorm, if I’m not there then I’ll be at the library,” You said as you got up to leave. “Uh-uh, sit down,” Xavier commanded, pointing to the chair that you just got up from. He pulled a stool from the corner and sat opposite you. “What’s going on?” He asked, trying his best to look you in the eyes. You looked away, silently begging him to let this all go and to continue with his painting of…

“Is that Wednesday!?” You blurted out as you spied the unfinished painting. Xavier flushed as he stuttered, “I just, well, no- I just-” You stood up quickly and left without another word. Tears flooded your eyes. It’s not like you didn’t know that he obviously liked your cousin, it just hurt to see the confirmation. Xavier mostly painted things that either haunted him, or made him passionate. The monster was something that haunted him, and before he dated Bianca he painted her too.

Yet, even as his best friend, you have never seen him paint a single portrait of you, let alone sketch you as practice.

It felt childish, but you stormed to the library, ready to let out some steam. The library was notorious for it’s good acoustics…and the number of student who made out here. You pulled out your violin, the smaller instrument from the string instrument as compared to cello. “And apparently the ‘easier’ instrument” You murmured bitterly. You had first started violin because you found the instrument fascinating. Your mother had been extremely supportive, until Wednesday picked up the cello a few weeks later. In her words, the violin was pathetic and unimpressive compared to the low octave and precision of the cello. It wasn’t even that impressive! By far, the violin probably was the most solo pieces in history and the most impressive composers known for composing the most difficult pieces were either Rachmaninoff or Paganini! One of which played the violin and was literally nicknamed the ‘devil violinist’.

You sighed again as you tuned the violin according to memory. It’s not like you had a piano near-by. You breathed in as you began your favourite Sarasate symphony (A/N: I hate making author’s notes mid-fic but if you want to know which symphony I’m talking about it’s Sarasate Malagueña Op 21 No 1. I know it’s not technically a symphony but I didn’t know how to dumb it down. Also, I do actually play the violin so this was so fun to write but I also had to hold back from spewing more really random facts)

When you finally finished playing it over and over again four times, you heard clapping from behind you. You turned around to see Ms Thornhill.

“Well, most students usually make out here and I was so surprised to hear Sarasate! Big fan of classical music?” She smiled warmly. You gave a polite smile back as you nodded, “Sorry if I disturbed you but I just love the smell of book and I love playing,” She laughed, “I much rather catch a beautiful piece then two students making out,” You flushed. “I wouldn’t call it beautiful-” “No way! You are gifted YN, maybe even more then your cousin in terms of music,” Her sentence made you flush again. Many people seemed to always think that cello was a lot harder then violin because of it’s sheer size, they always focuse on praising Wednesday’s gifts, being shocked on how she was able to write three novels while mastering an instrument.

You thanked Ms Thornhill for her compliments before picking up your violin case, you decided to bring it back to your dorm today instead of leaving it in the library.

~*~*~*~*~

“is that a violin?” Yoko asked as she looked poked at the case. “Yes,” You replied as you jotted down the last sentence of your biology essay. “How have I not known this last few months?” “Cause you didn’t need to know,” I said.

She huffed as she exited the room. Probably to go hang out with her friends or go on a date. You opened your music score sheets as you wrote down notes at areas you constantly made mistakes.

A soft knock caught your attention. The flash of green eyes and the familiar soft smile made your heart flutter.

“Busy?” He asked, motioning to the scores on your desk. You shook your head. “It’s not like I’m gonna figure out a good fingering any time soon, it’s been driving me crazy,” “That’s what she said,” He joked as he came close, observing the score and the numbers already written. “You know that’s not what I meant,” You hit him lightly. “You should change the C to an A1 so that you’d be on second position, shifting would be easier,” You were almost going to laugh. Surely, you probably already tried that, but as you rewrote the numbers, you were shocked.

“How did you-” “I started reading into music theory, specifically string instruments after…” You stopped listening. Of course, of course he read into music theory after he found out Wednesday played the cello. You turned to him as you spied flowers being held behind his back.

