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queers-gambit · 9 months

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Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

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Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

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Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

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yanaromanov · 1 month

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my sweet assistant

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni

authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)

part two of the inescapable love series

inescapable love series

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

11.5K words

People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.

The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.

The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.

You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.

Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.

The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.

When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”

It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”

"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."

The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"

The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."

"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."

Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."

You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.

Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."

Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"

A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"

As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"

Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."

This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."

The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"

You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."

The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"

Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."

She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."

You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.

———

"When are you back again?"

"Friday night. About nine-ish?"

You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."

As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.

But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.

You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.

"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."

The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"

You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"

As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."

Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."

"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"

You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.

"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."

Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."

———

The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.

Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.

"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.

"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."

The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"

Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."

"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.

"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."

The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"

A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."

With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”

Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."

Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."

Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."

———

The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.

There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.

Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.

Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.

All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.

Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.

That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.

———

"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"

Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.

Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."

A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"

You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.

“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”

You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”

Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.

“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”

You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.

“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”

You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”

“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.

It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.

“You getting on alright, milaya?”

The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”

She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”

Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.

“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”

“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”

Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.

“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.

“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”

An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?

You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”

Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.

Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”

Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”

You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.

Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”

Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”

The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”

A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.

“And what to do you want to do?”

“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.

“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”

Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.

“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.

You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”

“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”

Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.

You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.

The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.

Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.

You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.

“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”

Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“

You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.

You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“

“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”

Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.

“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”

“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”

You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”

If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”

“Language building, room ML4.”

“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”

With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”

Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”

“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”

The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”

“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.

Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.

Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”

Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.

But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.

You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”

Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.

The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”

Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.

You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”

You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.

This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”

You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”

Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”

“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”

The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”

The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?

———

Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.

Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.

Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.

One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.

Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.

"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."

At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."

Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"

Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?

"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.

Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."

A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"

You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.

"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."

Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.

But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"

"Go on, milaya."

You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."

Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"

You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."

Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"

"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."

You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.

"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #lawyer wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic kate bishop x reader

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luna-rainbow · 10 months

Text

On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness

Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.

Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.

Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.

But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.

Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."

So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.

In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.

What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.

At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."

It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).

When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?

"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."

He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."

When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.

The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.

But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"

Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.

When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.

And that dream dies with Bucky.

"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.

He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.

His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.

And he is denied even that.

He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.

But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.

A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.

He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.

What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.

Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).

He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.

He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.

"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.

The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.

He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.

Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.

It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.

"He doesn't know you."

"He will."

He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.

And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.

Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.

"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."

Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.

Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.

That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.

So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.

And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.

#steve rogers #steve rogers meta #bucky barnes #stucky #stucky meta #long post #this got away from me and is super long sorry #anti endgame #as always

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temis-de-leon · 1 month

Text

MC with a selfish best friend

MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.

Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Masterlist

CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers

A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.

It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.

She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.

Thank god she had her best friend.

Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.

MC wished she let her hold her hand too.

“She’s overthinking again. Not good”

“Look who’s talking”

“Hey! It was just a joke!”

“Should we talk to her?”

“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”

“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”

“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”

“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”

“Who ya calling selfish?”

“Ugh”

MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.

She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.

Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.

So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.

The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.

Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.

At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.

Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.

“Dinner is ready”

He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel.

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

“Not for a while, no”

“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know”

She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.

He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.

All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.

That would not continue. Not on his watch.

“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?”

“God, yes!”

They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.

Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.

Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.

Although, lately, things had been slightly different.

They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.

MC still said no.

Then Asmodeus put his input.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”

And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.

“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.

MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”

“No way!”

Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.

“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”

“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”

Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.

“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”

“About what?”

She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”

All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.

Of course, Mammon spoke first.

“Well, that’s a lot”

“No shit, you moron”

Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.

You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?

She achieved to ignore him in the end.

That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.

Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.

Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.

However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.

MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”

There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”

Beel stared at her with a worried expression.

“We don’t. It’s Saturday”

“Ah”

She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.

“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.

There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.

“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.

“Is it cold?”

“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”

MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.

“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”

His smile was too wide for him to answer.

Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.

MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?

She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.

“No, I’m fine”

She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.

Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?

But no, it wasn’t that.

MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.

He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.

Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.

She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.

“Is something wrong, MC?”

Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.

“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”

MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”

He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.

“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”

She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.

“Don’t be nasty!”

“Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”

MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.

She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.

“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”

He gasped and hit her arm in return.

“As you should!”

“So… how do I look?”

Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.

“You look mighty fine, MC!”

“Stop!”

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”

“Stop!!”

They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.

The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.

Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.

MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.

“C’mon, go change again!”

“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”

She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.

Then her phone rang.

MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.

She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.

“Is it The Unnameable?”

MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.

“The Unname… Robdemor??”

He nodded, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”

“She doesn’t bring bad luck”

MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.

“Don’t be stupid, MC”

The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.

Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.

“She just… needs me sometimes”

“Sometimes??”

Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.

The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.

She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.

God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.

In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.

He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.

It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.

But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.

She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.

Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She didn’t ask about MC once.

“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”

MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.

He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.

“Jesus, Belphie”

“No, just me”

“Ha ha ha”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.

“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.

“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”

“Watch me”

She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Belphie!”

He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.

MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.

…

Whoa.

…

So that’s what it was.

That simple, uh?

MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.

No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.

“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”

Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.

“Why? Would you feel guilty?

He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.

“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”

“I will as long as I can get something out of it”

“You’re evil”

“Said the demon”

His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.

“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.

“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.

“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.

She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.

“Goodnight, Belphie”

“Sweet dreams, MC”

He’d make sure of that.

MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.

Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.

Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.

“I think I’m going to cut my hair”

He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?

“May I ask why?”

“I need a change”

Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.

“Did something happen?”

She nodded, ignoring his question right after.

“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Do you even like wine, MC?”

“That’s not the point”

“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”

She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.

“I just really need a change”

He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.

“That’s fine”

MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”

“I’m not a child, Lucifer”

“Might as well”

“Hey!”

“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.

“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”

Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.

The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.

“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”

Her smile at his words was worth millions.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.

The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.

And she could see why he would say that, honestly.

Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.

MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!

MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.

You disappoint me, MC.

After all I did for you?

I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.

I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.

You’ll never be able to forget about me then.

You’re disgusting.

MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.

The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.

She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.

“Hey, Henry!”

MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”

“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”

“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”

Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.

MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.

Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.

Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?

MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.

After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.

“Hey Lev…”

“MC?”

He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.

Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.

“Would you help me change my phone number?”

She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.

Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.

God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.

She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.

She was crying.

@ourfinalisation

379 notes · View notes

andvys · 7 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 18

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of body dysmorphia, mentions of an eating disorder, mentions of weight loss, mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy (don't worry, it's nothing), depression and anxiety

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!cheerleader!reader

Summary: A conversation with a girl that you had been trying to avoid, leaves you more confused than ever -- it might just be the cause of a storm in your heart.

Word count: 6k

A/N: BIG BIG BIG SHOUTOUT TO THE LITTLE DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER AKA @hellfire--cult thank you so much for helping me, with this chapter especially! I was struggling with the dialogue at the end of this chapter and you were such a big help so thank you -- you're talented, amazing, show-stopping, perfect, thank you for helping me with the dialogues (and so many other ideas) mwah! You guys better follow her and give her stories the love they deserve

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The gym is filled with girls dressed in their cheer uniforms, the color green is starting to give you a headache, just like the sound of giggles and hushed whispers as the girls next to you talk about the latest gossip. Another supposed breakup.

This time it’s Tommy and Carol again.

Just three weeks back, you heard rumors about Steve and Nancy’s apparent breakup, which turned out to be just a rumor, considering you’ve seen them together – maybe less than before but they are still around each other, laughing and smiling just like before.

Clearly, they are still together.

But teenagers love to make up rumors – especially about people like you and Steve. Despite both yours and his fall down the social ladder, you are still the hot topics of the school.

They love to make up rumors about your relationship or past relationship with Steve and your friendship with Eddie – or as they still like to call him, the freak.

Apparently you and Eddie had been seen making out in his van.

Apparently you and Eddie have been in a secret relationship since august, last year.

Apparently you cheated on the king with the freak.

Apparently the satan worshiper had cursed your relationship with the king – so he could have you.

Apparently you are pregnant with Eddie’s baby and living in his trailer.

Apparently you and Eddie are in love and secretly married – at least, you understand that rumor. The matching rings on both yours and his ring finger may have been the cause of it.

The pregnancy rumor made you physically sick – it made you stand in front of the mirror, checking for signs that you had gained weight. You did not, it still made you feel nauseous and you had to cancel your dinner ‘date’ with your friends.

A sigh falls from your lips when you hear Teresa talking about her future in college – Princeton to be exact. Of course the cute brunette has it all, beauty and brains. The straight A student isn’t only one of the smartest students in Hawkins High, she is also one of the prettiest – cat eyes, a small nose and big lips, she is thin but her boobs are, well, they are huge.

You wonder why you were ever crowned as the queen when girls like her exist. When girls like Heather and Chrissy exist.

You wonder why Steve ever even looked your way.

You look down at yourself, your uniform is perfectly ironed, your skin is soft and glowing after scrubbing and lathering it in moisturizer earlier this morning. You reach for the mirror in your bag, wanting to check on your makeup, one more time before the photoshooting. Your hair looks good, your make up looks good and yet, you still don’t like the way you look.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful.”

The frown on your face disappears when you hear his voice. Looking over your shoulder, you see Eddie leaning against the doorframe. He is eying you with a smile on his face. He ignores all the nasty looks from the other cheerleaders before they continue getting ready for the little photo session with Jonathan – who is getting just as many nasty looks as Eddie does.

You put the little mirror down and walk over to him, smoothing down your skirt as you take in the sight of him. He was forced to leave his leather jacket at home and he had already been whining about it since the early morning hours. Clad in his favorite jeans and a metallica shirt, you can’t help but miss the leather on his skin – it’s his staple piece but, it’s the end of May, much to Eddie’s dismay it’s too warm to walk around with vests and jackets.

You like seeing his tattoos though and his hair in ponytail or a bun when it does get a little too warm.

“Hi,” you say, giving him a sweet smile as you halt in front of him.

He smiles down at you, tapping your nose, “hey sweetheart.”

“Wanna join the photo session?” You joke, gesturing to the girls who are still getting ready as Jonathan is setting up his tripod and his camera.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “give me a uniform and I’m in.”

Giggling, you shake your head, “your butt would look cute in a cheer skirt.”

“Oh, not as cute as yours,” he winks, grinning at you when you look away with a blush on your cheeks.

“Are you enjoying the last day as the cheer captain?”

“You have no idea how much I wanna get rid of that title,” you laugh, “I’m ready to give that position up to Chrissy.”

You haven’t been loving cheerleading as much as you used to. Things changed, especially this year.

“I’m ready to get the hell out of here.”

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

“You know, I always thought that I’d go to college after high school,” you say as you look around the room, “but now, I’m just lost. I wouldn’t even know what to major in if I did go to college a-and I don’t even know what college I’d go to – and why am I even stressing about it, it’s too late for that now–”

Eddie places his hands on your shoulders, “I thought we settled on not stressing about our future anymore.”

“Yeah but–”

“No buts,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re taking a gap year, you still got your job at the record store and I’ll work at the garage, we’ll save up some money this summer and then–”

“And then we’ll go on that road trip.”

“Exactly,” he smiles, “we’ve been planning it for weeks now, don’t let college ruin that.”

Your shoulders slump and you sigh, “I just, I hear all of them talking about college,” you pause, gesturing to the girls behind you, “a-and it makes me think that maybe it was a mistake not to apply to any.”

His eyes soften at the worry in your eyes, he shakes his head.

“I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

“It’s not?”

“No, you got all the time in the world to join all these boring people in the normal world,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “let’s live in our own world for a little longer,” he smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he fixes the bow in your ponytail.

“Our dreams will be crushed the moment we step into the real world, let’s not let that happen so soon.”

You eye his face and curl of his lips as he stares at you.

“Our own world,” you smile, nodding, “I think I like that more anyways.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Good,” you repeat after him, making him chuckle.

He tilts his head with a smile on his face, “did you do your make up differently?”

“Uh yeah, I did pink eye shadow today,” you chuckle, “I’m surprised you noticed it, guys usually don’t pay attention to these things.”

“I’m offended that you think I’m one of those guys,” he jokes, placing his hand on his chest, “I notice everything about you, sweetheart.”

He notices every slight change. A different hairstyle, new clothes, the new color of your lipstick, the slightest change in your behavior, your eating habits, your struggles. He notices it all.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” you smile but the look in your eyes isn’t genuine and it makes him frown.

“Not as gorgeous as Teresa.”

“Who the fuck is Teresa,” he mumbles in confusion.

You point to the cheerleader and Eddie follows your gaze. You watch him closely as he looks at the pretty cheerleader.

Does he think she’s gorgeous? Does he think she looks better than you? Does he think she looks sexy in her tight uniform? Does he think her boobs look good?

The reaction you expected never comes, he scrunches his face up and a look of distaste crosses his features.

“That bitch threw gum in my hair.”

A laugh tumbles from your lips, you cup your hand over your mouth when the others turn to look at you.

“That’s not funny, y/n!” Eddie frowns, though his eyes are filled with amusement, “Wayne had to cut a chunk of my hair because I couldn’t get it out.”

“Your poor hair!” You pout, reaching out to touch his curls.

Both you and Eddie are unaware of the new set of eyes watching the two of you.

Steve just left the coach’s office, passing by the gym when he heard your laughter, he couldn’t help but peek inside the open gym.

His eyes fall on you, right away.

It’s been a while since you had talked, though you had been more present in his life since the night before your birthday, you were still far from actually being back in his life. The only interactions the two of you have are the ones in the hallway or in classes, greeting one another and saying goodbye. That’s all but he wishes he would see more of you.

Things haven’t been easy in the past few weeks, he barely passed the exams, sleepless nights haunt him and his days usually consist of reading and trying to better his cooking skills – he has nothing else to do. He has no one to talk to, no one to hang out with, no one to be with, not even his parents.

He had never been more miserable than he is right now.

There you are, pressing yourself against Eddie as you play with his hair, looking happier than ever.

Eddie, who wraps his arm around your waist and looks down at you like you are the most precious thing in this world.

Steve’s eyes are filled with nothing but sadness. He doesn’t even have the power to feel jealous anymore.

“Hey Steve!”

Shit.

All eyes are now on him, including yours and Eddie’s.

Steve tears his eyes away from you and turns to look at Jonathan who is walking towards him with his camera. By the look in his eyes, Steve can tell that he wants to do anything but talk to him.

“Uh – it’s good that you’re here,” Jonathan mumbles, holding the camera up, “Principle Higgins asked for a picture of you and y/n.”

Steve’s brows furrow and confusion takes over his face, “me and y/n?” He asks, “why?”

Jonathan shrugs, refraining from rolling his eyes, “cause you’re the captain of the basketball team and she’s cheer captain.”

“Oh.”

Jonathan looks away from Steve, glancing in your direction, waving you over.

You look just as confused as Steve does but you make your way over to them nonetheless.

“Hi,” you mumble to Steve before your eyes find Jonathan who stands between you two, awkwardly.

“Hey,” Steve smiles at you.

“Principle Higgins wants a picture of you two together,” Jonathan explains to you, “cause you’re both Captains.”

You raise your brows, “uh okay,” you snort, “what does the cheer captain have to do with–”

“Don’t ask me, y/n,” Jonathan chuckles as he motions for you both to follow him, “I’m just as confused.”

“That’s weird,” you mumble, glancing at Steve who’s awfully quiet.

“Let’s do it in front of the banners,” Jonathan looks over his shoulder, giving you a small smile but avoiding Steve’s eyes – you notice it.

Does he feel guilty about kissing his girlfriend? You saw them together yesterday, Nancy and Jonathan. They didn’t even bother to hide their affection. They kissed in the parking lot in front of everyone to see. All they got were a few weird looks, no one seemed to pay much attention to them – no one except for you. You stood frozen in place, a mix of confusion and anger rushing through you.

Despite the things that Steve had done to you, he still didn’t deserve that.

You didn’t know whether you should tell him or not, by the sullen look in his eyes, you can tell that he already knows.

“Alright, just uh–” Jonathan waves his hand at you and Steve, looking around awkwardly, “scoot a little closer.”

You don’t have to look around the gym to see all the eyes on you, you can feel them and you can hear the hushed whispers.

Steve ignores them but he can’t help but take a look at Eddie who is still standing in the same spot as before. He watches you.

You step closer to Steve, when he lifts his arm up for you. You place your hand on his back and he places his hand on your waist. Steve looks away from Eddie when the latter looks down.

Jonathan looks through his camera, squinting his eyes as he motions with his hand, “a little closer, y/n.”

Steve feels your body closer against his, your hand slides down to his waist, your touch fills him with a warmth that he hasn’t felt in a long time, it makes his heart beat a little faster, it fills him with life.

If a simple touch of your hand can make him feel such things, he wonders what a kiss from you would cause.

For a moment, he forgets about his surroundings and what he is supposed to be doing. The sound of chatter, whispers and giggles fly by him. His attention is on you and he basks in the feeling of being so close to you, of feeling your touch, of being able to look at you – not from afar but from such a close distance.

After a few snaps, Jonathan pulls back to look at the pictures he just took, he furrows his brows and glances up at the two of you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, not pulling away from Steve just yet, “do I look okay?”

Jonathan huffs with a soft chuckle, “yeah, you look good but uh, Steve? You’re supposed to look into the camera,” he says awkwardly.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you look up to see him staring at you – now with a blush on his cheeks. Oh. He wasn’t looking into the camera because he was too busy looking at you.

He closes his eyes, furrowing his brows, “right.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself – a flustered Steve is not something you will ever get used to.

“Alright,” Jonathan mumbles after snapping a few more pictures, “I got it now.”

He looks up from his camera, giving Steve a tight lipped smile, “thanks Steve, you can go now,” he says before he steps away himself.

You feel the hesitation in his touch before he lets go of you, stepping away slowly.

“Alright uh, I’m gonna,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he points to the entrance.

“Yeah,” you whisper but you hesitate as well and you find yourself looking into his eyes again.

The sadness has taken over.

You know that he knows about Nancy and Jonathan.

Why is he still with her?

Why is he still with her after everything he said to you?

Why is he still with her when she is seeing someone else?

He gives you a halfhearted smile before he turns away but you stop him, reaching for his hand before he can take the first step away from you. You grip it tightly, unaware of the feeling in his heart that you had caused with yet another simple touch.

He looks down at your hand only to notice another, new ring adorning your hand. A skull ring on your ring finger – he doesn’t know why such a small item can cause him so much despair. He doesn’t have to ask to know where or who you had gotten it from.

“Are you okay?”

The softness in your voice matches the one in your eyes, it makes him want to cry.

How could he ever be okay without you in his life?

Now that he had finally dropped the act and let go of a fake love, he had nothing to hold onto anymore.

He lost his best friend, he lost the love of his life, he lost the one. All because he was an insecure coward.

The past few weeks have shown him how much he had truly ruined, how alone he really is without you in his life.

He needed to lose you to realize that you are all he ever wanted.

He doesn’t need a bunch of friends who don’t even care about him nor does he need girls chasing after him or the popularity that he no longer has or even wants.

You, he only wants you.

But he won’t fight for someone who he doesn’t deserve to have.

You look at him with worry in your eyes as you wait for him to answer your question.

No. No, he is not okay.

He has never felt more lost in his life than he does at this moment.

The emptiness in his chest is eating at him and he doesn’t know how to keep going when every day feels like hell.

Every night he stares at the bottles of expensive whiskey in his dad’s office, contemplating whether or not he should just drink until he no longer feels anything. Deep down he knows that the whiskey would just make everything so much worse.

Maybe it would lead him back to you, maybe it would lead him to the phone on his nightstand, maybe he would make the mistake of calling or even seeing you only to beg for another chance – which would only end in heartbreak.

You won’t take him back.

Steve will forever hate himself for losing you.

“Yeah,” he says, forcing a smile on his face, “I’m okay.”

And for a moment, it isn’t a lie. For a moment, he does feel okay when he still feels your hand in his, when he sees the worry and the softness in your beautiful eyes and the necklace around your neck, the locket that he gave you. You are wearing it. And that alone is enough for his heart to flutter and for the emptiness in his chest to disappear – even if only temporary.

He avoids your eyes and that proves to you that he isn’t okay but just like he never pressured you, you don’t do it either.

“A-Are you going to college?” You ask, not wanting him to go so soon.

Your question surprises him, it��s been a long time since you had initiated a conversation.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem really appealing to me.”

“But you wanted to go to college, Steve.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head with a small chuckle.

“That uh, that was our dream. I only wanted to go to college with you.”

His hand is still in yours, his sad eyes are still gazing into yours.

“You wanted to go to college with me?” Your eyes widen when he nods, “for me?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so,” he trails off as he watches the way sadness crosses your features.

Your heart jumps at his words.

“That’s uh, that’s funny,” you laugh, “cause I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so I always told you that I had this huge college dream when I never even knew what I actually wanted.”

Steve’s brows furrow and his eyes fill with confusion but also with amusement.

“Really?” He chuckles.

“Yeah.”

His eyes crinkle and his smile widens.

“Wow. We would’ve gone to college together not knowing that it’s something neither of us wanted,” he says, “unless it’s something that you want now?”

“Oh no,” you mumble, “I-I’m not going to college. For now, I’m stuck at the record store which is actually being moved to Starcourt soon.”

His eyes light up.

“Oh, the record store is being moved?”

“Yeah!”

“I guess we’ll keep seeing each other then.”

While the thought leaves him with excitement, it must leave you with annoyance – at least that’s what he thinks.

The look on your face is puzzled.

“I got a job at the ice cream parlor,” he clears his throat, “Scoops Ahoy.”

Suddenly, he feels embarrassed and his cheeks heat up. You used to date a king, a popular guy, the captain of the basketball team with his apparent bright athlete future.

And now he is just Steve Harrington who barely got his diploma, who threw his athlete future down the drain to work at an ice cream parlor. How humiliating.

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen, “no way! Scoops Ahoy?”

“Yeah..”

“Oh my god!” You giggle excitedly. “I’ll be your regular.”

Steve can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm.

“You did love your ice cream.”

“Yeah, I still do.”

You are still smiling at him and he can’t help but smile back at you. This almost feels like a dream – standing here with your hand still in his, laughing and smiling with you like the past no longer matters.

“Y/n!” Chrissy calls for you.

You tear your eyes away from his and glance over his shoulder.

Chrissy motions for you to join her and the other cheerleaders – who are all trying to hide the fact that they were just staring at you and Steve.

“Come on!” She says as she glares at Steve’s back.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Steve’s face falls, though his smile still lingers when you look back at him. You remove your hand from his.

“So uh, I guess I’ll see you around?”

He nods, “yeah,” he mumbles.

You step away from him but this time, he stops you. With a hand on your wrist and your name falling from his lips, he makes you halt in your tracks.

You look back at him with raised brows.

His soft eyes make your heart race, his touch makes you feel warm.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He knows you don’t believe it, you never did, no matter how many times he told you these words, you never believed them.

“The locket looks good on you,” he smiles.

You place your other hand on your chest, touching the locket, “thanks, I love it.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, watching the interaction between you and Steve. Annoyed at the affection and the smiles you are giving him, she forces herself to look away.

Steve always finds a way to sneak his way back into your life. He doesn’t deserve you, not after everything that happened.

She knows that you might never stop loving him but she hopes that your love for him won’t stop you from letting another one in. She narrows her eyes, glancing at the metalhead who is still standing by the door, watching you with an intense look on his face, one that can only be described as jealousy.

It’s the same look you always wore when you saw Steve with other girls.

She sighs, shaking her head.

Chrissy might not be a close friend of Eddie’s but she knows that his feelings for you are nowhere near platonic and she knows that what you are feeling might be deeper than that too, though you are still oblivious, too focused on your feelings for your ex boyfriend.

She hopes that you will let go of them someday.

The first big summer storm hits the town of Hawkins on a Friday afternoon. The rain is falling down harshly from the sky, the wind is howling through the trees, the bright lighting lights up the darkened sky every few seconds as the thunder crashes loudly.

The streets are empty as the water flushes down the road.

Of course you had to come to the library today.

You should’ve come here tomorrow, you should’ve stayed home.

You tried to leave the library when the storm just started but the librarian, an elderly woman named Margaret, refused to let you leave. She forced a book into your hand and told you to take a seat by the window.

She didn’t even let you put up a fight. She offered you a cup of coffee and told you to wait out the storm.

It’s been an hour but the storm is still raging and you are becoming restless. You hate being stuck in public places.

You take the book that she gave you and leave the table, giving her a tight lipped smile as you pass by the counter.

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to sneak out,” you whisper to her when she gives you a pointed look.

“You better not, young lady,” she says with a mean voice but her eyes are kind.

You chuckle at her, flashing her a smile before you disappear into the aisle where the shelves are filled with nothing but dramatic romances and sad love stories – your favorites.

The smell of paper and coffee, the sound of rain and thunder fills you with a nostalgic feeling. You love these types of afternoons, sitting down with a book you love, listening to the rain paddling down the windows after you light up your favorite candle and drinking a hot cup of coffee – too bad you did not stay at home, you could have done just that.

As you walk down the aisle and you trace the books, trying to find one that calls for you, you don’t find a story that you would love to read, instead, you find the girl that has been the cause of a lot of pain in your life.

You halt in your tracks when you find her sitting in the little nook by the window. A large book resting on her lap.

You don’t know why you freeze, why you don’t just walk away, why you keep standing there like a fool as you stare at the girl that stole your boyfriend – ex boyfriend.

She glances up from her book when she feels your eyes on her.

For a moment, she freezes too and stares back at you.

What are you doing? Just walk away. The angel on your shoulder whispers, trying to save you from the awkwardness of this situation.

No. Confront her. Tell her what you saw.

You were never one to let the devil win. You were always a good, obedient girl. Always listening to the things the good ones whispered to you. Always doing what you were supposed to do. Always being kind and sweet to everyone around you. Always doing the right thing.

Maybe that is where you went wrong, by doing the apparent right things.

But you never did what you wanted to do.

So you let the devil for once – or maybe the devil is actually the angel and the angel that has been whispering all these discouraging words to you, is actually the devil in disguise, waiting for you to fail, changing your mind about the things that you want.

“Can I help you?” Nancy asks slowly.

You notice that her hair is shorter than it used to be, a few of her curls fall from the clip that is holding her hair together.

“No,” you shake your head.

She furrows her brows when you make your way over to her.

“But there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” She asks, pointing between the two of you.

Surprised that you want to talk to her now.

You nod.

Nancy can’t help but feel nervous. Despite her dislike for you, she is aware of her wrongs. You have every right to be angry at her – if you are angry at her.

“I saw you with Jonathan.”

She tilts her head, eyes straying from you. She looks confused.

“What?”

You cross your arms over your chest, the bracelet around your wrist slides down a little.

“I saw you kissing him.”

“So?”

Now you feel the anger rushing through you.

Does she not feel ashamed?

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I should be the last person to care about this but I still care about him,” you start as you stare into her confused eyes, “what are you doing is disgusting.”

Nancy begins to understand a little but a part of her still leaves her with a big question mark.

“I shouldn’t be defending him but I know that he is a good person, despite everything,” you murmur the last part with an eye roll, “and I know that he is good to you.”

Nancy straightens her back, she pushes the book off of her lap and holds her hands up, “okay, uh I’m a little confused.”

“Oh, you’re confused?” You mumble, trying to keep your voice down, “you’re confused about the fact that you are cheating – openly?”

Technically, you are not wrong. She did cheat but not anymore.

“I’m not cheating,” she mumbles, “we’re not together anymore.”

Silence fills the space between the two of you. The only sound you both hear is the thunder and the rain outside before you speak up after a long pause.

“What?” You ask and Nancy realizes that you don’t know.

How do you not know about the break up?

How do you not know that he left her?

She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest, mimicking your pose.

“Steve broke up with me.”

You are stunned. These news are something you did not expect.

“A few weeks ago, actually,” she explains, “when he came back from you.”

Oh.

He broke up with her, the night before your birthday, after seeing you.

“I’m not cheating on Steve. Jonathan and I, we’re together.”

So, the rumors were true, after all.

They broke up – he broke up with her.

“Oh.”

Nancy looks you up and down. There you stand, wide eyed, confused and definitely unaware of the break up that happened so long ago.

“You didn’t… know?”

You shake your head and you lean your body against the shelf behind you.

“No, I-I didn’t know.”

You had almost forgotten about the raging storm when a bolt of lightning strikes through the sky and the lights in the library flicker for a few seconds.

