#uh. rest in peace. pieces. maybe

[ignatiusteto]

s. so. malus thorm huh. girl. girl dinner.......... 😥

[satoruxx]

SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

[silkscream]

tender is the flesh

ੈ✩ synopsis: in which you're the only thing that can make the strongest sorcerer of the jujutsu world weak.

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni), angst, yandere-adjacent gojo (he is so obsessed with you), religious imagery, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, body worship, lots of biting, dacryphilia, possessive gojo

ੈ✩ wc: 2.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: [giggles nervously] gojo really went feral mode in this one! honestly this had more angst in mind because i was feeling So Horrible and then when i started writing the smut... someone else took over. anyways gojo is so obsessed with you that it might be a little unhealthy. like wants to live in your skin unhealthy. i think i actually wrote that word for word in the fic that's how down bad he is. runs away

gojo satoru won’t admit it to anyone, but he’s started to consider you an extension of himself. the missing piece, the phantom limb, however the cliche goes. even when he had ended things for the better, the ache would never dissipate until he found you again.

out of his own selfishness, he did.

once gojo had made up his mind that he was in love with you, he thought peace would come along with it. it did, in some aspects — your presence often acted like a summer breeze that eased his nerves. the warmth of your smile shined brighter than the sun.

and then other times, being in love with you was a new kind of violence. it churns in satoru when he’s alone, knotting in his stomach like a caged beast.

he knows you aren’t delicate. he’s watched you in all your beauty, all your bloodshed surrounded by the slain bodies of cursed spirits. he has held your calloused hands in his just to feel the pulse on your wrist. it’s a habit for him now whenever he touches you.

he has softened himself so much for you that he’s terrified to know that you’ve seen him in battle. he often wishes he could hide that from your memory, maybe make it disappear completely — the sadism that sparks in his eyes when he’s busy with his hands against curses and curse users.

he can’t suppress that violence within him — the one raging at him to leave you, ruin you, kill you. (he’d much rather you kill him, instead.)

right now, the sound of your even breathing is all that fills satoru’s ears despite the dread in his chest. when you twitch the slightest bit in your sleep, he has his arms around you in an instant, chin rested on the top of your head.

“satoru?”

“mm? thought you were asleep, baby.”

you nuzzle your nose into his bare chest. he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his skin. he chuckles when he notices you’re trying to adjust to make your face level to his.

“have you been awake this whole time?”

“uh… yeah,” he sighs. he doesn’t have an excuse this time like he usually does, but he’d rather die than relay his late-night thoughts to you out loud.

“can’t sleep?”

“i should be asking you that,” he chuckles. he tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and moves to comb his fingers across your scalp just the way you like. the feeling of it makes you shiver.

“i was having one of those dreams,” you whisper. “the ones where i’m like, half awake. and you’re there, holding me.”

“yeah?”

“mhm. and then i tried to adjust so i could kiss you, and… and then you disappeared.”

“i’d never disappear on you.”

but you did. you don’t say it out loud, because you don’t blame him for trying to leave you the way he had months before.

he’d told you once that being with him was a death sentence in itself. it took a great amount of sacrifice and carnage for him to realize that you would never let that happen by your hand. he had discovered it in your bloody hands and the shallow breaths you’d taken after countless missions.

“i’m glad it wasn’t a nightmare.”

“what do you mean?” you coo, your big eyes blinking back at him. “not being able to kiss you sounds like a nightmare to me.”

he lets out a breathy laugh. he replies by giving you a peck on your hairline.

“satoru.”

“yes?”

“do you ever get nightmares?” you yawn.

it’s an innocent question. satoru is more likely to say no, because usually he has a dreamless sleep. he hasn’t gotten nightmares since suguru died, and even then, satoru has seen more gore and split limbs than a normal man should. he also recognizes that he isn’t a normal man.

“never. not when i get to sleep next to you.”

“right. six eyes isn’t afraid of anything.”

“that’s not true.”

“oh, yeah? what scares you, then?”

he holds your chin in between his fingers and his thumb.

“you, honestly.”

“me?” you giggle in genuine surprise.

“yes, you. i don’t think you have any idea of what power you hold over me.”

“says the strongest sorcerer,” you tease, rolling your eyes.

“i’m serious,” he mutters. “it’s terrifying, really. sometimes i want— i want you so selfishly. to own you. you’re so—”

“i’m what, satoru?” your voice is a wavering murmur now. he’s sure he’s scared you now.

“completely unprecedented. it’s fucking ridiculous.”

he would tell you he loves you, but that would make it real. real in the sense that those three words are an incantation that would most likely lead the both of you towards doom. despite already hurtling towards it, he prefers to delude himself by telling you in a million different ways that you make him weak.

he’s already accepted his spot in hell. on the other hand, you are too heavenly to accompany him, so he’ll keep you in this lifetime.

satoru rubs his hand on the soft skin of your neck and shoulder. in a certain lens, it’s innocent and loving. nurturing, even. but you know better.

gojo satoru sees you as his other half, as a necessity to the very fiber of his being, and he still wants to wreck you.

he dreams of it often. he usually has you tied up in red rope, something soft and pretty and comfortable. he likes the image of you docile, your skin so supple and malleable underneath his large hands.

you curl into satoru because you know that’s what he craves. you exhale into his collarbone and he thinks he might just lose his mind.

“you’re weird, six eyes.” there’s more that you want to say but you don’t know how to piece it all together in a way that makes sense. all the desire crawling out of your throat comes out in hushed breaths.

“i’m horrible.”

“no,” you grin. “just weird. but i like you that way.”

admittedly, you are on the brink of sleep. meanwhile, he is on the brink of imploding into himself if he doesn’t feel your touch. so, of course, he takes matters into his own hands.

you barely question it when satoru touches his full lips to yours. luckily for him, you don’t mind, either. he’s more than ecstatic to feel you melting into his body as you kiss him back, his tongue pillowy as it teases yours.

you’ve done this before with him plenty of times, but it would be a stretch to say that you’re particularly used to it. in every way, his mouth anywhere on your body makes you feel electric. in your sleepy haze, you accept it, because you’re convinced you’ve never felt anything better.

when his mouth leaves you, you can’t help but mewl pathetically.

“what is it, baby?” he rasps.

“don’t stop.”

“what do you want, hm?” he teases. “tell me.”

if you were more awake, you’d flush and retreat into yourself out of embarrassment. there’s a part of satoru that wishes to see that part of you right now.

in a sick, twisted way, it turns him on even more — the prospect of you being so unaware of how obsessed he is with you. of how he’d be more than content with simply living in your skin, knowing all the ways you move and all the ways you tick. he has you memorized, certainly, but he hasn’t gotten ahold of all of you. he’d forfeit his status and his work just for a bit just so he could learn all of you from the inside out.

satoru is so sure that his desire for you is too much. so much that it would disgust you the same way it disgusts himself. and it’s not that he finds the act of wanting you disgusting — it’s the mere caliber of his desire. it’s become otherworldly.

he’d rather coax out a confession from you, instead, just so he can feel better about himself.

“want more.” the sound of your voice is small. pathetic.

“want more what, huh? be more specific.”

“i— i want you to touch me. please?” you stammer. your eyes blink up to satoru’s for just a moment and he swears it’s the most adorable sight. the usual sharpness of his gaze softens.

he chuckles, reveling in the desperation of your voice.

“where? here?”

you hiss at the feeling of his long fingers cupping the damp mound of your underwear, reflexively bucking into his palm. he’s so tantalizing with how he moves the fabric to the side. your wetness gathers on his fingertips as he rubs your clit.

“y-yeah.”

“so pent up,” he groans. “all because you couldn’t kiss me in your dream, hm?”

“fuck.”

“my poor baby. ‘s so easy to make you feel good, isn’t it?”

you mewl his name, turning each syllable a staccato. your blink wildly at the feeling of his teeth gnawing at your collarbone as he keeps a steady rhythm on your clit. the movements are so gentle yet rapid. the coil inside of you is so close to breaking.

your eyes are squeezed in anticipation of your release. it’s probably good that you aren’t looking at his face, because the way satoru stares down at you is something indescribable. he looks at you like you created him. he’ll probably get sick from how prodigious his love is. his devotion will be the cause of his ruination.

“s-satoru! i’m— ”

“shhh,” he coos into your ear. “s’okay. you’re so good, look at you. so fucking pretty.”

you don’t even notice the tears pricking the corner of your eyes. when you look into satoru’s blue ones, you gasp at how blown out his pupils are, visible even in the dimness of your room.

he grins like a devil. he’s determined to have you overdose on him just so he can be the one to bring you back to life.

“fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans. “i’ll cum before i’m even inside you.”

satoru lifts up your (his) t-shirt so he can hook his teeth around your nipple. one hand grasps your waist hard enough to bruise while his other hand covers your mouth. he slips his fingers onto your tongue. when you suck obediently, licking up your taste, satoru makes a wounded sound, a whimper like a devoted dog.

you want to kiss him, lick into his mouth, but the hold he has on your hips is resolute, as if he’s sure that you’ll disappear. his demeanor is always wild during intimacy, often cocky, but this time it’s more primal than usual.

“so fucking cute when you fall apart for me,” he mumbles, his mouth moving upwards now to suckle on your collarbone. “just for me, yeah?”

“mhm,” you moan. his hands all over you makes your mind completely erratic. you barely register his words after chasing the high of your orgasm.

“say it. want you to say it.”

“’m yours, satoru,” you whine. “all of this — ah! — just for you.”

your legs are shaking so much from his fingers on your clit again. he has you overstimulated from his touch. the sounds that come out of your mouth have to be awakening something divine in him. the knife inside him twists inward.

“mine, mine, mine,” he mutters into your skin, slotting his hips with yours. he enters you without warning, a hard thrust that has your body bending to his will.

“no one wants you more than i do, you know that? if anyone even tries to test me, i’d kill them.”

“satoru—”

you can barely grasp language at this point. he laughs a little when he sees your eyes roll back and the sound of it is both melodic and a little mean.

“oh my god,” you whimper. tears start falling down your cheeks.

satoru might be a sadist — the sight makes his heart fucking swell. he wants to tear you apart and put you back together. he wants to worship you.

and god, the begging. the aching way your voice breaks as you say his name and the word please.

he’s carnal with his teeth at your throat. his hips stutter when he feels how tightly you suck him in, how he can feel your cunt contract when he hits a certain spot.

satoru thinks he’s been hungry for you all his life. if being the strongest sorcerer wasn’t his reason for being alive, he thinks that being able to see you sprawled out like this underneath him is reason enough.

satoru is many things. he’s arrogant, assured, depraved. he’s certainly annoying to anyone that knows him. but above all, to nobody else but you, he is fucking obsessive.

he loses himself in your pussy. with his cock pushed inside you to the hilt, he is yours and no one else’s. no one else can touch him like you do. no one else touches him.

“i’m so close,” you gasp.

“poor thing. is that what’s got you crying so much?” he taunts.

“y-yes! fuck—”

“you’re so pretty when you cry. i love it.”

you flush under his gaze, heat pooling in your stomach. when you attempt to cover your face with your arms and at least wipe away your tears, satoru holds down your wrists.

“don’t hide from me,” he groans. “wanna see my pretty girl when she cums.”

he can feel his dick twitching inside of you. you’re so fucking tight. the lewd sound of him drilling into you is obscene, but the look on your face is fucking divine.

he loves to claim you, to mark you up. he remembers how much you like it, too, especially when his long, pretty fingers are around your throat. he squeezes just the tiniest bit and you gasp in pleasure.

“more, more, more—”

“i know, baby, i know.”

satoru likes his name best when it comes from your mouth. especially when you’re crying, your voice shaking just as violently as your thighs.

he takes the opportunity to be even rougher, his other hand toying with your clit as he coaxes your release. you’re overwhelmed, flooded with a euphoria that stimulates the whole of your body.

“fuck, y’feel so fucking good,” he grunts. with his cock wrapped in the velvet of your cunt, satoru feels like he’s on top of the fucking world. above the heavens, too, probably.

“cum inside me,” you strain. “please.”

“yeah? you want it that bad?”

he presses into you further, lifting your legs so that your ankles dangle past his shoulders.

“yes— need it so bad, fuck!”

he curses with a growl rumbling in his chest. he soaks your insides with his warmth until it leaks out of you.

this is satoru’s form of worship. the stutter of his breaths, the slight tremble of his hands as they caress your jaw. the all-consuming kiss.

it rouses something terrifying inside you. in a way, it mirrors the beast in him. gods and monsters, the two of you.

the room is filled with the sound of both of your breaths evening out, heartbeats syncing together.

“jesus christ.” you clear your throat.

“you okay?”

“i’m perfect,” you reply in a haze. even after cumming, satoru wants to lick the sleepy grin off your mouth. or maybe make you cry again.

for now, he basks in your warmth, indulges in the way you bring him back to earth after making him ascend to heaven.

“yeah, you really are.”

[dont-touch-the-phlebotinum]

"Are you sure you don't want a hand?" Eddie says as he watches Wayne at the sink. "I'm pretty sure it's bad hosting etiquette to make your guests cook dinner and wash up after."

"Family don't count as guests." Wayne fends Eddie off with a surprisingly sharp elbow when he tries to step in. "You've got more'n enough on your plate as it is. So how 'bout you let me feel useful and help you out in peace?"

Grinning, Eddie holds his hands up in surrender. "Shit, if you insist, dude." He grabs a dish towel and starts drying, ignoring the dangerous look Wayne levels at him for it. "I gotta say, though, it's weird as shit you begging me not to wash the dishes."

"It's plenty weird you actually wanting to."

They stand there together in Eddie's cramped kitchen, a comforting echo of so many evenings back in their trailer, though this time instead of the radio it's the sound of soft cries that fill the room. Eddie glances back towards the open door of the apartment's tiny second bedroom, watches Steve rock their newborn son in his arms as he gently shushes him.

Wayne's watching with a crinkly-eyed smile as well when Eddie finally manages to tear his gaze away – though it's unlikely he has quite the same appreciation for the view as Eddie. "You want me to stick around," he says, "let you two get some rest?"

"Nah, you go on home. You need all the beauty sleep you can get."

"Laugh all you want, punk; this'll be you before you know it."

Eddie's taking a step to follow Wayne out towards the apartment door when his eyes land on the document sitting on the kitchen counter. "Hey, Wayne?" he says. "Would you sign this for me?"

"What is it?"

"Adoption papers."

Wayne pauses, his hand still outstretched to take the papers from Eddie, and he looks back up in surprise. "Don't tell me you boys are taking on another one already."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, no," says Eddie. He can still hear Steve in the nursery, a hint of desperation in his voice as he tries valiantly to lull Sam to sleep. He shoots Eddie a pained look when Eddie glances over to him.

He doesn't want to even think about having another kid until the sleepless nights and exhaustion have turned into nothing more than a hazy, rosy-coloured memory.

"No," Eddie says to Wayne. "These are, uh – these are for me."

Wayne takes the papers from Eddie's hand – just as well, since he's about five seconds from crumpling them beyond recognition with his anxious fidgeting – and gives them a long, close look. There's some complicated expression on his face when he meets Eddie's gaze again.

"You sure about this, son?" he says, voice barely more than a whisper.

Eddie nods.

"I mean, only if you want to, obviously," he adds quickly. "It's not a big deal or anything. I just thought–"

But before he can backtrack, play the whole thing off like some dumb joke and not something he's been thinking about more and more over the past few months, Wayne's pushing past him to head back into the kitchen. He snatches up a pen and signs his name right there next to Eddie's.

The pen falls onto the counter with a decisive clatter.

Eddie just stands gaping in the doorway. He's not sure he's actually taken a breath since he broached the subject, so there's a good chance he's gonna pass the fuck out any second now.

Shit, maybe he already has.

"Nice to make it official," says Wayne. His voice is unusually tight. He looks back at Eddie with a watery smile. "But I never needed no piece of paper to tell me what I already know."

Eddie nods. He has to bite his bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. His eyes are misting up too much to make out Wayne's expression, but he can hear him sniffing.

"You all right, Wayne?"

"Allergies playing up is all," he says brusquely.