“Are those for Wednesday?” You asked as you pointed to the bouquet of beautiful purple mallows. “You probably should have gotten Black dahillas, that’s her favourite colour and flower. I’m actually surprised you didn’t at least get a black flower, but purple mallows are my favourite, I keep spare Dahillas for special occasions for Wednesday so I can give you one to put in the bouquet-” “The flowers are for you,” Xavier interrupted.

You raised you eyebrows. “I don’t understand,” You began but you were quickly interrupted as Xavier suddenly pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second. He pulled away as he kneeled before you, holding your waist after setting down the flowers on your desk.

“I know that you think you’re second place to your cousin in every way. But, not to me. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You might think that you’re not beautiful, but you only see yourself in mirrors or photos. You don’t see yourself when your excited for lunch, or when you watch the newest marvel movie trailers, or even when you finally master a new piece on the violin. I overheard you and your father talk and I know that your mother didn’t see you for you, but I love you. Not for the achievements you have or the grades you get. I love your excitement, your sensitivity, your empathy towards others. I love how you’ve struggled and you still find a way to love the world,” Tears filled your eyes as you looked his sincere ones. His genuine words made you choke on sobs as you hugged him tightly.

“I love you, YN Addams, I have loved ever since you befriended me. I love you for your crazy ambition, your murderous plans when someone pisses you off-” “You can’t lie and say that making someone choke on their own blood isn’t a cool way to kill them,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck.

“It’s my turn to talk, Addams,” “Is that so?” You giggled. “I love you, little psycho,” You laughed again as he kissed your hair. “You stole that from one of my books,” “I’m not wrong, though,” He mumbled.

You spent the rest of the day in your dorm, unaware of what was coming, but you couldn’t care less. You spent your life thinking you were second place. Now, you were finally, someone’s number one.

A/N: This made me cry. But it was also happy tears. I love the reader so much. Also, to the anon that made the Draco request, I’m working on it. But as I always say, procrastination is key :D (this is also a cry of desperation for more requests)

#Wednesday character’s x reader #Xavier x Reader #Xavier Thorpe x reader #Xavier Thorpe #Xavier Thorpe x you #Wednesday Addams #the addams family #Fester Addams #Uncle Fester #Reader

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concreteangel92 · 2 months

Text

Thou Shalt Not Kill- Chapter 7

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

Warnings: talks of murder/graphic killings, use of religion, serial killer, blood, gore, bad language

Chapter Index Here

I hope you enjoy this chapter and can see all the hidden lines, clues etc I’d placed throughout the story 🫢 this really is only the beginning though, think of it as the end of act 1 if you will 😏 and as always I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!!

Tags: let me know if you wish to be added!@Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @calleyx13 @millie-aubs @english-fucker @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsword @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran

MASTERLIST

“Morning angel”

Your body froze and you felt your spine go cold at his words. There was only one other person who has called you that.

“Angel? No he can’t be serious….it must have been a mistake surely?”

Feeling Noah move more behind you, his arm tightened around your waist, no doubt feeling your tense body.

“Everything ok?”

You turned to look at him with a small smile, trying hard to relax your muscles down.

“Yeah, I’m good, are you ok?”

Noah stared into your eyes and gave you a cheeky smirk back.

“Well this is definitely one of the better ways I’ve woken up recently”

You were then suddenly very aware that you were both still naked under the blanket so you sat yourself up holding it to your chest.

“There’s no way it’s Noah, it can’t be”

“Yeah, it’s ahh…different to normal. Although seeing as it’s now gone 7, I better start getting ready”

Noah cocked his head to the side with his brows knitted together with a frown on his lips as he continued to stare at you.

“You sure you’re ok?”

You put a big smile on your face and leant in to kiss him which he instantly returned.

“Yeah, just nervous to give my statement….and have my ass handed to me over going in alone yesterday, it was pretty stupid. I’m going to jump in the shower so…I’ll see you at work?”

Noah gave you a small smile and nodded his head.

“Of course, I’ve got to go back to mine before work anyways”

You stood up, still holding the blanket to your body and averted your eyes as Noah simply stood up completely naked with a smirk on his face.