You draw in a long sharp breath and look down.

Why didn’t he tell you? You wonder.

Nancy asks herself the same thing. Why did Steve not tell you about the break up? Why didn’t he call you the way he called her after he broke up with you?

The two of you stand in front of each other, shocked.

And as Nancy takes a closer look at you, as she sees the slight frown, the look in your eyes, the tension in your shoulders, the hand over your heart. She knows. She knows that there is still something.

You are still processing the news, she can tell by the way your eyes flicker back and forth as though you are trying to piece something together.

“Wait so.. you heard the rumors and you didn’t… think they were true?”

Your hair falls in front of your face when you lift your head, you don’t bother to push it away.

“I– well, I…I saw you two together a lot, so, it was hard to believe the rumors.. you know?”

Nancy nods in understanding.

“I get it… Then, the rumors with Eddie are not true?”

For a moment, you think about her question before you turn your head to look at her with a frown.

“The one I’m pregnant? The one where he sacrificed a lamb to get my undying love and devotion? The one where I cheated on Steve? Which one of them all?”

Nancy’s eyes widen.

She can’t help but snort at all those rumors. Shaking her head with an amused smile, she looks down with furrowed brows, “trust me, even I know Munson looks scary but probably is a fan of Garfield or something,” she chuckles.

A smile tugs at your lips.

“He does have Garfield pajamas.”

She looks at you with a stunned expression before you both burst into giggles.

Nancy shakes her head again as the smile fades away.

“And no, not the pregnant one either.. Jesus,” she sighs. Her eyes find your body again, she looks you up and down with a look that you cannot read.

Suddenly, you feel self conscious again. You feel the urge to wrap your arms around your waist, wanting to hide your body.

But her words aren’t ones that you expected.

“If you’re pregnant with a body like that, is the baby like smushed to the very back?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Your eyes widen at her words and you restrain yourself from gasping or holding your hand in front of your mouth or your stomach.

Nancy had spent so much time feeling jealous of you, of what you had – because at one point, she thought that you had everything. Beauty, popularity, friends and a guy who was hopelessly in love with you. You had it all and when she got a taste of what you had, she wanted it. She wanted him. She painted a false picture of you in her head, to make herself feel better about stealing from you.

Though, the false picture in her head didn’t stay for long, it started crumbling the moment she walked into the girls bathroom to hear you crying. She knew it was you, the backpack that laid on the ground had a pin of The Cure on the front, one that only you had.

After that, she began to pay attention to you.

She saw the way you looked at Steve, weeks, months after he left you.

She saw the sadness, the heartbreak, the pain in your eyes and the love that never left.

She saw the way you looked at the other girls and the way you looked at yourself. The way you stayed in the locker room, a little longer than the other girls.

The way you looked at her and compared yourself to her.

All because of him.

“Y-You look amazing is what I’m trying to say,” Nancy says nervously.

A flush creeps up to your face as you gape at her.

To hear it from Steve or even Eddie is one thing, to hear it from a girl who bashed on you, who belittled you is a whole other thing. It feels.. good.

“T-Thank you..”

Nancy clears her throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Desperately wanting to kill the awkward tension, she goes back to your previous question.

“No… The one where you and Eddie are dating.”

It takes you a moment to realize what she means. Your mouth falls open and recognition dawns your face.

“No, it’s not true either. None of them are,” you brows knit together, “wait, why did you think it was true?”

There’s amusement in her features as she takes in the sight of your confused face. She shrugs, “you’re always clinging to one another, and you guys literally kiss on the cheek! Like, who does that to a friend? And– you sit on his lap! It’s hard not to think you two have something going on!”

You press your hands together, laughing awkwardly, “uh, well, that’s how best friends interact,” you say these words with a twinge of pain in your chest but you don’t understand it, the reasoning behind the pain is unclear to you.

“Trust me, that’s not how best friends interact with each other – or look at each other,” she adds quietly.

“L-Like what?”

She stares at you in amusement, albeit a little bewildered.

“You’re a little oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious to what?”

She looks away from you with a small smile, glancing out the window, she pretends to be surprised, “oh, it looks like the storm finally stopped!” She points out.

The storm had indeed stopped, though the one inside of you, has just begun.

Nancy reaches for the book on the nook. She grabs her bag and turns back to you, “I gotta go home. Jonathan and my mom must be worried.”

You follow her with your eyes, staring at her desperately.

She looks over her shoulder after passing by you, “one piece of advice? Pay attention.”

And with that, Nancy Wheeler leaves you standing in the empty aisle.

“What?”

next chapter

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things angst #Steve x reader x Eddie

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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

Text

Chapter 12- I Love You. I Know.

Summary: As the end of October approaches, you and Javi learn more about celebrating Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos together. After a sleepless night, and a Halloween party at the Murphy's, Javi begins to open up to you about his past.

Word Count: 15.6K (I'm sweating)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, semi-public sex (Oh the poor Murphy's...), PTSD/Anxiety around grief, loss and Javi's past, some angst/tension, mentions of drinking/being drunk (Steve is getting PLASTERED), mentions of food/eating, SO MANY STAR WARS REFERENCES, literally this chapter made me sob while I was writing it, editing it, and re-reading it, I am SO sorry

A/N: You guys. Holy shit. This chapter really had me in my feels. This chapter was def a labor of love, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! Thank you for as always for all you kind words, you truly, truly, TRULY have no idea how much your support means to me 😭💖 Also please don't kill me after you finish reading this chapter I PROMISE *things* are happening so soon I can literally taste it, but I needed for this chapter to happen first, and you would be silly to think that *things* didn't get its own whole ass chapter and I am just as excited as you AH

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The excitement of October’s conclusion was in the air, and the joys of getting to celebrate what you hoped would be the first of many holidays with Javi was at the forefront of your mind. While the end of summer meant school was here and your carefree days were gone until next June, October meant it was time for one of your favorite holidays- Halloween. It was one of your most cherished things to celebrate as a kid, and even still as an adult. The memories of jumping into leaf piles off your swingset with your brothers, dressing up in goofy, homemade costumes to trick-or-treat (because your mom was not about to buy 4 new sets of costumes every single year), carving pumpkins, and stealing as many of your brother’s Kit Kat bars as you could without getting caught, filled your heart with a warmth and joy that you couldn’t quite describe. While the 80 degree temperatures and lack of bright reds and yellows painted across the leaves falling from their trees was much different from the Chicago Octobers you were accustomed to, it hadn’t stopped you from heading full steam into Halloween.

“So do you have any thoughts on what we should be for Steve and Connie’s? I have no problem going out to buy stuff for costumes, but I can already hear my mom yelling at me for wasting my money on cheaply made clothes I’m gonna wear for 5 hours when I have something perfectly good in my closet.” You rolled your eyes as you shuffled through the hangers, Javi sitting on the edge of your bed folding the laundry you were working on putting away.

The two of you had gladly accepted the invitation from Steve and Connie to spend the weekend with them in San Antonio, as the Murphy’s planned to host a Halloween party at their house for their friends and co-workers, giving you and Javi a chance to have a fun weekend out of town together.

“Hmmmm?” He asked, looking up at you as you grabbed a few shirts, examining them for costume potential. “We’re dressing up for this thing?”

“Yeah, that’s like, the whole point of Halloween, dummy.” You giggled, throwing a few options on the floor before making your way over to your pants. “Didn’t you dress up as a kid for Halloween?”

Unlike yourself, Javi had spent his whole life celebrating Día de los Muertos, Halloween having nowhere near as much relevance to him as it did to you, spending the end of October and first days of November gathering with his family to spend the day making Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead sweet bread), watching the parades on the streets of Downtown Laredo before visiting the cemetery where his grandparents were buried, decorating their graves in cempasúchil (marigold flowers), candles and photographs with his primos (cousins). Since his mom had passed, Javi hadn’t been home to celebrate with his family, and had almost forgone the tradition completely during his time in Colombia, the pain and loss of his mother and the solemn sadness of celebrating alone leading him to try his best to forget about the holiday all together.

“Uh, no, not, not really. Didn’t really do Halloween, isn’t really as much of a thing down here. My family always celebrated Día de Los Muertos instead.” He replied, almost embarrassed by his answer, not wanting to damper your excitement as you dug through your closet for costumes.

Your heart sank to your stomach, feeling awful that you hadn’t even taken into consideration that Javi's traditions around this time of year were completely different from what you were used to. The two of you had never really talked about how you wanted to celebrate future holidays, and always had wanted to make sure that the important parts of your lives were celebrated equally. Javi hadn’t said anything after you had spent the past few days putting up Halloween decorations around your apartment, and now you felt like an idiot assuming he had spent his whole life celebrating just like you.

“Oh… Shit. Javi, I’m so sorry, if you don’t wanna do costumes, we don’t have to, you just hadn’t said anything about Día de Los Muertos so I just assumed that-”

“Baby, it’s okay.” He pushed himself up off the bed, the width of his broad palms wrapping around your hips, trying to ease the guilt he could tell was rapidly consuming you. “You’re right, I never told you about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to celebrate it, and I haven’t been home for it since I’ve gotten back from Colombia. I just- I don’t really know how to feel about it, I guess. The last time I did anything for it was before my mom died. I was never able to bring myself to do anything about it while I was gone, and I guess now I just feel really shitty that was the way I decided to handle it.” It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, pulling yourself closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, leaning your head against his chest. It was then, the realization had hit you too- This would be your first year of holidays without Patrick. You didn’t know as much as you would have liked to about Día de Los Muertos, but you did know that it was to celebrate the lives of loved ones you’d lost, a feeling that you and Javi were both all too familiar with.

“Listen…” You raised your head, looking up at him, arms still intertwined around his waist. “I don’t- I don’t wanna make you do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I guess this is the first time we’ve ever really talked about this kind of stuff. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Jav, and that means celebrating the things that are special to both of us. The things that are important to you are important to me too. I want our lives for us, for our future family, to be filled with all the things we care the most about, whether that means keeping old traditions or making our own new ones. It would mean a lot to me to get to celebrate Día de los Muertos with you, and if it’s okay, I would love to sprinkle in some Halloween too, because I’m fucking dying to carve a pumpkin.”

You smiled up at him as his hand slid under your jaw, his thumb tracing across your cheek as he tried his best to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It took everything in him to not ruin his plans, wanting to run into the bedroom, grab the ring out of his sock drawer and propose to you that very instant. Even after all this time, Javi still couldn't believe that he was the person you wanted to share the rest of your life with. That you wanted to intertwine your past, present, and future with his, to have a life, a family, together that the two of you could cherish forever. Never in a million years had he assumed he’d be anywhere close to where he was today, holding the world’s most beautiful, perfect woman in his arms, as she told him how she wanted nothing more than to build a family and spend the rest of her days with him.

“Osita… I fucking love you so much, you know that?” He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and deep kiss, your heart racing as he pulled you in tighter.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, just a little bit…” You giggled, poking fun at him, considering not a day had passed since the first night he had said it that Javi hadn’t told you just how much he loved you.

“Shut up, you dork.” He chuckled, making you squeal as he picked you up, playfully shaking you in his grasp before setting you back down. “I’d love nothing more, Hermosa. I don’t know how the fuck you’re supposed to carve a pumpkin or what the hell you have planned for these costumes, but I’m all in. I want it all with you, Osita. Thank you.”

“Of course. For as much or as little as you want to do for Día de los Muertos, I’m all in too. I’m gonna be honest, I love Hallowen. Not as much as Christmas, but it’s a close second. It means you’re gonna have to trust me with a giant ass knife and cover yourself in pumpkin guts, though.”

“My trust is quickly starting to fade. Seriously though, what the hell are we supposed to dress up as?” He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding over to the pile of clothes you had pulled from your closet, now piled on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas.”

The weeks leading up to the holidays had made for fun at home date nights, the both of you genuinely looking forward to learning about the traditions you had both held so dear to your hearts. Almost every night after work, you had done something to celebrate the events leading up to the day. You had shown Javi a few of your favorite Halloween movies, including It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Beetlejuice, and Ghostbusters, very adamantly insisting to him that those movies were about as scary as you were going to get, blaming your brothers for scarring you after forcing you to watch The Exorcist at the ripe age of 7 years old. In addition to the movies, you had told him about other funny Trick-Or-Treating stories from your childhood, Javi’s favorite being how your brothers, (being the ruthless idiots they were) paid one of their friends in all of their halloween candy to jump out of a bush dressed as a terrifying old lady to scare the absolute shit out of you, and making you quite literally pee your pants. In return Javi shared his favorite memories of cooking in the kitchen with his mom as she made Pan de Muertos for his family, the two of you even attempting to make it one of the nights after work, milling about the kitchen together as Javi told you about his family you had yet to meet, or had passed away long before you.

After a lengthy hunt, you were able to find pumpkins, bringing them to Chucho’s house to carve them since you had nowhere to put them inside your apartment. You offered him the rest of your Pan de Muertos in exchange for a place to work on your pumpkins, and while he gladly accepted the bread, the three of you knew Chucho was always happy to have you and Javi over, regardless.

“So tell me, mija,” Chucho spoke in between mouthfuls of sweet bread, rocking back and forth in his chair, “is there a meaning behind carving the pumpkins, or is it just for fun?”

“Just for fun! Okay, it looks like we’re ready, you want me to show you how to do it, or just let you go for it?” You smiled at Javi, the two of you sitting cross legged on Chucho’s porch, pumpkins open in front of you.

“You just scoop them out, right?” Javi questioned, looking into the pumpkin with an unsure grimace. “It seems like there's a lot in here, Osita. I have to get all of it out?”

“Yeah, or else you can’t see the design when you carve it. C’mon you big baby, just stick your hand in there and pull the guts out!” You laughed, digging your hand into your pumpkin, scooping out hearty globs of pumpkin guts, slopping them into the bucket Chucho had set out for you. Reluctantly, Javi joined, you and Chucho both absolutely dying at Javi’s face as his hand met the squishy fibers inside his pumpkin.

“Jesus, that feels fucking gross!” He laughed, shaking his head as he threw some of the seeds and strings into the trash next to him.

“You need me to do it for you?” You giggled, flicking a pumpkin seed at him as he winced with the second handful he pulled out.

“No, cabrón (asshole), I can do it.” Javi grumbled as he rolled his eyes at you, the both of you scooping hearty handfuls of goop.

“You hear that, Chucho? Calling me an asshole because he’s too scared to pull out pumpkin guts.” You looked back at his dad, giving him a playful grin, his smile already wide from the enjoyment of watching the two of you. With your back turned to Javi, you hadn’t noticed the small handful of seeds he had collected in his hand, lining up his arm to aim right at the back of your head. “I can’t believe that- HEY!” You whipped your neck around, running your hand over the back of your neck, picking seeds and strings out of your hair, seeing Javi snicker to himself as your jaw dropped open in shock. “Did you seriously just throw pumpkin guts at me?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, must have been a ghost.” He shrugged, smirking to himself before digging his hand back into his pumpkin.

“You see this?!” You looked back at Chucho, pointing your finger at Javi, pretending to be stern, although your laughter quickly escaped. “Absolutely ridiculous, I swear.”

“Javier, that is no way to treat your future esposa! (Wife) No quiero mis nietos ser cubierto en calabaza! Me encantáran en cualquier caso, pero todavía! (I don’t want my future grandchildren covered in pumpkin! I will love them either way, but still!)” Chucho scolded with a smirk, you and Javi silently smiling to each other at the thought of one day doing this with your own children. Javi had tried to stop fighting off his dad’s comments about grandkids a while ago- Chucho knew just as well as the two of you that he would have his grandchildren soon enough.

“Ella lo pído… (She asked for it…)” Javi muttered under his breath, shooting his gaze up at you as he felt cold goop hit the side of his cheek, wiping the pumpkin you had just thrown at him off with the back of his hand, watching you smirk silently to yourself as you continued to scoop out your pumpkin.

“Ahora… Estamos a mano. (And now… We’re even.)”

The 3 of you chatted on the porch, the sky now painted a dark black, filled with twinkling constellations above as you finished carving your pumpkins. Yours, a cute ghost with a little smiley face, and Javi’s, what he had tried to convince you and Chucho was also a ghost, even though it looked more like he had just carved a squiggly hole in the middle of his. It took a little prodding and convincing, but as you all talked about how the Peña family had spent many a Día de los Muertos, you and Chucho were able to get Javi to agree to go visit his mom’s gravesite on the Sunday after you got back from Steve and Connie’s party. Chucho had even promised to keep his tias, tios, and primos (aunts, uncles, and cousins) completely out of the picture this year, wanting to give Javi all the time and space he needed to go see his mom for the first time since her funeral. He was reluctant at first, riddled with the guilt of leaving her unvisited all these years, but as he felt the gentle squeeze of your hand, your silent reassurance was all he needed to know that you would be by his side, every step of the way. As you said your goodbyes, Chucho hugged you just a little extra tighter than normal, as if to thank you for everything you had done for his son, and just how thankful he was to have you in his life, too.

Even though the Murphy’s had very graciously offered to let you and Javi stay on Friday night as well as Saturday, both Steve and Connie very much understood when you had told them on the phone that the only thing that you wanted to do after coming home from the chaos of managing an elementary school Halloween party was take a very, very long nap. You and Javi had spent the night ordering pizza and watching Young Frankenstein, only lasting about 20 minutes into the movie before you were dead asleep, snoring against Javi’s chest, still dressed in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie costume from earlier today. Carrying you to bed and undressing you from your mouse ears and oversized overalls, Javi curled into bed next to you, pulling your body against his as he stared at the ceiling. Despite how hard he tried to fall asleep, he laid there, wide awake as ever, as his head raced with the tornado of thoughts brewing inside his brain.

Javier Peña had never really considered himself to be an anxious person. For most of his life, he couldn’t be. For the sake of his job, the sake of his family after his Mom passed, Javi had survived the only way he had known how- Block it out, and ignore it. And so far, that strategy had seemed to bode for him pretty darn well. But that was before he had anyone who depended on him, cared about him, anyone who made his life worth living for. That was before he had met you. Now, Javi found himself at the crossroads of a moment he had been waiting for since the moment he had first laid eyes on you. Something that brought him absolute joy and sheer terror at the same time- Javier Peña was going to propose to you, and he was an anxious fucking mess.

If that in itself wasn’t enough, things at the Laredo County Sheriff's Department had been an absolute shit show. Mexico was the only thing on anyone’s radar, making for long days and high tension at the office, trying to do anything to slow the spread of the cartel’s influence across the border. Day after day, report after report, it felt like the department was drowning in the endless shitty news of new death tolls, record breaking trafficking stats, and lack of control as cocaine moved across the Rio Grande at a groundbreaking pace. Even though he found himself even further removed from Mexico than he ever was in Colombia, he couldn’t help but feel that painful, searing wrench in his gut when he sat down to really think about it.

You.

Spending your lives together.

Having a family.

Protecting his wife and kids.

The things he would do to keep you safe.

The terrible things he had done he had justified were keeping other people safe.

The imagines of the things he wish he could unsee.

The pain and hurt he wished he could take back.

The fear of what he was capable of doing.

So with a knot in his chest from work, a ring hidden away in his sock drawer, and the beginnings of a plan to ask the woman he loved more than life itself to marry him, Javi coped with the weight of his stress the only way he knew how. He couldn’t fucking sleep.

The thoughts played in his mind on repeat, torturing him with every loop around his brain. He tried his best to close his eyes, to empty his head for a moment of peace, but no matter how much he wished he could have willed himself to sleep, it was no use. By the time the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:05 AM, Javi had completely given up on the idea of rest for the night, quietly making his way out of bed to go wander around the living room. It wasn’t long before you too were also awake, rolling over in your sleep to find Javi’s space in the bed cold and empty. Rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up against your pillow, you scanned around the darkness of your room as you came to, realizing that Javi was nowhere to be found. Draping one of the blankets from your bed over you, you crept into the hallway, greeted by the soft light of one of the living room lamps painting shadows against the wall.

“Javi, are you up?” Your voice still soft and sleepy, rubbing your hand along your face, squinting from the sudden brightness that lit up the room.

“Osita, baby, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. Go back to bed, okay?” Javi shot up from the couch, setting down whatever book he had been half focused on reading as he watched your bed headed figure meander into the living room.

“No, it’s okay.” You grumbled, holding out your blanket covered arms for Javi to melt his body into yours, wrapping you in a tight hug. You pressed your head into the bare skin of his chest, snaking your hands around his waist as he planted his lips against the the top of your head, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Baby, what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep? I’m worried about you, Jav.”

“I’m… Yeah, I’m okay, Hermosa. Just a lot on my mind.” He sighed, his exhale still buried in your hair as he savored the smell of you, still lingering even in your sleepy state.

His pause alone was enough to know okay wasn’t the word that you would use to describe Javi right now. His words were burdened and fatigued, making it clear that whatever was on his mind was weighing on him more heavily than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure? Javi, if you wanna talk about anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

You wanted so desperately to pry. Everything in you had a feeling that whatever was keeping him up were entangled in the parts of his dark parts past, the last secrets holding up the final wall between the two of you. You knew from your brothers how hard it was to talk about the pain and suffering they had witnessed, and begging them to talk about it before they were ready only seemed to make it worse. Hell, after Patrick died, it felt like you didn’t sleep for weeks, and it had taken you months to open up about it. You knew Javi hurt, and as much as you wanted to, digging deeper into the things that plagued him in his restless nights wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now, he just needed someone to be there for him.

“Is there anything I can do, Javi? I just wanna help.” The breath of your sympathetic whispers were hot against Javi’s skin, squeezing your arms to pull him as close to you as he could. He paused for a moment, letting out another deep breath as cradled the back of your head with his palm, running his hands through your hair.

“Will- Will you stay up with me? Just a little bit longer?” His voice trembled as you turned your head to lock your eyes with his, the gentle nod of your head bringing him a moment of relief.

“Of course, baby. Of course I’ll stay up with you. Do you wanna turn on the TV or put on a movie? Sometimes that helps me sleep.” You stretched your arms over your head, scrunching your face as you yawned before tugging your blanket tighter around your body.

“Believe me, Hermosa, I know it does.” He let out a soft chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Oh shit, yeah that is true. I don’t even think I made it halfway through Young Frankenstein tonight, which is a crime. It’s such a good movie. I don’t even remember getting into bed.” You yawned again, this time taking one of your blanket covered fists to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake.

“Well, if you give a mouse pizza and a movie after a long day at school, then she’ll probably need her boyfriend to carry her to bed because she’s so tired.” Now awake enough, Javi’s cute jab at your costume for school made you let out a little giggle, giving him a little shove with your blanket wrapped body. “Why don’t we turn the rest of it on, so you can finish watching?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you, Javi.” You grumbled, pouting up at him, considering he had just asked you to stay awake with him.

“It’s okay. As long as I have you by me, I’ll be alright, I promise.” Reluctantly, you nodded in agreement, plopping yourself on the couch as Javi turned on the TV, rewinding the VHS tape to the point where you had fallen asleep earlier before joining you, draping his arm around your shoulder as you tucked in your knees and scooted closer to him. You sat for a few minutes in silence, letting the sounds of the movie fill the background. As you turned your head to look up at Javi, you could tell that even though his eyes were pointed at the screen, there was no way he was really watching the movie. Reaching up your hand, you ran your fingers across the length of his strong jaw, his stubble scratching against your palm, forcing him to look back at you. Your eyes met his, the sweet, chocolate brown looking back at you, with a confusing mix of exhaustion, guilt, want and helplessness. You brought your face closer to his, your lips now only inches apart as your whispers danced against his mouth, desperate to find something to ease his pain.

“What do you need, Javi? Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His tongue swept against his bottom lip, taking one last shaky breath before his words left his body with his exhale.

“You. I need you.”

His hands found their way to the bare skin of your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your flesh as he traced his way up to your torso, toying with the hem of one of his shirts that always looked so much better on you than him. Pressing his palm against the soft curves of your stomach, he tugged at the waistband of your sleep shorts, causing you to shift your body so he could slide them down your legs. Reaching over towards his lap, you grasped at his boxers, feeling him already half hard under the fabric as you rubbed your hand against him. Javi held your hips, slowly guiding you to straddle him as you kicked your shorts off your feet, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Slowly, you began to grind deeper into his lap, the feeling of him now fully hard beneath you. Gently prompting you to raise your arms over your head, Javi lifted your shirt, leaving you bare as he dropped it next to your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Javi rasped, pressing languid kisses against your neck and collarbone as you ran your hands against the width of his broad shoulders.

“Of course, baby.” Your reply low and horse as you began to drag the fabric of his boxers lower and lower, finally letting his cock spring free as his waistband pushed past. You brought your palm to your mouth, licking a long, wet strip across it before wrapping it around his length, thumbing over the precum already leaking from his tip. Javi tilted his head against the back of the couch as you twisted your wrist, stroking his cock, letting out a hushed moan before sitting back up to watch you.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. I don’t deserve you.” He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass, his sweet, brown eyes locked on yours as you pressed against him, nibbling at his ear.

“You deserve everything, Javi. I could give you everything in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Javi grasped at your face, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss, his voice shaky and lustful as his mouth parted with yours before he spoke.

“I don’t need anything besides you, Osita. Eres mi todo. Estás todo lo que necesito. (You are my everything. You’re all I’ll ever need.) He shuttered, letting out a low groan as you continued to rub your hand along his length, Javi now reaching down to trace lazy circles around your clit before dipping his fingers inside your wet heat. His fullness made you whimper, wrapping tighter around his cock as you stroked him, now bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers curled, bumping against the spongy spot that made you lose control. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so wet.

“Mhmmmmm.” You gasped, rapidly nodding your head as his digits pulsed inside you, your cunt already drenched, desperate to feel the fullness of his dick, despite the thickness of his fingers. Carefully, you lifted your hips, moving yourself closer to him as you ran your fingers through the soft ends of his sleepy curls. Sitting up on your knees, Javi removed his hand as he watched you hover over him, his palms roaming to your hips as you guided his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before lining him up with your entrance. His jaw went slack as you lowered down on to him, taking your time as you savored the stretch of every sweet inch until you had bottomed out at his base.

“Fuckkk, baby.” He mewled, gently guiding his hands against your hips as you dragged yourself up along his length before headfully sinking back down, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix with each movement. Javi nipped at your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone before stopping at your breasts, flicking this tongue along each of your pebbled nipples as you pushed deeper into his lap, whimpering at his touch. “My sweet girl, always taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me, baby. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Javi pulled you in tighter, caging his chest against yours as his arms wrapped around the small of your back as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” His words were desperate and needy against your bare skin, digging your fingers into his dark curls as you swirled your hips around his cock.

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.” You moaned as felt Javi shift his weight, thrusting upwards as he buried himself deep inside you. His fullness had you digging your nails into the nape of his neck, your body melting into his with each push and pull against each other. You could feel the all too familiar tingle creeping up your legs and through the base of your spine as Javi’s hand found its way to circle around your clit, already throbbing as the curled hair around his base brushed against your sensitive nerves. The lewd noises of your moans and tangled bodies drowned out the sounds of the TV behind you, practically hearing how wet you were as Javi cock slipped in and out of your heat, his pace pounding as he punched into you. You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, arousal pooling in your belly, Javi knowing you were close as you whimpered into the crook of his neck. “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Cum for me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Javi’s fingers rubbed faster along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone.

“Javi, Javi- fuck- Javi, Jav-ahhhhhh.” You could feel yourself gush around him, crying out his name as you reached your high, your legs shaking and fingers digging into his skin, pleasure flowing through your veins.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too, fuck myself so deep inside you. My perfect girl. Mierda- Quiero que seas mío para siempre, mi amor. Solo tú, por siempre y para siempre. (Shit- I want you to be mine forever, my love. Only you, forever and always). Fuck me, I- fuckkkk.” Javi hissed as he buried himself deep in your hilt, spilling every drop of his spend against your walls. You could feel the mixture of the both of you dripping down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap as you slumped into his body, your heart racing as the damp curls of his hair pressed against your shoulder. You both sat there for a moment, letting your chests rise and fall together in sync as you came to. “Fuck me, Osita. I could stay like this forever, baby.”

“You and me both. Although, I feel like that would make things awfully inconvenient for the both of us.” Your soft, sleepy giggles making Javi smile as he ran his fingers though the twisted ends of your hair. Carefully, you lifted yourself up, hissing at the loss of Javi inside you.

“Thank you, Osita.” Javi whispered, tenderly circling his thumb along your jaw as you curled up next to him.

“For what?”

“Just- fuck, you’re so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So, I just- thank you. Thank you for being everything I need.” Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, Javi pulled you tighter, holding you in his arms as you leaned against him.