"Yeah." Eddie scrubs at his cheeks with the back of his sleeve. "Mine too."

He's barrelling into Wayne then. Wayne's already braced for impact, open arms ready to pull Eddie in close and hold him tight. Eddie buries his face in Wayne's shirt, and the floodgates open.

They're still clinging to each other when Steve finally steps back into the main room. He looks between them, both red faced and snotty and sobbing, with a smile.

"So that's a yes, huh?" he says, once they eventually break apart.

[wintaerbaer]

things we don't say: part 5.5 (interlude) (kth) (m)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

chapter warnings: maya and jk are fighting again :( , and also SMUT in the form of: lots of kissing, light/brief breastplay, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), missionary, creampie, a throwback to part 2, they’re so vanilla but it suits them

a/n: a huge thank you to @btsborahaee for beta-ing on extremely short notice! you’re the best! and an extra thank you, too, to everyone who has shown this series love. it truly means the world <3

listening rec: pieces by andrew belle

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

The night is beginning to wind down, thick summer air turning cool and the noise from inside the venue softening with every passing moment. It’s peaceful—the kind of pleasant exhaustion that marks the end of a big day. Jungkook stretches out at the patio table, resting his hands behind his head. As much as he enjoys a party—loves the pounding of music and the press of bodies—he has to admit that this is pretty nice too, the ease that comes with good company and a more intimate setting.

It also helps that Maya and Mingyu have rejoined the group, settling his imagination, which had been running rampant while they were gone.

“Tae and Y/N haven’t come back this way, have they?” Jimin wonders, peering around as if he thinks that saying your names will cause you to appear.

“I haven’t seen them since dinner,” Maya says.

Joshua shifts in his seat, tilting his head out of curiosity. “What’s their deal anyway?”

It’s like a collective sigh passes through half the table. A heavy breath that’s half amusement, half exasperation. “You noticed?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

Wonwoo coughs out a laugh—a loud bark that draws all eyes to him.

He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“He’s in love with her,” Maya says, ever-direct. “Has been for as long as I’ve known them. Probably longer. But he’s too afraid to make a move.”

Mingyu sighs in understanding at her side. “Ahh, been there.”

“You have?”

He turns his head and regards her warily, like he didn’t quite mean to say that and he’s just remembered that he’s in the presence of a relative stranger. “Uh, yeah. With one of my friends in high school.”

“What happened?”

He hesitates, picking through his words carefully. “I spent freshman year of college gathering up the courage to tell her how I felt once we were both home for summer break.” A shrug flows down his back. “She rejected me.”

“Aw, Mingyu, I’m sorry,” Maya coos, and the enamored look on her face makes Jungkook nauseous.

“It’s fine. I moved on,” Mingyu says (A shame, Jungkook thinks). “But I can understand your friend’s predicament. Maybe it will work out for him though.”

A rush of boldness floods Jungkook’s veins, and he leans forward, looking deliberately at Maya. “It could definitely work out for him,” he insists, “because Y/N has been hurt in the past, and Tae understands that. He wants her to know that things could be different, but she just needs to let him in. That’s the problem.”

Maya’s eyes flash, clearly catching the double entendre of what he’s saying. “The problem,” she spits, “is that people have a pattern. And Tae’s pattern is that he’s far too scared to take a risk. Abandonment issues run deep, but some people don’t understand and respect that.”

“I und—“

“Tae has his reasons,” Jimin jumps in, defending his friend. “He just needs time.”

Maya snorts, and Jungkook can tell he’s hit a nerve as she continues her rant, the rest of the group quietly looking on in a mix of unease or confusion. “Time? Give me a break. He’s had almost twenty years worth of time.” She crosses her arms as she rolls her eyes to the heavens, scoffing a laugh of defeat. “Honestly? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people don’t change. People who sleep around will continue to sleep around.” She pierces Jungkook with a look he feels in the marrow of his bones. “And guys like Tae will always have a reason to be afraid.”

Her head shakes, and Jungkook thinks she might be holding back tears.

“At this rate, we’ll all be dead before he makes a move.”

Taehyung’s mouth is relentless.

From the moment you lean forward, his lips chase yours—desperately seeking—and barely even give you the time and space to breathe. Like he no longer sees use for oxygen.

If someone had asked you a week ago what you thought kissing Taehyung would be like, you would've said careful and calculated, just like he usually is during the day-to-day. But instead, you're getting all fire and a hunger you didn't know he was capable of—urgency in the rough pace of his mouth and the frantic ministrations of his hands digging into the nape of your neck, angling you towards him.

For what it's worth, you meet him beat for beat, nipping at his lower lip, sliding your tongue against his, and tangling your fingers into the thick mane of his hair. A groan emanates from someone's throat—you're not even sure whose—and suddenly, he's gripping you around the waist to drag you across his lap with a growl until you're straddling his hips, crowding him against the headboard as he clutches you to him tightly.

You press closer, closer, closer, crushing your lips together for a bruising kiss and savoring the feel of his arms banded across your back, and the only thing you can think is that you can’t believe you didn’t do this sooner. He’s heaven incarnate, the taste of him ambrosia and nectar, and you can’t get enough.

It’s not enough.

You finally pull away for air, and his lips, still seeking skin, trace a path across your jawline and down the column of your neck as your fingers find their way to the buttons on his shirt. You’re frenzied, fumbling as you undo them one-by-one and let out a gasp of relief as the fabric falls open and allows you access to the warm skin underneath. You greedily run your hands over his chest and stomach, desperate for more, more, more, and he responds in kind, slipping his own palms under the cotton of your pajamas as he continues to nibble at your neck and groaning when he finds you bra-less.

Warm palms cup your breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over perked nipples, and you move to push his shirt down his shoulders, immediately leaning in to bite and suck at the protrusion of his collarbone.

His head falls back against the headboard, and for the first time since you kissed him, he rasps out, “Y/N, my God.”

It sets your blood on fire, the guttural, fucked-out sound of his voice. But you miss the feel of his lips. “Don’t stop,” you murmur, stripping yourself of your own top and diving forward to kiss him again.

He moans once more, the vibrations dancing along your tongue, and the thought repeats that you should’ve been kissing this man every damn day. Should’ve been embracing him at every chance like your life depended on it.

From here on out, you think it just might.

You trail your hands down his torso, and he bucks his hips underneath you, drawing your attention to the hardness pressed against your pelvis.

“Tae,” you gasp, breaking away, and he takes the opportunity to arch his back and pull a nipple into his mouth. “Taehyung.”

But he’s not listening, purely focused on the mounds of your breasts, and so you take it upon yourself to torque your body, flipping the two of you until you’re on your back, and his weight is digging you into the mattress.

The change in position causes a temporary slow in movement, affording you new skin to explore as you roam the expanse of his back, Taehyung’s fingers reverently tracing the lines of your ribcage. It’s not long, however, before your motions ramp back up as you work to shimmy off your pants and clumsily free him of his own.

Finally bare to him, you slow down for real this time as his own touches become tentative, the warm air of the hotel room on his skin seeming to sober him up a fraction. He pauses with a hand on your hip, his other arm braced at the side of your head, not seeming to know what to do next.

Bold and eager—yet sure of your next move—you wrap your fingers around the smooth length of him, relishing the sharp intake of breath you feel at your ear.

“Need you,” you whisper. “Need you, Tae.”

He hesitates only a second longer before his fingers are dipping down between your legs, the two of you sighing in sync at the feeling. You line him up, raising your head to brush a gentle kiss to his mouth, trying to transmit confidence as you fold your legs around his waist.

A stoppage in time as he bumps his nose against yours. Flutters soft breath across your cheeks.

And then he pushes in.

Your lungs cease to function, every cell in your body focused on that single point of connection. You're whole. Full. Complete. Amazed at the ease with which you fit together—two puzzle pieces finding their match. And Taehyung is certainly not unaffected himself as he pulls back to look at you, emotion swimming in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours, his lips still ghosting your skin. And it could be a trick of the light, a haze brought on by the hormones currently coursing through your body, but his eyes look wet. “My angel.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, taking his time as you both adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You've never felt this comfortable with anyone before, never trusted someone so fully to see you at your most intimate and vulnerable. And he may have called you an angel, but with him above you like this—hovering, ethereal, and burning against you—you think it might actually be him who's heaven-sent. Your beautiful, beautiful man.

His hand charts a course up your body, guiding your arm upwards until it's resting by your head and he can lace your fingers together with a sigh. One more press of his mouth to yours, a gentle nip at your ear, and then he pulls his hips back—only to gradually ease back in centimeter by centimeter.

The process repeats, the pace slow but not lazy, deliberate intent behind every controlled thrust of his hips. It drives you crazy—the unhurried drag of him, the way he's allowing both of you to savor every nerve and inch of flesh until nothing is taken for granted. Your free hand maps his back, legs wrapping around him even more tightly, and he hitches your thigh to his waist so he can push deeper.

Stars circle through your vision, every sense overwhelmed by him: the press of his hips, the scattered kisses across your neck, the symphony of your mewls and his moans.

It's perfect—he's perfect—and before you even realize it, you're riding the edge of your high, entire body tensing in anticipation.

He notices, dropping his hand low again to rub at your clit and turning the stars you're seeing into constellations.

“Let go. I've got you, baby,” he murmurs. “I've got you.”

It's the low timbre of his voice that ultimately does it, and you fall apart, trembling so forcefully that he releases your hand to wrap his arms around your torso, locking the two of you together. He rides it out with you until he tips over the edge himself, spilling inside with a rumble in his chest like thunder.

One, two, three breaths in.

And it’s over.

Everything stills, the two of you a heaping pile of sweaty skin and heaving chests. And while your head is mostly empty, wiped clean by the experience you just shared with him—perhaps, now, the most important thing you've ever shared with him—a single fact of your new reality persists.

You want him. You need him.

You love him.

He pulls out with a groan and rolls off you, tugging you into his side. You know you should head to the bathroom, should clean up, but the emotional and physical exhaustion and the lure of his skin has you cuddling at his chest.

As your eyelids droop, the promise of sleep looming, he mumbles something, the words blending together in a tangle. You lift your head, heart jolting at the sight of his blissed out face.

“What?”

But he's already fallen asleep, tiny puffs of air slipping through his lips.

You think about nudging him back awake, think about asking him what he just said, where this leaves you, what you’re feeling yourself. But you decide against it, the expression on his face too peaceful to disturb.

It’s been seventeen years leading to this moment, right?

What’s one more day?

a/n: they finally got there :) but there's still a lot of story left! pls consider liking, reblogging, leaving a comment, or sending an ask in the meantime!

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 7

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You guys devise a plan to stop Ghostface once and for all, but some shocking news stops you in your tracks.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, a little angst, my attempt at humor

A/N: Never mind y’all I just got motivation out of no where last night and apparently I can still write! This one’s kinda short…but I hope u like <3

You don't get to planning the demise of a certain wimpy pea faced masked killer as fast as you'd like.

You'd expected Sam to call the rest of the group and discuss details immediately; but that hasn't happened yet.

It's really starting to annoy you, but you can't even move far enough to grab your phone without help; so you relent and figure you'll kill the fucker when you can actually stand.

The only bright side, it seems; is Tara. She hasn't left your side for even a minute during the whole debacle.

She's gotten more comfortable, you can tell. Even gotten so brave as to come sit on the armchair beside yours.

Your anger has simmered down into a calm sea of peace; and you're starting to feel a bit bad for the indifferent way you've been treating her.

It's impossible to say you don't still care for Tara, in fact; you care a lot more than you probably should. The feeling is so overwhelming you can sense it's tendrils wrapping around you; threatening to engulf you whole.

Stupid, stupid feelings.

You tilt your head and look at her now, wonder if she feels the same.

Almost like she can feel your gaze, she turns and cranes her neck at you.

"Do you need anything?" She asks, flipping over the page of the book she was currently reading.

You don't trust your voice to come out as anything but a strangled whimper, so you nod.

She sits up immediately, practically jumping off the piece of furniture.

"Oh thank god! This book is so boring." She huffs, eyes brightening up as she gets closer.

She walks up to you and folds your shirt up, enough to show your wound. She examines it slowly, lips pursed.

"You know...maybe we should take you to a hospital? It doesn't really look any better." She states, staring intently.

You suddenly feel small underneath her intense gaze; and you wiggle a bit.

You weren't exactly at your best, since you'd been practically glued to the couch for days; apart from the occasional shower and a brush of the teeth.

"Tara?" You rasp, making her look at you; worry in her eyes.

"Yeah? You okay?"

You shake your head no, motion for her to come over. She looks downright stressed.

"Why? What's wrong?" She asks, reaching out to touch your face but stopping short, hesitance clear in her expression.

You muster the strength to bring your arm up to grab her hand, lay it down on your chest; intertwined.

"I'm sorry for being such a dick lately." You say, breathe in heavily.

"It was uncool of me. And I was wondering if you...would maybe want to be my girlfriend again?" It comes out as a soft whisper, and you watch as Tara's face changes from worried to unreadable.

Oh god.

"I mean- uh it's just that I think we might be better off as like girlfriends and I didn't really mean what I said before, I was mad you know? But it’s totally fine if you don’t-" She cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, soft and tender.

You melt into it immediately. Her hands fly to cup your cheeks, and yours press against her neck; pulling her closer.

You guys stay like that for a bit until Tara pulls away, breathlessly.

"I'm sorry too. I was being a bitch, and I should've listened to you. I promise I'll be better this time." She says, chewing on her bottom lip.

You pull her down, taking her by surprise and making her stumble and land right on you.

You let out a groan at the contact and peer down at your wound.

She retracts immediately, mumbling a million sorry's.

"It's okay Tar, come on. Come here." You wave with your hands, let her rest her head on your chest.

She doesn't press herself into you in fears that it'll hurt you, and it's the most straining and uncomfortable position she's ever been in; but she doesn't pull away.

"This is like doing a plank." She says, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You shake your head and smirk. Tilt her face up to yours again and kiss her.

"Shut up."

And she does.

-

The sound of your phone ringing is what wakes both you and Tara up. She stirs, then immediately tightens up; like she has a flight or fight response to the sound of it.

Oh wait, she does. You realize dumbly.

"It's okay. Everything's fine, could you just grab me the phone sweetheart?" You murmur, rubbing the top of her head in small circles.

She wearily gets up on her knees and reaches for the phone from the couch. It's too far; and she doesn't want to leave your body for at least 3-5 more business days.

"Woah!" She squeaks, loosing her balance and falling with a loud smack onto the rug.

You can't control the giggle that stumbles from your lips; almost on reflex. You quickly realize your error and shut up.

It's too late; because Tara turns to you, quirking an eyebrow. Then she lets out a giggle too, smiling so wide you can see her dimples.

It's a small moment, but it means everything.

It almost feels like the past few days have never happened and Tara's still freshly your girlfriend. Floating in nothing but love-filled teasing bliss.

She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your phone ringing again.

"Jesus christ they won't stop calling." Tara says, slightly annoyed at the intrusion on your moment.

She hands it over to you without looking at the contact, and you scrunch your eyebrows at the unknown number.

"Hello?" You muse as you bring your phone to your ear, still staring at Tara with a playful smirk.

It falls immediately when you hear the distorted deep voice.

"Hello YN."

Your breath hitches, but you don't want to alarm Tara; so you smile at her reassuringly.

"Hey bro, what up?" You say, with all the nonchalance of talking to a close friend.

"Bro? What the hell are you talking abou-" Ghostface starts, but you cut him off immediately.

"Oh yeah yeah, I'm still in uni. I hope you're not getting into any trouble like you always do?" You continue; pursing your lips.

Maybe you'll just pretend for the rest of the conversation and not tell Tara.

"Oh Yn, you don't even know what kind of trouble I'm about to get you into." He says, tone teasing and taunting.

Your chest tightens up a bit. What does he have on you? He's bluffing, he has to be…right?

"That is so fun, but I kinda have to get back to my amazing girlfriend now; you don't mind if I hang up do you?" You smile, eyes flitting up and down Tara's small frame.

She's sitting, quite adorably, on the floor. Looking up at you with curious but shining eyes.