“Don’t get all shy now babe, last night was just a taster of what’s to come”

Despite the uneasy feeling in your stomach, you felt your cheeks go warm at his statement. You waited while Noah got himself dressed and picked up his things before he turned back to you and pressed another kiss onto your lips.

“I’ll be seeing you later”

••••••

After getting yourself ready, you made the drive to work, your mind in overdrive the whole way.

“He’s never called me angel before, why today? He can’t be the killer….there’s no way!”

“You know, I’m really impressed that you figured this out, that they were all connected, I doubt anyone would have seen that”

“Are you religious at all detective?”

“I understand that. My family were religious but I never took to it, as you said, I believe in what I can see, hear, smell….touch. Somethings I don’t think god would approve of”

Parked up at the station, you took a moment to breathe in your car away from everyone, the tension from this morning still very much present in your shoulders.

“He was raised with a religious background but doesn’t believe it as an adult…why?”

“Similar in a way, I was in a car accident with my dad when I was eleven, I only had minor injuries but my dad….he passed away on the scene. The driver that hit us was never caught. I wanted to come into the force to make sure justice was done correctly, for my dad”

“His father…that’s when he stopped believing”

You took one more deep breath before you grab your bag and got out of the car to head into the station.

You made your way quickly down the hall, not in the mood to talk to anyone when you heard sergeant Matthews calling out your name.

“Detective Y/L/N. My office please”

Stopping in your tracks, you braced yourself and turned to go into his office.

You stood in front of his desk with your fingers fiddling with each other subtly, waiting for the absolute bollocking you knew was coming.

“Look sir, I know yesterday was bad…”

“Save it Detective”

He let out a frustrated sigh.

“You have been a crucial member of this team for a long time, you certainly know better than to charge into a potentially hostile environment with no back up! What the hell were you thinking?!”

You looked at the desk in front of you before slowly bringing your eyes up to his disappointed gaze.

“I don’t know….I guess I just wasn’t thinking, I just…”

“You’re damn right you weren’t thinking! You could have got yourself killed or others if they had to do a rescue mission to save your ass!”

Sergeant Matthews took another deep breath, clearly thinking of his next words.

“I know this case has taken its toll on you detective, the brutality of it alone has been nothing like we have ever seen. It’s clear to everyone in this office that it’s affected you mentally…but I cannot ignore such a blatant disregard to follow simple orders, not when it endangers the live’s of others….I’m taking you off the case, your gun has already been retrieved from the crime scene and I’d like you to hand over your badge”

Your head snapped up.

“You can’t do that!”

His gaze was firm.

“I just did”

“But sir you don’t understand!”

Sergeant Matthews stood up tall while resting his hands on his desk.

“Enough! My decision is final, you are off the case for good, I don’t want you to have anything to do with it, is that clear?!”

“But I think I….”

“IS THAT CLEAR?”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you nodded in defeat, a feeling of complete sorrow flooding your body.

“Yes sir”

You took your badge from your jacket pocket and put it on the desk in front of him.

“Take some time off detective, clear your head…properly. Then we shall discuss you coming back in the future”

You nodded in silence and walked out quietly, you glanced around the team to see that Noah was nowhere to be found.

•••••••

“Yes. There is no way a woman would be able to pull this off alone, she would need help and I just have a feeling this is done by one person, a man. An incredibly strong man I might add”

“Nothing yet I’m afraid, who ever this guy is, he certainly knows how to cover himself, but it’s early days…”

You had made it back to your apartment, still in shock that you’d been removed from the case, glancing at your laptop in your bag, you wondered if they had restricted your access yet.

“Worth a shot”

You sat down at the desk in your home office and opened up your login, to your surprise it worked! You knew it wouldn’t be long though so you decided to act fast and start copying the files onto a memory card, no way were you completely done with this case.

“I’m missing something I know I am….the victims are all so different but something must connect them surely?”

“What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”

“Sorry I got your address from your file…”

“File…”

It suddenly clicked in your mind to check the police records for all of the victims names, to see if they were on file.