“I’ll always be here for you, Javi. I promise.”

You hoped he knew. That he knew your words were true. That when the time came for him to open up to you, letting you into the painful past that loomed above him, that you wouldn’t run. You would be right by his side, just as you were right now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Javi chuckled as you twisted in the passenger seat, stretching your arms over your head, scrunching your face, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“Fuck, how long was I asleep for? How much longer do we have left? Sorry, I wasn’t planning on sleeping that long, I just wanted to take a nap for a little while we drove.” You ran your hands over your face, looking out at the bright Texas sun shining over the neat suburban neighborhood you now found yourself driving through. Javi reached over across the center console, rubbing his hand along your thigh as he chuckled to himself.

“Baby, I knew from the moment you fell asleep you were gonna be out for the rest of the drive, it’s okay. I was just worried I was gonna have to wake you up in the Murphy’s driveway.” You grumbled as you looked over at Javi, giving him a playful swat against his arm, shaking your head, now emerging from your post nap fog.

“Well if we weren't up fucking at 2:30 in the morning, perhaps I wouldn’t be so tired, hmmmm?”

Javi rolled his eyes as you poked fun at how the both of you had found yourselves last night, trying to ease Javi’s sleeplessness. While your solution had worked enough to ease him back to bed, it had now left you wide awake, wondering what had been going through Javi’s head, torturing him enough to keep him up. It had also meant that the two of you had slept in much longer than you intended, leaving later than planned for Steve and Connie’s. The two of you had quickly packed your things and hit the road, stopping to grab lunch on the way before you found yourself dead asleep next to Javi for the last hour and a half of your journey to San Antonio. With only a few minutes now left in your drive, you peered out the window, admiring the houses that lined the quiet streets of the Murphy’s neighborhood.

“This is a cute subdivision.” You smiled over at Javi, admiring the houses, charming and inviting as they were freshly decorated from Halloween.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.” He grinned back, wrapping his palm around your thigh, giving your leg a little squeeze. He took a deep breath, his voice now shifting in tone, becoming more shaky and nervous. “Would you uh- would you, um, wanna live in a neighborhood like this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, the houses are all really close together. I spent so much of my life in the city, and even at my house growing up, everything always felt so cramped. After coming here, especially after seeing your ranch, I don’t know, I would love to be somewhere with more space. But that’s a big ask, so, maybe one day if it works out, I guess.” You reached over, rubbing your hand along Javi’s arm, your soft smile meeting his tender gaze as he smirked, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, one day.”

Taking a last turn down one of the neighborhood streets, the two of you pulled up to the quaint two story home belonging to the Murphy’s. Turning off the ignition, Javi paused for a moment, grinning to himself as he ran the hand resting on your leg up to your face, cupping your check as his eyes roamed the length of your body, taking every inch of you in as his sweet brown eyes consumed you. “I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” Both of your heads tilted, your lips gently pressing against one anothers as you traced your hand through Javi’s dark curls, pulling him closer into you. You could feel his smile against your mouth as his tongue barely swiped against your bottom lip, the two of you so lost in the moment, you hadn’t even seen Steve make his way out of the house to greet you, let alone the fact that he was now standing at the driver’s side door, hands on his hips as he watched your impromptu makeout session in Javi’s truck.

“You two lovebirds want help bringin’ your bags in, or do I need to give you a minute?” Steve chuckled to himself as you and Javi shot up, hearts racing and faces going white hearing his distinct drawl and rapid tapping at the driver’s side window. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Javi placed one more soft kiss on your forehead before promptly turning around to flip off Steve and opening the driver’s side door. “You two are worse than a pair of horny teenagers, I swear.” You could hear Steve still snickering to himself as you exited out your side of the car, making your way over to find Javi and Steve in a tight hug, lovingly patting each other on the back.

“Fuck off, Murph.” Javi shook his head against Steve’s embrace, pulling away to grab your two bags from the backseat.

“Listen, I’m not the one makin’ out in my driveway.” Steve shrugged as you sheepishly emerged from your side of the truck, smiling at you as grimaced at him.

“He started it…” You glanced over at Javi, you and Steve now both giggling as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Of course he did, wouldn’t put anything past this old bastard. How ya doin’ sweetheart? Good to see the both of you, we’re really glad you guys could make it.

“She’s doing great after the hour and a half nap she took on the way here.” Javi interjected, slamming the truck door behind him, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

“Whatever, you meanie. In my defense, I was not planning to sleep that long, and I think Halloween exhaustion got the best of me.” You shot Javi a quick wink, trying to bite down on your lip before turning back to face Steve.

“Listen, I don’t blame ya. I’m fuckin’ exhausted after trick-or-treating with 3 kids, let alone tryin’ to keep ‘em wrangled at school all day. I love those girls, but I don’t think I could've gotten them in my parents car fast enough when they came to pick ‘em up this morning. Here, come on in, I won’t make you stand out in the driveway all day, unless you need to make out more.”

As you stepped into the Murphy home, you were greeted by an abundance of Halloween streamers and banners hanging in the living room and up the stairwell to the second floor, along with a few Barbie dolls and accessories scattered across the entryway, nearly stepping on one as you came through the door. You could smell the sweet scent of something baking in the kitchen as Connie came rushing through the hallway, arms outstretched to greet you and Javi. “Oh it’s so good to see you two, thank you so much for coming!” Connie squeezed you and Javi in a tight hug before she backed away, kicking one of the toys on the floor across the room. “Sorry about the Barbies, I told the girls to clean up before they left for their grandparents this morning but I think all 3 of them are still running on a sugar high from last night and that obviously didn’t happen.”

“Thank you so much for having us! Don’t worry about it at all, I totally understand! Javi was just telling me on the way over how much he was hoping the girls had Barbies he could play with anyways!” The 3 of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as you gave him a smirk and a little nudge.

“Fuck, I forgot how funny she was Jav.” Steve snickered to himself, picking up one of the Barbies and tossing it across the room into one of the toy baskets along the wall. “Seriously though, we are really glad you guys could make it. Your birthday party was fun as hell, old man. Glad to be close enough to actually see each other and do stuff like this again.”

Before Javi would respond, you all jumped, startled by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping rapidly from the other room. “Oh crap, sorry, I gotta grab the cupcakes out of the oven!” Connie grimaced apologetically, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, excited to spend more time with Connie.

“Oh my gosh actually if you could help with frosting the cupcakes that would be amazing. I made these yesterday for Olivia and Abby’s class parties, and I had no idea it was gonna take so long and was worried I wasn’t going to have enough time for all of them before the party! Thank you!”

“Of course!” You replied, grinning at her before following her lead to the kitchen, giving a little wave as you disappeared around the hall, looking back at Steve and Javi. “Have fun, you two.”

Steve paused for a moment until the both of you were out of sight, waiting to forcefully slap his hand against Javi’s chest, making him groan from the unexpected pain.

“What the fuck was that for, you jackass?” Javi winced, glaring at Steve.

“Where the fuck’s the ring, man?! Steve hissed through gritted teeth, looking back at Javi in disappointment. “I thought you were gonna fuckin’ do it after you got back from Chicago and met her family?! I thought everything was all good with- oh shit, did something happen with the ho-”

“Shhhhhh! You fuckin’ idiot, please, talk louder, I don’t think the people at the end of the street could hear you.” Javi looked around the corner, clenching his jaw, praying that you hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen.

“I’m not that fuckin’ loud… Shit, what the fuck happened then?” Steve grumbled, looking over at Javi with concern.

“Can we maybe talk about proposal plans somewhere that’s not right by the woman I’m trying to propose to?” Running his thumb over his balled fists, Javi’s eyes darted back and forth, staying on the lookout for your return.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll show you where the guest room is and then you can tell me.” Steve motioned up the stairs, Javi trailing behind with both your bags draped around his shoulders

“Was I really that fuckin’ loud?”

“…Have you heard yourself talk?”

“So how’s everything been going at work? There definitely was a full moon sometime in the past week because things were crazy at the hospital, I’m sure they had to be equally as bad at an elementary school.” You and Connie giggled as you squeezed a dollop of orange frosting onto one of the cupcakes before taking one of the little bags to pipe on eyes and a mouth to make it look like a pumpkin.

“Oh my god, I think it must have been on Wednesday, I had a boy cut another girl’s hair with scissors and then had to call another parent because her daughter bit another kid at recess pretending to play werewolves. I felt really bad we didn’t come last night, I was exhausted after our Halloween party, I fell asleep on poor Javi at like, 8 o’clock.”

Although you found yourself laughing with Connie again, you couldn’t help but shake the uncomfortable feeling you had in your gut as you thought about after you had woken up in the middle of the night to find Javi wide awake and distressed. You carefully set down your spatula, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Connie, still frosting next to you. “Hey, uh, Connie? Can, um- Can I ask you something?” Connie immediately sensed the shift in your tone, putting down her cupcake.

“Of course, honey. What’s going on?”

“Did um, did- Did Steve ever- ever talk to you? About all the stuff that happened in Colombia? I mean like, I know you were there, but I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask, this is probably way too personal, I-” You could feel yourself shrinking, retracting in embarrassment at your overly intrusive question, unable to finish your thought before Connie cut you off, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, honey…” Her eyes were filled with sympathy as they looked back at yours, letting out a sigh before she responded. “Did something happen?” You began to nod your head no, even though you could feel the words yes burning in your throat. You took another shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears now welling in your eyes as you spoke.

“No I mean- well, yeah, I guess. Last night, I woke up and Javi wasn’t in bed. He was out in the living room and I could tell that something was bothering him. I don’t know- maybe it was nothing. I just- when my brothers came back from active duty, there were a lot of things that kind of just went unspoken. I knew it was hard for them to talk about. Charlie handled it okay, but my brother Patrick never wanted to talk to anyone about what happened, and it just- I don’t know Connie, I don’t think Javi would ever do anything stupid like he did, but- fuck- it scares me sometimes. I know Javi’s done things that he’s probably not proud of, and I get it’s part of the nature of what his job was. I don’t care. I really don’t. People do shitty things when they’re put in shitty situations. But he never talks about it. Ever. Does… Does he not trust me? I care about him so much, Con. More than anything. I get so worried about him.”

Your tears were now streaming down your cheeks, leaving your face wet as you wiped the back of your hand across your skin to try and do some form of damage control before Connie embraced you, pulling you in for a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around you. “Oh sweetheart. Of course he trusts you. When Steve came back, he was a mess. I don’t think it really all hit him until he was finally home. I guess you’re right, it was different because I was there, but even then, there were things that happened that I didn’t know about. After begging and begging him, I finally got him to go to see someone and it really helped, but even now, there’s times where it still creeps up on him. Honey, Javi loves you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day he was in love as he is with you. If he’s anything like Steve, he just doesn't wanna hurt you.”

You sniffled, taking a step back to wipe your nose with your sleeve, your lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying harder than you already were. “But that’s what hurts, Connie. It hurts me to think he has to keep this from me, like I’m gonna think less of him for what he’s been through.”

“I know. Have you talked to him about it?” Connie’s voice was gentle and sweet, rubbing her hand along your arm as she listened to what you needed to get off your chest.

“No… I guess I should have. I never wanted to pry. I know it’s hard to talk about, I just- I wanna be there for him Connie. I don’t want him to have to do it all on his own.” You shifted your gaze to the ground, guilt washing over you. After Patrick, you couldn’t live with the idea of letting Javi try to suffer through his past alone. You loved him more than anything- and even the slightest thought of going through anything similar to what had happened to Patrick again with Javi was almost paralyzing.

“I think the best thing you can do is to go talk to him.” Looking back up, you saw Connie smiling at you, trying to convince you that everything would be okay, even if it felt like it wasn’t. “Why don’t you go find him? Party’s starting soon anyways, you can go change into your costumes and come down wherever you’re ready. I’ll be just fine with the cupcakes, tell Steve can put himself to work frosting.” The both of you grinned as you tried to wipe your tears, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Thanks, Connie.” You whispered into her shoulder as you pulled her in for a hug before heading up the stairs to find where Javi and Steve had gone. It didn’t take you long to find the pair, hearing their voices carry through the hallway from the slightly cracked door of the guest bedroom. You were about to knock and interrupt their conversation, stopping yourself with your fist barely touching the door as you tried to make out what they were talking about.

“The offer was in fucking cash, too. I was trying to make it easier so I could speed up the process, but it’s been taking them so goddamn long to close on everything so I can finally go sign the fucking paperwork.”

“That fuckin’ blows, Jav. I’m sorry. It’s not like she knows any better, though. It’ll still be a huge fuckin’ surprise, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I know. It’s been killing me to wait this long. I just want it to be perfect, Steve. She deserves everything. Honestly, I’m kinda glad it bought me some more time. I need to find a way to get her to see it before everything’s official in case she fucking hates it.”

“Javi. She’s not gonna hate it. Fuck it, tell her Connie and I are lookin’ for somethin’ and we wanted you two to go see it for us. I don’t know, maybe that’s too obvious. Speakin’ of which, I should probably go check to see if she needs anything before this party, I’m already in the fuckin’ dog house for forgettin’ to bring the girl’s trick-or-treatin’ bags to school, I don’t need to be in trouble for anything else.”

What the hell were they talking about? What was Javi signing? Why was it taking so long? What the hell did it have to do with you? Wait… holy fuck. No way… Was he-

Before you could finish your thought, you suddenly realized Steve was making his way towards the door. You quickly rapped your fist against the wood, trying to play off the fact you had been eavesdropping and make it look like you had just unassumingly made your way upstairs, not overhearing the conversation the two were just having.

Knock, knock.

“Hey, it’s me! Uh, Steve, Con wants to know if you can help her with the cupcakes really quick.” You pushed open the door, trying your best to smile at the suspicious pair as Steve shook his head, looking back at Javi.

“It’s always fuckin’ somethin’. I don’t even know what I did wrong this time, I swear.” Steve held up his hands defensively, sliding his way past you in the doorway before heading downstairs, leaving you standing there awkwardly, unsure how to feel after your conversation with Connie and the one you had just overheard.

“Hey, Osita. How’s everything goin’ down there? Sorry, we were just about to come down and- Hey, baby, you okay?” Javi stood up, concern spreading across his face from the strange scrunch in your brow as you stared at the floor.

“Ummmm…” You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, your conversation with Connie had you ready to confront Javi, to finally work up the courage to ask him about the past life he had tried his best to keep from you. But as you glanced over at him, seeing his sweet brown eyes and stupidly handsome face, remembering the discussion you had just overheard through the doorway, the other hand meant you weren’t at risk of ruining your night that the two of you had been so looking forward to, and right now, the other hand was going to have to be the one you needed to play. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I just- I was gonna ask you something but forgot what I was gonna say. I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually.” You smiled at Javi, neither of you completely convinced by your response. “But um, Connie said that people are gonna start getting here soon, so we can change into our costumes if you want.” A smirk slowly stretched across your cheeks as you nodded over to the black duffle bags laying on the bed.

Javi’s grin matched yours quickly, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer against him as you giggled. “You sure we’re not gonna be the only ones dressed up?”

“Well considering it’s a Halloween party and I literally just talked to Connie about what she and Steve are wearing downstairs, I’m gonna give it a pretty confident yes. Worst case, it just looks like you’re wearing a white shirt and vest, Mr. Solo. You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking nerf herder.” You raised your eyebrows, playfully poking at his chest. Javi paused, shaking his head at your quote, firing one right back at you as he bit down on his lip.

“You just like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

“I happen to like nice men.”

“I am a nice man.”

Javi cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, heavy kiss before backing away to unpack your bags, shooting you a quick wink as you rolled your eyes. Jesus, he even found a way to make Star Wars sexy. Just when you thought you couldn’t be anymore in love, Javier Peña never failed to find a way to make you realize you’d never stop falling for him.

After putting in what felt like the 74th bobby pin into your hair after getting the last braid wrapped over your head, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how well your costume had turned out. While Javi was disappointed you were adamant you were not going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi and showing up in front of a group of strangers at Steve and Connie’s party in her slave costume, you and Javi both agreed that Hoth Princess Leia was definitely the next best look. Staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, Javi had been adamant about waiting with you as you finished getting ready, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you finish the last of your hair and makeup.

“Okay, I think that should stay. All those years of braiding my hair for under my hockey helmet are finally coming in handy for something.” You snickered, pushing the final clip into your hair to hold it into place, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. As you looked yourself down, Javi’s eyes wandered up and down your body just as fast, practically undressing you as fast as you had put your costume on.

“Goddamn, Osita… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Me? Jesus Christ, Javi. You put Harrison Ford to shame with how fucking good you look. I like Han Solo better with a mustache anyways.” You licked your tongue against your bottom lip, running your hands along the muscles of his arms, straining against the tight henley shirt he was wearing under his vest. You were no better than Javi, practically having to force yourself to not look in his general direction while you were getting ready to prevent yourself from pouncing on him. But given the lack of chatter downstairs, and the impressive speed at which the two of you had gotten ready, you really couldn’t help yourself. Slowly, you let your hands begin to slip down his arms and across his chest, palming at the denim of his black jeans as he let out a deep groan.

“Hermosa…” He hissed against your neck as you grasped at the bulge now growing under his pants, your other hand now making its way down to undo his belt, the clinking of the metal drowned out by Javi’s heavy panting. You began lowering your body, sliding Javi’s pants and boxers down his thighs as his cock sprang free, his tip already red and leaking with precum. You rested on your knees, face to face with his length as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him a few times.

“This okay, Captain Solo?” You batted your lashes at him, giving him a wink before letting your spit dribble onto his cock, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. Curling your fingers around his base, you began to twist your wrist, hollowing out your cheeks as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit, Osita.” He moaned, tilting his head back, letting his jaw go slack as your head bobbed back and forth. He gently rested his hand along the side of your face, helping to guide you along his length as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, that feels so good. You look so hot, god fuckin’ dammit.” Javi’s words were labored and shaky as you started to increase your pace, wrapping your free hand around the back of his bare thigh, digging your fingertips into his leg. Feeling the pressure beginning to build in his stomach, Javi began rocking his hips, his jaw completely slack as he looked down at the sight of how well you took him in your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as sucked along his cock, hard and heavy on your tongue. “Fuck, Osita. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum like this, baby? Fill up that- fuck- fill up that pretty little mouth of yours?””

You glanced up at him, nodding, your lips still wrapped around his dick, the motions of your head and wrist now becoming faster and sloppier as you watched Javi’s brow scrunch and jaw clench, a sign you knew all too well that he was moments away from coming undone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, baby- shit- se sientes tan bien, estoy tan cercaaahhhhhh-” (you feel so good, I’m so closeeeee-). The hot ropes of his spend coated the back of your throat, the salty, tangy mix filling your mouth as Javi whined, giving his hips one last push as kept your lips wrapped around him, making sure that you had milked him of every last drop before releasing. Letting your spit and his release fall from the corners of your lips, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking up at Javi’s blissed out expression. “Jesus Christ, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that. Holy shit. Lemme take care of-“

You held up your hand to stop him as you stood up, your gesture cutting off the rest of his sentence as you helped to pull up his jeans and boxers still resting along his thighs. “I’m allowed to give my hot ass boyfriend blowjobs without anything in return. C’mon, we better get downstairs before Steve walks in on us again.” You pressed up on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on Javi’s lips as he reached down to buckle his belt before the two of you tried your best to fix yourself up in the mirror to avoid the inevitable shit Steve was about to give the both of you. Giving Javi a quick nod in the mirror before turning off the light and heading out the door, he gave your ass a playful smack, making you squeal in surprise, making you turn on your heels. Resting his hand on his hip, he beamed at you, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

The Murphy’s living room had begun to pool with guests as you made your way down the stairs, looking for Steve and Connie amongst the crowd. You and Javi both grabbed a beer from the cooler at the bottom of the stairwell, quickly turning around as you heard Steve’s familiar twang approaching behind you.

“Well I’ll be damned. You got this motherfucker in a costume? He must really love you.” Steve chuckled, shaking Javi by the shoulders. “And Star Wars too?! You asshole, how many times did I try to tell you they were good fuckin’ movies?! You shoulda dressed him up like Jabba the Hut.” You and Steve cackled as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and what the fuck are you supposed to be? A sad pirate?” Javi jabbed, poking fun at Steve’s poorly put together costume.

“Listen, Olivia and Abby both wanted to be the Little Mermaid, so we had two Ariel’s, Con was Ursula, Madison was the yellow fish and I didn’t wanna be that annoying ass crab, so pirate it was, asshole.” Steve retorted, punching at Javi’s arm, the two of them laughing at each other like little boys. “Alright, go enjoy yourselves lovebirds, I’ll see ya in a little bit. And Javi?”

“Yeah Murph?”

“You really gotta start checkin’ your pants, buddy.”

Javi’s cheeks turned red, his eyes darting down to his zipper, still all the way undone from your activities upstairs, the both of you grimacing at each other, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with Steve as he disappeared into the crowd.

It really wasn’t a surprise to Javi how many friends the Murphy’s had already managed to make in their time since moving to San Antonio. Their house was quickly crowded with all sorts of people- Steve and Connie’s co-workers, neighbors, parents of friends Olivia and Abby had made at school, regardless of where the party goers were from, everyone had collectively agreed to make adult Halloween just as fun as any kids. You and Javi were having a great time catching up with Steve and Connie, as well as meeting some of their other close friends, one of Connie’s neighbors being an elementary school teacher, giving you two plenty to commiserate about from the hellish week it had been. It didn’t take long for the party to move outside, Steve drunkenly deciding that he needed to make a bonfire, despite adamant argument that with the amount of alcohol Steve had in his system, he was going to spontaneously combust if he got close enough to a flame. Javi, sober enough to still help his friend make rational decisions, was glad that Steve was happy to let him build the bonfire.

“The force is strong with you, Han Solo.” You giggled, Javi wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead as the two of you stared into the flickering orange glow of the fire pit.

“Not strong enough to extinguish Steve if he got close enough to it. Hey, I got shit all over my hands, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and wash ‘em off. You need anything while I’m inside, Princess?” You smiled as you nudged Javi at the nickname he had been adamant about using since you had put on your costume.

“I’m good, thank you. I’m gonna go wait over on the swingset so I don’t completely reek of bonfire later.” Javi nodded as he slid his hand down your back, giving your ass a quick squeeze before making his way through the crowd, heading towards the house. Surprised no one else had capitalized on the chance to sit down, you wandered over to the wooden playset at the corner of the Murphy’s backyard, taking a seat on one of the plastic swings, kicking your feet against the grass below.

“Hey, there she is! How goes it, Leia?” Taking a few long strides through the yard, Steve was now quickly making his way over to you, stumbling over his own feet as he somehow managed to sit himself down on the swing next to you. You tried your best not to laugh at Steve’s drunken state, but his current antics weren’t making it very easy on you.

“I could ask the same to you. You doin’ okay there, pirate?”

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m doin’ fuckin’ great. Where’s the asshole?”

“Inside, I’m sure he’ll be back out soon.” You snickered at Steve watching the beer dribble down his chin from the overly confident swig he had taken.

“Good, I don’t need ‘em right now. You were the one I was lookin’ for.” Steve pointed in your general direction, but clearly wasn’t aware enough to hit his target head on.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing back to yourself.

“Yes, you. You talk to him yet?”

“About?” You paused, wondering if Steve had any inkling of the conversation you were planning to have earlier, or if he was drunkenly deciding you and Javi needed to discuss something else.

“You know about what. I talked to Connie earlier. I figured I owed it to you to come talk to you about it, too.”

Your heart began to race, that uncomfortable feeling once again beginning to churn in your stomach as you thought about the things you and Connie had discussed earlier. “Steve, you don’t owe me anything, I-”

“No, I do. Hold on a second.” Steve turned away, letting out a hearty burp, pouding on his chest before facing back towards you. “Sorry, I’ve been holdin’ that in for like 10 minutes, I needed to let it out. Anyways… What was I sayin’? Oh shit, yeah, the grumpy bastard. Listen, sweetheart. I know it’s gonna fuckin’ suck, but you gotta be the one to bring it up and talk to him about it. If I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he will bottle things up for way too fuckin’ long until someone gets it out of him. He’s a good guy. He says he’s not, but he is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. That job made us do some fucked up shit neither of us are fuckin’ proud of. But that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it from you. I swear to God, that asshole is so fuckin’ in love with you, it makes me sick. You make him so happy. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, all you could manage was to reach over to the swing next to you, pulling Steve in for a hug as you tried to keep your tears from staining his shirt. “Thanks, Steve.” You whispered, leaning back into your seat, using your sleeve to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“I know you love him too. You deserve to know. Don’t let him be a stubborn jackass to you, okay? I’m bein’ serious. I should be the one thankin’ you though, honey. In all the years I’ve known him, I never thought I’d see ‘em this happy. I promise I won’t get this drunk at your wedding.” Steve winked, straining to push himself up out of the swing, somehow managing to catch his balance as he stumbled into the grass.

“You do make a very inspirational drunk, Steve.” You laughed to yourself, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Alright, enough sap, I’m gonna go get another fuckin’ beer, I’ll see ya around okay?”

“Okay, maybe a water would be good for you, too.”

“Water’s for pussies.”

“Water’s good for people who don’t want raging hangovers tomorrow.”

“Pirates are always drunk, so I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

It didn’t take long for Javi to return, easily spotting his tall, broad body making his way through the crowd, beaming at you as he walked over to the swings. You tried your best to smile back at him with the uneasy pounding in your chest quickly building, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Hey, Hermosa. Sorry it took so long, I ended up stopping to get another drink on the-“

“Do- Javi, do you trust me?”

Your words were quiet and blunt as they rolled off your tongue, your eyes peeled on your feet kicking through the grass beneath you.

Javi’s brow immediately scrunched in confusion, completely off put by your question and demeanor. “Do I- Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you? What’s going on?” Setting down his drink, he began making his way next to you in frantic, worried strides.

“Then why won’t you talk to me about it?” Your eyes darted from the ground up to his, his sweet brown eyes swirling with confusion at the firm tone of your voice and desperation growing across your face.

“Talk to you about what? Hermosa, what’s going on? Is everything ok-”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Colombia?”

Javi took a step back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defense, or absolute shock from the words that had just fallen out of your mouth. He stared at you for a moment, his jaw locking as you could see how hard he swallowed, trying to bide his time as he calculated his response.

“Osita… It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. Baby, if this is because of last night, you don’t need to worry about me, can we please just drop it?” The two of you faced each other in an unspoken standoff, Javi’s hands now resting on his hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. You had tried so hard to be patient, but in the moment, it was like all of your frustration was beginning to boil over.

“That’s exactly why we’re talking about this, Javi. Because I fucking worry about you. All the time. I’ve tried so hard to be patient. I’ve never, ever tried to get you to talk about it because I know it’s fucking hard. But last night, you’re up at 2 A.M, wandering around the apartment, and I’m begging you to tell me what’s wrong and you won’t fucking do it. I’m not an idiot, Javi. I can’t live in this weird in between space in your life where you pretend your past doesn’t exist when I know it still fucking haunts you. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

Javi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweating as they clenched in tight fists at his sides. He tried so desperately to find an answer, something, anything he could tell you to try and justify his choices. The choices he had kept from you. The choices he couldn’t forgive himself for. “Because, I- fuck- because, goddamnit, I just- I was a terrible fucking person, okay? The things I did, they were-”

“What? Fucked up? Painful? Shitty? Of course they fucking were, Javi. You were literally in Colombia chasing down Pablo Fucking Escobar. What did you think I thought you were doing down there? Filing away paperwork? You don’t think I know that you did things you regret? That you’ve hurt people? Made choices that hurt innocent people who didn’t deserve it? I know Javi, I fucking know. I watched my brothers come back from the same goddamn thing. I tried so hard to give them space, to let them come to terms with the fucked up things they did on their own, and you know what fucking happened? One of them’s fucking dead because of it. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t care about what you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person. But you can’t try and hide it from me and pretend like it doesn’t exist. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t if you don’t trust me. Please trust me. Please. I love you so much, Javi. I can’t lose you.”

Javi stood in silence, as the both of you fought the tears streaming down your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he had just been hit in the gut with a giant sucker punch, or if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly. Did you really just tell him that you knew about the fucked up, terrible things he had done and that you didn’t care? That you still fucking loved him? All you wanted was for him to trust that you wanted to be there for him? He could feel his hands trembling and lip quivering as he tried to find the words to speak.