"Don't you dare hang up or I'm going to split you from groin to ster-" You pull the phone from your ear and press the red button.

"Well that was a little rude." She tuts, scooting closer.

You chuckle.

"Can I help it that my girlfriend is the best-est person in the world and I wanna spend every minute with her?" You ask, nudging her nose with yours.

"Best-est, huh?" She smirks, leaning in impossibly closer.

You're about to lean down and kiss Tara but it twists your wound the wrong way and you hiss.

She brings her hand up to your face and caresses the skin of your cheek.

"You okay?" She asks, brows furrowed.

You're not, and you think it might even be getting worse like she suspected; but you don't tell Tara. Instead you nod your head and give her a tight lipped smile.

She grins, and closes the distance between the two of you. She gets up off the floor and climbs on top of you so you don't have to strain your neck. She does all of this with your lips connected, and you silently marvel at her skill.

"I know you guys just got back together, but can you stop eating each other's faces right now?" Sam interrupts, quite rudely you might add.

Tara pulls away reluctantly and wipes at her mouth. She looks flushed.

"We weren't even doing anything."She mumbles underneath her breath.

"Let them be Sam, I don't think I can take another day of Tara whining about how she's not with YN anymore." Mindy says, waltzing into the room after Sam.

You cock an eyebrow at Tara, but she avoids your eye; blush creeping up her neck.

"Nice job, by the way T." Mindy adds, clicking her tongue and shooting a finger gun at the girl.

You notice the rest of the group behind them, Chad, Ethan, Anika, and some other strange man at the back.

He must see your lingering stare on him because he's moving forward and offering a hand to you.

"Danny." He rasps, mouth turned in a crooked smile.

Okay, kind of hot. You think.

"I'm Sam's..." He trails off, sending a questioning look at the older Carpenter sister.

"Danny's my boyfriend." Sam answers, and out the corner of your eye you see Danny smile a little wider.

That's cute.

"Nice to meet you Danny." You say, shaking his hand eagerly.

"So, we're all here because we need to devise a plan. To catch ghostface, once and for all." Sam says, walking to the front of the living room.

"And what exactly is your plan?" Tara asks, moving beside you and taking your hand in hers.

You notice Sam biting the inside of her cheek as she thinks.

"I'm not sure yet, that's why I all asked you here." She says.

There's a moment of silence as anyone thinks of something to say. You try to think back to your interactions with him.

"We could make a suspect list? I'm sure Mindy has a lot of theories on her mind." You suggest, glancing over at the twin.

"Yes! Thank you for bringing that up YN. Sam, move it's my time to shine." She walks up to Sam, gently nudging the Carpenter to sit on the couch.

"So we all know Ghostface has some sort of beef with all of us, but from the attacks we can assume he hates Tara and YN the most." She starts, hands on her hips.

"We know Ghostface isn't really that strong. Either that or YN is just one hell of a fighter." Mindy says, gesturing to you.

You smile shyly at the heads that turn toward you.

"Can I add something? Back on the balcony, where I got attacked; Ghostface seemed kind of...small." You say, pursing your lips in deep remembrance.

"Like, way shorter than the one that attacked me and Tara on that roof. So I think there might be two." You finish.

Mindy nods, like she was already expecting you to say this.

"It's always been two killers, except for Roman Bridger; kudos to him for ambition."

Chad raises his hand, waiting for Mindy's approval before he speaks. She nods toward him.

"Could we assume the first ghostface was a guy? Because we all saw him, and he looked pretty damn big."

You shake your head in agreement, trying to think back on the night up on the roof. It's sort of hard because all you can remember is Tara kissing you for the first time.

Even after what had happened, you still considered that to be one of the best nights of your life.

What a simp.

"Now! Let's move on to our suspects..." Mindy says faintly, but you're not really focused now. You'd rather daydream about the girl sitting beside you.

The group ends up picking your apartment as the spot for Ghostface's Demise. You'd actually been the one to suggest it yourself, it's relatively big; and didn't have one too many hiding places for him to surprise y'all in.

Tara moves to sit on your lap as you continue to plan. Papers are strewn everywhere, multiple empty coffee cups on the table. You've drawn out a map of the layout, and Sam's made it her personal mission to storyboard the whole attack.

Despite the reason for for your gathering, you can't help but smile a little at everyone huddled together. They look like a real family.

Quiet laughs are occasionally let out, teasing and poking fun about how Ghostface is gonna attack. You sort of enjoy it.

The doorbell rings and catches only yours and Tara's attention. The rest of them are still in heated discussion about whether Ghostface or Voldemort would win in a battle.

It's Voldemort, obviously.

"I'll go get it." Tara whispers, planting a firm peck to your lips and standing up. You nod, let her untangle herself from you.

You sit a bit longer until you start getting antsy. It's been five minutes since Tara went and you’re getting a tad worried.

Has she been kidnapped by Ghostface or something?

She steps into the room now, and you smile at her; breathe out in relief.

You see a tiny envelope in her hands. It's ripped; and she's reading the inside.

"Any mail for me honey?" You ask teasingly, pushing yourself up on the couch slightly.

You don't notice the serious expression on her face till she tilts it up, eyes dark.

She doesn't answer as she strides to you, shoving the paper in your hands; arms crossed. She looks hurt.

"Care to explain?"

You frown, look down at the piece of crumpled paper. It's a DNA test.

At the top of the page it says:

DNA REPORT TEST

(For Personal Knowledge Only)

There's two boxes that fill up the whole paper. You stare at it, mouth agape.

It says:

CHILD (YN)

Alleged Father (Stu Macher)

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hey Mat, Long time no see, or write, or anything really.. feel free to rip this letter to shreds if you feel like it, I wouldn’t blame you. I didn’t exactly plan on dipping like that and I’m sure you’re probably pissed, or were but if you somehow manage to get through this stupid thing, then thanks… I’m doing better, thankfully.. sorted my shit out, like you said, as much as I think I can anyway… I’ve been clean for a while now, bar a few mishaps but I guess I should know by now that fucking up is just a part of myself that I can’t really change. I always liked that about you guys though, how you never judged me for it, I’ve found some pretty neat people here too, for the most part. I kinda cut my parents off too, but I dunno if I feel bad about that or not yet, guess I’m still figuring it out. I might give em another chance but half of me expects nothing to change, so I dunno… I kinda miss the Bay n’ stuff sometimes too y’know? Maybe not the rain though.. but I think I got so used to leaving things behind I didn’t really think it’d be any different this time around, maybe I was wrong. I’m doing okay, I guess.. but there’s a piece of me that feels like maybe I left a part of myself behind too. That sounds a bit dramatic huh? I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this… I suppose I’ve kinda been letting myself think about the past recently, someone got into my head about using it to move ahead instead of running from it and like, the elephant in the room n’ all that? I’m grateful you talked some sense into me before I did something I might’ve regretted not that I would have I didn’t mean to put you in that position though and I’m sorry if you thought maybe it was your fault that I left, cos it wasn’t. So uh can’t believe I just wrote uh out but I just wanted to apologise for leaving the way I did, without saying anything, and I hope none of you hate me for it and I hope you’re doing okay, no, better than okay! I really hope you worked things out with the whole Pixie thing too, I still think that was amazing, what you did I think it’d be neat if you had a relationship with her. Sometimes I wonder if I helped at all hopefully she’s doing good, either way though cos whatever you decided was for the best, no doubt. This letter is a rambling mess, I know.. but hopefully it’s better than nothing you can burn it if you want Can you tell I flunked lang/lit? I skipped write a letter day too I guess, my bad hah.. never was any good with words, written or spoken, but I’m sure you remember that. Anyway, say hi to everyone for me if you want, but you don’t have to - especially Oscar & Courtney, they don’t know how much they helped me.. and lil Robin, but I bet he’s not so little anymore. I shouldn’t have waited so long but uh.. better late than never? Okay peace.. T x ps. I almost didn’t post this but someone practically dragged me to the post box and now I’m nervous at the thought of you reading it.. which I’ll bet you find pretty funny, which is why I told you I guess pps. I don’t expect you to write back so dw about it if you don’t

TEXT MSSG:

Pick you up at 12? x Can’t make it… Why not? I’m sick I already bought tickets! Do you want me to come over, nurse you back to health? ;) I’m good, take someone else x Fiiine, get some rest sweet cheeks xx

[strawbeerossi]

Friends Like You

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After your father relocated to Las Vegas, Nevada, you meet a new face at the school bus stop.

Content/Warnings: Some minor angst with Spencer’s past, bullying mention, some minor violence mentions, Spencer being a little awkward and sweet baby.

Word Count: 1.1K

Navigation || Masterlist || Request

New mini series?? Let me know what y’all think!

AN: This should go without saying that it’s an AU where Spencer goes to high school at the appropriate age and not as a preteen! I thought it would be absolutely adorable. I hope you guys like it!

Spencer Reid never saw a day of peace in his life since he was a child. His father was a piece of shit who abandoned him as a child for his own selfish reasons, leaving a child with the burden of caring for his schizophrenic mother.

While he absolutely loved his mother and would do absolutely anything for her, a child shouldn’t have to be tasked with being a parent. While his friends were outside playing, he was sitting with his mother in bed while listening to her read an assortment of novels and other literature. 

High school was no easier than his early childhood. On top of caring for Diana, he spent most of his time fighting for his life within those hallways. The popular crowd, his peers, even certain teachers contributed to the anguish. There was no winning for him. 

It was a Thursday morning when he was standing at the bus stop, his satchel draped around his slender frame. He had a backpack but after too many times of it being pulled off of him and being hidden or defaced, he chose something he could have around him at all times. Nobody could just pull it off of him without dragging him with it. 

He had to figure that out the hard way.

The autumn air added a chill to the air, the crunching of the dead leaves on the ground signaling someone approaching. Typically he kept his head down to ignore the likes of Marcus Frank, Tyler Simpson, and Luke Halpert; three football guys who had a problem with the quiet, more socially awkward male who liked to fade into the background. Instead of being shoved and greeted with various ugly remarks, there was silence. There was the presence of someone beside him, so he let curiosity get the best of him.

What he saw knocked the wind out of him, even more than a punch to the gut from one of the men he dreaded seeing. 

You had recently moved to Las Vegas, your father getting a new job opportunity. It was an extremely hard move, one that drained you. The loss of close friends, family, as well as losing everything that you absolutely adored doing back home was something difficult. 

Your new house didn’t seem so homely, your neighbors were mostly old people who seemed uptight and had too many issues with the knowledge of a family moving next door. It wasn’t a welcoming city in the slightest so far. School couldn’t be that bad though, right?

Right?

Arriving at the bus stop was about as typical as it was back home, except there was only one person there so far. He was quiet and avoided your gaze, so you already felt like this was a bad start. 

‘Maybe I seem unapproachable?’ You thought to yourself. Some people did say that you suffered from a chronic case of resting bitch face, so maybe that was it? You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a pair of eyes on you. As your gaze lifted, it wasn’t long until you were facing Spencer. “Hi.”

Your tone was soft, almost quiet enough where Spencer couldn’t hear you. His face was red as he offered a tight lipped smile. “Hi. I’m- I- uh-” He laughed awkwardly while he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Spencer.” He finally broke through his stammering. 

It was charming in a way. He seemed so sweet and shy. You suspected he had a hint of social awkwardness.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.” With a hand offered in his direction, he was slowly putting a hand up. “Did you know that our hands carry on average 3,200 different germs belonging to more than 150 species?  Your hands can have anywhere from 100,000 to a few million germs at any given time.” 

The sudden fact had your eyes widening as your gaze fell on the palm of your extended hand. “Are you serious? That’s how many germs lay in our hands? Good lord, no wonder why we are always spreading new diseases.”

The tone of your voice had Spencer letting out a soft giggle as he was reaching in his satchel to retrieve some hand sanitizer. “That’s why I always carry this.” He explained, pumping the disinfectant into his hands before offering some to you as well. 

“What other facts do you have?” You suddenly asked, rubbing the liquid into your hands as you were now staring up at the taller male. Spencer wasn’t used to this. Most people ignored him or they didn’t even look in his direction, much less ask him about the plethora of knowledge and statistics that plagued his brain. 

“Too many to name.” He admitted, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Ask me anything and I bet that I can tell you a statistic or a fact about it.” There was a rush of confidence, Spencer liking the idea of the possibility of having a new friend to listen to him.

“Hmm. Scotland.” You spoke while raising an eyebrow. “Oh! That’s too easy. Did you know that golf was actually invented in Scotland? Scotland is the country with the highest proportion of golf holes per capita in the world. The city of St Andrew’s has 12 golf courses.” He grinned proudly.

“Wow, are you some kind of genius or something?” You asked with a smile. “You could say that.”

This whole conversation was refreshing for Spencer. He’d never had anyone actively want to speak to him before. Most girls looked at him like he was an alien, the males would rather use him as a punching bag than speak to him like civilized people. 

He felt alone a good chunk of his life due to the fact he was.. Different from others. 

You were a rainbow shining boldly after a dreadful, miserable storm.

The school bus had rolled up not too long after though, the screeching breaks and the squeak of the opening doors were probably the most familiar thing you’d experienced. “After you.” Spencer spoke, gesturing to the open doors.

The vehicle was packed, other students scattered from other stops in the neighborhood taking up most of the seats, leaving just a mere few at the front being open. “You wanna sit with me?” You asked, the glasses wearing teenager beside you feeling the burn in his face, neck and ears from his blushing.

Despite his brain trying to give him rational ways to deny sitting with you, he couldn’t bring himself to say no. You were nice. You had a nice laugh and smile. You were safe.

Instead of verbally answering, he was taking the seat closest to the window with a soft smile, which prompted you to match his expression and fall down on the outer area of the seat. 

This was going to be the start of an interesting friendship.

[ichorai]

dinner & diatribes ; adrian chase. (m)

track eleven of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; adrian chase x gn!reader

synopsis ; the two of you only brought the worst out of each other, but you just couldn’t stay away.

words ; 1.8k

themes ; comedy, mild smut (?)

warnings / includes ; arguing, lots of swearing, they fuck against a desk but it's not too graphic and pretty glossed over, reader punches adrian and breaks his nose, chris is the embodiment of e_e

main masterlist.

“I had him!” you snarled, striding up to Adrian until the two of you were practically nose-to-nose. He had ripped his mask off earlier, seeing no point in keeping it on when everybody on the team was already very well aware of his not-so-secret secret identity. “He was the only shot we had at getting information and you just fucking—Argh! You ruined everything, you dumb fucking piece of motherfucking—!”

Raising his hands in a condescendingly placating manner, Adrian retorted, “Woah! Watch it, potty mouth!”

Frustration crawled through your skin and wove beneath your muscles, nestling within your bones. “God, I hate you. This was my mission. You had no right interfering—!”

“Well, excuse me, first of all, this was our mission. Second, I’m sorry for saving your ass!” he interrupted. “If it hadn’t been for me, you would be out there, bleeding out of multiple gunshot wounds, thinking to yourself, ‘Oh, I wish Vigilante was here to come rescue me! He’s so handsome and I wish I could have sex with him just one more time and tell him how sorry I am for being a dick and ignoring him and pretending like it had never fucking happened!’”

You clenched your jaw, eye twitching. Sure, the two of you had slept together once—it was the heat of the moment and the adrenaline after a bloody fight, really—sodden clothes were hastily torn away or pulled to the side, bleeding lips were roughly slanted against each other, and he had fucked you on top of Chris’ messy desk with wild abandon. So fucking what?

“I was more than capable of handling the situation on my own.”

“Oh, were you, really?” Adrian rolled his eyes. “Don’t kid yourself. Honestly, sometimes it feels like you wouldn’t even care if you died—!”

With a growl rumbling within your throat, you wound your arm back, clenched your hand into a tight fist, and struck Adrian squarely in the face. A bilious crack echoed throughout the dingy room. He reared backwards, clutching his most-likely broken nose, groaning loudly. 

You were well aware of the fact that the rest of the team was awkwardly watching the two of you hash it out. Tentative, Adebayo started saying, “Guys, I think we—”

“No!” you cut her off. “Fuck you, Adrian.”

With that, you stormed out of the room, ripping off the rest of your tactical gear along the way and cold fury wrapping its dark hands around your neck. 