You went through each name one by one in the police database, each time finding out that each of the victims in the case had all been arrested at some point in their lives.

•Nina Platt - rape allegations

•Oliver Wicks - petty theft

•The married couple - possession of drugs

•The twins - arrested for fighting when they were younger

•Geoff Birch - known con man

•And the two people having the affair had also been arrested in their past for petty crimes

“So that’s how he done it…he used his access to search for their fingerprints to find them and see their history”

“All I’m saying is that clearly detective Y/L/N isn’t up for the job, have you seen her recently? She looks like she’s not slept in weeks and isn’t making the right decisions. If I had her position, I’d be doing things so differently, maybe then we’d actually be getting somewhere in this case”

“Do you like my little gift for you angel?”

“How did you even know about him?”

“I have my ways.”

You felt sick to your stomach as it really started to dawn on you what was happening.

Each one of the victims had been found on the database…office Blake….was first hand, an impulsive decision on his part.

You felt your breathing increase as you started to piece it all together in your mind.

*ding*

The sound of an email coming through pulled you out of your thoughts, you went into your work email and saw it was one of your officers, they’d sent a link to another case file.

“I’ve been thinking that we need to widen our search, who’s to say that the killings started in LA? For all we know, this guy could have moved around, killed before but has never been caught…”

Your eyes scanned over the email, taking his the new information…

•Anthony Jackson

•Male

•53 year old

•Found dead in his own apartment slumped at the dinner table, his heart had been removed and was placed in front of the body.

•Resided in Richmond, Virginia US

“Detective Noah Davis. New to station within the last month but had an excellent recommendation from his old station in Richmond, Virginia…”

“Why this guy? Who was he to you?”

That sickness feeling was manifesting into a very physical thump in your throat, your body was getting warmer and you felt the need for a very strong drink.

“How else do you get the message across?”

“And what is the message?”

“To dethrone god”

Your head fell into your hands as the realisation hit, you shut your eyes and tried to control your breathing again, your partner on the case, the man you’d come to find a true comfort and a friend. He was the 10 commandments killer.

“What’s the matter detective? Found anything interesting?”

You jumped up at the sound of Noah’s voice to see him standing in the doorway, leaning up against it casually.

Your heart pounded inside your chest, you had to remain calm so you tried to keep your expression neutral.

“Noah…how did you get in here?”

You noticed his appearance was very casual, black long sleeved turtleneck top, black trousers and he had on a pair of black leather gloves.

“The door was unlocked. You really should be more careful, no idea who could be lurking about”

You forced a smile as he stared at you, not once faltering in his gaze.

“It’s been a mad day…I obviously wasn’t paying attention”

You subtly, slowly and instinctively went to reach for your gun on your hip, for your fingers to find nothing.

“Shit! My spare is in my bedroom”

Noah’s eyes had followed your movements, a small smirk starting to form on his lips as he uncrossed his arms and stood up fully.

“What’s the matter, you look nervous?”

You started to slowly step around your desk, trying desperately to think of away around him to get to your room.

“Nervous….why would I be nervous?”

Noah laughed.

“Oh come now detective, don’t let me down now. My little slip up this morning was very…unfortunate”

You stared back into his eyes, no doubt in your mind that he knew, you now knew.

“Although it wasn’t part of the plan yet, here we are…a very….tricky situation”

His words sounded completely menacing as he took another step closer.

“Stay away from me….I know who you are….and you’re not going to get away with this”

Noah laughed once more.

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to stop me?”

Noah suddenly lunged at you, you tried your hardest to dodge him and to get out of his grip but it was too late, Noah’s hand had brought a sweet, chemical smelling cloth to cover your mouth and nose and you knew it was over as you felt your body becoming weaker as you breathed it in.

“Shhhh I’ve got you angel”

You tried to stay awake, but your attempts to fight back slowly came to a stop as your body became limp and your vision went black.