“Osita… I- fuck, baby. Osita, I’m so sorry. I trust you with my fucking life. You- You don’t deserve to have to deal with with all the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t wanna scare you away, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me and I was so terrified if you found out about the terrible person I used to be, you’d leave. It’s not fair to you, I can’t expect you to carry the weight of all the fucking things I’ve done, too. I’m so sorry.” Quietly, Javi sat down next to you on the empty swing, burying his hands in his face. Gently, you reached over, pulling his hands away, forcing him to look at you.

“Whatever you tell me isn’t gonna scare me away. I promise. The only thing that’s gonna scare me is when you try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Javi… Javi, I just- I just wanna be there for you. I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’d do anything for you. I trust you more than anyone. You’re my best friend. I just- fuck- I just want you to trust that I’ll always be there for you to. I promise.”

And just like that, the last brick holding up the wall between you and Javier Peña collapsed. There was nothing left to run from. Nothing left to hide. After he returned home, he was a changed man. He had hated the person he had become. Maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to be loved, because he didn’t believe that he deserved to be. But then, there was you.

You.

You had taken everything he had known and changed his life for the better. You had become his better half, the person he loved more than anyone in the world. You had proved he was worthy of more than just existing- you had proved to Javi that he was worth the love and happiness you had promised him from the moment you had come into his life and made it worth living for.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Always.”

The way Javi grabbed you and wrapped you in his arms, grasping at the back of your shirt as he pulled you in tighter, feeling the hot breath of his silent sobs against your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t know much, but if there was one thing you did know, it was that you loved Javier Peña more than life itself. As quickly as it had felt like your life had fallen apart, he had come into it and picked up the broken pieces to put it back together. And on an October night in San Antonio, sitting on an old wooden swing set in the Murphy’s backyard, you hoped that Javi knew that you would always be there to pick up the shattered parts of his past, too.

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed as you sat hand in hand in the swings with Javi as you listened to anything and everything he had to say. Long after the backyard was empty, and the bonfire had faded to embers and ashes, and the only one left awake besides the two of you was Connie, trying to drag Steve back inside from the plastic lawn chair he had passed out on, you finally made your way up to bed for the best sleep the two of you had in a very, very long time. Your goodbyes to the Murphy’s had been short and sweet- Connie exhausted from the late night, and Steve barley coherent from how hungover he was, you were still both so thankful the two of you had made the journey out to see them, and the both of you, just as grateful for the sweet and supportive life long friends you knew the Murphy’s would become. Most of your drive back to Laredo was spent in a comfortable silence, the golden sunrise spilling through the windows of Javi’s truck as you cruised down the highway, Javi’s hand never leaving yours, your fingers intertwined together as his thumb gently rubbed against your soft skin and your head rested against his broad shoulder.

“How are you feeling about seeing your mom today?” You asked, lightly squeezing his arm as you smiled up at him, now exiting off the freeway quickly approaching the cemetery where you planned to meet Chucho to celebrate Día De Los Muertos, trying your best to comfort Javi as he prepared to see his mom’s gravesite for the first time since her funeral almost a decade ago. Javi let out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening just a little tighter around your hand as he looked over at you, a surprisingly calm look flooding his face.

“I’m actually doing okay. Better than I would have thought. I think I was always so worried that she wouldn’t be proud of me and the man I’d become after she was gone. I um- I finally think that she’d be proud of me now.” He glanced over at you, his smile soft and tender as he soaked in the reason for his pride sitting right beside him.

You noticed Chucho’s truck as you pulled up to park along the edge of the small cemetery, Chucho excitedly waving you down as you both hopped out of the car. Walking around to Javi, you were quick to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring grip as the two of you made your way through the gravestones along the thin cobblestone path towards Chucho, already arranging the items he had collected for Lucia’s ofrenda.

“Hola, niños.” Chucho grinned, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of today, Chucho. I know… Well, I just- I’m really honored to- just, thank you.” Chucho wasted no time pulling you into your own hug, his rough and worn hands holding you by the shoulders as he looked at you with misty eyes.

“Mija, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if we would all be here today. Lucia’s last wish to me was that I would promise to make sure Javier was happy. Now hija, I think my sweet Lucia can rest a little easier knowing someone else has already fulfilled my promise for me.” As the two of you spoke, you hadn’t noticed as Javi had quietly stepped over to his mother’s gravestone, crouching next to it, his fingers delicately tracing along the engraved letters of her name, his other hand holding one of the marigold flowers Chucho had brought with him. The two of you watched quietly as Javi sat next to his mom, gently placing the flower on the shiny stone as he spoke.

“Hola, mamá. Te extrañé. Siento haber tarado tanto.” (Hi mom. I missed you. I’m sorry I took so long). Javi’s voice trembled as he took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as his hand rested on the stone, warm from the sun, shining brightly in the blue November sky. “Que estaba asustada de de verte porque estaba orgullosala de la persona en la que me había convertido. Que no quería decepcionarte. Tenía miedo mucho, mamá. Me sentí como si todo se derrumbase. solo quería olvidar. Pero entonces…” (I was scared to see you because I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was so scared, mom. I felt like I let everyone down. I just wanted to forget. But then…). Javi turned his head, seeing you and Chucho, arm in arm, a smile growing across his face as looked back at the two people in life he loved the most. He took an extra moment to stare at you and the soft grin spread between your cheeks, basking in the comfort and warmth of the woman who had forever changed his life for the better. “Pero entonces, mamá, La conocí. Que es perfecta. Nunca supe que podías amar tanto a alguien. Ella es lo mejor que me ha pasado. La habrías amado.ella es una maestra, tambien. A veces me pregunto qué ve en mí. No sé qué hice para merecerse. voy a pedirle que se case conmigo.Cuidaré bien de ella. Ella se merece todo lo que le pueda dar y más. Espero que estés orgulloso de mí, mamá. te echo mucho, Pero le juro a usted, al fin soy feliz. Te amo, mamá.” (But then, mom, I met her. She is perfect. I never knew you could love someone so much. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You would have loved her. She’s a teacher too. Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her. I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’m gonna take such good care of her. She deserves everything I can give her and more. I hope you’re proud of me, mamá. I miss you so much, but I promise you, I’m finally happy. I love you, mom.)

With a gentle nudge from Chucho, you softly stepped behind Javi, gently placing your hands on his shoulders before he rose up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest as he wiped away the tears welling behind his eyes. Staring down at Lucia’s gravestone, Javi ran his hand through your hair, carefully planting a kiss against your head and burying his nose in the soft waves of your hair.

“I wish I would have had the chance to have met you, Mrs. Peña. I would have had someone else to commensurate with over all of the crazy teaching stories I’m sure the both of us have. Maria, Estelle and Linda all miss you a lot too, but I’m sure they haven’t changed a bit. Thanks for raising such a good son. I don’t know what I would do without him. I know he says that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve me, but I really think it should be the other way around. I promise I’ll look out for him.” You tried your best to smile through your soft sobs, looking up at Javi, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. It wasn’t long before Chucho had snuck up behind you, patting each of you on the back before smiling down at Lucia, too.

“Estos dos están tan enamorados, Lucia. Tal vez más que tú y yo. Ella es una buena chica. Estoy muy contenta de que ella sea parte de nuestra familia. Finalmente tendremos a nuestros nietos, también.” (These two are so in love, Lucia. Maybe even more than you and I. She is a great girl. I am so happy she is a part of our family. We are finally going to get our grandchildren, too). Chucho winked, nudging Javi in the side, forcing him to laugh through his tears, shaking his head at his dad’s comment. “Now, no more tears, you two. This is a happy day. Your mamá is smiling down on you, and I can almost hear here scolding me to keep you from crying anymore. C’mon, let’s decorate and eat, I even brought pozole.”

The three of you spent the next hour decorating Lucia’s grave with bright orange and gold cempazuchitl (marigold flowers) and little Calaveras (sugar skulls) painted in bold colors and refined details, sharing and laughing about Javi’s favorite memories of his mother while snacking on the Pozole Chucho had brought to share. For the first time in a long time, Javi no longer felt guilt and grief when he thought about his mom- her memory filled him with love and joy. He wasn’t the same bitter, broken man he was when he had said his final goodbyes to his mother all those years ago. While he wished he could change the past, the reality of the present, and his future finally brought him peace, knowing he could be proud of the man he had become, thanks to you.

As Javi helped Chucho to clean up the extra flowers and decorations he had brought, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching at the wrinkled photo you had shoved in your pocket as you had packed up to leave from the Murphy’s this morning. You carefully took it out, holding it gently in your hands as you tried to uncrinkle the edges. “You ready, Hermosa?” Javi called out, now a few steps ahead of you, making his way back towards the truck. “Hermosa?” He asked again, thinking perhaps you hadn’t heard him the first time. When he was greeted by silence again, he looked back to see you staring at the crumpled photo in your hands.

“I um- I know that he isn’t buried here, and uh, if you don’t want me to, it’s okay- but um- is it, is it alright if I leave a couple flowers for Patrick?” You sniffed, a tear dropping down on the photo of the two of you, Patrick holding you in a headlock as you laughed with a wide, toothy grin, drowning in one of his old Blackhawks jerseys that you were so excited to wear because it belonged to him.

“Of course, Osita. Of course it is.” Javi smiled at you softly, turning back around with the tub of leftover decorations, making his way towards you. Quietly, you walked back over to Lucia’s gravestone, carefully setting down the picture of you and Patrick next to it, putting a few marigolds over top of it so it stayed pinned in place from the warm breeze.

“I miss you, asshole. You deserved so much better. I hope you don’t still think that I hate you. I mean, I do, but you know what I mean. Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t have to live through the Blackhawks losing in the playoffs this year, that fucking sucked. Mom and Dad and Charlie and David all miss you too. I finally went back home to see them. It still wasn’t the same without you there, but I know you don’t hurt anymore. I hope that you don’t hurt anymore. I love you, Patrick. Crack open a cold one up there for me, okay?” Trying your best to not to uncontrollably sob, you sniffled, wiping the tears running down your face as you leaned your head against Javi’s chest. He ran his hand along your back as he held you tighter, letting you take a moment to get everything out before you took a deep breath, nodding your head as if to signify to Javi and yourself that you were okay.

“You okay, Osita? We can take all the time you need, baby.” Javi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder.

“No, I’m okay. I just- I wanted to do something for him, too. Thanks, Javi. I love you.”

“I know.”

After several more long hugs goodbye with Chucho, you and Javi began your journey back home, marveling at the beautiful sunset, painting the sky with bright pinks and oranges and the warmth and comfort of Lucia and Patrick’s presence. You were so lost in thought staring out at the fading sky, you hadn’t even noticed that Javi had detoured from your usual route home until he had said something to you. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop on the way home, Osita?” You nodded, smiling at the golden glow covering his face. It wasn’t long until you were veering off the main road, Javi turning to make his way down a tree lined gravel pathway with a “For Sale” sign posted in front of it.

“For sale?” You questioned, looking over at Javi before peering out your window to watch the trees lining the path pass by you as the gravel crunched under the truck’s tires.

“Yeah, uh- I was talking with Steve at the party yesterday and he- uh, one of his buddies said he was looking to get out of the city- wanted a plot of land to build on. Said he had heard good things about Laredo but didn’t have time to go check things out for himself, so I told him I would go take a look around and let Steve know what I thought.” Javi replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant as you shrugged before looking back out the window. As you reached the end of the path, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful, lush green field, the sun setting perfectly along the rolling hills of the horizon in front of you. Turning off the ignition, Javi gestured for the both of you to get out of the truck so you could go take a look around.

“Jav… This is beautiful.” You marveld, grinning as you took in the beauty of the open space drenched in golden sunset.

“You like it?” Javi grinned, laughing as you spun around, the gentle breeze blowing your hair in and out of your face.

“Oh my God, yeah. Tell Steve’s friend to get on this place ASAP before I scrounge up every penny I have and sell one of my kidneys on the black market to buy it from him. There doesn’t even need to be a house, I’ll just lay in the empty field, perfectly content.” You giggled, letting out a happy sigh as you grabbed Javi’s hand, leaning your head against his arm as you admired the sun slipping away below the horizon.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. He said he’s wanting to build a house here, do you think- do you think that he would think it’s got enough space? It’s not too far from everything? I know it’s a little farther from downtown and a longer drive to work- if uh, if he works by where we do, you don’t think that’d be a problem? For him?” Javi squeezed back, trying his best not to stumble over his words.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally perfect out here, Javi. Could you imagine getting to see this every night? He better put some big windows on this house so he can get all of the sunlight, oh my god, it would be so pretty. It’s not even that far from everything, and the view makes the extra drive time worth every minute. I know it’s probably a far way off, and we haven’t really talked about it, but I would love to live at a place like this someday.”

Javi smiled to himself, looking down at you as you rested against him, soaking in every ounce of you as he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist, gently rubbing his thumb along the soft hem of your shirt before letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd

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https-furina · 5 months

Text

— i love you endlessly ! ★ | edition: siblings, version 1.0

ft. lyney + lynette, kaeya + diluc, aether + lumine & albedo + klee. content. heavy angst, all family/platonic love, character death, mentions of blood, injury, light cursing. references to lyney’s vision story + lyney and lynette's story, hints at kaeya + lyney with ptsd & lyney with separation anxiety. aether + lumine is purely headcanon and is not representative of the future of genshin.

notes. my first time writing anything ever with klee and this is how it’s going… i’m so sorry klee omfg. this actually used to have ayato+ayaka and jean+barbara in it !! but i cut them out so i could post it since it’s been in my drafts for a LONG time and they weren’t finished yet. i’ll do a part two with them. taglist — open. @ryuryuryuyurboat @soleillunne @rainswept

✉️ mail received! sender: lyney & lynette

lyney lacks to admit the pure fear that sends shocks and shivers down his body when lynette is not within immediate sight of him. she likes to chime that he says some weird things; perhaps he does on late nights when lynette is accompanying freminet without him - father had assigned him to a different mission and he'd finished much earlier than her. thoughts rush through his mind quicker than he can process them, his aching legs pacing the floor of his bedroom.

are they okay? did something go wrong? lyney's mind is restless at all times, he needs to know lynette is safe. in a few moments of silence, he'll see a younger lynette in the dark, her ears flattened to her head and tail tucked in antagonising fear - the night that father had saved her life, mere moments from the potential loss of her life. lyney's throat will always tighten, breathing rapidly until his lungs burn.

he knows exactly how he got his vision, in the twilight of a cold night, surrounded by danger. he knows that he had begged father so recklessly for a delusion simply to fill the gap that the lack of a vision had given him but he didn't care, he wanted to accompany his sister. he couldn't let her out of his sight again.

one attachment added!

there's a painful silence that's filling the orphanage. on most days, it would be bustling - after all, father had acquired many orphans in light of their dire situations being unable to refuse such kind help as she offers. lyney catches himself frowning, feet pacing the worn floorboards of his bedroom floor. if lynette was here, she'd have already quipped about how the floor will 'disappear beneath him if he keeps pacing.'

the reminder of his twin sister should make him smile. it should draw a crack of a smile to his face and curl the corners of his lips upwards but it doesn't. she still hasn't returned from her mission and while lyney refuses to admit that he's been counting the hours since he was separated from lynette, he most definitely has.

an oil lamp burns by his bedside, painting the room in an orange hue as it glows and yet casting shadows across the walls. lyney can't help but catch sight of the shadows that night, painted on the walls in the glow of roaring flames that crackled from where they burned. he's painfully reminded of the fragile young girl lynette was, vulnerable and almost caught in a life threatening situation. he contemplates what would have happened to her if father hadn't interrupted in time but he's quick to shake his head. he's seen many what if scenarios in his nightmares, waking him as his body trembles and his lungs burn for oxygen.

the pained reminders stain his mind, torturing him when there's a burst of noise from the orphanage's entry hall; multiple voices screaming his name repeatedly, he can hear them calling for him and begging to know where he is. lyney whips his head towards his bedroom door, storming forth as he hurriedly opens it. he catches eyes with one of the orphans who'd been calling his name so painfully. they're wide, fearful and their face is void of colour.

"lyney! it's lynette-" need they say more? the boy rushes forward, skipping steps as he runs down the spiral staircases dressed in lavish red carpets that father had installed for a sense of aesthetic - she had claimed she couldn't work nor focus in a place so bland. - there's a sense of dread that fuels every inch of lyney's body, tearing him apart when he bursts into the entry hall.

beneath a dazzling chandelier with a warm amber glow, arlecchino herself has nestled beside the form of someone on the checker tiled floor, surrounded by orphans that she's trying desperately to shoo away, demanding for space in all of her authority. she's seem awry, not her typical self and lyney's lilac eyes fall to the familiar shoes of his twin sister, poking from the crowd.

his heart sinks, colour leaving his face as he hesitantly approaches; she's just injured, he convinces himself when he sees the stain of red on her usually pristine white shirt, something she was devoted to keeping that way for their shows. the orphans part at the sight of him, the dark eyes of arlecchino raising to him before she trails back down to lynette.

the girl is propped onto her lap, head rested against arlecchino's thighs. lynette has always been a pale girl, lyney knows this well enough whenever he glimpses his own shade of skin colour but she's even paler than usual, her eyelashes fluttered shut. the silence between himself and father is almost deafening.

"she's alright, isn't she?" he barely manages to croak out, seeing how arlecchino has pressed a lanky hand to where lynette's blood has seeped from. she almost grimaces, it's the most emotion lyney has seen from her for a while.

"she's already gone, lyney," was that a crack in her voice? lyney doesn't have the time to ponder it when his vision goes dark, he's dizzy and there's static in the corners of his eyes when he struggles to get air into his lungs, "freminet is in the infirmary."

the infirmary, yes - that means he's getting medical help but the same can't be said for his twin, who he had lacked to part with since they were born. the twin he would tell everything to, who he trusted with every fibre of his being as much as she did with him too.

there's a stinging in his eyes when tears prick at them, threatening to spill the longer he stares at lynette's body. he falls to his knees, not caring for the pain it causes when the floor is less than comfortable, pressing his face into lynette's clothing. she smells the same as she always does, the faint smell of the sugary desserts he'd reprimand her for, lumidouce bells and the ocean.

he lets out a cry into the fabric of her clothing, his hands gripping at it until his knuckles turn white. his cheek presses to her neck, she's cold to the touch already and arlecchino can't help but turn her head away at the sight of her most useful child reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess on the entry hall floor, gripping his dead sister for dear life.

✉️ mail received! sender: kaeya & diluc

despite going down two very different paths of life and perhaps saying things they shouldn’t have, they cannot deny the invisible ties of brotherly love. no matter how much diluc may throw sharp words at the cryo vision, they see their younger selves sometimes like reflections of the past in a shattered mirror’s shards.

on dreary nights where the rain storms against glass windows, when one brother remains consumed by a sweet yet bitter liquid on his tongue and the other brandishes a claymore in the night, they recognise their indifferences. they recognise the unshakeable bond that their pasts have tested to its limit. those around them too acknowledge that the past cannot truly deter emotions.

kaeya frequents the dawn winery much at the expense of his brother, who grumbles and snatches bottles of (almost stolen) wine from his tanned hands. it could be a misfortune he carries to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and this scene… feels so familiar to him.

one attachment added!

a crack of lightning decorates the dark sky looming over mondstadt. it’s been like this for a few hours now, trapping the two brothers in an awkward silence as they linger around the manor. diluc has made the effort to avoid his brother and yet tresses of blue hair keep getting in his peripheral vision.

“there’s been fatui sightings not far north from the winery,” kaeya’s icy gaze flickers towards the office door that isn’t completely shut, “perhaps we should tell master kaeya—”

“he doesn’t need to know, i’ll deal with it personally.” the deep voice of diluc booms, full of authority and the slightest attitude at the mention of his brother that makes kaeya click his tongue, pocketing the small, circular mora he’d been tossing with his thumb as diluc emerges from the office, the winery worker not far behind.

the brothers exchange a look, perhaps this scenario is all too familiar for them both to let it play out. diluc bites his tongue when he prepares for those words he knows kaeya will say.

“he doesn’t need to know?” kaeya mocks lowkey, a coy smile on his face as he dusts his hands together and approaches the redhead, “i’ll be accompanying you.”

and somehow the fiery red male cannot argue back, his eyes narrowing at his brother in distaste when he accepts his fate - it is raining after all, maybe kaeya’s vision could come in more useful than the cavalry captain typically tends to be, his breath laced with wine.

the brothers set off immediately, heads hanging low as they follow the muddy paths out of the winery; ones they’d followed many times before. something about this reminds them of how accustomed to each other’s presence they are. the reports from various workers at the winery are indeed correct and whilst diluc storms into the fight, vision ablaze with an anger that cannot be sated at the cost of a few mere fatui deaths, kaeya cannot help but ponder if there’s too many of them to take on by themselves.

rain impairs his vision, trickling down his face and soaking his hair to his skin. brandishing a blade in his hand, the young man can't help but think he's seen this before. another crack of lightning brightens the sky as a weapon is plunged into diluc's abdomen, his face pales as ruby eyes meet kaeya's panicked gaze.

the realisation hits when suddenly kaeya sees crepus' face over his brother's. he sees that evening when he arrived a little too late, the air struggling to get to his lungs no matter how he gasps for breath, clouds of breath quick to disperse in front of cold lips. kaeya is quick to finish the remaining enemies off before he's forced to look at diluc's slumped body in the mud.

"diluc?" he whispers, kneeling beside the bleeding man. diluc's gloved hands are pressed to his wound, a grimace on his face, "brother?"

"i heard you the first time," he grumbles, not wanting to admit the warmth that consumes his adrenaline filled heart at the sentiment behind hearing kaeya say brother once again, "..say it again."

kaeya takes a moment, his shaking hands dropping his faithful sword as he presses them over diluc's. he no longer feels the warmth emitting from his brother's pyro vision, his eyes stinging painfully - he blames the rain, of course, it's getting in his eyes.

"brother," it falls from his mouth hurriedly, followed by a quiet curse under his breath, "now isn't the time for this! w-we'll get you to adelinde..."

for the first time in years, a glimpse of a grin crosses the redhead's stoic face. in between shallow breaths and blurry sight, he gazes over the familiarity of his brother's face; blood or not. a final breath escapes his chapped lips in the cold of the night, his last thought going over how he wishes he had fixed things with kaeya sooner.

the cryo vision yells out into the night, quick to pull diluc against his chest as the rain continues to ruthlessly batter down on them. it happened again, he curses, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears blend with the raindrops on his cheeks. it won't happen again.

✉️ mail received! sender: aether & lumine

bound by blood, they have always been as thick as thieves together. no ends of time could stop them, no ends of trials and challenges that cross their paths on the journey to find each other. their determination is honourable across teyvat, seeking each other out as if there is no other person in the universe.

without each other they do not know what to do. after all, what do you do when the person you've travelled long and far with disappears without a trace and you're left with nothing but your wit to find them again?

one attachment added!

"brother!" her voice calls out, excitement coursing through her veins as she hurriedly drops the dull blade she'd sported her whole journey these past few years, traversing nations and fighting gods and others alike in search for her brother. aether does not budge, slumped against a rock overlooking the devastation left of khaerni'ah.

lumine's eyes trail to it, the smoke that rises in shades of grey and black, revealing that the flames still burnt at buildings and civilisation. the ashes still smoulder, hot to the touch as the embers glow and flicker through the air. this is not the khaenri'ah she remembers nor is it most likely the khaenri'ah that dainsleif remembers too - dainsleif.. where is he?

the blonde whips her head around in confusion at the sudden disappearance of the male who'd assisted her journey against the abyss order, solemnly appearing out of nowhere with new information to support her journey. a frown decorates her face before she turns her attention back to aether, her smile replacing her former expression.

"aether?" lumine calls out when her brother is unresponsive - was he mad at her for taking so long? why wasn't he sharing the same excitement as her? she stumbles over, breaking into a sprint towards the boulder her twin brother sat beside her. finally, after all this time, she could hold her brother again. her arms envelope the shoulders of her brother, breathing in that familiar scent mixed with the cursed remnants of smoke and ash that fill the air.

but aether doesn't respond to the hug nor the death tight grip lumine is succumbing him to in all of her excitement. slowly, she raises her head. aether's golden eyes are glazed over, his pupils gone and replaced with white. lumine's smile begins to fade, pulling away from the hug when she realises her brother's warm skin that she craved to touch is instead cold and pale.

the blood that has trickled from the corner of his mouth and seeps from his neck has darkened as it oxidises, speckled with the black ash from the flames that have torched khaenri'ah. the breath hitches in lumine's throat and it's suddenly harder to breathe than it was a few moments ago.

a wail escapes her, screaming into the eerie silence left in the aftermath of death and destruction. there's no one to comfort her, to answer her cries. was it all for nothing? had she journeyed this whole time, endlessly fulfilling everyone else's requests just for a snippet of information attaining to her brother, just to be too late?

✉️ mail received! sender: albedo & klee

klee is too young to remember where albedo comes from or even possibly his master, at least this is what he tells himself. klee merely does not care for the trivial matters revolving around where people come from or where they go - despite missing her mother alice dearly sometimes. no, instead the small girl cares for every face surrounding her in light of her mother’s absence; this is particularly albedo.

the people of mondstadt recognise that potentially the small girl is attached to him, referring to him as her big brother as if rhinedottir had made him specifically for her. and on cold nights atop dragonspine’s summit, dressed from head to toe for warmth, the chalk prince considers it.

with a bubbly personality and bright smile that sends everyone into gasps of awe, klee tends to get what she wants and albedo, as her designated big brother, is also victim to these schemes.

one attachment added!

“klee, don’t stray too far,” albedo chimes, concerned for her safety when sky blue eyes follow the brightly coloured girl’s attire through the bleak backdrop of snow, “it’s not safe.”

stars twinkle endlessly above the pair, shining like gold now that the snowstorm had cleared up and dark grey clouds had rolled away to reveal the night sky. klee stares in awe, the stars seem much clearer out here.

“big brother! look at that star!” klee points a gloved finger up at a particular star and whilst albedo gazes upon it, he’s reminded of the very diamond engraved to his throat. his breath hitches and he pulls his gaze away from the stars, approaching the small girl as to stop her leaving his side for too long.

he’d fell so hopelessly for that innocent grin and sparkling eyes when she begged him to let her stay the night with him on dragonspine - he knows he shouldn’t fear for her life entirely, there was a reason acting grand master jean kept klee tucked away in solitary confinement so much but he still couldn’t help the tense of his muscles when he watches her tread through thick layers of snow.

the silence on dragonspine after snowfall was usually albedo’s favourite thing about being stationed up here alone with his experiments but he found himself holding his breath, gloved hands ready to reach for the small girl every time she steps an inch too far. something seemed off but he denoted it down to him being anxious about klee’s presence on dragonspine.

amidst silence there’s a whistle, almost resembling that of an arrow soaring through air. in confusion, the blond whips his head around - nobody dares to step foot on dragonspine so recklessly, not without confiding in himself and the adventurer’s guild first, so where was that whistling coming from? that’s when klee lets out a piercing squeal into the night.

albedo is quick to turn his head back in klee’s direction, had he been so careless to take his attention from her for mere seconds only for her to end up injured? yet as his lips part to call her name, he catches sight of the young girl pierced in the neck but none other than an arrow.

the chilling air of dragonspine hitches in his throat, burning his lungs when he can’t seem to get oxygen into his body, his eyes burning holes into the sight before him when he falls to his knees beside her. she’s terrified, rasping for breath so heavily that the small clouds of warm breath dispersing at her lips are consistently appearing with sharp intakes.

the usual sparkle of ruby red eyes has been demoted to a glitter of wet liquid spilling from the corners of her eyes, her eyes set on the face of her faithful big brother she adored so heavily. she wants to speak, to call his name despite him being right in front of her but it hurts so much, why isn’t he doing something about it?

albedo only has himself to blame, he thinks when he notices the hillichurls disappearing from the cliffside when they think the threat has dissipated - the exact reason his attire was the colour scheme it was, to blend him in so effortlessly. a scowl crosses his face, tears threatening to spill but he remains strong; he has to for klee’s sake.

“i-i’m sorry,” he croaks out, filled to the brim with a guilt he wishes klee could understand when she lets out a strangled whimper, “i’m so sorry klee.”

he pleads that celestia is kind enough to give him the time to take her to the base of dragonspine, across the river to mondstadt so he can get her help. her blood stains the whites and greys of his clothes, blonde hair spilled over his shoulder as he carries her like she’s shattered porcelain.

by the time he makes it to the adventurer’s guild’s camp, out of the sheer cold that turns his limbs numb in an oddly comforting manner now, klee’s breath has ceased to exist despite all the panicked screams around her lifeless body.

he refuses to leave her body’s side, buried neck deep in a suffocating guilt that none of these people will understand. he blames himself for the death of his own little sister, one of the only people he had after his master left.