“Fuck,” Adrian said, all stuffy from his bleeding nose. “That made me so hard.”

Chris smacked him on the back of his head, which made him squawk with pain.

“I don’t know, man,” said Chris, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on scribbling a dove of peace on another one of his weapons that Harcourt hadn’t bothered emblazing, despite his repeated insistence. “Maybe you should apologize to Y/N. They seemed really pissed.”

Blowing a raspberry, Adrian waved his most best friend’s advice away. “Pfft—no, if anything, they should be the one apologizing to me. Did you see how my nose was all bloody and crooked?”

Chris momentarily turned his attention away from the crude drawing of the dove of peace (which, unsurprisingly, looked like a ghost), and scowled at the spectacled, borderline psychotic man-child across from him. “Jeez, stop overreacting. Harcourt set your nose back right after, don’t be such a baby.”

“But it hurt!” Adrian whined. “You know that a person’s sense of smell is probably, like, the most important sense out of all the senses?”

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“Uh huh—scented candle businesses would go bankrupt if none of us could smell!”

Narrowing his eyes, Chris replied, “Yeah, but how the fuck would that make it the most important—ugh, you know what? Just go apologize to them. We have another mission tomorrow morning and I don’t want their panties in a twist because of you.”

Adrian chortled. “Heh, wouldn’t be the first time I twisted their pa—” At Chris’ sharp glare, he immediately cut himself short. “Fine! I’ll go, I’ll go. If I die, please play an episode of Friends at my funeral—specifically the episode where they hire Danny Devito as a stripper. I really liked that episode. I liked it a lot. You got that?”

“Yeah, Danny Devito, stripper, funeral, got it!” retorted Chris, clearly not listening anymore as he waved Adrian away.

Squaring his shoulders, Adrian marched away from his trusted friend and headed to the room down the hall, pushing the door open and peeking his head through. He saw you buried behind a pile of paperwork on your desk, muttering incoherently beneath your breath. 

When you noticed him come in, he pursed his lips and waved awkwardly, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” he called out from the other side of the room, a bit too loudly. You winced at his volume, and he moved closer before parroting himself, this time much quieter. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” came your tentative, stiff reply. “What do you want?”

The man in front of your desk cleared his throat, rocking himself back onto his heels as he swung his arms awkwardly. “I, uh, just wanted to apologize.”

“Oh, yeah?” You crossed your arms, cocking one of your eyebrows expectantly. “Go on, then.”

“I’m…” Adrian doubled over groaning, stomping his feet like a petulant child, before righting himself and huffing in an overexaggerated manner. “Ugh, I hate this. Fuck—I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said those things to you. It was unprofessional.”

Humming, the beginnings of a smirk began to play with the corner of your lips. “Great, thanks. You can go now.”

Adrian stayed rooted to the spot, staring at you blankly. 

“What?” you asked him.

He scowled, gesturing to his slightly-crooked nose.

Rolling your eyes to the ceiling, you sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry for punching you. Happy?”

“Yeah, pfft, whatever—doesn’t even hurt,” he bluffed, leaning his weight onto your desk in an effort to appear nonchalant. 

You scoffed. “With how you were groaning, you made it sound like I nearly killed you.”

“You’ve got a strong punch, okay?” he heatedly rebutted, before haughtily sticking his sore chin up in the air. After another second of tense silence, he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his fucked-up nose. He coughed into his fist, before muttering, “Honestly, though… it was really fucking hot.”

The dull wooden edge of your desk dug into your lower back as Adrian leaned over you, mouth rough on yours, glasses knocked askew amidst his vigor. One of his hands were buried in your roots at the back of your head, anchoring you close to him, and the other pinned your thighs apart so he could slot between them. Your hands were tightly curled up in the gap between his sweltering skin and his suit’s dark armor, yanking him to bridge the gap between you. His nose brushed your cheekbone every time he surged forward to kiss you—and it sent a mild jolt of pain spidering down his spine, but he didn’t seem to mind it too much, rather preoccupied with other sensations.

Clothes were hastily pulled to the side, sweat beaded both of your foreheads, and strained gasps fell through your lips as he began to move against you.

Neither punching Adrian nor fucking him afterwards were on your agenda for today, but you certainly weren’t complaining. And judging by how loudly he was moaning into the brutal kiss, he wasn’t going to complain, either.

With one final roll of his hips into yours, he bucked forward with a strangled, choking noise as his climax washed over him just when you were pushed off the edge as well, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“God, you’re loud,” you panted, snaking your hands to his hair to gently pull him away from the crevice of your neck. 

He stared at you with full-blown pupils, delighting in the fact that you were quivering against him ever so slightly. “And you’re so fucking hot.”

“Alright, buddy, we’re done here,” you said, patting his chest, before pushing away and straightening out your wrinkled clothes. “This is the last time this is ever happening, by the way.”

Adrian scoffed, righting his glasses up his nose. “Uh huh, yeah right. Admit it, you just can’t resist me. I’m like the peanut butter to your jelly! The… the chocolate to your pizza!”

Nose wrinkling, you shook your head incredulously. “What? Who the fuck eats chocolate with pizza?”

“Uh, duh, I do,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “It’s amazing—you should really try it. I don’t know, maybe you could come over to my place one day and have some. Nothing beats the perfect ratio of greasy-crispy Hawaiian pizza and Nutella straight from the jar.”

Kiss-swollen lips parting, you leaned against your desk out of interest once again. Adrian was fidgeting with his hands awkwardly and began looking everywhere but you, like he hadn’t just fucked you silly literally a minute ago.

“Are you asking me out?”

“No!” he said. “Maybe.”

You regarded him with a strange look.

“Ugh, yes, fine, I’m asking you out. Well, technically in—I’m asking you into my house. Preferably into my bed—”

“Alright!” you interrupted, holding your hands out. “Fine. Only this one time. But just because you’ve come in me twice by now doesn’t mean you can go on falling in love with me, okay?”

Brightening, Adrian sidled closer to you, the green of his eyes glimmering beneath the flickering lights hanging over your desk. “Don’t worry, that won’t be a problem. If anything, you should watch out for falling in love with me. I’m quite the catch, you know?”

It was hard to suppress the growing grin forming over your lips. “You’ve got the Barbie Girl song as your ringtone.”

“Yeah, and? It’s a good song—super catchy. It’s practically a chick magnet,” he defended, beaming like an idiot. 

You rolled your eyes, patting his chest twice, before striding away from both him and your desk, off to go to the bathroom to clean up the sticky mess between your thighs. Adrian watched you go, before repeatedly punching the air with excitement and breaking out into a dance—not to music, but to the buzz of the office’s artificial lights, and the lethargic whir of the semi-broken air conditioner. 

 From outside, he could hear Chris greet you, and he momentarily paused in his little victory jig.

“Oh, hi, Y/N! Hah, your hair’s all messed up, why do you look like you just had your brains fucked—oh. Oh. God damn it, you guys better not have done it on my desk again!”

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Ten

Warnings: tw: child abuse, tw: physical abuse, tw: verbal abuse, angst, heart-to-heart, language.

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: There are TRIGGER WARNINGS in this part - please heed these, and if you think you’ll be affected by any of them, please do not read.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

Y/N and Dean danced delicately around the things they really should be discussing. They talked about their careers, the town gossip, and what they’d been up to for the past twelve years. She wiped down Dean’s kitchen, ignoring his protests, and now that the surfaces gleamed, Y/N felt the tension in the room rise. She couldn’t take much more of dodging the elephant in the room, it was driving her crazy, and she could feel her hackles rise the longer they stayed awkwardly quiet with each other.

It had never been like this between them before. Not even in the hospital had it been so electrically charged, and it terrified Y/N. She grabbed plates, cutlery, and pie and headed back to the dining table, where Dean quickly sliced and served them a piece of the sweet pastry treat. 

“So, uh, Bobby told me about your dad. I’m sorry, Y/N/N,” Dean spoke, breaking through the thickening tension. And there it was, the first elephant in the room. Y/N shrugged with indifference before she carefully responded.

“It is what it is. That man must’ve gone through five bottles of Jack a week, maybe more, for the past twenty years. It was bound to happen,” she finished and took a mouthful of pie.

“Have you seen him yet?” Dean asked, and she shook her head. “You gonna?” he prodded gently. Y/N shrugged again as she chewed the pie, responding after she swallowed.

“I know I should, I’ll probably regret it if I don’t, but there’s nothing that can be gained by me going there. According to Bobby, he doesn’t remember anything, so an apology or an explanation for what he did isn’t coming, so why bother? It’s not like I’ll get any closure from it,” Y/N shoved another piece of the pie in her mouth, and Dean studied her expression a little more before speaking again.

“So, it’s unlikely he remembers what he did to you?” Dean clarified, and she nodded. “But you won’t know for sure if you don’t see him. It might give you some peace or closure seeing him again even if he doesn’t remember-”

“I remember, Dean,” Y/N said a little louder than she intended. “I remember everything that happened when I was a kid, and anything that happens or is said or not said in that room will stay with me for the rest of my life, and he’ll get to remain blissfully ignorant of all of it. How’s that for closure?” she huffed.

“I just need a little more time to figure out what will be easier for me to live with. Will I be able to live with things the way they are now and happily never see him again? Can I face him knowing he’ll never apologise? Not even remember what he did?”

“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you,” Dean said as he took her hand.

“Can you tell Bobby that?” Y/N scoffed a sad laugh. “He won’t get off my case. ‘Speak to your father,’ ‘speak to Dean,’ like it’s not hard enough coming back here after being away for so long and knowing I hurt people. He just expects everything to be fine, and I’ll slip back into the folds, be accepted, and fit in like the past decade never happened. It’s daunting, and I don’t know if I made the right choice coming back here, and I’m scared…”

“Okay, alright, stop and breathe,” Dean said as he gripped her shoulders. “First off, it’s your decision what you do about your father, alright? You hit the nail on the head, Princess. You, and only you, know what’s best for you, so you need to tell Bobby to back off and leave you be,” he smiled softly as she laughed, glad he could ease her worries just a little.

“Second, never doubt that you don’t fit in here. You do. It’s your home. The family you have here will always be your family. Blood or not. That won’t ever change. Were people hurt that you left? Yes, absolutely. But were any of them as hurt as you? No. Not even close. They were hurt because they didn’t know the extent of what was happening and felt like they’d failed you in every way.”

“I never told anyone, Dean. Only you,” she frowned, a slight look of accusation crossing her features.

“And I never told anyone, I swear to you. But, Princess, it was no secret your father was an alcoholic. It didn’t go unnoticed that there was some level of neglect. That you had to look after the both of you much younger than any kid should have to,” Dean said as he placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin and pushed gently to force her to meet his gaze.

“The bruises, cuts, broken bones,” Dean continued, “were mostly hidden, but more than once, mom asked about a black eye or the fingerprint bruises on your arms. The black eyes I explained away as your clumsiness,” he smiled softly at her sad laugh. “The bruises as you were probably putting your dad to bed,” Dean swiped the tears from her cheek that had fallen.

“And then, Bobby and Mom got letters telling them everything, and the guilt and hurt they had because they didn’t help you-”

“When I started school,” Y/N interrupted, “my father sat me down and said that if I told anyone about the drinking and the hitting, he’d be taken away, and I’d never see him again. And because I didn’t have a mother, I’d be taken far away from Uncle Bobby and you guys and be put in a foster home. I’d never see anyone I loved ever again. It’s why I didn’t tell anyone. Except you. And why I was so insistent that you didn’t tell anyone. That’s on me, not them.”

“It’s not on you, Y/N. Not telling anyone was the decision of a frightened little girl stuck between protecting herself and protecting her father. She did what she thought was right and tried to protect both of them. All she had to do was hold on and keep pretending ‘til she was old enough to get the hell outta Dodge. Well, Lawrence, technically, but you get what I mean!” Dean smiled at the soft chuckle she gave him.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, or it’s too soon, tell me, and it’s dropped,” Dean said and licked his lips. “Mom wants to reach out to you. She misses you. I do, too,” he finished as he gently took her hands again.

“I’ll call her, and maybe we can arrange something when I come off night shift rotation next week,” Y/N said quietly. “I miss her too,” she smiled sadly. “But I miss you the most, and that scares me.”

Dean saw the water pool in her eyes and frowned. He’d thought she might be overly guarded tonight, having not seen each other in so long, and that it’d take longer for her to put her armour down. She did have shields up, he could see them, but his Y/N, his girl, was cautiously peeking over them, just waiting to bring them down completely.

“What scares you, Princess? Me?” he asked, following her lead and lowering his guard slightly.

“God, not you! Never you, Dean. I’m scared of this. Us. You invited me here, said we needed to talk, and yeah, we’re talking, but not really about what we need to talk about. There’s this…” Y/N trailed off, hands gesturing wildly, trying to find the right words. “Vibe… this tension that is slapping me in the face, and quite honestly, I can’t figure out if you wanna kiss me or yell at me. And that scares me because there was a time when I could read you, cut through all the bullshit and get straight to the point.

“And yeah,” she continued before he could respond. “That’s my fault. Because I left, and it’s been a long time, and we’ve probably grown apart. Changed beyond the other’s recognition,” she finished and ran her hands down her face in frustration. 

Dean wasn’t sure what she was trying to say and couldn’t predict where this would go. Yes, they had both changed, but he wasn’t sure he’d changed as much as she had. He was proud of who she’d become. Everything from how she carried herself to how she spoke with more confidence than he’d ever heard from her astounded him. He couldn’t wait to get to know her all over again. The spark of physical attraction was still there for him. She was as beautiful as she’d always been. More beautiful. He also couldn’t deny that he thought her confidence was quite the turn on.

“Alright,” Dean said. “Let’s get the ball rolling. I read your letter. Mom gave it to me the day you met Jess. You thanked me for not asking you to stay?” he questioned.

“Yes. You probably saved both our lives that night,” Y/N smiled sadly.

“Princess…” Dean whispered, and she shook her head, cutting him off.

“You might not realise this, but I know you. I know you better than you know yourself. My father would’ve gone too far again, and you’d have killed him. And because you’re a good man, you’d have turned yourself in,” she said as she touched his cheek, caressing his jaw with her thumb.

Dean’s lips tightened, and he nodded once, confirming that was precisely what he’d have done.

“So, tell me, Dean,” Y/N said. “What are we doing here? What do you really want?”

Next Chapter >>

Tag list: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27 @candy-coated-misery0731 @iprobablyshipit91 @twinkleinadiamondsky @mrsjenniferwinchester @spnwoman @snackles87 @perpetualabsurdity @hoboal87 @synmorite @nancymcl @trannydean @nic-kolas @jc-winchester @winchestergirl1720 @globetrotter28 @nelachu2423 @kayleighmeister @venicesem @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @suckitands33 @tristanrosspada-ackles @silentbutscreaming @lacilou @sandlee44 @kmc1989 @chriszgirl92 @ashbatz @k-slla @jamerlynn @kazsrm67 @waters-2567 @spnbaby-67

[sideeve]

why r you such a good writer wtf i love your work 😭😭 i was wondering if you wrote for graves? if so, i was wondering if you could please write smth about the reader being higher military (like a colonel/ssg or something) and is KIA but the actually faked it so they waltz in when graves is grieving?

→ ⋆ title ୨୧ ;; HEROES NEVER DIE

→ ⋆ synopsis ୨୧ ;; graves has yet to figure out your abrupt disappearance after a mission. → ⋆ notes ୨୧ ;; faked death, angst with a full ending, colonel!reader, forgive me . i don’t know shit about the military but my dad’s in it if it counts😭 , i wrote this at 5 am so bear with me , the reader’s race , ethnicity, hair , or looks are not specified

“you know i like that shit!” you exclaim, proud of your soldiers. the shadow company and phoenix force had orders to come together for a save-and-rescue mission in bangkok. a new terrorist organization had disturbed the peacefulness of the residents of their home country

during the multiple operations for the shadow company and phoenix force coming together, graves took a liking to you. it was hard for him to crack your code. you were a woman of morals. work was the most important thing to you.

and falling in love in a work area? not ideal. but, it was graves. he always got what he wanted.