Chapter 8

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #thou shalt not kill #concreteangel92

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glyhpsrfvckincol · 1 year

Note

Random owlhouse hc idea fo you

Reader barely gets called their actual name and is called a nickname to the point no one really know their name til someone asks if their name is actually the nickname and reader is like “ ha no”

My main thing is their nickname is a animal Mabye because their palismen is it

Nicknames || The Owl House

Synopsis - Various TOH characters asking if your nickname, which corresponds to your Palismen, is your real name.

Warnings - Many references.

Okay, side note.

My Palismen, he’s a frog with axolotl gills. 100% contemplating if I should add a shark fin. I don’t know what to colour him yet:(

Anyway-

A/n - If you want a part with the adults, let me know :D

Requests are opened; headcanons only

A list of nicknames corresponding to certain animals:

↳ Ferrets = Ferry (pronounced - fairy), kit

↳ Frogs = Froggy, Froppy, Mcfly, Kermit, Amphibia, Sprigs

↳ Birds = Chickie, Chica, Beaks, Fumikage, Ellie (I dunno know, your palismen might be an eagle), karasu (crow in japanese, according to google), Hedwig

↳ Duck = Ducky, Duckus, Qaucker, Waddles, Snickers

↳ Pig = Mabel, Waddles

↳ Cat = Garfield, Sphynx, Ghoul (corresponds to amity’s Palismen), kitkat, whiskers

↳ Deer = Antler, Specks (some deer have white dots on there fur, and it’s super pretty!), velvet (for when their antlers regrow), Bambi

↳ Spider = Webbs, Charlotte, Fang, Silky

Amity Blight

↳ You got your palismen when you were relatively young. Like 5 or sum-

↳ And your parents had given you a nickname based of your palismen. Cause the both of you are absolutely adorable.

↳ So, basically the only time they used your real name is used when you were in trouble. (Good luck, lol)

↳ Anyway, Amity has known you as N/n for years at this point. You introduced yourself to her as N/n, everyone has always called you N/n, and you even write N/n as your name on tests.

↳ So she had no reason to suspect your name was infact different from what she and everyone else knew it as.

↳ Until you had been called in as a suspect of being involved with the human girl by Belos, where he had written your birth name on the letter you’d been sent.

↳ Amity was shocked. And very confused.

↳ Amity when she read your name on the letter:

↳ So she questioned you.

↳ “N/n, has one of Belos coven scouts messed up who the letter was for?”

↳ You: ”???🤨 no?”

↳ ???

↳ “But, N/n, I’m almost certain your name isn’t Y/n, or did they just mix your name up?”

↳ And now we’ve found the problem.

↳ Amity doesn’t know your real name!!

↳ “Amity, I’ve just realised I’ve never told you my legal name is Y/n.”

↳ “But, you write N/n on where you sign your name, even school work.”

↳ “Oh, right, when my parents put me in Hexside, they were given an option on the paperwork that I would be able to have a preferred name, and they put N/n as the optional option.”

↳ “Oh.”

↳ Amity questions everything now. Mainly things to do with you and Luz.

Edric Blight

↳ He dumb, but it’s okay cause so am I. ✊😔

↳ He thought your Palismen was based off of your name so…

↳ Emira slapped him upside the head.

↳ He felt bad, cause he thought he was the only one who called you that.

↳ “I’m really sorry if you felt offended by me calling you P/n, I just thought they were based off of you.”

↳ :(

↳ Our poor boy 😭😭

↳ “Edric, it’s okay! I kind of told you it was my nickname, so I can’t blame you.”

↳ It’s best to tell him you prefer being called N/n, seeing as he will continue to feel like shit if you don’t.

↳ Now, he will either call you Y/n or N/n, just depends what comes to mind when he is either addressing you or talking to you.

↳ It confuses a lot of people, human and witches alike.

Emira Blight

↳ Asked you after a few days of being your friend.

↳ “So your Palismen, you have a nickname that matches it?”

↳ “Yeah.”

↳ “Cool.”

↳ Will tease you about it though, telling you it’s the cutest thing she’s EVER seen.<3

↳ Fastest to figure it out, everyone else took at least a few weeks.