#( sealed letters )#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#https-furina #genshin #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #lyney angst #lynette angst #kaeya angst #diluc angst #aether angst #lumine angst #albedo angst #klee angst #genshin x reader

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softandsourcream · 8 months

Text

Stop, you’re losing me~ - one

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Summary: The last time you saw Yoongi wasn't one of your fondest memories. And actually, you thought that after ten years you no longer had any more tears to shed for that memory, for that situation, for him.

What was the problem with meeting him again at his brother's wedding, right?

Right?

pairing: idol! yoongi x vet!f reader.

Words: 9k

genre(s): angst, hurt- comfort, slow burn, fluff, smut (+18) (not this one tho)

au(s): childhood friends - to lovers, idol yoongi, normal vet reader, entertainment industry, denial and resentment.

warnings: curse words, family drama, grief, loss of loved ones, panic/anxiety attacks, damaged mental health, a LOT of struggling. Yoongi is here to help tho♡.

author’s note: just wanna let you all now that I’m so exited that this is out now! Hope you enjoy it and if you have any suggestion just let me know! I don’t bite 🐇. Also, English it’s not my fist language, so please be patient with this dumbass

IMPORTANT: this fic contains a lot of sensitive topics touched upon explicitly. Please, if any of the tags trigger something in you, stop reading. You’re more important, and there is much more content you can consume here. Take care please! ♡

enjoy!

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main masterlist

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“Where are you?”

“Outside.” In fact, he had gotten out of the car a second ago, and he wasn't going to answer, but he didn't know where they were either; the place was exaggeratedly large.

“Get in here then, you're late.”

“I’m at the entrance... where are you?” His voice breathless, he ran a lot in less than 20 minutes.

“Your brother is about to faint, so you’re going to see us easily. The first row.”

Yoongi hung up the phone, and sure enough, it wasn't difficult for him to find his family right at the end of the place. His brother looked around restlessly, probably looking for him or his fiancée, because he knew he was late, but he didn't seem to have started yet either.

His father, on the other hand, observed his brother's concern with the empty gaze he had always had from his seat, blinking slowly without saying much. He smiled a little at the scene (also a little relieved to finally be there) and started walking quickly, straight there, without looking at anyone else.

He greeted some of his aunts from afar, bowed to others he didn't know but greeted him, and ended up meeting his brother's eyes, almost finishing his journey. The concern on his face changed to one of anger, and he approached him as if suddenly he wasn't about to get married and be responsible for a family. His posture was the same as when they played as children, and his mother had to separate them for a toy.

It gave him chills.

“Hel-“

“Where the fuck were you.”

Yoongi frowned exaggeratedly at the bad word, looking at his father, who was watching everything in the same exact spot with the exact same cold and calm eyes.

“You’re not going to say anything to him?”

He didn’t respond, and Yoongi chuckled when his brother insulted him again.

“Calm down, if mom hears you, she-“

“You’re half an hour late, Min.” Finally, his father, mad. He can tell just by his voice. Yoongi shrank from the scolding and grimaced, looking at his brother.

“I’m sorry.” One. Sooner than he expected “They didn’t let me go sooner.” Greum-Jae didn't even seem interested in hearing an excuse; Yoongi had never seen him so angry before. But he still dared to continue speaking. “I get you’re mad, and I’m sorry, but don’t be mad with me right now. This is your day, we can fight later, and I’m here. I’m really sorry, for real, it wasn't my intention to ruin this for you.”

“Now it’s my job to be calm?” Jae fled from his touch. “To ignore your mistakes? You literally have one job.”

“I know I- I don’t have any other excuse, okay? I’m really sorry.”

Two.

It was subtle, but after a moment, his gaze softened, and so did his body, which was the most noticeable. Jae hugged him, and Yoongi smiled sadly, because he did feel bad, but, of course, it wasn’t the time to show it.

“You’re lucky she’s late too, and that I’m in a good mood right now.” He knows. “Missed you…”

“Me too.” His smell, his hugs, his voice. His home. He missed. “You are in a good mood, though? You look like you're about to throw up.”

He hit his shoulder, breaking the hug and getting closer to his father. Yoongi says hi to him without receiving a response, of course. He looked older and tired, which made him think about how long he had not set foot in that city. He squeezed his fist, unsettled. “I’m nervous; of course I look like that.”

Yoongi was going to ask why, genuinely interested, because he didn't understand why he should be nervous. He wasn't supposed to do anything more than 'yes, I do' and be with the person he loves most for the rest of his life. He also understood that, from the context, Yoongi would never understand it, and he didn't feel like doing it either. Also, he shouldn't be that direct, so he swallowed his question and leaned with both hands on the empty chair next to his father, placing all his weight on his arms.

He wanted to ignore the fact that he felt watched. There were a lot of people there. He hadn't taken a look to see how much he knew and how much he didn't, that was an activity he would leave for when they were dancing and there was less light. Right now he knew that everyone was looking at him, and he didn't like it because, although it was a family and private event, he couldn't completely ignore it. Photos of him would still come to light. It was, in fact, one of the discussions he had with the company days before.

“Your brother doesn't want to hear you, but I do. What is more important than your brother’s wedding now?”

Shit.

Jae was now talking to someone who came to tell him news about Eun, and he had walked away. He could only hear the echo of people talking, laughing, and happiness. Yoongi didn't want to have that conversation right now.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“You’re being unfair right now.”

The man sighed.

“I’m just asking, Yoongi." And his voice sounds different too, so Yoongi didn’t like it. “If I’m not right, why don’t you tell me? You know I know when you're right, and I'm not. I'm not stubborn, you're locking yourself in."

Yoongi wrinkled his nose because he was right in a way, and he hated that it was like that. It was true; he didn't know why he felt so cornered all of a sudden. Stretching his arms and looking at the ground, he became a little dizzy. His whole body suddenly hurt; maybe all the fatigue of those months came upon him.

“Working.” He was honest even so, knowing what was coming. His father didn’t move in any sense. “I was working, but it wasn't'more important than this’. They wouldn't let me go, for real.”

“You didn’t take a day off?”

“I can’t. I’m on tour right now, and I asked permission, but you know that they’re not flexible with the times.

“Just like your mother's birthday. Or every Christmas.” He sounds sad now, almost disappointed. Mad, but really sad. “We invite you, but you never come. Your brother was shaking yesterday. He really wanted to see you.”

There was silence. A big one, where you could still hear the murmurs of the people, the echo of the grandeur of the place, the clicking of heels, and the shy laughter. He gave them both time to realize where they were, that they were in suits, and that, after all, he hadn't seen that man in a long, long time.

Yoongi's apology stuck in his throat—another genuine apology.

A third.

“I'm sorry, son.” His father says instead. Yoongi had heard it a few times in his 30s. “I understand. We understand, but... we always do. Me, your mother, and your brother today. He has all the right to be mad; we all are, but you’re doing your best, and we’re getting old too.” This time he looked at him, smiling a little. Yoongi does too, but his was a sad one. “Just don’t forget about your family. I just hope I make it to your wedding too.”

“Pff.” They laughed, and the son nodded, his nose still wrinkled just thinking about it. “I can only do the first one, sorry. That’s why Jae did it first. Maybe I don't invite you to a wedding, but you have been sitting more than once watching me in a stadium with more people than here.” He looked at his brother with his eyes. He continued talking to that woman, nodding, biting his lip, having an awful time, and if it wasn't bad, then something questionable. Yoongi could swear his palms were sweating. “I honestly don't feel like... being that worried.”

His father looked nothing in the front, with a smirk on his face. Yoongi realized how old he turned again.

“You just haven't found the right person to be like this for.”

That doesn’t sound like his father. At all.

He looked at him again and couldn't say anything when his brother was already in front of them, smiling and wiping the sweat from his hands.

He knew it.

“She’s about to arrive, take your seat.”

Yoongi left the back of the chair where there was supposed to be another person there who wasn't there, and frowning, he looked around the room without really doing it, realizing that he was missing someone to greet.

“Where’s mom?”

And as if he hadn't been listening to laughter, murmurs, and voices of people for ten minutes that filled his ears non-stop, right after that question, a specific laugh seemed to answer his doubt, reversing his pressure and causing a strong shiver to run down the back of his neck.

He turned quickly, perhaps even a little disbelievingly, and then, he saw you.

Not his mother, though. Or yes, her too, but his eyes fell on you first because it was always like that, because that was your laugh, and because it was impossible not to.

Far away. The possibility of having heard your laughter was quite unlikely, even impossible. Seven or eight rows back. Of course, you were wearing baby blue, delicate, and tight. The fabric didn’t shine like your gloves do, and you had your long hair loose, tied up from the top just a little. You laughed heartily, teeth on display, his mother being the cause of your smile and your bright eyes. Such honest and grateful happiness, because why not, you both looked exaggeratedly happy to be in front of each other again. Her mother held your hands tightly, moving them up and down in time with her words, and you just nodded and responded briefly.

His heart stopped. He could swear he had even forgotten to breathe.

Yoongi didn't enjoy eye contact.

He usually runs away from it. He feels stupid, and he gets embarrassed quickly. It's a tense situation for him, but he was wishing with all his might that you two had it at that moment. That his eyes were heavy enough for you to turn to look at him and take a good look at you because your eyes had always been big and expressive, and he needed to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating.

At least that's what they were like the last time he saw them, so many years ago that he couldn't count them, and from what he saw from there, many things had changed.

You look breathtaking. You've always looked this pretty, but right now…

He didn't know if it was because he hadn't seen you in person for many years, up close, but unpleasant things were happening to him. His legs trembled when you finally looked back. Big eyes, make-up on, pretty color, and they opened, your moves frozen, and somehow, you two had an extremely uncomfortable visual conversation, as if you were face to face, and you didn't know what to say.

To his surprise, your gaze quickly changes to a more confident, almost cold look, and you bow with extreme lightness to say hello without intending to break contact. However, his mother did, hugging goodbye to you as soon as everyone started tidying up, music started playing, and Yoongi was forced to sit down, trembling, sweating, and unfocused, remembering how you looked.

He was there again, in real life, in Daegu, where he was born and grew up, where it was hot and dangerous to go out at night, where they used to live, and where he used to get lost when he could.

He had arrived that morning, but his brother, his parents, and you brought him back home.

“Shit.”

Not in a comfy, lullaby way. More like a cold water falling from the sky directly on the ground/ type of way.

He was there. You were there, feeling better than him, of course, but you don’t know. You had the whole month to mentally prepare for that reunion. Obviously you had a better handle on it, but you were also shaking, and you had to take a couple of breaths before you were ready for the wedding.

“Good?”

Seun was next to Greum when everything happened, in a way waiting as a spectator. Both in silence, from afar. Now he was waiting for you to respond, so he could start the recording in case you said something compromising. Both of you were in your assigned seats, with Jae at the altar.

“If it’s better than him, then yes, I’m great.” He laughed and checked at the entrance in case Eun was peeking out. He wanted to see her dress. You shake your shoulders, trying not to look in his direction again, releasing tension.

“Well, I don’t judge him. Jae didn’t tell him you were here.”

You scoff, “He didn’t? We're some show to you two or something?” putting your brother's arm away (with more force than necessary. It bothers you that he didn't take seriously how you felt. More now that you were especially sensitive) so you can record properly. The music began to overwhelm you a bit.

Now. Suddenly they were all in order, therefore quieter, so you two had to continue the conversation in whispers. Jae was waiting for his future wife; the doors of the place were open, but nothing was happening yet.

“He told me months ago that he wasn’t sure if he would arrive. The invitation was made, but he hasn't seen him for almost a year. When-“ he stops, unlocking his phone that had turned off for not pressing record yet, making you smile. Your older brother reminded you a lot of your father sometimes, and you rarely saw him so excited and well groomed at the same time. Your dress color and his suit matched too. His idea. “When Yoongi confirmed he was coming, Jae didn’t have the time to tell him. So yeah,” you looked at him when he did, blinking. “I know he’s feeling a lot of things right now.”

Well, that was weird.

That doesn’t sound like Yoongi, Yoongi loves his brother, his family, at least the one you know.

The type of relationship you had now (null) didn't allow you to say that out loud, and, strictly speaking, you didn't understand his reaction either. He looked genuinely surprised; it shouldn't affect him if he was the one who broke everything in the first place. You assumed it had just been the surprise, and it would take you a good stretch of the night to be able to let go of the fact that they were there, so close but so far, to let go of the possibilities of talking, hugging him, and telling him how much you had missed him, know about him, how he handled things. Just as before. Because it didn't help you to think like that, and because how pretty and beautiful your best friend looked right now, happy, in white, and excited, couldn't be placed on anything else.

You hoped you could breathe in peace for the rest of the night. Although at some point you thought you could do it without problems, because once you wiped away the tears that came out of you when you saw Eun enter and the ceremony took place, between your brother talking to you, you were laughing at him because he had also cried halfway through. On the way, the rest of your family arrived, and an inexplicable happiness that ran through you as you were surrounded by so many people that you knew and hadn't seen in years consumed you, your head stayed busy. A lot, and you still had it in mind, but you were not alone, and that made you feel good, safe, and a little calmer.

It was easy for you not to give him your night. At least the first part of it.

Apparently, after the ceremony, the party, and celebration would take place in the same place. You weren't really surprised, in fact, it moved you even more because the place was gigantic, very tall, and beautiful, almost like a theater, and there were many, many people, enough to fill the place. Not in a suffocating way, but enough to get lost. It was mostly of age, older people, maybe grandparents you hadn't managed to meet before, and then there were people directly younger, but you knew those, Seun was a people butterfly. Friends of theirs, you assumed. Actually, Seun stopped explaining who the boy was sitting next to one of her good friends when a man, tall and good-looking, started to talk on a microphone.

“Now, now, and congratulating the bride and groom once again, we would like to call the loved ones of both to say a few words before the fun part starts.

Everyone laughed, and Seun looked at you. You forgot about that part.

“Let’s start with the parents…”

“I can go for you instead.”

“It’s okay.” You smile. You knew that he was doing his best to be able to contain you, and give you the best company, despite the fact that it was not easy for him. “I’m not made of glass.” You joke, listening to Eun’s mother speak already.

And well, for him, you were. At least right now, but he didn’t say it, scoffing to hide his thoughts. “I’m trying to be good. Dad it’s watching now, I have to be an example.”

“For what.”

“Shut up, don’t be disrespectful.”

You try not to laugh. He was nervous now. You never understood why it was so difficult for him to admit that he cared for others. Not even with Jae he dared to do it, or at least that's what you thought. You didn't know how he would tell the truth in his speech.

You were the last one. You knew this because when you arrived, Jae told you. Eun wasn't supposed to know you were there. Of course, she had invited you, but she didn't know if you would finally attend because you hadn't been able to communicate with anyone these last few months. You met once, when she came to see you at your house, but you couldn't talk about much. You were on another planet, it was like your head was disconnected from your body most of the time, and she assumed you wouldn't go.

You wanted to think that she hadn't seen you when she passed, but you doubted it. With the amount of people there, and with how focused she was on Jae, it was impossible.

Still, you were nervous. When you accepted, you didn't think you would be in front of so many people. Your heart was beating.

“Is that Yoongi?” Nara, your sister, asked your mother just behind you when he got position and greeted everyone.

“Yeah. Why he wouldn't?” Your mom responded a bit confused. You could hear her smile.

“I think you all were joking when you told me he was on BTS, for real. It doesn’t look at all like the Yoongi I knew.” You hear a laugh, a gentile one, and then your other brother making fun of her behind. Your dad scolds them.

Now, you take advantage of the moment to take a better look at him.

You wanted to blame it on the fact that your sister was only nine when she met Yoongi, and every time he appeared on TV or in videos she was told it was him, she just couldn't believe it. You just hoped those were her blurry memories of him, because you couldn't see him too differently from how you remembered it.

Maybe his hair was longer, he was paler, taller, his back had grown considerably, and he had that special glow that any celebrity would have. He looked like an entire adult now, too. He wore expensive clothes and good shoes, although he didn't seem to have put any effort into his hair, or his appearance in general, he looked incredibly unreal, so much that it makes you angry.

If you thought about it enough, and if you didn't know it was him, you would’ve struggled to recognize him too. You often saw him in magazines, posters, on buildings in Busan, on train pamphlets, on your cell phone and even in medicine, but seeing him in person was overwhelming. It was like seeing a stranger you already knew, but better yet, he was there, but at the same time he wasn't.

You take a deep breath when you realize that, despite all those things, his features were still just as soft and delicate, just like his mother's.

His knuckles still turned red without much effort, and he smiled the same way, making that slight pout with his lips before crying, trying to contain it, and he wiped the tears carelessly. You found your Yoongi in the one you were looking at right now, with little things, with gestures, with details that you used to admire more than necessary, they were still there.

and it made you feel nauseous.

You blinked a few times, snapping out of your trance as everyone applauded, and realized you hadn't heard a single word. He had even cried, and you didn't know why. You saw Jae stand up as he was called to take position on the small stage, and a much louder round of applause made you jump lightly. They came from behind, just that young section that assumed they were friends of both. There were a lot of people, and it didn't surprise you that Seun was already fooling around on his way to the small stage there.

“How are you feeling, blossom?"

Your father asked, taking advantage of the fact that you turned around to look at the crowd and that your brother was not there. They were both looking at you, and the rest of your brothers were talking among themselves.

“I'm okay.” It wasn't necessarily a lie. You felt just as bad as you do every day. Besides, you knew that they were referring to something more specific (Min Yoongi) than to your general emotional state, so you smiled slightly, closed, and placed your hand on your mother's, who was on your arm. “I’m good; don’t worry.”

As you predicted, Seun's speech was so unserious and absurd that it's not worth dwelling on. For some reason, everyone was laughing with him, he had livened up the atmosphere and unintentionally infected everyone with joy.

He soon returned to his seat and sat still with applause in the background. You couldn't believe it.

“I don’t get why he’s still your friend.”

“We’re in love, sister.” He asure. “This wedding is for three people. They will never get rid of me.”

“Shut up.”

“Now.” The good-looking man says “Briefly before eating and doing fun things, we have one more person who wants to wish you both the best, of course.”

You can see Eun’s confused look at her husband now, and he quickly grabs her hand. Your heart was ricing, you felt your mother's hand on your shoulder.

“Park ___, please."

Eun almost jumped from her seat, looking around, looking for you. You also saw someone else look for you in the crowd when you were getting up a little stiff because of your dress. You say sorry to an old woman right in front of you, who you accidentally hit softly because Seun didn’t move at the right moment.

“Oh my god.”

You didn't have time to get halfway down the hall to the front when a large white dress ran towards you to hug you. You smiled at the impact because you were a little taken aback by how strong it came and how big her dress was. You smiled when you already had her in your arms.

“You have been here all this time?”

“Of carouse.”

“Oh my god, thank you…” she softly says, hugging you even harder.

“I wouldn’t miss the happiest moment of your life.”

Because it had cost you, but you had arrived. Was she crying? Thank goodness people were still clapping because of the moving nature of the situation, and they couldn't hear you. You were trying so hard not to cry too.

If you did it, you wouldn't stop.

“I know you-“

“It’s okay.” You stopped her. “I’m okay.”

You squeezed her waist as a signal for you to start moving, and she moved away from you to caress your face lovingly and look at you like... most people have looked at you lately with pity and kissed your forehead.

Pity.

She took your hand, and the entire way, you could feel Yoongi's gaze on you. From the moment she hugged you until she kissed you and started leading you forward, like an exhibition, heavy, right next to you. He made you feel small, it was silly.

“Now stop crying; I haven't said anything yet.” You start, with the microphone in your hands, making everybody laugh, the couple too, Jae helping her with the tears. The place was in silence, the lights, the eyes, and the attention were just on you. So you take a deep breath and unfold the paper you’ve got prepared. “I- uh~” a sigh. “I don’t know how people do this without crying, I- okay.” You were nervous, but the place laughed again, so it gave you time to breathe.

“I still remember you both being taller than me, smarter than me, and older than me. I know that deep down all of you were so done of me, right behind there too,” all those people scream from behind, and you laugh. “because I used to talk a lot, and I carry my toys everywhere, so I can show it to all of you, and I made too many questions for people who are starting to be teenagers and want to look cool, but I wasn’t. I didn’t even care, I remember that. I was the pain in the ass that comes with Seun. Just a plus because Seun it’s a bother himself.” The aforementioned rolled his eyes, and you waited for there to be silence so you could continue. “I understand that now, and I just came here to apologize.”

The atmosphere after the laughter was now a little solemn, and in contrast to your brother, you were capable of poisoning the things you touched, and those who knew you knew that. You could see the newlyweds were a little worried, but you kept smiling, giving them confidence that nothing bad was going to happen. At least that wasn't your intention.

“Sorry for being the impediment for you to go out late at night or for having to return early from wherever we were... I- was with you.” Uh. You try to keep the smile. Shit, “sorry for being so annoying, and sorry for the fact that I didn't care. Because as much as I didn't like being with you sometimes, the best part of my day was watching you eat at my table, or Mrs. Min organizing my birthdays, and everyone coming with gifts that I genuinely liked because you all heard what I was saying even if I was giving you a headache.”

Unintentionally, you met those eyes again from afar, just when you were trying to control that lump in your throat because the worst part was coming, and you didn't know if you were ready. You said the following while still looking at Yoongi, not at you, surprisingly. “I miss it. I really do, and I’m so grateful that I carry all that with me.”

You look at the paper, change the page, and breathe. So you try once “I-“ and twice. “I- um…” a shaking breath sounds everywhere, reading the words, but you just can’t. “Sorry~” you're softly trying to laugh as you cry start, and you feel so stupid for breaking in front of a lot of people. No because it was bad, everybody there cried before you, but not because of the same thing.

“I love you!” You didn’t know who it was, but you smiled and responded with a really quiet and shaking'me too', giving you time to breathe as everybody laughed, and the atmosphere eased.

“Okay.” You say more to yourself, but you have a mic on your mouth, of course. “I didn’t write this part alone. Kija he… he is my twin, so of course he was with me in all of this story, but when he got sick and we were writing this months ago, he told me that I didn’t mention him in all this because it was going to be about me, not him… he’s kinda dumb.”

You laugh, trying not to tear up. You were holding the next tears, but like, fighting demons and everything to not cry. You, for real, didn’t want to cry in front of all those people. Your voice was obviously trapped in your chest, and it was shaking, but you couldn't do anything but breathe. You just have to be quick.

“But he told me that he wanted to tell you both that he and I were very proud to have seen you grow together, hate each other together, and deny that you liked each other together and today, for me, seeing you two married means a lot. I adore you two with all my heart. Congratulations, and I know you’re going to do a great job. I'm sure Kija would have done a better job telling him in person, but I'm here for him, so you know. He would- have loved to come, I have no doubt. Be happy, please, and no babies yet; I’m not ready.”

You didn’t remember anything after that, which means two things:

One, you need to calm down because two, you weren’t fine.

You remember the hug, and a few words both of them told you, and all the looks people gave you just after that, full of sadness and compassion (which was the first thing that made you want to run away). And at the party, you dance because you enjoy it, and you feel a little better, but people stop you all the time to give you their condolences because “they didn’t know”.

The cake was cut, the presentation was done, and you could only come back to the moment when you had your first drink of whiskey, and your body told you that it wasn’t a good idea. Your heart was fast in your chest, that would only make it worse with alcohol.

You need to breathe.

“Sorry, what?!”

You scream behind the music. Some girl named Hwan stopped you. (It came right at the beginning, when Seun was next to you, and you were pretending to listen to how she had recently graduated. Poor girl, honestly, she looks kind and lovely.) with two glasses of tequila and some salt in her hand.

“My friend!” She said. “I lost him, so take this!”

And then:

“Hurry! I have to go for more before they run out!” You were too agitated for this. This is a bad idea ___. “c’mon c’mon honey!”

Your hands were tingling, your breathing was short, and you were afraid. You had tried to go to the bathroom, but it was full, and it was even more claustrophobic than all those people. Right next to it, there were some stairs that you assumed went up to the balconies that surrounded the place. You were very grateful that it was high, enough to encapsulate the music on the floor below, and you heard it as if you were listening from a glass.

Or was it you?

You leaned on the railing and began to sweat. You closed your eyes, trying to calm down little by little, to look for things to think about, to feel something other than fear and anguish at the same time, but it was impossible, completely, and that made you even more desperate. You were breathing as if you had just run for two hours non-stop, and there came a point where your legs couldn't support your body. You couldn't feel your hands, cried a lot, trying to catch air, moaned in terror.

“please please please… stop just-“

You were trying not to faint, you were on the edge of a high place, and it was now dark for those below. It was when you felt like you really couldn't do anything. That you tried to stand back in case your body gave way forward, and it wasn't more dangerous when you felt hands on your stomach directly and the warmth of a body behind you.

A warm feeling that felt like burning on a straight fire

“Easy~ here,” you heard, far away from you, just like the music in a glass. The only thing that told you that he was literally glued to you was his touch. “Can you feel my hand?” You didn't respond, trying to run away. You didn’t want to be touched. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe. If you want to feel better, you have to answer me, okay?”

“Hmm” a moan full of pain, was not even an answer.

“Okay?” They asked again. This time you nodded and felt the hand move on your stomach, the fingers more than anything, like playing a piano. Soft, but rough at the same time. “Can you feel it?” Your two hands were placed on his in an attempt to find support; you couldn't feel your legs, and after giving him an affirmative answer with your head, you complained again, your head was about to explode. “Move my hand with your stomach as you breathe.” And you did. Erratic and desperate “That’s good, but try it slower. Focus on moving it, not on breathing.”

“I- I ca-“

"Yes, you can. You do it every day; come on.”

You know, you just didn’t want to be there.

You try your best to move his hand. It was hard because you were sobbing, and trying your best to not think too much. So you closed your eyes, exhausted, and concentrated on the warmth that the stranger was giving you and the hold that, while at first it felt overwhelming and suffocating, now it helped. You felt stronger, even though you were about to faint.

So you moved the hand, and it worked.

“Good~ breathe.”

The air filled your lungs little by little, your head began to quiet, and the music entered your ears at a decent volume considering how far you were from the ground. Your hands were cold, they were shaking, but you could move them, and you still couldn't feel your legs, but you could hear the trembling of your breathing and how your nervous system was trying to regulate itself, blocking your crying in your chest.

You were exhausted, god, you would sleep there if you could.

“Better?”

And then you realize.

You know that voice.

It was soft, deep, and in your ear. So close that if you turned to see him, both of you would collide. His hands were bigger than they used to be and softer to the touch, pale on your baby blue dress, no scrapes like you used to heal, he’s no longer biting his nails.

‘Shit’

“Don’t touch me.” You said. He tense.

“If I let you go, you will fall. You're not even holding yourself up.”

He was right. And you hate it.

“What are you doing here.”

Your voice sounded agitated, almost like a whisper. You still didn't dare open your eyes; your eyelids were heavy, and the fear of facing him so close made you delirious. Even though you had your back turned to him, you felt him snort.

“God. You’re welcome?” You clung tighter to his hand. It's just that you got dizzy, and he held you when he felt you give way to the left. “I should ask that. You almost passed out on the railing, idiot, that's… fucked up.”

He calls you an idiot? You were too weak to call him something worse.

So you only say "sorry." Instead, letting him go finally, and you tried to stand up by yourself, but you wobbled

“Okay, okay, please don’t. I’m gonna…” His hands took place on your hips to guide you to some chairs in the corner, which you didn't see at first, of course. You weren't sure if his touch hurt more now that you were more conscious or before, when you were overstimulated. Felt the same, honestly. “Be careful, they look old.” You walked as he commanded, and once you sat down, you heard him say something you couldn't decipher. You finally opened your eyes to ask, but there was no sign of anyone.

Sighing, you rested your head in your hands and closed your eyes again. You didn't know if you were still dizzy and weak or if you felt that way because you were already drunk. They both make sense to you.

You heard noise after a few seconds and looked up. Finally, Yoongi's silhouette appeared in the hallway, he had things in his hands, and he was looking at the glass of water, concentrating so that nothing would fall on the floor.

“I’m definitely too drunk for this.”

This can't be happening to you. Could not.

“I put ice on it, so you can chew. It will help.”