“uh, ya know you got that from me, right?” phillip struts over to you, a hand on his hip. “that just means i hang out with you too much.” you smile, popping a hip out. “c’mere, colonel.” phillip pulls you by one of your loose hooks on your vest, kissing you.

before he could see it, a red dot centered right on your forehead. “mo—”

pang

blood splattered all over graves. he was…confused. what just happened? why can’t he move? why is he breathing so hard right now?

he scrambled to your body, staring at the large bullet hole in your forehead. whoever it was had it out for you.

“no, no, no!” he wiped the blood spilling from your lips. “you can’t. you can’t die.” this was the first time you would see him vulnerable. and the moment wouldn’t even last long.

you weakly lift your arm, caressing his cheek. “it’ll all make sense one day.”

those were the last words you spoke to him. they didn’t make sense. he’d understand? wha—where you supposed to die? was this planned before? where you in on it?

6 years had passed. you were assumed dead by many. you haven’t been seen by anyone. all anybody knew that you were KIA. graves refused to give details during debrief. he didn’t want to remember his lover dying in his arms.

he shook his head at the thought, turning back to his computer. general shepard had sent him some files and forms to look at. he wished to be at his house, laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling. like he’s been doing for years now. but duty calls.

“knock knock, commander.”

he sighed, not wanting to be bothered for the day. maybe even the rest of his career. “it’s open.” he groaned. “well, you haven’t changed a bit, have you?” you chuckle.

his head snapped towards you. he couldn’t believe it. did the government clone you? is this real right now?

he could care less. he missed you like hell and he finally has you in front of him. “you’re fucking alive!” he pushes his chair back, running around his desk to hug you. “jesus, you’re alive.” he sobs, pulling you closer. he puts his hand in your hair, squeezing it to make sure this is real and not a dream.

“phillip, i’m—” “i don’t care what happened,” he sniffles, “i’m just glad you’re alive.”

his tears soak the top part of your tee. but you didn’t mind. you knew how much graves was hurting inside. if it were up to you, you would’ve never faked your death.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, graves. i didn’t want to.” you explained. the last thing you wanted was for him to hate you. “i know, honey. i know.” his voice cracks. “don’t leave me again. swear you won’t.” he pulls a few pieces of your hair behind your ear.

“i promise.”

[miamochi-writes]

I Choose You Wolfwood x Reader

A/n: Not a request but something I've been meaning to write when I first watched Wolfwood get introduced. This is much different from what you’ve seen of my writing so far. Let me know what you think! I try to do gender neutral with the reader but for this piece I’m going to make the reader female. Also mild trigger warning for those who don’t have a great relationship with religion. There’s a scene where I get into it after the read more button. Read at your own discretion.

You had no idea the impact that Nicholas Wolfwood would have on your life when you met on that faithful day. You were just an ordinary medic, except you ran away from your home and the religion that you grew up. You couldn’t take it anymore with their teachings and being forced to help people you didn’t exactly felt comfortable with. You thought anywhere was better than living or working with a cultlike community. Eventually you bumped into Vash, Meryl, and Roberto and managed to join the rag tag of a team.

You were traveling with them through No Man’s Land like any other day until you bumped into a man holding what looked like a giant wrapped up cross. You didn’t notice as you were bummed by the whole Jeneora Rock incident. It wasn’t until you felt a huge bump and felt yourself jolt from the impact and shaking your thoughts away.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” you asked as you saw a man unconscious. Meryl accidentally ran into a guy and you were panicking. You were not going to let him die on your watch.

“Hey! Stay with me! Guys I can patch him up but I need a place to work on him!” you panicked as you were trying to keep the man alive. You rushed to get him treated, and ended up in a nearby plant to nurse him back to health. Eventually he regained consciousness as you looked him.

“Hey are you okay? How are you feeling?” you asked. The man looked at you in a daze.

“Am I in Heaven because I’m looking at the face of an angel,” he muttered. You practically blushed as you were checking him.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re still alive. I’m a medic that helped patch you up,” you explained trying to force your blush away. You then found out how he was “a priest”. You were very skeptical of him as you were still wary of religion, and kept your distance. It wasn’t until you saw a child within the area who asked to help bury their parents and say a eulogy for them you saw this man’s true colors.

“Uh...Heavenly Father who art in Heaven...” the priest began.

“Forgive us our sins o Lord, as we forgive those who sinned against us,” he continued as you furrowed your eyebrows. That was not how the Lord’s prayer went exactly, maybe it was a different iteration?

“Please welcome their souls and the souls of all those who have faithfully departed...Into your...in your...what is it? Welcome them into your humble abode...into your prayer gates,” he said.

You opened your eyes to peak at what the heck this man was saying as Vash and Meryl were all giving each other confused looks. You knew for sure, this guy was not a priest with what he was saying.

“Deliver unto them...Deliverance...not quite but I’m getting there,” the man tried to continue but he faltered as his “cross” was leaning towards the ground as he tried to catch it. You couldn’t take it anymore as you and Meryl smacked him on the head.

“SOME PRIEST YOU ARE! THAT’S NOT EVEN THE CORRECT WAY TO SAY THE LORD’S PRAYER!” you yelled at him.

“Oh? And just what makes you say that?” he asked growling at you while rubbing his head.

“For your information this is how you start it! In the name of the Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit! Our Father, who art in Heaven,” you began as you did the hand motions to start. You recited it just like how your parents taught you all those years. Hell, you even added your twist to the eulogy with praying that the people who passed find peace and rest in their next chapter.

“Now that’s how you do a prayer and eulogy, got it?!” you yelled at him with your hands on your hips and walked back with the group. The “priest” just stared at you with a slight growl and tched as he grabbed his “cross”.

Little did you know after that whole ordeal, one thing led to another. There was the whole worm incident and how the man’s “cross” was some other worldly high tech weapon that can obliterate a worm. He practically rescued you when you got lost, and freed everyone from being trapped in the worm. You were just speechless when you witnessed him using it as he chuckled at your shocked face.

“Cat got your tongue angel?” he commented with that shit eating grin.

“I have a name you know, it’s y/n,” you retorted.

“The name is Nicholas D. Wolfwood, don’t forget it angel,” he replied forever calling you that nickname that irked you.

You’ve been traveling with him for quite awhile and started to learn more about him. Despite his tough exterior he’s got a soft side. You learned he was an orphan and how he had a soft spot for kids. Seeing him trying to get kids to look at the brighter side or cheering them up warmed your heart. It was one of the things that made you want to spend more time with him despite how much you bickered with each other. Little did you know your crush for him only grew bigger the more you spent time with him.

Eventually you started growing fond of him, and practically knew him. But he didn’t know you or your background. You figured you wouldn’t bring it up unless he did. You took a pit stop at a town bar one day. Both of you sat next to each other grabbing a drink, just enjoying each other’s company while the others did their own thing.

“Hey, remember when we first met?” Wolfwood asked.

“Yeah, how can I forget? We practically ran you over and found out you were a shitty priest,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, but you know something’s been bugging me since we met. What’s your story? You practically know religion from the back of your hand perfectly. Doesn’t make sense why you’re with us when you’re not at a church,” he continued. You gripped your drink slightly as you looked down. You knew this was going to be brought up sooner or later. You took a deep breath and gathered your thoughts.

“I ran away from home and my religion. To say my family is overly religious is an understatement. I practically grew up with it and was forced to learn the customs early on. At first I thought what I was doing was normal until I made some friends and realized the way we practiced was excessive. I was always uncomfortable with the people I went to at church. I never felt welcomed, I felt judged constantly like everyone focused on my mistakes and never my accomplishments. It’s like I had to keep up appearances or I get lectures,” you started. You can feel your hand gripping your clothes. Remembering or even talking about religion always made you tense.

“Sorry, it’s a bit TMI, I know,” you apologized as you took a swig of your drink.

“No it’s not, I had no idea you went through that. Continue, I’m listening” he answered as his shades hid his eyes and showed your reflection.

“I was sick and tired of being told what was right and wrong in their eyes. It just felt like I wasn’t living my life how I wanted. I wanted to be free, and decided to run away. I haven’t looked back since then and I’m glad I bumped into this group. I haven’t felt so comfortable being myself in a long time. I felt welcomed, and I can choose who to help instead of being forced to. I’m actually helping people who need it you know? So when you first introduced yourself as a priest, I was a bit scared of you. But after learning more about you, I’m glad you’re not a priest telling me my soul is going to rot in hell,” you continued as you let out a small chuckle.

“Can’t forget how you hit me when you found out. You left a nasty bruise that day. But I like someone who can put up a fight,” Wolfwood commented as he pulled out a cigarette and started smoking. Thankfully, he blew his smoke away from you as he knew how much you didn’t like it. You blushed with what he said and nudged him.

“Knock it off!” you whined as he chuckled.

“But seriously though, I didn’t know you had to go through that. I can see why you would leave. Sorry for bringing that up,” he replied rubbing his neck.

“I mean you were going to find out sooner or later, but honestly I’m glad I’m far away from home now. Meeting everyone here has been great. But I guess you don’t want to hang with some ex-church member after finding out huh?” you brought up and looked away from him. You understood if he didn’t want to be near you.

“I don’t care about that crap. I think it’s brave of you to leave something like that. That takes guts,” he answered looking you dead on.

“Wait, you mean it?” you asked.

“Dead serious. I think it’s brave that the person who brought me back to life did all that and is with us,” he explained as he smoked again. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you felt yourself get hot as a blush crept to your cheeks. You didn’t know if he was actually serious like he said, but you figured you might as well enjoy it before he goes back to being his usual self again the next day.

"Thanks that means a lot Wolfwood. I’m glad we met. I can’t thank you for the amount of times you kept me safe,” you muttered that last part thinking he didn’t hear it. You saw Wolfwood rub your hair and turn away as you told him to quit it. He then raised his beer and looked you in the face looking a bit red.

“Toast for new beginnings,” he said waiting for you to do the same.

“To new beginnings and good company,” you added as you clinked his glass and drank the night away. 

~*~

The next morning, you went to go grab some medical supplies for the group before heading out to the next city. You wanted to go alone and not bother anyone since you wanted to take care of things as soon as possible. You were about to head back until you stopped in your tracks when your eyes locked on to someone you least expected.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that you y/n?”

You couldn’t believe that the priest from your old church was right there standing across from you.

“No, it can’t be. Why are you here?” you asked taking a step back.

“Oh come now, is that how you welcome me after we’ve been searching for you? After all, I practically knew you since you were born. We miss you and your parents as well. Why don’t you come back with us and leave this wretched town? You’re wasting your efforts on saving people who don’t deserve to be saved,” he offered.

You were practically frozen in your tracks, horrified that this was real and not some nightmare.

“That’s not true, I’ve helped so many people who deserve a second chance. You only let me help people you wanted to save and shunned people who really needed it. I had to watch people suffer when we turned them away when we easily could have helped them. What you did was not right or godly! You made people suffer!” you argued shaking from anger and fear.

“I see you’re still going through a rebellious phase. You should know that suffering brings us closer to God remember? As for helping people in need… You say that, yet how would those same people felt if they knew the real you?” he asked as you felt your stomach do knots.

“That’s right, no one would understand you but us my dear. A runaway who abandoned their parents, church, and community just so they can explore the world? I don’t think people would like that now would they? No matter, if you come back I’ll forgive you of all your sins and the trouble you’ve caused since you left. You wouldn’t want to upset your parents more do you? After all, they’ve been a laughing stock ever since you left us. Maybe they’ll forgive you if you’re obedient again. Even your friends, they’ve all been punished by your leave. It’s your fault you know. You brought this upon yourself” he continued as you felt the guilt crawling up your neck. You dropped your supplies and looked at the ground feeling trapped. He knew how to get in your head. You hate how he still had a hold of you mentally. You didn’t realize how your departure would affect other people. Were you causing more harm than good?

“That’s what I thought, I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s bring you home shall we?” the priest spoke as he walked closer to you. Your heart was racing as you were screaming to get your body to move. This is not what you wanted, but you were paralyzed with these overwhelming emotions and thoughts. Maybe this was for the best? Maybe you were being a burden? Did you even consider how others felt about you joining them?

SLAP!

You looked up to see Wolfwood was in front of you and how he slapped the priest’s face.

“Wolfwood...” you spoke.

“Take another step towards ‘em and I’ll be sending you a one way ticket to the afterlife, and I guarantee you’re not going to Heaven,” Wolfwood threatened.

“How dare you hit a messenger of God! You must be one of the people who’s been filling their head with nonsense. Let me guess, Y/b must have sold you the sob story about how horrible we were just so they can follow those selfish desires,” the priest hissed.

“Shut up! Some priest you are! You say you miss Y/n and that you’ll forgive ‘em, yet here you are making them feel like it’s their fault for everything? For the record, Y/n has saved more people than you can count compared to your stupid cult! I trust them more than someone who claims to be symbol of God,” Wolfwood spat back.

“And just who are you to insult me?” the priest asked.

“I’m the Punisher! I make a better priest than you fool! And for the record, you didn’t even ask Y/n to choose asshole! Y/n is a person who can make their own decisions! Let them decide who they want to be with,” Wolfwood offered.

“Fine then, y/n who do you choose? Your family and community that truly know you or this unholy man you barely met?” the priest asked. You looked at Wolfwood as he looked behind you with his hand reaching out to yours. The priest did the same as you bit your thumb. You then looked at Wolfwood again as he said something only you could hear. “Whatever you choose, I respect. Just know, I felt like I was the luckiest guy on No Man’s Land when you took care of me that day we meet. I meant everything I said last night. Anyone is lucky to have you with them, including me...y/n,” he spoke.

Your glossy eyes widened as you felt your mouth quiver. You were shaking, but hearing those words did something to you. How could you possibly forget about last night? The fact that he was serious and not influenced by the alcohol made you realize something. Wolfwood accepted you for who you were. He listened to you and gave you the time of day. He didn’t judge you when you opened up about your past. He liked you for you. You ran to Wolfwood and held on to him for dear life as you buried your head on his chest.

“I choose you! I choose you Wolfwood! I will always choose you!” you managed to let out as you started crying. You felt him hold you tight as he caressed your hair.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me angel,” he reassured and then looked at the priest.

“If you lay one finger on ‘em, or if I so much catch you trying to guilt trip Y/n again, I’ll skin you alive and play with your bones until you’re dead. You’re lucky I didn’t bring my weapon or I would shoot you on the spot. You got that?!” Wolfwood sneered as he held you close to his side.

The priest staggered as he took a step back and ran the other direction as he looked in fear. Hopefully that was the last you would ever see of him.

“Hey, you’re okay now. He’s gone,” Wolfwood said as you felt your legs give out from how mentally and emotionally exhausted you were.

“How did you know I was here?” you asked.

“You took too long and figured something happened. Glad I went looking for you,” he said as he picked up your things and put it in your bag. You tried to stop crying, but no luck. You then saw Wolfwood give you one of his lollipops.

“Take it, you need it after today. It’s your favorite flavor anyway,” he offered. You popped the sweet candy into your mouth. 

“Thank you Wolfwood,” you managed to speak as you tried to stop the tears from flowing.

“Can you stand?” He asked as you shook your head.

He then picked you up bridal style leaving you flustered. You figured he was strong enough to carry you since he carried that machine gun of his all the time. But him carrying you? That’s a first.

“Save it, let’s get you back with the others. Plus, I meant what I said back there earlier. I’m not letting anyone hurt the person I care about so long as you’re with me. Got it?” he said as he carried you back to the hotel you were staying at. he held a firm grip on you making sure you were secure in his arms.

You held on to him on the way back just listening to his heart beat. You were lucky to have him. He kept you safe and sound after everything that happened. You felt yourself getting sleepy, but you also kept true to your word. If you could choose all over again, you would always choose him.  