Gus Porter

↳ Depending on the timeline, and wether you’re a witch, human or some other specie, also impacts how you got your nickname.

↳ Gus learns your name when you and him get put in detention.

↳ Principal Bump has caught you, Luz and Gus sneaking around Hexside, and throws you 3 + Matt into detention.

↳ Detention shrieks your names, before attempting to catch you and lock you in its pods.

↳ Gus is to terrified to question it about right then and there, but he does after Luz is accepted into Hexside.

↳ “Detention called you Y/N. How come?”

↳ “It’s my name??”

↳ *insert little dorky smirk*

↳ Gus just nods, also smiling.

↳ “Both your name and nickname are cool.”

↳ He gives you a fist bump, partly cause your names are awesome, mostly cause surviving detention is not only difficult but equally terrifying and it’s respectable you got out with him and Luz.

↳ Rip Matt.

Hooty

↳ He gives you a nickname within a nickname.

↳ And then forgets your nickname.

↳ But it’s okay cause we love him all the same!

↳ Hooty is always shocked when Luz or Eda call you by your nickname, cause that’s not your name!

↳ Was even more shocked when he learned your name was actually Y/n.

↳ “But I call you H/n (Hooty’s Nickname), and everyone else calls you N/n! How are neither your real name!?”

↳ Ensues him beating the coven scouts harder the next time they try to arrest Eda.

↳ Hooty forgets your name again btw.

↳ Just let him think H/n is your name to avoid maximum chaos.

Hunter Noceda

↳ He meets you during the hunting Palismen episode. You and Luz had been sitting in the little house the bat queen had for the babies so she could have a Palismen.

↳ You had gotten your Palismen the day before along with the rest of your class and Luz gave you several nicknames, trying to figure out which ones would suit you and your baby best.

↳ It took her 20 minutes I shall add.

↳ Anyway- when Hunter came to take the Palismen back to Belos, he heard Luz use your nickname, and just assumed it was your real name.

↳ This dork however, didn’t bother using your ‘name’ and instead called you ‘wild witch’. Any witch associated with the human is known as a wild witch.

↳ Basically up until you’re all in the human realm, Hunter only knows you as N/n, and doesn’t really question you about whatsoever.

↳ Then Luz introduces all of you to Vee and Camila, where she uses your real name.

↳ “And this is Y/n, but we all call them N/n cause it matches their Palismen.”

↳ Hunter just stands there, processing the information.

↳This boy is so clueless, that he asks you about, wanting you to confirm it.

↳ “N/n isn’t your real name like Luz said, right?”

↳ “Yeah, it’s actually Y/n, Luz is the one who gave me the nickname.”

↳ “Oh.”

↳ And then he continues on with his day.

↳ Will use either your nickname or real name, it’s just whatever comes to mind when he talks to you.

King

↳ Met you through Luz, as one of her first friends:D

↳ He just called you a puny mortal. At first at least.

↳ He slowly shifted into calling you N/n, as he got closer to you.

↳ King knew that your name was odd, but he didn’t question it. Mainly cause last time he questioned something, Tinella Nosa appeared.

↳ And with Eda giving you nicknames, as well as Luz, it just confuses him a tad bit more.

↳ King wants to ask you, just to stop being confused.

↳ But he’s shy, and ask Luz for help.

↳ “Conejito, what was the inspiration behind N/n?”

↳ king is just sitting on her shoulder.

↳ “P/n. When I first got them, my dad just started calling me N/n. I guess everyone caught on cause no one calls me Y/n anymore.”

↳ King: 😲

↳ King just stares into your soul. He didn’t actually think N/n wasn’t you’re real name, just thought it was an odd name.

↳ For a little after this, he’ll switch between your names, sounding very unsure whenever he says it, u til it just becomes natural again.

Luz Noceda

↳ Eda definitely gave you the nickname.

↳ Eda’s probs given you near to a few 100 by now.

↳ So Luz knew you as N/n.

↳ Because that’s how Eda introduced you to Luz.