His voice sounded unfriendly to what he was saying. Not angry or indifferent, but rather nervous and tense, as if he were speaking by opening his mouth a little, trying to make you believe that it was no a big deal, as always, but his nervousness didn't allow him to fool you. You raised your eyes to look at his, and he turned them away once you brought them together. You tried to hide a smile as you received the glass. Of course, he couldn't look you in the eyes. He cleared his throat, finally watching you receive the water, trembling in your hold. He tries to hold it from below in case you drop it.

You took a sip.

“Your makeup is smudged.”

Of course. You must have been looking stupid.

“What is that?"

He was offering you something, like toilet paper, but softer on a package. You couldn't see very well, it was just white.

“I’m not really sure.” He confesses. “I take them from the bathroom. They’re damp.”

You touch it with two of your fingers, just to not be rude, honestly.

“Thanks, but I can’t really see myself here.” There was no mirror, and if there was, it was dark. The only lights there were those on the dance floor, which were colored and did not shine directly on the place you two were having this... moment. “I don’t really care though, I’m living soon anyway”

He didn't insist, putting the package in his pocket. You maintained a silence that would have been more awkward if the music downstairs wasn't on, and if you didn't have anything to chew at that moment. Neither of you dared to look at each other, or start a conversation because it wasn't even enough for something cordial. You didn't have the strength to get up and run away, but just when you were going to tell him that you were okay, and he could leave, he took something out of his pocket.

Now you are invested.

“You mind if I smoke?”

You looked at him from there, taking time to process the information. You shook your head slightly, maybe even confused, but there was no point in being.

“Can you even smoke here?”

The place was big but closed, you didn't know if it was allowed.

“I doubt it.”

“Since when do you smoke?” You dared to ask.

“I don’t.”

No, because he hates the smell. His mother has smoked since ever. Yoongi hates that the smell gets stuck in everything and everywhere. No matter how much his mother smoked outside the house, he always ended up with his school clothes smelling like cigarettes. It was inevitable. He always complained.

There you were watching him right now, right in profile, blowing smoke from his cigarette as if he did it every day, even though he said he doesn't. Arms resting on the railing, well-dressed, looking anywhere but at you.

You wanted to stop assuming that this Yoongi was the same one who had left years ago. Because you didn't know, you were both two completely new people, total strangers who knew nothing about each other, yet, you wanted to think that, if that were the case, he would have already left. He usually walks away from what he doesn't care about or doesn't like, that's what he did with you when he left, because that's how you felt. It was nice to believe that he was now there himself because he wanted to be, but it didn't help you to think about it, not now. Just because he was there didn't mean he was back in your life, and as silly as it sounded, your brain didn't understand that. It was your job to stop him from believing something like that.

You chew ice.

“I don’t want to ruin the party for you. Go ahead.” Your voice is still dumb. He was watching the people dancing from there, now he was looking at you, smoking the cigarette between his fingers without understanding what you meant. “I’m feeling better, you can go.”

“Okay.” He directed his body directly towards you. Unintentionally intimidating. “Do you want me to go?”

His presence made you anxious.

“Yes. But if I’m honest, I don’t really want to be alone right now.” He hums. “But I have seven siblings, and all of them are downstairs right now. I can call any of them.”

“They will scold you for not saying anything and me for not seeking help.”

“I know.” He looked at you, quietly. “I just don’t want to... keep you here. Have some fun.”

He shook his head, looking away.

“It’s okay. I was here first, drinking. Then you came. You scared me.”

You blink a few times. “You’ve spent all the night in here?”

“Most of it.” You followed his eyes down on the first floor, full of people. You could see everything from there. If you focused on one person, you could easily track them. “Enough to watch you dance and get drunk.”

“Creep.” He smiles a little.

“That’s why I wasn’t sure it was you. I went to get my whiskey, and I swear I saw you two minutes before taking a shot of tequila. I thought you were just drunk.”

You frowned, settling into the couch. You felt genuinely bad.

“Now I’m scared. For real.”

“Not intentional. I can literally watch my brother kiss Eun from here every five minutes, even if I don’t want to.” Yoongi plays with his ice, then drinks the rest in one go.

You gulped.

Thinking about it more was counterproductive for your mental health, you knew it, you understood it, it was practically self-sabotage, but right now, you gave yourself perhaps ten seconds to admire the beauty that Min Yoongi carried all by himself.

He looked so different, and everything that had changed elevated his beauty to places... god. You had met at a very young age too, in years, you could also say that you had changed enough to be mentioned at some point by a family member who hadn't seen you in a while, for example. You are an adult now, but it was impressive.

To think that you stopped seeing Yoongi right when he was being built into an idol says a lot. Everything about him looked expensive and well cared for, his soft hair, smooth skin, long eyelashes, immaculate hands, as if they were not obliged to do anything that would harm them. How his throat moved as the drink passed into his system, the lack of reaction of his features despite being strong, and having drunk almost half of the short glass.

The feeling that rose to your stomach made you come back, and from well-being, it turned into discomfort in your chest. He was there, he looked so attractive, and you couldn't do anything.

You couldn’t hug him, tell him how much you missed him and hit him nonstop because even when you’re still so into him, you were hurt too, and this situation was so out of your hands.

“I’d liked your speech. It was good.”

You wanted to tell him that you hadn't done it alone, but why would you do that? You didn't answer.

“You’re still writing?”

This time, you denied it almost instinctively. The truth is, you didn't want to give additional information to, in a way, a stranger, but you had already screwed up. “No. A long time ago I-“ stopped when you left, but of course you kept quiet.

When it was about Yoongi and whether you thought about the young you who loved that person in front of you so much and how dependent you were on someone who didn't care how you felt, it made you feel so stupid. And it didn't really make sense because you were young and inexperienced, and you had an important bond, so of course you will be hurt, you had more compassion than resentment. But still,

“-just don’t do it anymore.”

You didn't want to feel that weak again. He nodded.

“Why haven't you left if you don't want to be here?” You changed the topic. You weren't looking at him, but you felt his attention return to you, and he responded with his silence, then you looked up, and he avoided you again. “You're still not a party guy?” He didn't respond again, knowing that you knew the answer, so you smiled. “Yeah, you weren't either back then.” You say that just for yourself.

“I want to, though. Hyung it’s happy, and I haven't seen my family in a long time. My dad told me he was waiting for my wedding too. I stayed so maybe the event convinced me.”

“Your dad?” He nodded in disbelief as well. “That doesn’t sound like your dad. And also, the event?” A snort left your mouth as he looked at you, nodding. “ I don’t think it’s just about the event, you know?”

“Yeah. He told me that too.”

You laughed this time. You like that men.

“That doesn’t sound like him either.”

“I know.”

You missed Yoongi’s parents. They were so different from yours.

“You were, I remember.”

“What.”

“A party person. I always went with you and watched you dance because I didn't like it. Then we would leave late and buy ice cream at the convenience store downtown because you always craved some.” You nodded, trying to manage the pain that the memory caused you. “I've never seen you cry in one before.”

You played with the ice that was left, because the question was not directly a question, it was more of a mention, perhaps so as not to ignore what just happened. He knew you wouldn't answer and that you shouldn't either. You wrinkled your nose, uncomfortable.

“Where do you learn all of it?”

Containment, you meant.

“Hm.” He took a second. “These ten years have been interesting.” A laugh, and you try your best again. “I saw a member of our staff do it to Jungkook once, the first time. We were very young, but I’ve never forgotten it in case it happened again. It happened a couple of times after that, so I… know.”

And it's as if the anguish you had come back to you once you touched where his hands were for the first time in 10 years, and you had to close your eyes just because you felt upset. You didn't want to be there, you remembered. Not only because you didn't want to see him, but because you didn't feel well, and you put him over your emotions again.

Fucking hell.

“Your brother it’s looking for you.” You nodded, opening your eyes slightly.

“Of course he is…” you murmured, overwhelmed, trying to stand up. But you were feeling bad again, so you waited a little.

“Do you want me to-“

“No.”

You didn't know why you were so angry all of a sudden. Your heart was beating again, you started to feel warm even though the place was quite cold because of how big it was, and you were actually grateful that they cared about you, but you had spent all those months feeling like a burden to others.

You tried not to cause too many problems, you didn't want that kind of attention, especially after having been living alone, away from your family for so long, to live with them again. You went from making your own food to your mother having to sit next to you so you could eat something. From leaving early to work to not even knowing what time it was. From calling them to tell them good things, to having to pretend to sleep so as not to receive questions you didn't want to answer. You couldn't take care of yourself, it was something that you were having a hard time facing, because you wanted to do it, to be well so as not to be the burden of your family, but the pain you had was still just as big, and heavy, and it enveloped your entire chest. Squeezing. It didn't let you swallow, speak, cry, or breathe.

You were crying again. This time in silence, you didn't care that Yoongi was watching you in silence too, not knowing what to do.

"Where's the… dump thing you bought.”

He reacted a little slowly but quickly, searching for it, taking it out of his jacket pocket. You nodded.

“Can you clean my face, please? I don’t want to look like this when he finds me, and he will if I go to the bathroom right now.”

That one seemed to get him out of somewhere, because it did take him longer to process the information. He was standing with the towels in his hand and blinking, almost like a cat, a confused one. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think you had said anything wrong, so you got scared, and you wondered if maybe you, in fact, said something wrong.

“I can try, though. You don’t-“

“I’ll do it.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of you. You can smell his strong and manly cologne, and if you raised your eyes to his face enough, you could see him up close, closer than you had for many years again. Older, smelling that way, his marked features but you didn't. Of course not.

You close your eyes.

The two of you were silent, and it took you a few minutes to begin to feel the softness with which he ran over your face, the left side of your cheek, extremely light, almost afraid to touch you. You opened your eyes, and he wasn't looking where he was supposed to clean.

He looked at your face, carefully, perhaps making sure it was really you who was in front of him. He stopped his hand when your eyes connected, and it lasted only a few seconds, but you felt so much tension that you even doubted if it was wrong for you to pretend as if you didn't have things to talk about, before having any kind of contact. Whatever it was.

After that, he looked at you with pity.

The last one that night, you decide.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You were stronger than him when it came to holding a gaze. He has always been the first to escape, which is why your gaze was very intense, heavy, and powerful. You could do it because you felt it was the most honest way to know if someone could handle you.

“Sorry.”

Yoongi had never been able to look at you for more than five seconds.

He resumed his work with the same smoothness. The music returned to your ears, and you returned to your place, to your life, to the now and to how your body was screaming to get out of there. You closed your eyes, chest tight and hands tense, trying to control their shaking.

You have bigger things to cry about right now than this. You had done it for a long time now; you had no more tears to cry for Min Yoongi, no reason to be nervous anymore, and no reason why you couldn't live in peace anymore.

“I’m sorry about Kija.” His voice was smooth, almost lullaby. He sounds nervous too, and just because of that, your response was also automatic. If it had been genuine, you would have had another panic attack right there.

“It’s okay.”

‘You are grieving. Don't expect anything better. Let us help you’

They were all grieving too.

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t- I didn’t know.”

There. Was there when you wanted to scream and punch him so hard enough to make him feel guilty.

“What do you mean.” To be honest, it doesn't even surprise you. You sensed it, but you had the small hope that he saw it… at least. “I texted you. Jae- he give me your number. I was waiting for you at his funeral.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s okay.”

You said instead. Yoongi looked terrified.

“I-“ he cut himself. “…was-“

You take his hand softly, stopping him. “It’s okay, Yoongi.”

“Wait.” One of his hands is on your wrist, preventing you from getting up. You didn't feel good, but you would do anything to get out of there. Still, you sat back down because you didn’t expect it.

“I’m sorry.”

Three.

The only thing you could hear was your heart beating; everything went quiet, and the words went away, an echo.

“It’s” You were far enough away to miss his scent or to see his new appearance. It was as if he disappeared into the darkness. “okay.”

And it was okay, not because that was exactly how it was, but because it didn't matter. It was okay because it didn't matter if he responded or not, he didn't have to. You were the one who was doing wrong by continuing to trust someone who had already failed you many times, and now you were choosing not to fall for anything sure.

It was okay, because there was no important bond that bonded you two, and allowed you to do bad things where there was nothing good to destroy.

And it was okay, because you simply didn't want to continue having him in front of you, talking about one of the most important people in your life, and seeing how he looked at you with pity. So it was okay.

But Yoongi had said sorry three times that day, and he hadn't been able to genuinely fix any of them.

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teaser masterlist two

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#yoongi au #yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #bts headcanons #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi series #min yoongi #slow burn

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they-call-me-emmy · 6 months

Text

The Past is The Past

Part One above :D

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Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tara was faced with her 3 ghostface, and this time got so seriously injured she was in a coma. When she wakes up, she has no memory of the past 3 years...including you, her girlfriend.

Notes: Imagine this as our gals scream 7...since Jenna apparently quit and left me fucking DYING

Warnings: Uh, injury, violence, blood, our boy ghostyface with knives. Coma and memory loss if thats even a warning. Swearing. Uhm. Shitty 7th grade writing.

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Tara looked at Sam with wide eyes.

"What do you mean you invited her for dinner?!"

Y/N was not currently the most...comfortable person for Tara to be around. Due to the memory loss, Tara had no idea who she even was, and Y/N was very awkward around Tara, to say the least.

"I can see you two are uncomfortable around each other, and I want you guys to be as close as you were before!" Sam explained. She was clearly desperate to have this happen, and she wasn't gonna let it go.

"I have no memory of the girl! I don't even remember her last name!"

"Y/L/N. That's not important. What's important is getting your memories back or restarting your life. So, if your memory's with Y/N don't come back, you guys have to be at least friendly."

"Why the hell are you so desperate for this!?"

"She was good for you, Tara...she still is. You need someone like her in your life. She helped you through everything." Sam said, eyebrows furrowing as though she was holding back from giving too much information.

"I don't need anyone. And what do you mean 'Everything'" Tara said, seeing the small opening where she could ask about her past without it being weird.

"Doesn't...that isn't something you need to know right now. You should be focused on the good part that you forgot...not the bad." Sam told her, her cheeks tinged red with anxiety.

"Life isn't all good, Sam. I need to know the rest of the stuff. If you truly wanted me to remember, you'd tell me everything. Anything. Please. I feel like everyone pity's me! 'Oh look, it's Tara, the girl who doesn't know anything!' and it sucks! It fucking sucks, Sam! You don't understand what it feels like the be with your friends of 10 years and not understand what the fuck they're talking about! It's like listening to people speaking in another language, having to translate everything for you! It's torture! And no one will tell what happened! There's this 'Big, Dangerous Thing' everyone keeps talking about, but won't tell me what the fuck it is!" Tara explained, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears, her heart pounding. "Everyone looks at my like I'm 3, like they have to watch what the say around me so they don't press the wrong button and spring some unknown knowledge on me. Tell me, Sam. Please."

"Tara...I know. I really do. And you're right, I can't imagine what it would be like to forget years of your life. But I hear you, it's terrible that you feel that way, but Tara, it's so much easier, so much better to just have you not know...it's not going to make you feel better, it'll just make everything worse. I wish I could forget it sometimes too. And I'll tell you when the time is right."

"Does it have something to do with my injuries? My scars?" Tara asked, holding up her hand to show Sam the scar.

"Tara, I said we aren't talking about that right now."

"So it does?"

"Tara. Get ready for dinner. Y/N is coming at six."

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Still good?

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader

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suiseisyojo · 1 year

Note

Hello! I absolutely adore your TWST love potion HCs and I'd love it if you did one for Idia too!

a/n: thank you so much, i'm so happy you like them! i'm sorry this is a little belated, i've had idia's segment done for the longest time but i felt awkward only uploading 1 character LOL but i hope this was worth the wait, and that you enjoy! thanks for requesting!♪

「idia shroud, silver x gn!reader」 ↳ in which you accidentally drink a love potion and fall for the one who’s always harbored unrequited feelings for you. [parts 1 + 2] cw: angst, suggestive themes (all), reader is based off hen wen (silver)

[idia shroud]

Everyone knew how difficult it was to befriend Idia—an introverted, pessimistic shut-in with no social awareness—and yet, you found yourself on amiable terms with him. The two of you bonded over your mutual love for 〈Precipice Moirai〉. You confided in Idia about how their music aided you in troubling times, and your relationship began to blossom deeper and deeper from then onwards.

But Idia's feelings for you were much more profound, severing the border between 'like' and 'love'. Ortho was aware of these feelings Idia possessed, encouraging him to be open with you; yet Idia would always, always refute, ”There’s no way they’d love someone like me. If I ever confessed, I can hear the way they’d say, ‘Ew, why would I date a walking corpse like him?’!!”.

And so, when you had accidentally consumed a love potion and began lavishing heaps of affection onto him, him of all people!, Idia was at a complete loss on what to do. "Idia-san, I'm going crazy. I need you, my heart is on fire because of you," you softly spoke to him, fingers grasping his sweater.

Ortho giggled at the sight of you cooing at him, before letting it slip that Idia loved you. "Isn't this great, Nii-san? [Name]-san's heart rate is 114 beats per minute, all from looking at you! They must love you, too!" Oh no, oh no, oh no⋯ Ortho, no!

“Aah! I can’t believe Ortho outed me like that⋯!!” Idia lamented, his scorching cheeks hidden behind overly long sleeves of his sweater. Thanks to his little brother admitting to you that Idia’s always harbored feelings for you, you were even more obdurate on receiving his affections while under the love potion’s influence. “Huh? It’s fine? No way is that true!”

In the first place, having you on his bed like this was enough to make him faint, now let alone having you try to make advances towards him! Isn’t all of this happening too fast? It’s as if the writers in a romance visual novel didn’t care enough to develop the relationship past the four bullet points in the reveal trailer!!

Anxiety and heat swirled in his mind and left him overburdened by his own pessimistic thoughts, mourning his existence with you before it even began. Your hand coiled around his wrist, bringing his hand down away from concealing his countenance from you.

Breathlessly, Idia stared at you with wide-eyes, “Eh? What is it?” He looked mortified beyond his normal scope, and it made your heart squeeze. The palms of your hands smoothed over his cheeks, feeling how he trembled beneath you.

“Put on some Premo?” Repeating the words back to you, Idia realized why you suddenly had such a request. To make him feel more comfortable, to settle his unease with your shared love of the idol unit. “⋯ I guess that would help.”

Idia got up from the bed and sauntered over to his computer, where he put on your favorite album. Unconsciously, he did so—he thought of you as if it was second-nature. Can’t he just stay here at his desk? Why did you have to be so insistent on being close? Okay, it was the heightened effects from the love potion, but still.

You were killing his heart! Inhaling shakily, Idia begrudgingly climbed back onto the bed as you pleaded oh so sweetly to him. His heavy breaths scorched his lips as it spilled out, and he froze when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Now It’s too hot? Well, that’s what happens when you snuggle up close to someone like me!” Idia sobbed, only for pure, unadulterated panic to suffuse through the fissures of his body as your fingers hooked around the hem of your shirt. “LEAVE IT ON, PLEASE!”

The faint sound of incoherent mumbling could be heard, as Idia senselessly babbled, “I-I didn’t think I’d unlock an H scene!” under his breath.

Overlaying his panting was your beloved idol unit, and Idia was on the verge of tears as he watched you come closer and closer to him. Your first kiss with Idia was underscored by your all-time favorite song. The song that even brought your path to his.

Idia melted into you as your mouth rounded with his, the heat from your mingling breaths sending a frisson of excitement down your spines. Deep in his chest was guilt, a dreaded sensation he was all too familiar with.

A mixture of worry and titillation coated his insides—what if you hated him after this? He only just worked up the courage to talk to you first without being prompted!!

“You’re going to be the death of me, [Name]-shi; I’m falling for deeper seeing you like this-!!”

[silver]

Your relationship with Silver had always been extremely close—in fact, many people were stupefied to find out you two weren't dating and remained friends. You retained potent oracle powers, your magic bestowing you the ability to see into the future. And most of the time, you used the aforementioned ability to predict when and where Silver would fall asleep; so that you may catch him in time, or be prepared to wake him up should he sleep too long and miss a class or event.

It didn't help that the two of you would often be caught cuddling together, your arms and legs tangled with one another as you shared your heat. Silver had never experienced love until he met and fell for you, and even as those feelings flourished in his chest, he never once put that pressure on your relationship. He kept all the words he wished to say, and the feelings, hidden away.

When word got out that you had ingested a love potion, whether accidental or not, Silver vowed to continue being your knight and stay staunchly by your side in order to protect you. And things would've been perfectly fine if the words "I love you, Silver" hadn't spilled from your pretty, entrancing lips.

As his heart stopped in his chest, Silver ran. His legs carried him far away before his mind could process a single thing, and he couldn't tell if that was for you his sake⋯ or yours.

Fluttering his eyes open, the sensation of soft lashes dusting across skin distant, Silver’s weariness exacerbated as his vision was enveloped with your prepossessing countenance in propinquity to his own. “[Name]⋯?” he inquired indolently, bewildered by the sight before him.

Your body hovered above his as you pinned him down further onto the couch he rested upon, the spates of warmth emanating from your skin seeping into him; in a way that didn’t beguile him into slumber or serenity, but another kind of excitement.

“You knew I would be napping here so you looked for me?” Silver found himself sighing as he heard your words, a pathetic attempt to placate his titillation, before latching his hands onto your hips. “Never mind that, you should get off me.”

With ease, Silver dug his fingers rougher into your hips as he lifted you up; shifting himself upwards with hasty movements so as to be sedentary. The reason he was tucked away in a spot aberrant for him, occluded from view, was precisely because he was avoiding you.

The harrow of receiving your distorted heart was too much to bear—he didn’t want to do something shameful, something unbecoming of a knight-to-be. Yet your obstinacy towards clinging onto him was alluring all the same, like a gleaming spindle meant to tantalize and corrupt.

It made Silver’s head spin.

“I see that the love potion hasn’t worn off yet⋯ if you can predict the future, wouldn’t you have known if that drink you accepted was poisoned or not?” Silver, of all people, knew that your powers weren’t that easy to manipulate or control.

Ever since Silver was a little boy, he’d always dreamed of falling in love like that of a fairytale. When Lilia would swathe him in abundant blankets as they snuggled together in bed, utilizing his magic to resplendently illuminate the room along with fantastical and whimsical stories. ‘Will I find someone like the prince did?’ Silver remembers asking his father, a string of giggles overflowing from his lips as Lilia tickled his sides, ‘My fated person?’.

If this was a fairytale, true love’s kiss would break the egregious spell holding you captive—but as your lips feverishly met with his, Silver realized he wasn’t your prince; for no prince would so greedily taste your lip-gloss on your teeth while he deepened these incessant kisses.

“Yeah, you’re my fated one, [Name]. Let me show you how I’ve always dreamed of having you.”

#idia shroud #silver twst #idia shroud x reader #silver x reader #silver twst x reader #x reader #gn reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #love potion series

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judethejudas · 1 year

Text

MW2 König x Male! Stripper! Reader Smut

König steps out of his comfort zone to meet an old friend at a club. But what happens when he decides to make a new friend there? In ways he couldn’t imagine.

(S/N) = stripper name

(F/C) = favorite color

WARNING: highly sexual themes, swearing, size difference, cis male reader described.

MINORS AND FEM ALIGNED DNI

Dear god. Did he really have to do this?

König stood completely still as he stared up at the red neon sign above him, which read ‘Dante’s Inferno’.

A strip club. A rather diverse one to be exact since the strippers consisted of both women and men.

“Schieße.. I can’t go in there..” The Austrian was too shy to push himself to go in. He’s never been in such a place but his childhood friend, his only friend, had invited him to catch up on old times since it’s been so long.

But.. there were naked men and women in there. He wouldn’t be able to get a single word out if he went in! Oh how his anxiety crippled him.

He couldn’t disappoint his friend though. Not when he was the only one he felt safe with during his childhood. The least he could do was just go in and talk over a drink, right?

König took a deep breath, and vanquished his fear for a moment to walk inside the club.

After paying the fee, he was fully allowed inside and he was able to see just what he was getting himself into.

Women and men, scantily dressed, walked with such a sway of their bodies it was crumbling the beast of a man.

He hated being so tall sometimes. It meant he was always the centre of attraction, even in a place like this.

Both patrons and the strippers would look over at the hulking mass at the doorway, shocked at how tall he was.

König sheepishly walked at a brisk pace to the table where his friend was seated, ignoring the stares of everybody as he passed by.

“My friend! It is so good to see you again, so good!” His friend stepped out of the booth to give him a hug and König let out a quick sigh of relief. He was so happy he wasn’t alone.

“Very good to see you too.” He mumbled out as they both took their seats. The two chatted about their lives, their childhoods together, what they were doing now and whatnot.

König refused to look at any stripper that walked by them or was performing on that stage.

“Still as shy as ever, yeah?” His friend chuckled, giving him a pat on his back.

König chuckled too, just more quietly and almost sounding embarrassed. Oh, he was embarrassed. The pink tint on his cheeks and ears proved it.

“I don’t get out much, more of a workaholic if anything.”

“Oh? Then we need to change that..”

The Austrian man did not like the way he said that.

He felt his heart racing as his friend motioned for one of the strippers to come over.

Oh no.

“I-I, now there’s no need please, I’m fine right here..!”

“Nonsense! This’ll be good for you, I promise!”

A man was coming over, dressed in (f/c) short briefs and adorned with jewelry and harnesses on his legs.

König avoided eye contact when you took a seat next to him.

“Can I help you, boys?” You sat so close to the poor man his thigh was trembling a bit. He could feel your arm and your leg pressed up to his own. This was quite a lot of physical contact for a man like himself.

“Yes. My friend König here would love your services, perhaps in the VIP room?”

“Of course. Come along, darling. I’ll show you the way..” You smiled and took his hand in your own, leaving the booth and heading to the back rooms where the private dances were held.

“My name is (s/n), if you were curious about that.”

König tried to say something after you told him your fake name, but he was at a loss for words and was unable to speak. He could only look downwards to the floor to avoid showing his intense blush.

He could hear the different music in this new part of the building and small, separate rooms, people were receiving lap dances.

König immediately turned his gaze away from them and focused on you, well, your backside at least. And even that made him look away again.

“Okay, love, here we are. Now you just sit there and make yourself comfortable.” You said with a lilt in your voice, leading him to the leather chair and gently pushing him down to make him sit.

König still didn’t look at you when he was sat, but you could clearly see the cute redness on his face.

“You’re awfully shy for such a big man.. Do I make you nervous, hun?” Your fingers pet his cheek and you turned his face so you could look at him directly. The panic in this man’s eyes was so clear to you.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“No no, I..” He finally spoke but couldn’t finish as he was getting flushed again, staring at your nearly exposed body from top to bottom.

“Is this your first time?” You asked as you sat in his lap, making him stiffen and immediately look to the side. His eyes were wide and he bit his tongue, trying to stifle a stutter he knew was coming on.

You leaned in, your hand was stroking his torso muscles through his black shirt and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be slow and gentle with you. I promise.” You whispered in his ear.

He nearly moaned when he felt a soft pair of lips kissing his jawline and throat. Never had he been kissed like this before. He actually couldn’t even recall a genuine kiss at the moment.

You knew how touch starved he was as soon as his breathing picked up.

Your dance had just started and König was already trembling in his seat.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” You gently commanded and he obeyed, his eyes now turned from the wall to you.

Your body was sat up in his lap and your hands caressed your chest and your sides, giving him a half lidded horny stare. You unlatched the harness from your legs and tossed it aside, even playing with the edge of your briefs.

König couldn’t tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to at that moment. You were so gorgeous and knew exactly what to do with yourself. It was hypnotic.

He nearly whined when you got off his lap and stood up in front of him.

“You’re so hot, König. So fucking cute.” You breathed out as you did your dance, slowly and sensually just for him. He shuddered at the way you said his name and you smirked. He saw your ass when you bent down and how your fingers teasingly pulled your briefs down a little, before pulling them back up and giving your ass a slap and a wiggle.

After a few minutes, you got back into his lap for the more touchier dance.

The part of your routine that involved grinding against his crotch with your own was enough to break him.

He groaned, but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and coiled in shame. He knew hardly anything of strip clubs but he did know it was not customary to be so loud.

Now this just won’t do, you thought.

You took his hand away and placed it on your hip, grabbing his other hand too and holding it against your chest. König was unsure of what to do but he was thankful you were taking the lead, even if it was embarrassing for him.

“It’s alright, you can be as loud as you want with me.”

Then you started moving against him again.

König sucked in a harsh breath and gripped onto your hip, careful as to not hurt you since he was very aware of his strength.

His gentility and obvious shyness is what you loved about him so far. He was different than the usual patrons. Sure you’ve gotten some shy ones before but this one?

You were convinced he was a virgin. Or at least had sex just once and not since.