[dc418writes]

A Home for the Holidays✨

✨Pairing✨: fighter!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Since he could remember, the holidays were never merry or bright for Curtis. That is until this year

⚠️: 18+ NO MINORS!, mentions of past childhood/domestic abuse, bit of angst, cursing (only 2 words), ends in fluff tho because it’s the Holidays💕 lol

A/N🎙️: timeline wise this takes place years before the events of “Where’s the Love?” Hope everyone enjoys! I’m gonna try to put out more holiday themed pieces that I’ve had ideas for, but then again we’ll see since I don’t have much free time 😬

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual/collage made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of media used as they were all found via Pinterest and Tumblr*

Curtis was pleasantly surprised entering his bedroom to find his side of the bed occupied by you beautifully resting in his white tank. The one you usually slept in when you stayed the night

Presumably, you must’ve let yourself in whenever you were done with your family’s holiday festivities and he was still working the shipyard

Quietly - to not wake you -, he slides off his coat then work boots before discarding them in his closet. The rest of his clothes are shed in the adjoining bathroom before stepping into the lukewarm shower to wash the day’s work away

As soon as he gets his blanket over your body, you’re sleepily turning to face him with squinted eyes and then a tired smile. Curtis adoringly chuckles sweeping your wild curls from your face with his warm fingertips

“Thought I could wait for you.”

“S’alright. Go back to sleep,” he replies pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. You answer by placing a couple pecks under his bearded jaw before your even breaths signal you’ve fallen back asleep

Curtis’ rest isn’t as quick to come though, which isn’t a surprise. Working at all hours, throughout his life, it was fairly difficult sticking to a scheduled bedtime

However, having you here in his arms, he didn’t mind the restlessness tonight. Curtis took it as his limited moment of peace savoring your sweet scent as his fingers slowly glided along the span of your back. He stayed this way - occasionally leaving loving pecks to the top of your head - until the digital clock flashed midnight officially bringing Christmas Day

And with it, all the memories and trauma Curtis couldn’t seem to get away from

-

The monotonous, high pitched beep of the fire detector has Curtis jumping out of bed before he can even register what’s happening

His head a bit fuzzy and swimming from the fast movements so suddenly as he stops just outside the bedroom watching you stand on a chair trying to fan the smoke away from the detector

“You okay?”

“Yea,” you sigh letting him help you down - with arms wrapped around your legs - before he easily stretches up to remove the device from the wall permanently ending its annoying sound. “I was trying to make you toast in the oven, but then I got caught up prepping for dinner and burned it. I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Eyes now fully focused, he notices the eggs and strips of bacon waiting on a plate. A carton of orange juice on the counter beside it along with the cup he usually used

On the opposite counter behind you, a small roast along with potatoes, carrots, and cans of stewed tomatoes

“What’s all this?,” he softly asks. Clearly you stopped by the grocery store as well since he definitely didn’t have all these ingredients when he left yesterday

“Breakfast,” you smile nervously twisting the hem of his tank on your body around your finger. “My uh family usually makes a big one on Christmas Day and I wanted to do that with you…if you’re hungry that is.”

He’s silent for a few seconds with strong arms crossed on his equally built chest, which makes you even more nervous that maybe your surprise isn’t being well received

“They know you’re here?”

The gruff question catches you off guard causing a confused tilt to your head. “They know I’m not with them…” you slowly answer. “Why?”

“‘Cause I don’t need them knocking down my damn door trying to find you,” he retorts as if your presence is now a bother.

So much for that perfect Christmas morning you envisioned

“Sorry to intrude then.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You sure?,” you ask, with a quivering bottom lip, before brushing past him towards the bedroom. Curtis manages to grab your arm, but you pull free with the jerk of your shoulder.

As his tone rises calling you back, the voice leaving his mouth is no longer his but instead his father’s. With that same timbre of aggression and roughness used on him, his mother, and his younger brother.

In that moment he’s reverted to one of his earliest holiday memories. Him watching his two-year-old brother, Carter, in their shared bedroom while their parents argued in the adjoining living room. Well moreso his father.

A slight slur to his words - thanks to his trusty flask - he claimed the decorations were ridiculous and “a waste of the money they already didn’t have”.

His mother just brushed him off with a roll of her blue eyes so similar to Curtis’ and unfazed by the addition to her husband’s daily complaints. The older man didn’t take too kindly to such disrespect though.

Loud smacks turned into yelling and fussing then cries as his mother pleaded for him to stop.

“You mind your husband!,” he yelled - always needing to have the final word. Turning to walk away, his strong hand yanks down the string lights hanging on the wall along with the brightly lit tree making the plastic ornaments bounce and clatter on the floor. Meanwhile his mother sat crumbled on the shagged carpet with hands covering her probably already swollen face.

When his dark eyes locked with then four-year-old Curtis, rightfully filled with fear as he protectively held onto his baby brother, his father dared chuckle. Lightly shaking his head before walking out the front door going God knows where.

From then on, Christmas was cold inside just as much as the weather was outside. And it only seemed to get colder with each passing year.

Duffle bag on your shoulder, you finally exited the bedroom quickly wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks as you steadily walk towards the front door. All the while acting as if he wasn’t there when stepping past him. You’re nearly out the door with hand gripping the metal knob when the low rumble of his voice breaks the silence surrounding both of you.

“I don’t want you to go Dex.”

You hate how that nickname passing from his lips - and only his - instantly makes you soft. Your shoulders less tense and grip loosening until your arm drops to your side while you continue to look forward

“What happened between last night and this morning?”

A heavy, frustrated sigh leaves his lungs as he leans against the bar in front of the kitchen sink searching for his words

“You know I’m no good at this.”

“Try,” you respond turning to meet his sincere eyes containing a hint of sadness

That was always your response whenever your relationship came to a bump. Admittedly, usually caused by Curtis and his bad habit of pushing you away.

At times he hated when you said it, wondering why you didn’t just leave like the few who tried to be with him before. Instead, you challenged his resistance and wouldn’t back down unless necessary.

And deep down he appreciated it. You weren’t giving up on him, or your relationship, seeing something more in him than he could see in himself.

“Your parents don’t want you anywhere near me-,”

“And like I’ve said I don’t care what they want for me. This is my life to live and I wanna do that with you Curtis.”

“How can you truly say that? I mean look at you,” he begins, gesturing at everything you’ve done so far. “You’re waking up early trying to cook Christmas breakfast and dinner for me like some movie. Probably even have a gift for me somewhere when I can’t do this holiday shit. I never have.”

“I’m not solely with you because of your holiday cheer Curtis,” you reply stepping closer. “And what do you mean you can’t? Because you’re not rich? That doesn’t matter.”

“No, because..,” he pauses not wanting to explain any further, but with your concerned, brown eyes gazing into his the uncomfortable itch beneath his skin from such vulnerability begins to slowly disappear. He knew you loved him and bravely took all his baggage as if it were your own trying to help him through it.

You were proving that now, just as you’ve tried since you first got together.

“You’ve met my dad so you’ve seen how he can be. That was only a portion though. The first Christmas I can remember, he trashed all the decorations and tree before leaving my mom crying and bruised on the floor and me holding my little brother.”

“Holidays only got worse each year and after all this time part of me wonders…”

You toss your bag towards the wall before stepping in front of him to comfortingly place your hands on each bearded cheek. Just a small gesture showing he had your full attention. “Wonders what?,” you whisper.

“Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be for me,” he shrugs. “That the twisted part of me sharing his DNA only has so long until he’s showing his face.”

His confession has you close to tears as you immediately stretch up to place your lips on his. Your tender kiss warming him from the inside out while his arms wrap around your back pressing your body against his.

“For you to think about that, and be concerned, that shows you’ll be nothing like him Curtis. You think if I saw him in you I’d still be here?”

This makes a huff of a small chuckle leave his lips as he shakes his head and forehead falls to touch yours. Yes you were kind and the sweetest woman he’d ever met, but after watching you stand up to his father - not afraid in the slightest - he knew you’d go to hell and back for those you cared for.

It was also then he could feel himself fall even more for you.

“And no, that’s not how it’s ever supposed to be,” you add pecking his lips again. “I’m sorry he made you believe that.”

“Can’t pick our families can we?,” he simply replies in that nonchalant attitude he typically wore.

“Not our biological ones. But we have chosen families too.” This time it’s him capturing your lips with his and leaving little nips that make you giggle.

“I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t want you here. That’s not true.”

“I appreciate it, but I should’ve texted first. Might’ve saved us from all this,” you nervously laugh.

“Dex you never have to ask to come here, alright? I want this to be your place like it is mine.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, your eyes excitedly gleam and face brightens - reminiscent of a child opening a present - hearing those words. It tickles Curtis watching you immediately try to calm yourself and play it cool replying with a relaxed “okay” as you switch your focus to the pendant hanging just below the dip at the base of his neck that sat perfectly in your line of vision.

“Y-You mean it?,” you quietly ask carefully tracing the intricate lines with your fingernail. You sounded so delicate and fragile, making him squeeze you comfortably tighter while he kissed the top of your head.

“Of course. You’re all the family I have.”

Being there in his arms, you can’t help but contently sigh snuggling your face deeper in his chest. Your heart warm and full standing with the man you loved so dearly.

[an-aspiration]

Run

warnings: violence-weapons- angst

summary: the w people attack Alexandria, y /n and carl already fighting are forced to huddle together and get over it xoxo. 1683 words

Its a semi cloudy day, perfect for relaxing inside and doing nothing. It was also turning out great. You woke up, got dressed, remembered you have snacks downstairs, and started cleaning up. When you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth you hear your bedroom door open. Peaking out you see its carl, not surprised, since you guys go back and forth “sharing rooms”

"Oh good your up. Did you finish the spare shampoo I had under the sink?"

You covered your mouth trying to be polite and not laugh at his sternness "Uh yeah sorry I can ask Daryl to put that on the list. You'll get it by tomorrow."

He furrowed his brow "K."

"Whats your problem its just shampoo."

"God my problem is you. "

You were taken aback at how fast he snapped back at you. He didn’t usually act like an asshole but you knew he would eventually get out of his little mood swing. Internally you decided to help him get out of it faster by arguing.

You rolled your eyes "oh please elaborate! Because I'm sorry your having a bad morning but that has hardly anything to do with me."

"you're useless. Your ass doesn't do anything except hang around your little friends and eat shit. What good are you?"

Turning from the mirror to him you mustered up the meanest look you could. Then popped the tooth brush out of your mouth and rinsed preparing to go off on him. Who does he think he is calling you useless? He was just your 'bff' yesterday and now he's acting like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"First I am not useless. Do you even think before you speak because that doesn't make sense at all considering I am the one changing Judith's diapers, cleaning both your room, hers, and mine every week, and on top of that cooking your meals, so please come get me when your attitude is looking up. Cause I don't know who put you in this mood but its your job to get out of it."

You walked past him scoffing. Downstairs you grabbed your walkman, a bag of grapes, rollerskates and walked out the door.

You had been rolling around the neighborhood for a little while, enjoying the fresh air and exercise. Eventually, you came across a bench and decided to take a rest. As you sat down, you reached into your bag and pulled out a handful of juicy grapes. As you savored the sweet flavor, your mind wandered to thoughts of Deana and her parties. You realized that you could really use some fun right now, and hoped that Deana would throw another one soon. In the meantime, you decided to listen to some music on your Walkman. You scrolled through your playlist and selected "Rehab" by Lana Del Rey, letting the cute melody wash over you as you enjoyed a moment of peaceful solitude on the bench.

You sat there soaking in your thoughts mindlessly eating your grapes. You started noticing small things that you didn't notice before like how lifeless everything looked when it wasn't sunny. It made you think of Winter which was coming close. The thought of Christmas warmed your heart, but made you wonder how different it would be celebrating during the end of the world. Surely parents want their kids to have something like that. You definitely would even at your age.

Or maybe-

"HELP"

You quickly jerked out of your train of thought at the sound. Was someone hurt? Looking around you didn't see anything. But something told you to get somewhere safe. You stood up gathering your things shaking, when you started hearing more screams. Startled you just grabbed your roller skates and ran in the direction of your house. As you turned a corner you saw the mayhem. People cut into pieces and random people running around with machetes and other weapons. Now officially scared out of your mind you sprinted as fast as you could.

Morgan was in shackles, people being sliced, beaten. You caught a glimpse of someone with a 'W' on their forehead. The group Rick and morgan were murmuring about got inside the walls and are killing everyone. As you neared the house you heard someone laughing close behind you.

fuck.

"No no no no" You Turned your head to see who it was and you almost started crying. A big, probably three hundred pound, man was running behind you with a spear. You picked up the pace still a block away from the house.

You looked to your right hoping Rick or someone was gonna shoot him but instead you saw a handgun laying on the sidewalk. You bolted to it and immediately picked it up and blindly fired two shots in his direction.

One hit his arm holding the spear. You went to shoot again but *click*. You panicked then he charged at you then you fell back. Now your heart was beating faster than ever hoping you didn't just get yourself killed. He was on top of you and you stupidly threw a punch but it hit him. Blood trickled down his cheek and landed on you. He hissed at the pain, not from your power, but from the four cheap and prickly rings you had on. Before he turned back to hit back you pulled out your knife from your boot about to pierce his neck when a shot sounded. You winced then realized Carl had shot him.

You quickly wiggled from underneath him as you had tried earlier then stood up and wiped the blood off your jaw, still in shock.

"I had it."

"Barely." He said in a cocky manner, but with some sympathy in his voice. "Are you okay?''

"um.........Yeah i'm okay." You said

Now you were feeling faintish after only having grapes as a meal for the day and all the stress you had just been through. It seemed he had noticed this too because he grabbed your hand and started guiding you through the chaos back home.

A couple of hours passed, you were boiling noodles for a classic spaghetti in the kitchen. It felt strange casually cooking a meal after what happened. But there seemed to not be any right way to deal with the fact that you almost become road kill.

Carl was upstairs probably putting Judith to sleep and getting into his pajamas. Your feet began to tingle, a sign they were falling asleep so you decided to stroll over to the counter and sit there after turning the simmer down. You ran your soft hands through your hair then slowly rubbed your temples. You heard him come downstairs.

"Hey y/ n"

You looked up "Hey Carl, whats up?"

"Nothin, just uh put Judith down. Are you doing alright?"

"Yeah i'm as good as I can be at the moment. I just have a raging headache. Also- where did the others go?"

"Oh they were helping people clean up, now their at Deana's." He paused "But I just wanted to talk to you about this morning.. Im sorry for being um rude. I didn't mean what I said obviously I was just well.. I don't know. I'm also sorry because its my fault you were out there when the people attacked anyway. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes I forgive you" you said slightly giggling "I can't stay mad at you for long but thank you for also saving my life. Even if it was your fault I was out there you could have chose not to save me, your best friend, but you did."

He smiled at the way you punctuated best friend "yeah" He sat in the chair next to you staring at his hands as if he was thinking about saying something.

As you rose to attend to the food, he said, "Best friend huh?" to which you simply replied, "Yep haha". However, the conversation took an unexpected turn when he asked, "Have you ever thought of like... being more?"

You stood frozen for a second, before realizing he was probably watching you from behind.

You had considered this possibility before, but you didn't want to complicate things by bringing it up. The thought of him rejecting you made you feel uneasy, wondering if he would be scrutinizing your every move after. You tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered in the back of your mind every time you saw him, thought about it, hell even dreamt about him. You thought it was time to confront him about it, or at least bring it up in conversation. You didn't want to be paranoid, but you also didn't want to ignore your instincts.

"hmm well" you said teasing him a little "what do you mean?"

"I'm just being dumb or whatever"

"No, your not, tell me" You said turning around and smiling. This gave him hope that you would feel the same.

"It's just, I woke up in a bad mood cause I overheard you with your friends last night talking about me. You said I come on too strong and It's obvious who I like and-"

"Oh my god no carl" you interupted " I wasn't talking about you I was talking about Abraham and Sasha. I love them both but it's so funny watching their little friends to lovers trope"

He laughed "ohhh, my bad um" "Well sorry for that too. But what I'm trying to say is I like you. I thought you didn't like me back so I got mad but- It's okay if you don't like me back I just needed to tell you because I couldn't hold on to that secret anymore." he said nervously running his hand through his hair.

You smiled and looked at him. You felt like everything that you didn't expect to happen today was happening at the strangest times.

"That- well I like you too. I was too scared to tell you because I was afraid you didn't feel the same way"

"Really?"