↳ Luz found out what your real name was when Gus used it to greet you back in “I Was a Teenage Abomination.”

↳ “Wait, is N/n just another one of Eda’s nicknames?!? 😱

↳ You: 😊

↳ You just smile innocently at her, like Dustin Henderson when he was 12-

↳ Luz just questions life. Forever. Will give you her own nickname.

Matt Tholomule

↳ He got so annoyed when he found out. Like how dare you >:(

↳ Only he was supposed to lie about his name.

↳ “Neither of us lied though? You have everyone call you by your full name and I just had a nickname related to my Palismen.”

↳ But he don’t listen to reason. He a petty bitch-

↳ Matt found out via Steve.

↳ Let’s set the scene.

↳ You and Matt, hanging out, and it just so happens to be Steve’s off day.

↳ He walks past Matt’s room as the two of you are arguing over what a humans favourite food is.

↳ He thinks it’s normal for humans to eat actual eggs. As in the shells.

↳ You’re probably friends with Luz, which means it’s more than likely come up in conversation when you’ve offered her food.

↳ “Ohhhh, you’re Shiba’s nibling, Y/n, right?”

↳ “Huh? That’s not her name Dumbass! Now get out!”

↳ “I’m not in your room though, I’m standing outside it.” 😌😌

↳ Which lead to a conversation about you lying to him.

↳ As if HE didn’t lie either.

↳ “Matt, shut up, and stop telling people your first name is Mattholomule, you sound dumb.”

↳ “Hypocrite.”

The Collector

↳ He never asked your name. Just called you play date, or best friend.

↳ Doesn’t even fathom the idea of you having your own name besides the one he gave you.

↳ Until King accidentally used your birth name.

↳ King knew you from adventures he had with Luz, seeing as you were his friend too.

↳ You just got unlucky, and got very stuck in the demon realm.

↳ Yes, you’re forced to call her ‘mom Odalia’-

↳ And when Collector found out, he was so confused.

↳ Like ??? What do you mean the name I gave you isn’t your real name?? You’re so mean! :(

↳ How dare you! >:(

Vee Noceda

↳ She figured it out on her own. (Cause she smart🤓)

↳ When she first met you, she also met your Palismen.

↳ “You and your Palismen match really well!”

↳ Yes, that is how she starts the conversation, give out baby a break >:(

↳ Vee is smiling at you, rubbing her hands and is swinging back and forth on her feet.

↳ “Uh, yeah! P/n really cool! They can do this thing! It’s-“

↳ And your dorkly explain every cool thing your Palismen can do!

↳ “That’s epic! It’s also really cool you’re nickname matches them!”

↳ God bless you a-dork-able nerds!

Willow Park

↳ Willow suspected NOTHIN’.

↳ Just thought it was a coincidence or that your Palismen was passed down to you! This depends on the timeline.

↳ For a very long time, she knew you as N/n.

↳ But when you, her, Gus and Luz get called to principal Bumps office, that changed quickly.

↳ “Y/N, I taught your parents, I know they wouldn’t approve of this behaviour.”

↳ You may or may not have set fire to one of the school rooms…

↳ Y/n?? Huh?

↳ Since the 4 of you were being lectured, Willow made sure to ask you later.

↳ “Uh N/n, do you have another name? Cause I’m principal Bumps office he called you… something else.”

↳ She forget what Principal Bump addressed you as, but that was fine!

↳ “Oh! Yeah, my legal name is Y/n. Boscha started calling me N/n in a teasing way but others thought it was meant to be affectionately and also started calling me that. It’s a cute nickname so I don’t mind.”

↳ “Oh… are you comfortable with me calling you N/n?”

↳ My sweet baby!

↳

#yes the frog nicknames are references to Mha and back to the future #lol #there’s more references lol #the owl house #toh #amity blight x reader #edric blight x reader #emira blight x reader #gus porter x reader #hooty clawthorne x reader #hunter noceda x reader #king clawthrone x reader #luz noceda x reader #matt tholomule x reader #the collector x reader #vee noceda x reader #willow park x reader #toh hunter x reader

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