Why were you so convinced? Well, the man you were grinding against was getting quite the hard on. And you felt it bulging against you.

König blushed and apologized to you profusely, to which you hushed him immediately. It wasn’t the first time a man was hard because of you, nothing to be ashamed about. You only leaned in close so that your lips were only inches apart from his.

“Do you want to fuck me, König..?”

The Austrian stared at you with shock, trying to find the right words without sounding like a fool. He had never been asked that before, at least not like this. Being bullied nearly all his life, his self confidence was very low and he never would have expected to have someone as beautiful as you on top of him.

“Ah.. yes.. I do..”

You smiled as your hand came up to touch his cheek gently, making him instantly lean into the warmth.

“Can I kiss you?”

There was a question he could answer easily. With a nod, almost an eager one.

You connected your lips to his as soon as he gave you the okay. His were rough in comparison to yours but it fit so sweetly. You also noticed he wasn’t the greatest kisser due to his inexperience, you liked it though. Your eyes and his closed while you both found a comfortable rhythm with your lips.

What a quick learner he was.

You started grinding against him again and he moaned into the kiss, which allowed you to slip your tongue into his mouth.

His eyes were wide open now when he felt your tongue against his. He kissed someone only once before, in high school when a girl was dared to kiss him but it didn’t feel real at all. It felt like a joke, just someone for all the kids to laugh at. And there was certainly no tongue when he got kissed.

No, it felt like you genuinely wanted him.

You cock was beginning to harden as well and König felt it. If he had any doubts that you wanted him then they were quickly vanquished when he felt your bulge on his.

“Mmh, König..” You moaned out and started kissing his throat, giving it gentle sucks and licks. You didn’t want to rush him since he was most likely new to all this. The little grunts and groans he let out told you so.

Your hands came up to stroke his body through the fitted shirt he wore while his hands groped your hips. He went in for another kiss, now instantly addicted to the way your lips felt on his. Kissing was now his favorite thing.

You two stayed like that for a while. Kissing each other passionately and moving your crotch against his back and forth. He felt huge through his pants. You guessed around 10 inches and very thick.

“Fuck.. liebling.. I don’t think I can wait anymore..” He said after he broke the kiss, his chest rising and falling heavily. You saw the shyness in his eyes still, but the horniness that accompanied it was much stronger.

You smiled and got off his lap to kneel down in front of him, spreading his legs apart with your hands. His bulge was very large and pressing against the fabric of his pants. Poor baby, how uncomfortable he must be feeling right now.

The taller man froze when he saw you unzipping his pants with your teeth, staring up at him with a lustful gaze.

To him, you looked so angelic, despite the actions being so sinful.

His boxers were pulled down and his hard cock immediately stood at full attention. You were shocked at the size of him. He must have been 12 inches instead of 10 like you thought. It was veiny, and already leaking pre cum.

How this man kept the monster behind bars? You had no clue.

You cast aside your thoughts and went to work. Your lips closed around his swollen, red tip and gave it a swirl of your tongue— focusing on the underside. This man deserved some good head and it’s the least you could do, for now.

The man groaned and stopped himself from bucking his hips into your mouth. How horrible it would be if he accidentally made you choke. You personally wouldn’t have minded if he did but he had anxiety about it.

You started taking more of him into your mouth, comfortably fitting 5 inches without pushing too far. Your personal record was 8 inches but the ones you’ve had before were less thicker and longer than König.

Your head bobbed up and down on him at a moderate pace.

“Fuck.. oh fuck.. yes, just like that..” The man above you panted and leaned his head back. He truly felt like a king now, just as his name meant. Every time you found his sweet spot he would shut his eyes tight and feel a shiver coursing through his body.

It was only when you swallowed a few more inches of his cock that he snapped his eyes open and looked down at you, surprised you could take more.

Your gag reflex was long gone since coming into this business. While you weren’t a prostitute, you did find a few men attractive that you’d end up fucking them either in or out of the club. And had plenty of practice in blowjobs.

König couldn’t take it anymore. It was so sudden when he came down your throat that your eyes widened in surprise. Thankfully you suppressed the urge to cough and let his warm cum spurt down.

When he finally finished, you took your mouth off him.

“I’m.. so very sorry.. I should have said something.” He said as he was trying to catch his breath, looking like a guilty puppy.

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it.” You giggled a little and stood up to your feet. It was time for something a little more intimate that both of you could enjoy.

You got back into his lap and took his hand in yours, taking his middle and pointer finger and began sucking on them.

König felt his dick twitch when he felt your tongue in between his fingers. Your saliva coated them generously and he was starting to like the fact he was so big in comparison to you.

When you felt it was enough, you took his fingers out of your mouth and guided them to your ass. He caught on quickly and prodded his pointer at your hole.

Your lips parted into a shuddered moan before helping him push the finger inside you, the other following suit immediately.

It didn’t take you long to start riding his digits to stretch you out. And boy, did his fingers do the job.

“Fuck.. mmh… König~” You dragged his name out in a moan as you felt his fingers curl inside you. He was more confident than before and start fingering you himself after a minute or two.

His lips captured yours in a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. You would let out a series of grunts and moans against his mouth when his fingers brushed a sensitive spot within you. Hell, you could cum just from his hands alone without even touching your cock.

But you wanted more.

You abruptly took his fingers out and pulled away from the kiss, and König suddenly worried he had displeased you.

You saw the look on his face and moved closer to him, both your cocks now rubbing against each other.

“I want you so bad, König. I want to feel you inside me. I can’t wait anymore..” You begged him softly.

The Austrian man was relieved to hear you didn’t want to stop, but he did worry about how he would fit inside you.

You took the lead and leaned upwards, grabbing his cock and putting it towards your ass. It would be quite the stretch but you could take it.

His tip entered you first and you gasped, slowly sinking onto him. His cum being a lubricant did help, but it was still a little painful.

König groaned and held you by your waist, making sure you weren’t entirely speared on his dick. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. You knew your limits though and made sure to take it easy.

After a few minutes, you were finally able to bounce up and down— slowly.

You figured riding him would be the easiest position to do considering his massive body. It was like being on top of a giant.

“God, liebling. You feel so good inside..” He groaned. “So warm and tight.”

You whimpered as more of his dick filled you up and you laid your forehead on his shoulder. You were fully bottomed out and it was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure you were feeling. It only encouraged you to ride him at a quicker pace.

The two of you exchanged filthy, desperate noises. König’s confidence was building and he even started groping you from the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock while you bounced on him.

Thank god the VIP room you two were in was at the every end of the hall. There was no reason for anyone to barge in and the music covered yours and his sounds well enough.

You felt his lips sloppily giving you kisses on your neck and collarbone, even sucking just as you did before. His mind was hazy and all he could think about was making you feel good.

König decided to be brave and take over.

He turned himself to the side and laid you down on the leather seat, now fucking you in a missionary position. He was able to go deeper inside this way and hit your prostate each time. He had also discarded his shirt as it was getting much too hot for unnecessary clothing.

There was no time to admire his body. All you could see were the few scars he had and his defined muscles.

You squealed as he started thrusting into you hard. Your legs coming up to latch around his waist.

“Please let me take you home, schatz. We can fuck like this all night..!” He grunted. One hand gripped the couch next to your head and the other held your hip in place. “I don’t want to stop here, not when you make me feel like this.. like I’ll go insane without you.”

His words excited you, but he was pounding into you so hard you couldn’t form a sentence— or even say yes. And oh how you wanted to scream yes.

You gasped when you felt his hand leaving your hip and taking hold of your cock, pumping it up and down quickly to the pace of his thrusts.

You felt like you would go insane without him too. The way his body enveloped yours and made you feel so incredible, so sex crazed and desperate for more of his touch.

Beads of sweat dropped from König’s forehead and onto your stomach. He was getting close to release again and hoped you were too.

Wanting to be closer, he leaned down and held you by your waist— before easily lifting you up and fucking you against his bare, sweaty chest. One hand held you by your ass and the other still on your waist.

You snaked your arms over his shoulders and held him tight as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

“Make me yours, König.. ” Your voice was hardly above a whisper.

The larger man groaned loudly when he heard you and buried himself deep inside, letting his cock fill you with cum.

That was enough to send you over the edge.

Your cock painted his chest as well as your own with cum, letting out a silent gasp and shuddering hard. This had to be the hardest you ever came in your life and you nearly lost consciousness.

Exhausted and well spent, König sat back down with you still on top of him. Both of you trying to catch your breath while stuck in a warm embrace.

Now he had to come up with a good excuse to leave his friend a little earlier than expected.

And you needed to ditch work.

________________

I can’t even begin to describe how appalled I was to find zero male readers for König. APPALLED. I LOVE this man.

Also please let me know if there’s specific parts I goofed on, like spelling errors and whatnot because I was in a rush to make this.

#cod #mw2 #könig #könig mw2 #könig x male reader #könig x male! reader #mw2 könig #cod könig

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chromations · 3 months

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The one story that scares me the most away from substance use is Jimmy Page. It's not an easy topic to go by, yet I'm still hesitant to post this.

Finding out the pure severity of Jimmy's health between '75-'83, mainly talking about 1977. This whole topic makes me so sad, but I always keep looking.

More under cut, it's a long post unpacking that year. Feel free to add.

We all know he did heroin, starting in 1975, and that he's always been skinny and underweight. But it started amping up in '76, taking more with a noticeable weight loss.

That man was practically on the brink of death from 1977. Between constant shows, rarely eating save for a liquid diet, rarely sleeping, and his addictions... it's scary. He had a weight goal that'd been just about reached: between 125-130 Ibs at 5'11½". (And while an inaccurate measurement of health for those heavier, this falls into 17 on the BMI chart: severely underweight) He dropped a few waist sizes (men's 29 in '75, down to men's 26) and had refused to talk to Peter Clifton after he'd included wide shots of Jimmy in TSRTS and a single roll of his stomach, as it made his ass "too wide." The black dragon pants didn't fit anymore, and fell off during a show. You can see him in the black dragon suit plus a belt during the Oakland photos. Note that these pants had completely fit him without need of a belt two years prior. He ended up at around a men's 26 waist. He'd stopped eating completely for a few days in a row during some tours.

Safe to say, Jimmy was extremely weight conscious. I think he met the criteria for an eating disorder diagnosis, as well.

There's accounts of him having stage fright and anxiety. He'd show up to '77 tour shows completely exhausted, nodding off constantly. Peter Grant had ended up slapping him awake and giving him coke just so he wouldn't pass out.

Then, there's the Chicago '77 show. Jimmy, sick on stage. His eyes are bloodshot, he's had nothing but orange juice in the past 60 hours, along with no sleep in that time frame. Sick from smack and coke, along with all of the previous factors of being an anxious wreck. It's a wonder he got through the first 7 songs before having to sit down during Ten Years Gone, calling for a 5 minute break, and then canceling the show. He couldn't go on that night, just nearly crumpling to sit. This is the story that scared me the most.

Linked below, the show is recorded up until Robert announces the show is canceled.

https://youtu.be/YVCiBd1oodU?feature=shared

I remember reading this account from Dave Northover (Jones' personal assistant):

This is what shattered my heart, initially reading it. How harshly drugs shattered Jimmy's brain, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. There's also a quote from Jimmy in an interview from the year: "I'm not into solid foods very much. I can't remember when I last had a steak. A few tours ago. It's just that you don't want too much in your stomach when you're playing. And there are some places you can't eat after you come back from the gig." He then notes that the banana daiquiris that he'd been consuming all the time are the answer to any problems, "having that every day and nothing to eat at all."

Additionally, In that interview, Jimmy says that earlier on in Zeppelin, Jimmy "had really been eating" and that he'd tried on the clothes from when he was in school, only for it to be very loose. It worries me more to remember that Jimmy stopped school at the age of 16 and had always been underweight. High metabolism, illness prone, and bouts of glandular fever during his time with The Crusaders (still was a teenager), not improved one bit by his undereating.

It's hurtful to hear how, more often than not, the media will praise a celebrity for their skinny figure, even if they're extremely unhealthy with it. Jimmy Page is no exception, as people praised him for his figure during his age.

Heroin is no joke, and I wouldn't wish the addiction it so easily presents to anyone. Withdrawals and smack sickness is scary to even witness, completely altering the person it grips. People often note how jimmy was an asshole, especially in the late 70s, but when dealing with a heroin addiction, with what is basically an eating disorder, high anxiety, with the goal of living your music, the goal of pleasing the crowd, getting the job done, and most of all, surviving, the way you act isn't at the front of your mind. I'm sure Page was aware he was an asshole, but with what he was dealing with, it's not important. Instant gratification, reward, matters more. Not dying matters more. Getting the next hit matters more. His image mattered more.

No matter how much of an asshole he was, and some of the reprehensible things he'd committed earlier on, I wouldn't wish this upon anyone. You see the light leave his eyes as the years went on, you know that while he recovered, those were the darkest years of his life that we know, and there's a reason he'd rarely talk about it: Who would want to?

I've heard multiple people say that if we hadn't lost Bonham in '80, then within those few years, we would've lost Page. It's a wonder he was able to still go on in the early 80s.

Even comparing photos of him in 73, 75, and 77, you go from a "safer" underweight, to his ribs completely visible.

I'm glad we still have him around. This whole topic is not easy to go by, and while most anti drug campaigns don't sway me much, it's the slow / fast decent into all of this that gives me such a strong reaction.

I don't appreciate seeing the way it's so casually joked about amongst the online zeppelin areas. People do take it seriously, but there's always the insensitive ones.

(Adding on, since I accidentally posted this as a draft)

Many people blame page for the effects of his addiction: Sloppy guitar playing, distancing from the rest of the band, assholery behavior.

You can't fault an addict for falling addicted. You can fault them for starting it, maybe, and you can criticize them for all you want. Still, a heroin addiction isn't just as cigarettes. It's the easiest to fall addicted to, and one of the hardest to quit, especially when a physical dependency is grown. Withdrawal symptoms could start early, and extreme too. Most heroin addicts trying to quit will relapse within the first day or two, it's not easy as that.

Considering how unhelpful the help was at the time, quitting cold turkey at these points would probably worsen his condition for a while, considering how rail thin Jimmy had been. The people around him grew worried, grew mad, and I find myself wondering how he could still pick up the guitar and rail out the LA Forum 1977 show, producing banger shows through 77, yet the shoddiest shows as well.

There could be little done about treatment of eating disorders as well, due to medical knowledge and stigma around it. I'll sympathize with this part, having the experience of one: ED recovery on your own is rough. I don't know how jimmy got out of heroin and an ED, and I don't think the process of that should become business unless necessary.

If you find yourself falling into these vices, seek help. Nothing about this is normal: not the lifestyle, nor the pressures.

Jimmy's case will always haunt me. I'd wish this upon no one.

#tw drugs #jimmy page #led zeppelin #tw disordered eating

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xdaddysprincessxx · 9 months

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Scarecrow

Serial killer Farmer Joel x f!reader

(Part of the In every lifetime universe, takes place before so like 1965 making Joel early 40s in this)

Warnings: Dead Dove : Gore/horror, Joel is a serial killer = he kills ppl, smut, noncon, virginity loss, inappropriate use of farm equipment, death/no survivors, oral (f receiving), dead bodies, dismemberment, slapping(face & pussy), 1 head flying, i believe that’s it, again Joel is a very bad man in this.

Summary: It’s almost Halloween! You and your friends decide to go to Farmer Joel’s corn maze for some spooky fun! Except your boyfriend is being a dick and starts to poke fun at Joel, ruining the fun. For you and your friends at least.

A/n: @multiversed-daydreamer this one’s for you babe! I took heavy inspo from Texas Chainsaw Massacre and elements from various slasher movies. This is very much a horror movie in words. This is dark and fucked up. ⚠️ Proceed with caution ⚠️

‘Two more bodies found’ ‘The fifth victim found in connection to string of disappearances’

The headlines of every newspaper and the topic of every whispered conversation around town has you on high alert. There’s been a total of what? Seven victims now? You think. No one’s sure who’s doing it but every other day it’s the same story. Someone goes missing, a few days later their body pops up, tied to a post in a field, dressed up as a scarecrow. Only except these “scarecrows” have their throats slit, multiple stab wounds and more times than not, missing limbs. To say you are terrified is an understatement. These murders have been happening for the past three years, always during the fall too.

As you sit at your kitchen table, sipping your morning coffee, your phone starts to ring. Getting up to go pick the phone up off the receiver, phone still attached by a curly cord, you answer.

“Heyyyy girly!! You already know who it is!! So guess where we are going tonight!” You hear your best friend Lucy shout into the other end of the phone.

“Lucy what are you talking about? Going where? Do you not see the news? I’m not about to go anywhere and risk dying.” You reply with a giggle, knowing damn well these murders aren’t going to stop you or her from going out and having fun.

Laughing out loud, “Well we’re going to drum roll please!” Clap,clap,clap sounds through the phone, “We’re going to Farmer Joel’s corn maze!!” Lucy all but shouts. “Annnddd you should totally invite your little boy toy Brad!” She adds with mischievousness in her voice.

“Lucy! Oh my god stop!” You giggle, “Brad and I aren’t even official yet! We’ve only gone on one date.” You say as blush begins to cover your cheeks. You all used to go to high school together. Brad was the star quarterback on the football team. You and your group of friends kept to yourselves. So when you moved back after college, you were surprised when you ran into Brad at the grocery store and started talking. That’s when he asked you out on a date. Nothing crazy special just dinner and the two of you catching up. Afterwards he awkwardly kissed you goodnight as he dropped you off at your house.

“Ooh and I think Frank and Janet are also coming too! It’s gonna be so much fun! Okay be ready by 7!” Lucy exclaims.

“Okay ill see you then!!” You say before hanging the phone back on the receiver that’s hanging on the wall.

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By the time 6 o’clock came around, you’d already been ready to go. Your anxiety never allowing you to just chill. Dressed in your favorite knee length blue floral dress and white cardigan paired with your favorite pair of Mary Jane shoes. You were ready for a fun night with your friends and potential new boyfriend.

Before you knew it, you heard knocking on your door. Standing up from the couch, you smooth out your dress and grab your purse that you place across your body as you go to answer the door.

Opening the door, you reveal Brad standing there wearing his high school lettermen’s jacket, looking quite handsome. “Hey Brad!” You say as you walk out the door, shutting it closed behind you.

“Well hey there cutie pie. You ready to go out to Farmer Joel’s corn maze? Maybe we’ll get lost in there.” He says, winking suggestively at you.

You slap him on the shoulder playfully, “Oh my god Brad you are so silly. Even if we do, we won’t be alone!” You say as you try to let him down easily. As much as you do like him, you aren’t ready to do anything sexual with him. After all you’re still a virgin. The two of you walk hand in hand to his car where your other friends Lucy, Frank and Janet are waiting.

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The sun is starting to set as you pull up to Farmer Joel’s place. He lives out in the middle of nowhere with tons of acres. He moved to Chesterfield about 5 or so years ago and ever since, every fall he always does a corn maze and hay rides for everybody. The hayrides ended about an hour ago and soon the corn maze will be closed for the night as well. You and your friends have about an hour to enjoy the maze and make it out before closing. Most of the families that came out tonight are leaving already probably due to the chill in the air. Still you can’t help but notice how sparse the crowd is as you and your friends walk up to the corn maze.

Joel’s standing off to the side of the maze entrance, looking rather intimidating in his overalls and steal toed boots. He’s chatting with a couple who just came out of the maze when he looks in your direction. For a split second you swear he was looking into your soul. You couldn’t help but feel a chill creep up your spine.

“Hey buddy! How are you doing old farmer Joel? Looking good for your age. How old are you? 65?” Brad says as he starts laughing expecting everyone to join in. Your friends give a tiny giggle, not really sure why Brads picking on Joel for his age.

The couple Joel was talking too just rolled their eyes at Brad and said their goodbyes to Joel before walking away.

“Very funny kid. I see you’ve got jokes. Tell me, how’s life post high school? Do anything worth mentioning or are you still stuck reliving your wonder years?” Joel bites back, not taking this stupid punks shit.

“Hey man fuck you. I was the best damn quarterback Chesterfield High has ever seen! What the fuck have you ever done? Huh?” Brad retorts back.

“Brad stop it. You’re being an ass. Come on let’s go through the maze before it closes. I’m so sorry Mister Joel don’t pay him any mind.” You chastised Brad while also apologizing to Joel for brad for being such a child.

Joel just stares at you again, seemingly penetrating your very soul. You swear he can see inside your mind. He just grunts and lifts his chin towards you as you grab Brad by the hand and drag him into the maze.

The maze itself isn’t terribly long but the aisle you have to walk through is rather small. You and Brad lead the group while Lucy is to your left just slightly behind you and Frank and Janet side by side in the back. After a few minutes you come to a fork.

“Let’s go right guys. This way we can get out sooner.” Janet suggests, having the hebbie jebbies ever since Brad and Joel had their little showdown.

“No no let’s go left, come on guys let’s take our time and have fun. Old man Joel can wait on us.” Brad tells the group, trying his best to take charge.

“No Brad I don’t feel comfortable doing that. Come on let’s just go right and get this over with and we can go to IHOP and hang after.” Janet begs Brad and the rest of the group.

“How about this? Me and Janet will go right. You guys go left. Lucy pick who you wanna go with.” Frank says coming up with a neutral solution.

“I’ll go with these guys. We’ll meet y’all at the end!” Lucy says to Frank and Janet.

The group splits off, Frank and Janet going right and you,Brad and Lucy going left. The three of you walk in silence for a few minutes before you hear what sounds like a scream. All three of you jump. You quickly grab onto Brads arm as Lucy grabs onto your arm.

“What was that?” Lucy whispers. Scared to be louder than a whisper so she’s not heard by whatever that was.

“I dunno girl. That’s super creepy. Do you think it was Janet? I hope they’re okay. M-maybe it’s just Frank scaring her.” You whisper back, trying to remain logic even though your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

“Girls. You guys are so easily scared.” Brad says, rolling his eyes. “You can’t scare me bro!” He shouts to the void.

By now the sun has set, leaving you, Brad and Lucy shrouded in darkness. There’s a couple of lights behind you at the entrance and you can see a couple more closer to the exit but that’s it. Complete darkness. And now that you notice, complete silence too. All of the other guests must have left by now leaving you and your friends here by yourselves. The three of you keep on walking when you hear snapping of a corn stalk before you feel Lucy’s grip on your arm leave. Looking back to see what she’s doing, you see that Lucy is gone. Literally vanished into thin air.

“Lucy? Lucy? Where are you?” You say in the loudest whisper you can manage. Frightened you grip onto Brad even harder, “ Brad let’s get out of here. I’m scared.” You tell him.

“Babe come on there’s nothing to be scared of. They’re playing a stupid little prank on you I’m sure of it.” He says with an air of confidence.

Terrified, you just nod your head holding onto him for dear life as the two of you continue walking through the maze. Soon enough you two are walking out of the maze.

“See babe I told you everything is fine.” Brad says.

Letting go of his arm, you shake out your arms, stiff from the tight grip you had. “Whatever Brad let’s find the others and go.” You say as you look at him.

Before he can answer you, a pitchfork shoots out his chest causing him to gurgle on the blood now flooding his mouth. The pitchfork slides back through his body as you let out a blood curling scream. Brads body slumping over and falling to the ground revealing Farmer Joel standing behind him, pitchfork in hand.

Paralyzed with fear, all you seem to be able to do is stand there with eyes wide and your mouth still open. Joel throws the pitchfork down, practically gliding over to you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in one smooth motion. Immediately you start banging your fists on his impenetrable back, flailing your legs.

“Let me go!! Please! I- I won’t go to the cops or anything! Just please let me go!! I don’t wanna die!!” You scream at Joel, begging for your life.

Joel just grunts at your begging,swatting you on your ass as he takes you into his barn in the back, a good ways away from the maze. And for some reason your body absolutely betrays you because why on gods green earth should that give you such a good feeling in your lower stomach. A tiny part of you hoping he does it again. Once inside, Joel drops you like a sack of potatoes onto a hay bale that’s been placed against a wooden post. Before you can even make a move he grabs your arms twisting them behind you and tying you to the post.

“No use in screaming honey. Nobody can hear you out here so it’d be in your best interest to keep quiet.” Joel finally says as he finishes tying you and walks around to face you.

“Please mister Joel please I promise I’ll do whatever you want just let me go! I don’t wanna die! Please . .” You sob, hoping this man has a sliver of mercy inside his body for you.

Joel just stands there, staring at you for a quick second before walking back out of the barn. As you sit there you notice your body betraying you further as you feel yourself start to get wet. Between him spanking you and now being tied up, a part of you is excited from the treatment. You’ve always found Joel to be handsome. Big, broad shoulders, rough hands from working on the farm, those gorgeous brown eyes. But you saw him kill Brad! He probably killed the others too you just didn’t have any proof. It must be the adrenaline rushing through you, that’s it. That’s why you’re feeling like this.

After what felt like hours being stuck inside the barn, you hear Joel’s boots thudding on the cold, hard ground followed by what sounded like wheels? That’s when you see Joel pushing a wheelbarrow piled high with your friends. On the other side of the barn, directly across from you, Joel dumps all the bodies of your friends into a pile. The bodies make a sickening thud when you notice their arms and legs have been severed from their bodies, Brads head rolls away from the pile and lands up right, staring at you.

Terrified, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. He cut brads head off!!! All of your friends have been dismembered!! You were already scared for your life, if that’s what he does to them, what’s Joel gonna do to you?!

Your scream hurts Joel’s ears, the high pitched sound causing him to flinch. After dumping the bodies he drops the wheel barrow and stomps over to you. Picking up that punks head by the hair, he throws it back to the pile. Once he reaches you, he can’t help but to slap you across the face before covering your mouth with his hand. His other hand going to the back of your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair, yanking to make you look at him.

“Be quiet girl! I already told you ain’t nobody can hear you! I don’t wanna hear that shit!” He growls in your face. You shut up immediately. He continues to cover your mouth and keep his fist in your hair as the two of have this stare down. After a few seconds, Joel breaks first and drops his hands as he looks away. Grunting he starts to untie you from the post. Once untied he unceremoniously throws you back over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, knocking the wind out of you. He leaves the barn and starts towards his house. As scared as you are, you decide your gonna do what he says and stay quiet, hoping he’ll take mercy on you if you behave.

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Slamming the door closed behind him, Joel makes sure to lock all three locks and the chain to ensure you can’t get out. Still carrying you, he can’t help but notice how your ass sticks out from your dress being pushed up from being thrown over his shoulder. It’s been so long since he’s last had a woman. And a man has urges you know. Deciding in a split second to change his plan, he instead takes you up upstairs to his bedroom.

Soon enough Joel is flinging you onto his king sized bed. Sitting up you can’t help but stare up, wide eyed at Joel as he towers over you. You’ve never really noticed how tall he is. It’s almost intimidating how he looms over you. The way he’s manhandled you has caused your slick to pool in your panties. All of these emotions have left you so puzzled; he’s a murderer. You saw your friends dead. But yet you find yourself wanting to look deep in his eyes before he bends you over his knee to spank you as punishment before making you take every inch of his cock in your tight virgin pussy. Joel begins to bend down and take his boots off, throwing them one by one to the side. Nervous, you slowly scooted back towards the head board.

“You a virgin girl?” Joel asks in a gruff voice as he places a bended knee on the bed. You shake your head yes nervous as to what he’s gonna do with that information. He slowly makes his way onto the bed, now on both of his knees, crawling toward you with a hungry look in his eyes and a creepy smirk on his face making you scooch back even more. Feeling like an animal about to be attached by it’s predator.

“Good. Just how I like my women. Pure. And all mine.” Joel says in a low baritone voice, “Don’t worry darlin’ you’ll like what I do to you. I’ll make sure your untouched pussy can take my cock before I fuck you.” As much as you try to feel reassured that he’s not gonna make it hurt, you’re still scared. You’ve never been touched. The most you’ve done is some light kissing and hand holding. And now this scary man who turns you on and frightens you is going to take your virginity. Your back hits the headboard forcing you to acknowledge you have no where to go. Joel reach’s his hand out and grabs your calf, pulling your leg causing you to slide down leaving you on your back and his face directly in front of your cunt. He bends down, his nose going up and down your covered slit as he breathes in your soaking wet pussy. The feeling of his nose on your most private part sends tingles throughout your vagina and up your whole body. You can’t help by shiver from the feeling.