You nodded.

He stood up and walked over to your spot grabbing the warm wooden spoon from your hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

pt2??

A/N! :

HEY!! first post on this acc lmaoo. I posted this on watt pad originally like a month ago along with two other imagines (if you wanna check them out: leinsburg666) I wont be posting them here bc personally i think they are booty and i wrote them two months ago I’m obviously a new person duhh. but anyways i’m gonna write some more like this and PLEASE leave requests like good lord i will probably reply to all of them since i’m not sure a lot of people will see this bc the carl/reader fandom died in like 2018. hope this was enjoyable thoo 🩷

[mythica0]

Can you do a fic of the digital circus in a tickle fight?

Chaos

🎂:TADC

🍫:everyone

🧁everyone

Summary: When Caine and Jax get bored, they decide to team up and stir up a little bit of a friendly battle amongst the circus, and cause a little chaos!

Chaos

‘Ahhh, a quiet day. Finally’ Zooble thought as she lounged in the main area of the tent.

‘…..wait. It’s quiet. Something bad is going to happen, I can feel it. It’s never quiet.’

He sighed and assessed the room around them, trying to see anything out of place that could be a trigger for a classic Jax-prank, or any sign of another ridiculous adventure by Caine. Then she noticed why it might be a little quiet.

“Uhh… guys? Where is Caine and Jax?” They spoke with suspicion as they continued to dart his eyes around the space.

“Uh… I don’t know,” Ragatha chimed in, “come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen either of them today.”

A hum of confirmation came from Pomni. “Me neither. I wonder why?” She paused for a moment.

“Kinger? Did you see anything?”

The chess piece stuck his head out of his pillow fort. “Nope! I’ve been working on rebuilding my fort! …. What are we talking about?”

“Uhhh… nevermind.” And they continued in their quiet.

***

Meanwhile, In another room in the tent (Jax’s room, to be specific) a little chat was going on.

“So we both agree it’s been too….. calm.. around here recently. I haven’t gotten to see enough funny things happening to people!!” Jax spoke with his signature grin.

“Absolutely! And besides, I think everyone has been a little down in the dumps recently! And I know just the thing to cheer them all up!” The ringmaster of the circus replies enthusiastically.

“…. And cause a little chaos in the process, right?” Jax smirks, to a nod from Caine.

Caine leaves over to whisper the plan to Jax, even though no one else is around. “So here’s what we’re gonna do ….”

Jax’s smile somehow grew wider. “… oh. This is gonna be good”

***

After a while of sitting in peace and quiet, the noise appeared, startling everyone. A sharp squeal erupted from Ragatha, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Hey! Who did that!”

Then, while everyone was confused, Pomni doubled over in giggles.

“Hehey! Whahat the heheck!”

Finally, the mischief makers showed themselves, and shouted- “TICKLE FIGHT!”

The two immediately pounded on the nearest player to them, causing Pomni and Ragatha respectively to burst into giggles.

Caine drawled teasingly-“it’s more fun if you participate~!”

“Ohoho yeheah!” Ragatha shouted defiantly, reaching up and squeezing Jax’s side.

He squeaked slightly and let go of her, grinning even wider. “Theheheres thehehe sphihirit, dohollfahahace!”

Pomni, however, was a little too embarrassed to fight back. Zooble, seeing this thought to himself.

‘You know, this adventure isn’t so bad. Maybe I’ll participate.’

They walked up sneakily behind the ringmaster and shoved their hands into his underarms, causing him to bark with laughter and curl in on himself.

“Learn to tickle someone your own size!”

“Thahanks zohohooble! …wahait wahas thahat a shohort joke?!”

Kinger, hearing the commotion, emerged from his fort to see the other members of the circus engaged in a massive tickle fight. He told Gangle, who was helping him build his fort as a way to calm down from a random cry she had, and she smiled.

“Sounds like fun. We should join.”

“Okay!”

The two crawled out and jumped in to the pile of pixels on the floor, and their laughter soon joined the rest.

“Take that Jax! This is for always breaking my mask!”

“Ehhehehey gahahangle! Quhihit thahat!”

“I’ll help you Jax!” Kinger called jokingly, poking gangles … rib(on)s.

“Ehee! Trahahitohor!”

“We never said we were on a team, gangle.”

The entire circus was engulfed in noise and laughter the rest of the day, and at the end they all sat down at dinner full of giggles and laughter.

“Well, I’d say that was a successful plan, would you dentures?”

“Indeed!”

“Yeah, it was kinda fun.” Pomni spoke nervously.

“Definitely wasn’t the worst adventure you’ve ever made, Caine.” Zooble chuckled.

“Maybe sometimes it’s okay to have a little chaos.”

———THE END————————————————

[sataniquepanique]

Desert Song

Summary: Inspired by My Chemical Romance's Desert Song. After the events of '86, you try to move on with your life. Four years later, you're about to finish college and living with your boyfriend Steve. Eddie shows up one night, not alive but not dead either.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. Smut, unprotected PIV sex, angst, drinking, mentions of suicide/self-harm, mentions of depression/trauma

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: This was supposed to be a short 1k word count bullshit story, but I spiraled. It will now be two parts <3

Part One: I Can See You Awake Anytime in My Head

“Y/N!” 

You hear your boyfriend calling you from the bedroom, followed by a loud crash and multiple dull thumps. Sighing as you lift your face from the textbook it’s buried in, you stare blankly down the hallway leading to the back of your apartment. “Yes, babe?” Your answer is overly sweet, trying to hide your slight irritation.

“Have you seen my sneakers? The white Nike’s with the red uh…swoopy thing?” He jogs out of the bedroom, warm brown eyes slightly frantic as he scans the floor for his missing shoes. 

You cock an eyebrow as he enters the kitchen where you’re stationed on a wooden stool. Papers and books litter the small counter in front of you, along with a now cold mug of coffee that you had long forgotten about. 

“Swoopy thing?” You slowly reiterate back to him.

“I don’t know what it’s called!” He throws his hands up in exasperation, running one through his perfectly askew hair and letting the other settle onto his hip.

“Did you check the shelf in the hall closet?” You suggest cooly, knowing exactly where you had placed them after finding both shoes tossed haphazardly on the kitchen floor yesterday.

Hastily walking to the closet, he throws the door open and crouches down to rifle through the contents . 

“A-HA!” He holds up the sneakers in triumph.

You smirk and roll your eyes, turning your attention back to the open textbook on the counter. “Maybe now you’ll learn that your shoes go in there, and not on the floor, or on the recliner, or—.”

“—yeah, yeah. I get it.” He nods his head sarcastically as he ties his shoes, a few messy pieces of hair falling in front of his eyes.

Straightening up and adjusting his dark green Family Video vest, he strides into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from the back. Nestling his face into the side of your neck, he starts trailing soft kisses up to your ear.

His hair tickles your cheek, making you giggle as you playfully push him away. “Steve! You’re going to be late for work, and I need to study for this exam.”

He groans into one final kiss below your jaw. “I’ll be home after 11 tonight, I promised Keith the night off.”

“Okay, I’ll leave dinner in the fridge in case you’re hungry. Love you.”

Halfway out the door he pauses and smiles back at you. “I love you too, babe.” 

With Steve gone for the night the apartment falls into complete silence. 

You hate it. You hate the stillness.

What used to be calming and peaceful, now brings on immense anxiety and panic. Your thoughts catch up to you, memories resurface after being pushed down and buried for so many years. Desperate for any sort of auditory distraction, you unlatch the kitchen window, pushing it open to let the sounds of springtime in Hawkins flood the small apartment. The kids shouting in the street, birds chirping in the trees, the soft drone of an airplane overhead. The town has come a long way since the devastating events of 1986. Four years ago Hawkins was nearly decimated by Vecna, with a majority of the oblivious residents choosing to uproot and move away after the “earthquake” ripped the town in half. The gates to the Upside Down were finally closed for good in ’88 all thanks to El, but not without sacrifices from you and the rest of your friends. All of you were different after that, with varying degrees of trauma and grief that still linger to this day. Each of you cope in unique ways, some moving far away to try and forget, others like yourself just keep busy and steel yourself away behind a set of emotional armor. As your thoughts threaten to drift towards him, you quickly shake your head and go back to studying. It’s been years since you talked about him, years since you let yourself even think about him, and you weren’t about to start now. 

Senior year of college is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. The death of whatever part of you was even left after ’86, anyway. Only one more month until graduation, but those 30 days are stacked with exams and deadlines to the point where you feel like your brain might actually explode. After high school, you stayed local for college, not wanting to be too far from your support system after the tragedy. The rest of the group was scattered, some living close by and others on opposite coasts. Nancy was in Boston about to graduate from Emerson, still dating Jonathan (albeit long distance) with him staying in California with his mom and Will. Robin was at school in Muncie, a few towns over from Hawkins, enabling you to see her often much to Steve’s annoyance. As much as you still couldn’t wrap your head around it, the younger kids had all graduated high school last year, moving out of Hawkins. Mike and El were both enrolled at Indiana State a few hours away, while Lucas had followed Max back to California and is now on the USC men’s basketball team while she studies social work. Dustin was in his freshman year at Virginia Tech for engineering, calling every week to check in with you and Steve. Erica Sinclair was the lone kid left at Hawkins High, and the youngest DM in Hellfire Club history, taking over after Jeff and Gareth had graduated. You, Steve, and Robin take turns picking her up from the club’s meetings every Friday. Steve had refused to leave Hawkins, not after everything that happened. He was adamant on rebuilding a sense of normalcy, which is why he jumped at the chance to buy Family Video after the owner decided to move with the rest of the herd of Hawkins refugees. Keith was a little pissed that Steve “The Hair” Harrington was now his superior, but he got over it pretty quickly when he saw how lenient of a boss Steve is. 

Running your hands over your face, you decide to start dinner to take a break from studying, afraid that your eyes would start bleeding if you read another sentence about the Bronze Age of Ancient Greece. The sun had started to set, casting a warm golden glow over the apartment. Scooping up some vegetables from the fridge, you dump them onto the counter and start prepping. Reaching over the sink, you turn on the small radio on the windowsill and sing along to Nirvana while chopping up a green pepper.

—I’m standing in your line

I do hope you have the time

I do pick a number too

I do keep a date with you— 

A loud creak from the back of the apartment ceases your singing. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you grip the handle of the knife tighter. Your brain tells you that it’s nothing, but your body is screaming otherwise. Every cell is drawing you towards it, begging for investigation. Your heartbeat quickens as you creep down the hallway to the bedroom, carefully padding down the hardwood floor. Lingering in the doorway, your eyes fall to the mess that Steve had left when he was looking for his shoes earlier. “It was just something falling out of the closet” you convince yourself as you exhale. A sudden breeze sails through the room, and you see that the bedroom window is wide open. You can’t remember if you opened it earlier. Maybe Steve? Peering out into the now dark woods behind the apartment, you swear you can see a figure standing just beyond the tree line. You blink, convinced your eyes are playing tricks, and upon a second glance it’s gone. 

———

The anniversary of the Battle of ’86 is always bittersweet. The entire gang gets together each year, and it’s always comforting to be together again. There’s a piece missing though. Not just a piece of the group, but also of your heart, a piece that was left in the Upside Down four years ago. No one talks about him, at least not to you anyway, only the casual mention of his name on the anniversary. This year it was your turn to host, Steve opting to grill on your back porch while the rest of the group could hang out and play yard games behind your ground floor apartment. While Steve busies himself in the kitchen, you clean off the lawn chairs and set up the small copper fire pit. You find yourself glancing into the woods occasionally, still not fully convinced your eyes had deceived you the other night. 

“Robin’s here!” Steve calls out the kitchen window, breaking your thoughts away from the trees. She throws the sliding door open and strides out onto the lawn. “Hi love bug!” She smiles widely as you run to hug her. “I’ve brought the children!” She motions behind her as Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Erica file through the door.

“I’m 19, I’m in college for Christ’s sake.” Dustin grimaces. 

“Hi Dustybuns!” you add fuel to his hate-fire as you pull him into a hug. 

After the Upside Down, Dustin had pulled away from the group, spending his time rotting away in his room building random gadgets to keep his mind busy. Months went by, with each friend trying to break him out of his reclusive state to no avail. Steve finally had enough, he couldn’t stand seeing Dustin wither away, so he begged you to talk to him knowing that the two of you had shared trauma. Dustin didn’t look at you when you showed up to his house, just opened the door and led you into his room silently when you had asked to speak in private. To this day, you hadn’t told Steve or the rest of them what was said in that room. How you both broke down, holding Dustin in your arms on the floor as he cried. How he repeatedly chanted “why did he leave me?” through heaving sobs. It shattered your already broken heart even more, knowing how much he loved him. How he had filled part of the paternal hole that Dustin’s dad had created after abandoning him years prior. You promised Dustin that you would always look out for him, that it’s what he would have wanted, that Dustin was his brother not by blood but by choice. Dustin reluctantly agreed to show up more after that, coming around for dinner with you and Steve every other week or going to the movies with Mike and Lucas. Eventually he seemed to be back to normal, his sarcasm and jabs at Steve more frequent, and when he received his acceptance letter to Virginia Tech you were the first person he called. “He’d be so proud of you.” Is all you said in response, and it’s all Dustin wanted to hear. 

“Henderson! A little help?” Steve appears in the doorway, arms full of food as Dustin moves to grab some plates from his hands. Nancy and Jonathan show up a few minutes later with Mike and El in tow. Nancy shoves a bottle of wine into your hands, going on and on about the great wineries she’s visited in California while on spring break with Jonathan.

“How are you?” Max asks moving to your side away from the rest of the group, who were now mingling and catching up. You have all been through hell and back, but nothing like what she had experienced. Her physical injuries had healed, leaving jagged white scars from the surgeries to reposition her broken joints, but her mental wounds lingered, manifesting in frequent panic attacks and angry outbursts. Moving to California had helped, she picked up surfing and it seemed to calm her. 

“I’m uh, surviving.” You give a half smile, knowing both of you would never be upfront about your struggles. “Today’s hard for all of us.” 

She nods in agreement, and the two of you watch as Steve and Dustin bicker over how long to grill a burger for. 

As the sun sets, Steve builds a fire in the small copper basin on the lawn as the rest of you drag chairs to circle around. The warm glow feels good against your face, and you stare into the flames as Dustin stands across the circle from you. 

Raising his red solo cup he clears his throat nervously. “I just want to say…that I’m really glad we were all able to get together again, even if it’s for a memorial. You guys are my best friends, I’m not sure what I’d do without you.” He looks around at everyone’s faces glowing from the fire, leaving yours for last.

Lifting his cup a little higher, he proposes a toast, his eyes lingering on you. “To Hawkins rebuilding…and to Eddie.”

His name makes you wince. 

You can feel everyone’s eyes dart between Dustin and you. On auto-pilot, you raise the plastic cup in your hands robotically.

“To Eddie.” They all repeat.

You can’t bring yourself to utter his name in return.

Not wanting to end the night on a sad note, Robin takes it upon herself to bring out Steve’s boombox and pull him to his feet for a dance. The other kids laugh along at their terrible coordination, and you let yourself smile a little. As it gets later into the night, the fun starts to wind down and some yawns begin to surface. 

Robin stands by the back door with Erica, jingling her keys as she watches everyone say their goodbyes. Lucas leads Max out, arm around her shoulders protectively as she waves at you. Nancy hugs you, demanding on making plans for you to visit her in Boston, as she wrangles Jonathan, Mike and El out the door. Steve gives Dustin a huge bear hug, followed by their secret handshake that still manages to put a smile on everyone’s face. 

You take your seat again, still gazing into the fire that was now starting to die out. Steve walks over and leans down, kissing your cheek. 

“I’m gonna go to bed, ‘kay?” He smooths your hair down and cups the side of your face.

You nod into his touch, looking up at him with a forced smile. “Okay, I’m going to stay out here a little while and relax.”

You see the hesitation in his eyes, there’s a sadness behind it that he doesn’t ever vocalize. He knows how hard the past four years has been for you, and he wasn’t one to pry. You had both been friends all through high school, even before everything happened with Will and the Upside Down. After everything you’ve been through, he knew you better than anyone. Anyone alive that is. The two of you grew closer after you graduated in ’86, with him being a shoulder to cry on as you mourned the death of your boyfriend Eddie. Steve was there to pick up the pieces, eventually moving in with you to help make rent. Two years ago things turned romantic, though you can’t remember how. Your lives were so entwined that it just seemed right. You love him, not like you had loved Eddie, and in the back of his mind Steve knew that. He was your rock, and you’d always be eternally grateful to him for bringing you back from the brink. 

With everyone gone, a wave of exhaustion crashes over you. Closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the chair, you completely overlook the fact that Steve had shut off the radio on his way inside. A warm breeze breaks through the trees, engulfing you in the soothing scent of cedar and the lingering smoke from the fire. Eddie’s face creeps into your mind as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to forget. You see his big brown eyes, how they sparkled when he was being mischievous. His unruly hair, and how it felt between your fingers as you made love in the back of his van on warm nights like this. You feel the tears start to well, and don’t even try to stop them. Pulling your knees into your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs and bury your face, trying to muffle the sobs that were bubbling to the surface. 

“Fuck you.” You whisper.

“Fuck you for leaving. Fuck you for being a hero. Fuck. You.” You cry into the night. 

“—Is that a threat, or a promise, princess?” Someone answers.

You nearly fall out of your chair, head whipping towards the direction of the voice. 

Eddie Munson is leaning against a tree at the edge of the woods, a devilish grin plastered onto his pale face.

“Ed-Eddie…?” You whisper incredulously, inching forward off the lawn chair.

“In the flesh.” He holds his arms out and gives a slight bow.

“That’s not possible. I must have drank more than I thought tonight. You’re not really here, I’m imagining it.” You laugh darkly, shaking your head as you turn away to go inside. You’re really off the deep end now, your mind tells you, hallucinating your dead boyfriend? Get a fucking grip.

He reaches out and grabs your wrist, fingers ice cold against your skin. You try and recoil, but he pulls you closer to him, meeting his eyes. They’re not the same eyes you remember. Irises that were once deep brown and full of life, are now completely black and had years of secrets behind them. You study him, taking in every detail of what you’re still trying to convince yourself is a figment of your grief-stricken imagination. He’s leaner than you remember, but also stronger, the muscle definition showing through his old leather jacket and ripped black jeans. Your free hand travels up his arm, he almost feels like he’s made of stone. 

“How—how is this possible…I watched you die.” The phrase barely makes it out of your mouth.

“Yeah, that was real. That happened.” He shifted uncomfortably. “But I uh, I was given a second chance of sorts.”

“…what does that mean exactly?” You step back, looking back towards his face.

Eddie nervously puts his hands in his back pockets and smiles at you, fangs glinting against the moonlight. 

“Jesus Christ.” You hiss, taking another step back from him in shock.

He looks at you and you can see that he’s hurt by your retreat.

“Are you…are you going to kill me?” You ask calmly, a small part of you hoping that’s the case. 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he quickly shakes his head, familiar wild hair flying around his shoulders. “No! No, absolutely not.” 

“Then why are you here, how are you here? It’s been four years Ed…” You swallow the lump in your throat.

He sighs, kicking at the ground. “After I died, after you left the Upside Down, Vecna found me. He’s the one that changed me into—into this.” He motions a hand down his body. “He wanted me to be his right hand man, and for a while I was, helping him build his army. I bided my time, tried to figure out a way to escape, to find a way back to you. When I noticed the gates starting to close two years ago, I knew it was time, otherwise I’d never get the chance to find you again. So I slipped through one of the gates, right before it shut, before he could follow me. I set up camp in the woods near Skull Rock, but I was pretty drained after leaving the Upside Down, so I took some time to regain my strength and then sought you out.” 

He sat down in one of the lawn chairs and stared into the embers of the bonfire. With his face illuminated, you can see how exhausted he looks. 

“I’ve watched you for almost two years, too afraid to reveal what I’ve become. I’ve seen your good days, I’ve seen your bad ones. I’ve watched as you hid away from everyone, and became a shell of your former self.” 

It stung to hear him say it out loud, but you knew it was true. You died the day you lost Eddie, and no amount of time could heal that. You’ve spent years trying to hide your apathy from the world, but Eddie was always able to see right through you. 

“I’m sorry…” your head hangs as heavy tears begin to roll down your cheeks. In a split second, Eddie is upright and holding you. One arm around your waist, the other pulling your head into his chest. You grip at the back of his jacket, sobbing into his shirt. 

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispers into your hair, kissing the top of your head. You look up at him, face wet with years of pent up grief. He leans down and you meet him halfway, kissing him softly. The two of you stay in the embrace for a while, unwilling to let the other one go. You stifle a yawn, and Eddie cups your chin to look up at him. 

“Go inside and get some sleep. I’ll come back tomorrow.” His voice is low and soothing as he runs a hand through your hair. You close your eyes and nod your head, bringing your lips to meet his again. 

———

You didn’t sleep at all, instead staring at the back of Steve’s head as he snored softly, trying to bring yourself back down to earth. How is this possible? 

When the sky starts to turn a dusty pink, you give up on sleep and sneak out to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Ever so often you glance out the window towards the woods, trying to catch a glimpse of Eddie. All you can see is trees. Maybe you did make it all up? Maybe you had finally snapped? The more you stared out into the forest, the more you started to believe last night never happened.

Steve wakes up a short time later, shuffling into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around you as you wash the dishes, absentmindedly staring out the small kitchen window.

“Hey…” He whispers as he kisses the side of your neck slowly. You turn around in his arms and run your hands over his naked chest, fingers tracing over his old demobat scars. 

I wonder what Eddie’s scars look like. 

You push the thought out of your mind quickly. “Good Morning,” You finally respond, kissing him softly.

“I’m gonna take a shower before work, wanna come with?” He bites his lip, raising his eyebrows hopefully. You giggle a yes and let him pull you down the hall.

Steve leaves for work a little before 9am, leaving you alone on the couch trying to study for your upcoming final exams. You can’t concentrate, you must have read the same sentence 30 times before you hear a soft knock at the back door. Throwing your textbook onto the couch and leaping up, you rip the door open and see Eddie smiling at you. It was real. It was all real.

You step back but he doesn’t follow inside. Giving him a quizzical look, he has the utmost seriousness written on his pale face. “You have to invite vampires inside, otherwise we can’t cross the threshold.”

Hearing him say the word outright gives you pause. It gives you goosebumps, but not in a bad way, something that surprises you.

“OH! I’m sorry. I didn’t know…uh please come in, Eddie.” You motion towards the living room dramatically. He gives you a shit-eating grin. 

“I’m totally fucking with you, that’s not true.” He pushes through the door and takes a look around your apartment. 

“Are there like…rules or things I should know about though? Like the whole garlic thing?” You feel like a complete idiot right now. 

Eddie shakes his head, meandering around your living room looking around aimlessly. “Not really. A stake in the heart will kill me, but that’s about it.” He waves a hand dismissively. 

You try to remember all the things you’ve read about vampires throughout the years. 

“What about sunlight?” 

“Nah. It doesn’t hurt me, it’s just mildly uncomfortable. Like a sunburn almost.” He shrugs.

You nod thoughtfully, unsure of what to say next.

“There’s perks though. I got really strong after I turned, and I also have supersonic hearing.” He picks up a picture frame on a side table, containing a photo of you and Steve from last Halloween. “In fact…I heard you fucking Harrington in the shower earlier.”

His admission, and also his tone, make your blood pressure rise. Before you have the chance to respond he picks up your discarded textbook and reads the cover. “Art History, hmm?”

“Yeah, I’m about to graduate next month with a BFA. Well, hopefully, if I pass my next few exams.” 

He sets the book down on the coffee table and leans against the arm of the couch. “I’ve seen you staying up late studying, you always have this light on until early morning.” He points at the side table lamp in the corner of the living room.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to crawl up into a ball and fucking die. He had been out there all along, and you had no idea. Life continued, you continued, while he waited in the shadows.

“What do you wanna do with it, with your degree?” He brings you back to reality.

“Uh, teach, actually. I would love to teach art to elementary school kids.” 

“You were always good with them…” he wanders into the kitchen and leans back again the fridge closer to where you stand. 

“…did you ever wonder what our kids would’ve been like?” He asks suddenly, catching you off guard.

“Not since…everything—” You shake your head. The two of you had talked about the future before, about breaking out of Hawkins after graduation and never looking back. Eloping in a little white chapel in Vegas or something, and living out west making music and art together. 

“—I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it often back in the day though.” A small laugh escapes your mouth as you think about it. “I think they’d be super cute. Dark curls like yours, freckles, a deep love for music and art from the time they’re babies—“

“—oh absolutely. No kid of mine would grow up without knowing the godfathers of metal at least.” He interrupts, pushing himself off the fridge.

“They’d be a handful.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “They’d take after you, and they would drive me insane.”

Eddie breaks out into the same mega-watt smile you used to love, save the two pointy fang additions. “Yeah, they would.” He chuckles, a hint of sadness breaking through.

“But I’d love them with every fiber of my being. Just like I did their dad.” Your smile falters, and the pit in your stomach returns. Eddie see’s your face fall, and he slowly walks over and pulls you into him. You inhale him as silent tears roll down your cheeks.

Standing in the kitchen, clinging to each other, time slows. You’re not sure how long you stayed like that, taking in each other’s presence like the night before. 

You brush your sleeve against your eyes and look up at him. “Eddie, what are we going to do?”

He rubs his thumb against your cheek, staring into your eyes. “I don’t know. All I know is that I have you and I’m never letting you go again.” 

Kissing you softly, he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in. Your arms snake around his neck and the kiss deepens, becoming hungrier and more erratic. Feeling the heat starting to pool between your thighs, you peel Eddie’s jacket off his shoulders as he picks you up by your ass. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is through his jeans as he carries you back to your room. He throws you backwards onto the unmade bed and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his lean torso covered in scars. 

“Oh…Eddie…” you reach up and run your fingers across the raised marks littering his sides, your eyes start to water. He puts both hands on each side of your face, forcing you to look at him. 

“Hey, I’m here. I’m okay. Everything’s okay now.” 

You nod as he closes the space between you, pushing you backwards onto the bed as you explore each other’s mouths. Running your tongue along his fangs turns you on in a new, weird way, not to mention his taste. He tastes metallic almost, and in the back of your mind you know exactly why. His calloused hands trace up the side of your body, pushing your t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it in a heap onto your floor. He begins to grind his hips into you, inhaling the soft moans coming from your mouth. The thin flannel shorts you’re wearing create barely any barrier between your throbbing core and his hard cock that is threatening to tear through his jeans. 

“Eddie…I need you. Please, it’s been so long…” you say in-between sloppy kisses.

“I got you, baby. I’ll take of you, don’t worry.” He trails his way down your body, littering your chest with soft bites and a few kisses until he gets to your shorts. He promptly rips them off, discovering you completely had forgone underwear. The blood pumping in your ears was so loud, but you could’ve sworn you heard him growl when he saw your naked body. Kicking his jeans off, he crawls back up to meet your eyes as he lines up with your entrance. A large ringed hand smooths down the side of your face. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” His voice is filled with longing as he nuzzled his nose against yours. 

You kiss him softly. “Show me, Eddie.” 

His initial thrust into you makes you see stars. It feels like the earth had begun to spin again after being off kilter for so many years. Eddie was the missing piece, the two of you fitting perfectly together, and he was finally back where he belongs. His pace is slow but deep, and he begins to nip at your neck, his fangs pricking at your skin.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself…” Eddie growls between kisses against your jugular. 

“I’m not afraid of you, Eddie.” Your voice is strong and reassuring as he straightens up, the new angle causing him to push deeper into you. He gingerly kisses the inside of your wrist, dragging his fangs across the delicate skin as his dark eyes watch you.

“Maybe you should be.” He winks, showing off his fangs with a wry smile. A soft moan escapes your lips, causing Eddie to quicken his pace, slamming your body into the headboard. The powerful thrusts shake the bed, causing a picture frame on the nightstand to topple over loudly. Eddie looks over at the noise and his eyes meet a photo of you and Steve kissing. 

His hips falter, slowing down as he shakes his head.

“Everything okay?” You reach a hand up to caress his cheek. His face is unreadable, but when he meets your eyes there’s an anger there, something you haven’t seen before. He pulls out and leans back on his knees. 

“Eddie? What’s wrong, are you okay?” You sit up, reaching out to him as he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“I can’t do this with you, not in the bed you fuck him in.” His voice is low, almost a whisper as his eyes narrow. “…Do you know how hard it’s been?” His grip on your wrist tightens.

“Yes Eddie, I do. It’s been awful, I’ve cried myself to sleep more nights than—“

“—I sat and watched as you moved on, with school, with life, with him.” The last word was said with so much venom that it makes you choke.

“Steve?” You’re suddenly filled with a smoldering rage by his tone. You yank your wrist out of his painful grip.

“Yes, fucking Steve. I had to sit and watch you fall in love with that prick!”

“Eddie you died!” You sit up straighter, trying to control the level of your voice. “I didn’t set out to fall in love with anyone else, it just happened, two years after your death, mind you! Steve was there for me, he helped me every single step of the way through all of my breakdowns and days that I just wanted to fucking die—“

“— he left me down there.” He deadpans.

“We all did!” You roar as he avoids your eyes. “You died in my arms, Eddie. I watched the life drain from your eyes as I begged you to stay with me. I tried to bring your body back, but it would’ve slowed us down and killed us all. Steve carried me out of there and saved my life.”

Eddie was silent for a few beats as you steadied your emotions.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles.

You shake your head sadly. “A lot happened that you didn’t see. We’re all fucked up because of it. Dustin was a ghost for a while. Him, Mike and Lucas don’t even play D&D anymore because it’s too painful.”

He hangs his head, staring at the rings on his hand. 

“…I tried to kill myself Eddie.” You whisper as you grip the sides of your legs for stability.

His face snaps up to look at you, and you watch as the tears start to cloud his dark eyes. 

“Steve found me. It was in this apartment. We were supposed to meet up with Robin that day for lunch, and when I didn’t answer the door he kicked it in and found me. He moved in shortly after that, telling me he wanted to help me afford rent but I know it’s because he wanted to keep an eye on me.”

Tears were falling down both of your faces as he grabs your hand, tracing soothing circles with his thumb. Your heart melts, memories flooding back of the sweet, lovable boy he once was.

Inching closer, he looks up at you as you put your hand out to stroke the side of his face. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm. 

You let out a sob as he pulls you onto his lap. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he buries his face in your neck. He kisses your temple and pulls your face back to look at you, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“I thought about you every second of every day. You were my reason for living—or surviving I guess, seeing as how I don’t have a pulse.” He lets out a shaky laugh. 

You hiccup and smile at him. “I never stopped thinking about you Eddie, as much as I wanted to forget about the trauma of it all. I’ve missed you more than you can even imagine.”

He closes the gap between you with a kiss, slow at first and then building and becoming deeper again. You grip his hair as his hands move down to your lower back, pressing you into him more. Straddling his waist you reach down and put him back inside of your warmth, beginning to ride him slowly. 

His mouth attaches to your left nipple, sucking it while his hand massages your other breast. The sensation of him makes you quicken your pace. You lean back slightly to let him hit the spot inside that drives you absolutely insane. 

Eddie stares at you in awe as you throw your head back. “Eddie, baby…”

He grips your waist as he starts to meet your thrusts. “Cum for me sweetheart, show me how much you missed me.”

He continues to buck up into you as you ride out your high, and you can tell he’s close by how hard he’s gripping and kneading your ass. You grab both sides of his face and pull him up to kiss you as you felt him explode inside of you, deep groans rumbling through his chest. 

You didn’t remove yourself from his lap, staying exactly where you were with him inside of you, kissing each other lazily as you recovered. 

Your legs began to fall asleep, and you slowly remove him and scoot back on the bed, motioning for him to join you. The previous night’s lack of sleep was catching up to you, and your body felt like it was moving at a glacial pace. Eddie laid down next to you, enveloping you in his arms as you closed your eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me know what you think! Also, check out my other work! <3