“Mm you smell so good baby” Joel says, breathing in deep before laying a chaise kiss on top of your mound. Joel looks up at you, You are frozen, unable to move or say anything but lay there and watch this man. The two of you hold eye contact for a few heartbeats before you feel Joel’s rough hands grab your hips and begin to peel your panties off of your body. You lift your hips to help him reveal yourself to him, wanting to feel his touch down there again.

Once your panties were off and flung to the side, Joel looks back down and let’s out a low whistle, “Damn baby looks like you want this. You want my cock pretty girl? Need a man to show you how to fuck? How to suck cock? Need me to make this cunt feel good?” He says as he takes his thumb up your slit, putting a little pressure on your clit and holding it there.

You sigh at how good that felt. Starting to feel all your thoughts melt away when you felt a slap on your cunt, making it sting, “Ouch!” You exclaim

“Answer me when I’m talking to you girl!” Joel barks at you as he slaps your pussy again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll answer, I-I’ll be good, I’m sorry!” You sob after a third slap. Joel reached up with his other hand and grabs your cheeks causing your face to be smushed as he pulls you towards his face, “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need my hands, my fucking cock or I swear to god I’ll take you back to the barn and leave you to rot with your friends.” Joel demands, you nod your head yes, “Yes. Yes I- I need you Joel . I-Joel please, please I need you, I-I I need your cock.”

Joel leans forward, meeting your face, causing his nose to press into your nose, “Good baby. That’s what I wanna hear. I don’t wanna hurt you darlin’ but I will. I need you to be good okay? Be my good girl.” He says, shaking his head yes as he said those last words, closing his eyes. Inhaling deep, as if he can’t get enough of your scent. You shake your head yes with him, “I’ll be good Joel.” You whisper, causing Joel to open his eyes and look deep into yours. His lips part in awe as he glances down at your lips. Even though your mouth is squished, he still looks at you like your the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. That’s when he presses his lips on yours. Kissing you deeply, taking your breath away. It’s not a soft kiss by any means. He is putting a good amount of force into the kiss while also keeping your head still so you have no type of give in your neck. Soon you feel his tongue lick your lips, unable to keep his tongue out of your mouth, you have no choice but to open your lips a little wider than they already are and accept his tongue on your mouth. Joel roughly sticks his tongue in, licking all around the inside as though he’s trying to eat your face.

After a few minutes of a sloppy makeout session, Joel pulls away, letting go of your face. Moving down your neck, leaving a trail of wet open mouthed kisses. His large hands roaming all over your body, caressing up and down your sides before he raises one hand and grabs your tit giving it a squeeze. You let out a moan at that, having never been felt up before, it feels so good. Your moan spurs Joel on and pulls your dress down, revealing your breasts to him. Looking down at your boobs, Joel smiles, looking quite pleased with himself before darting his head down and capturing a nipple in his mouth.

“Ooh o-oh. Joel t-that feels so good.” You say breathlessly, looking down at the man suckling your breast. He twirls his tongue around, flicking your nipple with his tongue causing them to harden before he lightly bites down. Letting go of your tit, Joel gives you a smirk before he makes his way back down your body. His face back in between your thighs. Poking out his tongue, he gives your slit a light lick as if he was testing out to see your reaction. You couldn’t help but suck in air, completely entranced to see what he does next. That’s when Joel dives right in, holding your lips open with his thumbs as he licks a wide stripe from the bottom of your pussy up to your clit. The wet muscle then begins to flick and twirl all around your clit but never on it. He’s so close to where you want him. But the feeling of his tongue all over your pussy is the most exquisite feeling you’ve ever had. You can’t help but roll your eyes back as you reach down and card your fingers through his hair, intertwining your fingers in his brown curls. The slight tug of his hair has Joel whimpering into your pussy. Joel lives for praise, he needs to be told how good he is so feeling you let go and hold onto him has him even harder.

You’ve never felt like this before. It’s almost as if your on a roller coaster about to go over the drop. That’s when you feel a thick finger probe your opening. Joel tests your cunt to see just how tight you are, barely able to get his finger inside of you, “Relax baby ‘sokay it’s supposed to feel good.” He says as he works his finger into you more. Once he’s able to insert his finger, he lets it sit there for a beat before he starts pumping his finger in and out. The feeling causing your whole body to heat up, at first it hurt but now. Oh fuck now, it feels so incredibly good. You start breathing harder, moaning more, legs start to shake as Joel begins to finger you even harder. You feel your wetness gush out of you and soon you feel yourself go over the drop of a roller coaster you’ve found yourself on.

“Fuck that’s it baby fuck yea you’re ready for me now” Joel says breathlessly, excited to pop your pretty little cherry. Taking his finger out, he quickly gets off the bed and takes his overalls off revealing his thick, hard cock that’s already weeping with precum.

Joel takes himself in hand, giving his dick a few pumps, “This is all for you angel. Gonna make that cunt mine.” He says as he gets back on the bed, pulling you down so your on your back, underneath him. Still high off of your orgasm, all you can do is lay there. Your whole body feels like jelly. You feel Joel swipe his cock through your folds a few times before you feel him start to push the tip in. That’s when your whole body seizes up from the sharp pain.

“Ouch! Wait! Please, it hurts!” You try to plead with him, your words cause him to stop for a second as he looks down where your bodies are connected.

“Shh baby it’ll be over soon. The pain doesn’t last long. Just take it like a big girl.” He says, “just relax f’ me”

Joel watches you take a deep breath and he plunges his cock all the way in your freshly popped pussy. The shock of it all, the pain is almost unbearable. After a few seconds of his cock being inside of you, Joel being nice enough to give you some time to adjust to him, it begins to feel . . good? You can feel his cock throb inside of you, making your pussy get wetter.

“M-move. Please” you stutter. Joel grunts at that, pleased you relaxed enough he was able to fully get inside of you in one swift thrust. He starts to thrust, going hard with no real build up to the pounding he is now unleashing on your cunt. After a few minutes of Joel thrusting on top of you, grunting and sweating in your face, his movements start to stutter.

“Oh fuck oh fuck baby I’m gonna cum I’m gonna c- uuuhhng!” He grunts as he fills your pussy with his huge load. Ropes and ropes of cum shooting deep into your womb, so much so that it starts to leak out of you.

Joel pulls himself out of you and sees his cum leaking, tsking “Now we can’t have that. Nah that needs to stay right in there.” He says as he gathers his cum on his fingers and pushes it back in your sore pussy. Once satisfied with his work, Joel sits back on his calf’s admiring you.

“So fucking pretty like this baby. But you made a goddamn mess. My sheets are all wet and bloody. You know why it’s all bloody baby?” He says in a sarcastic tone, “because I fucked you. I popped your pretty little cherry and now you belong to me.” he says snarling at you. Still, you haven’t moved a muscle, continuing to lay there scared of what he’s gonna do next now that he’s had his way with you. Joel grabs you by your arm, dragging you off the bed. Dumping you on the floor he goes to tug the sheets off his bed. Throwing the soiled sheets on the floor next to you, Joel turns and walks out of the bedroom to grab fresh sheets.

When he walks back in, that’s when you finally get some strength and stand up. Shaking like a leaf behind him as he struggles getting the fitted sheet onto his bed, you start to slowly inch you way towards the door, ready to run for your life.

All too soon, Joel finishes with the sheets and turns around only to see you standing close to the door. Staring at each other you break your eye contact to glance at the door and back at him. Joel then glances at the door and back at you right as you lunge towards the exit letting out a scream as you do so. Except Joel manages to slam his body into the door before you get there, shutting it with his body as he grabs you by the arm again, “aht now what do you think your doing sugar? Just gonna ride me hard and put me away wet? You’re mine now, you’re gonna keep your sweet little ass in my house. Warm my bed!” He tells you, shaking you with each word as if it’ll shake some sense into you.

“I wasn’t leaving! I promise! I-I I need to use the bathroom! I wanna clean myself up for you! Yea yea I wanna clean up so I smell good and look good. All for you Joel.” You try to sound convincing knowing damn well he sees right through your words. Joel just purses his lips and gives you this ‘do you think I’m that dumb?’ look. Yanking you over back over to his bed he shoves you on it.

“Get your ass up there. I’m fucking tired so we’re going to bed now. I’ll give you the grand tour of our house in the morning baby.” He says as he gets in bed next to you. Terrified you do as he says, there’s a good chance he’s a heavy sleeper and you’ll be able to sneak off once he’s asleep. Joel pulls the blanket over the two of you, you on your back and him on his side facing you. Once under the blanket, Joel wraps his arm around you, giving you a tight squeeze.

“Sweet dreams sugar and welcome to your new life.” He says in a sleepy voice.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Joel managed to keep his arm wrapped around you all night long. The sun is starting to come up and you haven’t been able to get away all night. That’s when Joel grunts in his sleep and rolls over, releasing you from his grasp.

This is it! This is my chance! I gotta go before he wakes up! Oh my god oh fuck okay I can do this. I will do this, you think as you slowly slip out from underneath the blanket and pour yourself slowly out of the bed. Joel continues to snore, oblivious to your actions. Walking on tip toes you make it to the door, stopping to check to make sure Joel hasn’t heard you yet. You manage to crack open the door just a little before it starts to creek. Scared, you stop all movement. Staying absolutely frozen to the spot, you hear Joel stop snoring and start to move around. After what felt like a century, Joel begins to snore again. Your heart has never beat so fast in your life. Taking a deep breath you continue on your top toes out of the bedroom into a hallway. Moving as quickly and quietly as you can, you walk past a couple of bedrooms before making it to a set of stairs.

Oh my god I’m doing it! I’m so close! Thank god!! Okay okay I’ve got this! You give yourself a pep talk in your head as you make your way downstairs and over to the front door. Fucking hell. There’s so many locks!! Shit shit okay calm down! Start with the first one and work your way up. You begin to unlock the bottoms lock. Click. Whew! Okay now next lock. As your turning the lock you hear the floor creek behind you. And that’s when you feel him at your back.

“Now where the hell do you think your going?” Comes the gruff voice of a man who woke up to his new woman sneaking out.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

“A new body has just been discovered. This is coming a week after the discovery of four new victims of the Scare Crow killer. A female, believed to be in her twenties, has been found impaled by a wooden post, her body dismembered and limbs sown back on and gutted, dressed up as a scarecrow.”

Joel sits down at his kitchen table with a bowl of cereal, watching the little tv he has sitting on the counter to keep him company. Huffing at todays news as he digs in, “It’s a shame. I liked that one. Really hoped she keep my bed warm for a lot longer.” He says out loud as milk drips down his chin.

A/n: whew! Okay this is a hefty boy! This literally came from @multiversed-daydreamer going “I need farmer Joel to be a serial killer and chase people in the corn maze” as soon as I read that, Farmer Joel was born. Obviously this is very much horror, I took inspo from horror movies. I kept returning to the 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the 1995 Texas chainsaw: the next generation while writing this, while also using other slasher movie elements. This is a one shot. I doubt I’ll ever return to farmer Joel but I did have fun writing this and just going balls to the wall with the horror lol

I’m not going to tag anybody just because of the nature of this. 💜

#Joel Miller #serial killer!joel #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #horror writing #horrorblr #spooky fic #spooky season #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #tlou #joel miller fic #dark!joel miller

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whiskeynwriting · 1 year

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How would 141 react to their s/o getting pregnant?

Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” McTavish, Captain John Price, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

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Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Mentions/discussions of… pregnancy, marriage, sex, loss/death.

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A/N: This just randomly came to me and I’m living for it.

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Simon “Ghost” Riley

He’d be nervous, filled with more anxiety than missions often do. And if he’s honest with himself, he wouldn’t be happy about it, not at first.

“Simon?” All he does is look up at you, his head still hung low while he sits on the sofa. “Are… you okay?”

Groaning, he drags a hand over his face, shaking his head. “I’m not okay with this.”

And it truly breaks your heart to hear him say it.

“I can’t… can’t provide for you. For it - them.”

“Baby,” Sitting by his side, you place a gentle palm on his thigh. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“You could lose me.” He states, looking over to stare into your eyes. “Any day, at any point. You know that, right?”

“I’ve always known that…” But you hate talking about it. “But even if I did… now, I’d always have a piece of you.”

And that softens him, softens him right to the core.

“I…” Glancing down, your hand gravitates naturally to your lower belly. “I want this baby, Si.”

Hearing the small crack in your voice tugs at his heartstrings. Honestly, he’s never considered having kids before, not in his entire life. The two of you have never talked about it and he’s never wanted to. His dad was fucked up, fucked him up, and he’s not sure he’d be able to do any better.

“Darling I,” Choking on his words, he swallows thickly before continuing. “I don’t know if I’d be a good dad.”

Grinning, you playfully poke his side, “That mean I’m not gonna be a single mom?”

He scoffs, turning his head away briefly. “Don’t know how you could even think that.” And now, he’s looking at your stomach, sighing. “I already worry so much about you.”

“Why, baby?”

“Anyone finds out about me, and they’re gonna find you. I don’t want anyone finding you.” And you understand what he means. His military family has welcomed you with open arms, but they deal with enemies regularly. Enemies that kill for sport, some even more than Simon does.

“This is a challenge, a big challenge.”

“I know, it is for me too, baby.” And when you point this out, his mindset changes. Here you are seeking comfort and security and he’s giving you anything but.

“I don’t want you to think I’d ever leave.” He expresses wholeheartedly, reaching for your hand. And then he’s releasing a heavy breath, ready to make his decision on this. “What kind of a man would I be to let a little baby scare me away?”

John “Soap” McTavish

Jesus, he’d be so over the moon. It’s adorable just how giddy he is when you finally tell him. And while you expected him to be happy, you didn’t think it’d be to this extent.

“Johnny,” You laugh, feeling his arms wrap around your upper thighs.

He’s kneeling, grinning uncontrollably as he kisses your belly. Those big, azure eyes turned wide the moment you told him, and almost immediately, he fell to his knees.

“Oh, you’re gonna be just beautiful.” He sighs, turning his head to rest his cheek against you. Nuzzling gently, he closes his eyes, mumbling, “Just beautiful…”

“Hm…” Humming happily, you stroke his hair, grinning down at him. “You’re excited to be a daddy, baby?”

“M’eudail,” Releasing a gentle breath, he shakes his head. “You have no idea.” (My darling, my dear)

You hadn’t discussed it beforehand, it was in no way planned. But when you got the positive result, there wasn’t a second of hesitancy within you. He would be and was the first to find out. You always knew Johnny would be the best daddy.

“You’ve gotta stay here.” He then insists, looking up at you from his knees.

Raising your brows, you repeat, “Here?” And he nods, a goofy smile on his pretty face. “In the base?!”

“Yeah! We’ve got the best medics, babe. It’ll be so good, I promise you. And I’ll be able to see you every day, make sure you’re cared for.”

Right now, you’re in Johnny’s room, and while it’s comfortable for your nights together… you’re not exactly sure how it would do as a maternity room. And he sees you eyeing his space suspiciously, quick to pop up to his feet and hold your face.

“We wouldn’t stay here, we can get a bigger room. I’m sure Price’ll be fine with it, I’m sure of it.”

“Johnny, it’ll be okay if we can’t stay together, baby. We can just see each other like we do now.” You remind him gently, smiling at the father of your baby.

“No,” He insists, that full accent bubbling to the surface whenever his voice gets deep. “No way, no how. I’m stayin’ with you, with you and this baby.” And then, he’s grinning again and dropping back down to his knees.

Holding your sides, he stares at your covered tummy. “A wee baby.”

Captain John Price

At first, he tries to act dumb. He’ll claim you two were so careful, that you always tracked your cycle and took the necessary precautions. But it doesn’t take long for you to call him on his shit.

“No, actually you’re right. Busting a load into me three times a week is definitely careful.”

“We haven’t had condoms, alright?” He shoots back, a grin playing on the edges of his lips.

“John, we haven’t had them for more than a month!” You giggle, those chuckles erupting into full on laughter when he rolls his eyes again.

Eyeing your stomach, he then glances up at you. “So, you’re really baking, huh?”

“What?” Another bout of laughter bubbles from your lips, quirking your eyebrow at his strange comment.

Striding over to you, he grins, placing his hands on your hips. “Got a little bun in the oven?”

“How are you so calm about this?” You wonder, genuinely perplexed by it.

He shrugs, thumbs rubbing your clothed skin. “We’re a pretty solid team, aren’t we?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Then who’s to say we should be worried about this? Hm?”

While you’re surprised at his casual tone, it also serves to remind you of who this man truly is. John is sturdy, his mental arena a firm foundation that’s made him the man he is today, and that’s also allowed your relationship to build. He’s taken on so much in his life that he sees this predicament as any other task. It’s a situation he’s gotten himself into, and one that he’ll have to figure out. And who better to figure it out with than the love of his life?

“What do you think? Hm?” He asks, lifting a hand to cup your pretty face. “You wanna keep it?”

“Yes, I really do.” Nodding slowly, you smile, feeling unsure but excited. “Do you?”

“I want to keep every part of you.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your lower back to pull you into him. “And this baby is part of us, isn’t it?”

Internally, you feel warm from John’s love. It’s so easy to fall for him, how could it not be when he’s there to catch you? And he does so effortlessly, repeatedly, his genuine affection a soft blanket that you always cuddle into.

“Yeah,” Nodding, you can’t help the smile that plumps your cheeks.

Leaning in, John rests his forehead over your own, sighing. With both hands on your lower back, your own slide up along his chest until your arms are looping around his neck. The calm that surrounds the two of you is relaxing, reassuring, his sweet embrace everything you could need in this moment.

“I’m here, honey.” He whispers to you softly, “And I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

The only reason he’s not overtly happy is because of his own insecurities. He feels so new in his field and wants to be able to support you, wants to do everything he can to be the man of your soon to be small family.

“Aren’t you happy?” You ask, a hint of sadness in your voice.

“I am!” He clarifies, reaching for you. “I am, I really am.”

“Then… what is it?”

“I just,” Chuckling, he shakes his head a single time. “I’m kicking myself for not doing this properly.”

“Properly?”

“Yeah,” He shrugs, “Getting down on one knee, making you mine before you have our baby.”

“Kyle,” Grinning, you step closer to him. “I already am yours. We don’t need a wedding to start a family.”

And while he knows you’re right, he can’t stop thinking about it, about how he’d propose and the wedding you’d plan. You don’t need a piece of paper to say you can be together, you don’t, but still, it holds meaning to him.

After moving through the motions and letting the news settle in, he’d be more than ecstatic. He knows that the insecurities chattering away in the back of his head don’t have any real stance. Kyle has given you the world so far and he doesn’t plan to stop now. He’d take it upon himself to draw up a list, wanting you and the baby to have everything you need. There wouldn't be a single shopping trip where he wasn’t involved and getting extras of everything. He just wants to be prepared. But while he’s planning for your new baby, he’s also planning to take that step with you.

It would be after you’ve given birth, holding your new baby girl. He didn’t want to overwhelm you during your pregnancy and thought the day your daughter came into the world would only make it that much more special.

“Baby, what’re you…”

After she’s been fed, he’d swaddle her, placing her in the plastic crib the hospital offers. And that’s when he’d get down on one knee, sighing.

“I know we don’t need it,” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the box, eyes returning to yours as he opens it. “But I want it. I want you to be my wife.”

#this was so cute #i really loved making this #Simon Riley #Simon “Ghost” Riley #John McTavish #John “Soap” McTavish #John Price #Captain John Price #Kyle “Gaz” Garrick #task force 141 #cod #cod mw2

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zialltops · 5 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: howdy ya’ll! This chapter took me a HOT minute to finish because i’ve been severely sick (if you’ve been on this ride with me since esos you know i struggle with my health) but it’s finally here! I cant thank everyone enough for reading and as much as I wish i could hear from you guys more often, i’m just going to keep writing along and hope someone likes it! The smallest interactions bring me so much joy.

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Chapter 5: On My Way To You

He’s never been more humiliated in his entire fucking life. Never—not ever, has he ever felt this embarrassed about someone seeing him naked. He’s been shot down mid alleyway make-out when she’d pressed too close and felt it. He’s been left in a hotel room when he had a woman naked under him and he finally pulled his pants down. Hell—he’s been told it hurts, asked to stop—asked to leave. But never has it made his heart pound and his cheeks stain red, never made him wheeze from anxiety and dread.

He didn’t mean for it to happen—he’s been doing his best to avoid you, give you the space you want, but you’ve been nicer lately and it makes him want to get closer, test those waters and get to know you, but the second he lets himself start to give in, his body goes full force and he has to get away. Today was a hard day for him because he’d been up late the night before trying to rewire a break in the fence that let out three heifers and the little calf you’d saved on Christmas.

He’d crashed hard last night and woke up too late to work himself over before starting his day—it usually helps him keep his cool, but today he spent two hours hours in the saddle of one of Hank’s horses, moving the heifers getting ready to calf to a smaller pasture, the older steer that were about to be sold off from last years calves to a quarantine pen. It was mindless and easy and Joel spent the whole time thinking about you and your pretty eyes and the way you still wear that necklace every day, like you haven’t even thought to take it off.

By the time he stops by the house for something to drink, he’s already spent half his morning picturing you in every position possible—real like he’s never had it before. He’s smack dab in the middle of one of his favorite fantasies, one where you’re going down on him, fully aware of what’s under his belt buckle and wranglers. You’d be so sweet to him, make him feel desirable without feeling like a chore. You’d kiss the length of him over his denim, drag his pants down his thighs and you wouldn’t gasp in shock. You’d want him—your mouth would water for him and you’d give him those pouty lips and bright eyes when you finally run your tongue from base to tip—it would be perfect—

“Morning Joel.”

He’s so caught up in his vision of you in his head he’s completely unprepared for this version, with berries smeared on the corner of your mouth, like the jam is just too sweet for you to leave untasted—you’re swimming in a sweater too big for you and christ he hates when you wear legging, hugging every curve of your body, filling in the shape of your body like a shadow. He does his best to form a sentence, keep himself from staring at the necklace chain he can see poking out of your collar. you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it.

When you lick the spoon clean, his stomach hits the floor and his head spin’s suddenly from loss of blood as everything warm and tingly in his body travels south. He knows he has to get out of there, doesn’t have time to stand here for another second if he wants to keep what's going on in his pants to himself.

He’ll kick himself later for not giving you an excuse to run off, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter right now. He practically runs for the barn, the small bathroom inside is a well learned friend, where he can rub one out fast and get it out of his hungry system. His body is famished, starved for your skin and he isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.

He gets his pants down as fast as he can, spits in his hand and starts quick. God, the way you’d looked at him when he walked in there, like you were happy to see him for once, glad to share his company—if only he wasn’t such a complete piece of shit who can't take a kind gesture for just that.

He sees your smile and he wants to dig his hands into the meat of your ass and hoist you up. Wants to hold you down and take you apart with his mouth. Your eyes meet his and he wants to watch them roll back when you take all of him, like no one ever has, ever will but he can let himself imagine it in this tiny bathroom that smells like livestock and dirt. He can imagine the way you’d want it, want him. The way you’d tell him how good he felt, how good he made you feel despite what he’s always been told about himself.

Just a few more—a couple more tugs and he’s almost there, so fucking close to the thought of your body and his, and…and…

The next thing he knows your eyes are on him, then tick down to his hand wrapped around himself like the pathetic man he knows he is. He’ll never forget the way you looked at him, the way you told him how traumatized you were to see him like that, he’s sure it would have hurt less if you’d stabbed him in the heart with a dull knife.

He fucking runs back to the cabin and get’s himself under a cold shower, trying to keep his hair from getting wet so you don’t know while his body takes a shock to its system, flushing out the desire and replacing it for his shame. When he’s red and shaking from the cold, he re-dresses and heads back towards the house. The longer he hides, the more likely you are to piece together the odd string of occurrences surrounding his disappearances. The longer he waits, the more guilty he looks, so he forces himself up the stairs, trying his best to catch his breath outside of the door until he finally has the gull to knock. He knows you’re in there, he can faintly hear something, soft little sounds that he can't quite make out, so he calls your name when the small rasps don’t catch your attention.

He nearly leaves when the door finally comes open, and…fuck if you aren’t a sight for his painfully sore eyes. You’re red all over, stunning, breathing hard with wide eyes like you’ve been caught at something. Maybe you have, he can imagine, maybe you were touching yourself—thinking about him. It's a futile dream, but he lets himself have it anyways.

No matter how much he runs, how much he tries his hardest to stay away, everything you do ropes him in and hog ties him up, unable and unwilling to be moved until you’ve decided what to do with him now that everything he is, is yours.

It’s shame that keeps him from embarrassing himself again once he drives into town, because the way you press against him in the truck makes his skin boil. He doesn’t deserve to have you beside him after what you’d been forced to witness, but that doesn’t stop him. He wants to slip his hand along your thigh, wishes Tommy wasn’t sitting beside you and he could stuff his hand down the front of your leggings and show you a thing or two—he knows he’s good with his hands—his mouth, he has to be if he wants to get a woman off. He wants to show you exactly what he could do for you, to you, but he keeps his mouth closed and taps his fingers against the steering wheel the whole way. It’s infuriating, how much you get along with Tommy now, who’s been nothing but crude to you, making passes at you left and right and god help him, you let him. He wants you to talk to him like that too, he wants to make you laugh, make you giggle and blush prettily.

But he just loads the truck. Watches when you and Tommy snicker over a bottle of whiskey he knows he can't touch because last time he made a fool of himself. He tries not to intrude on your space, tries not to bother you and Tommy around the fire later after he’s done unloading the truck alone. Not even Tommy helps him around here anymore, too far up your ass that he’s damn near useless.

He watches from the window like a fucking creep, trying not to work himself up over the way you smile at his brother, the way you throw your head back laughing at something stupid he probably said. He wants that to be him, sitting beside you with whiskey making him bold, faking it for him since he doesn’t have the ability to just talk to you. He’s sure he’d tell you everything, how beautiful he thinks you are, how much smarter than him you are. He’d probably tell you how many times he’s thought about you with his hands wrapped around himself, in the dark of his room with your name on his lips.

He doesn’t do any of that, instead he watches you from the window and lets his heart ache and pound until he sees the way Tommy lingers closer, touches your leg absently and you let him. He has to put a stop to this, so he tracks out into the cold and tries to put his foot down. Maybe Tommy will go to bed, you’ll let him walk you home and it will be so cold that you’ll ask him to stay again. But before he has a second to beg you otherwise, you’re kissing his brother.

You’re kissing his brother instead of him and he can't watch for another second, so he hightails it inside and slams his bedroom door behind himself. He can usually hear right through Tommy’s wall, but he holds his hands over his ears and tries his hardest to keep the sound of his ragged breaths from making it through the walls. At some point, he falls asleep, wishing you were laying right beside him, sprawled out, satisfied and spent with the shape of his teeth on your shoulder.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s not even close to sun up yet. He has a long day ahead of him, has to ride up to the north pasture, acres upon acres of beautiful pine covered land, but Joel has to ensure that the streams aren’t frozen over if he wants to move the heifers and their calves there soon. He gets dressed with a ache in his bones that he knows didn’t come from his age, his stomach is in knots because he knows what's been done, he knows he can’t change it—that he might not ever stand a chance with you now that you’ve been with him. Women always preferred Tommy over him, all the same cowboy charm with a bit more confidence.

He slips on his boots and places his hat on his head before lingering in the hallway for a long moment. He stares at Tommys door and imagines you sleeping on the other side of it. Did you like it? Do you like him?

He turns and starts down the hallways when the door comes open with a slow creak. He turns back around in the dark light of the hallway and, there you are wearing one of Tommy’s shirts and nothing else, your hair is mused and you have this look on your face, one that reeds shame and worry and for what Joel just can't quite put his finger on. You don’t say anything for a long time, just Joel and you and the fading darkness outside, your eyes tracking over him with a shiny hue to them.

“Where are you going?” Where is he going is the first thing you have to say to him? Like he climbed out of your bed and snuck off. “I uhm…I have a long ride up to the north field, thought I would get a early start on it.” He clears his throat and glances down at his boots, then back up at you. “Though I should give ya’ll some space, no one wants their brother listenin’ in.”

He starts to turn away again because he can’t look at you for another second when he knows you have his saliva on your skin and the shapes of his hands on your body.

“Can I come with you?” Go with him? You want to go with him when there’s a warm body waiting for you in a warm bed, where you can hide from the cold world, the impending darkness and a man like him. “You want to go? Why?” You close the bedroom door behind you like you don't want to wake Tommy and it makes Joel’s heart pound out of his chest for reasons it shouldn’t. “I don't know, it’s cold out there, you’re uhm…you’re naked.”

He tries, really tries to keep his eyes off your bare thighs, the shirt hanging off your frame and your sock-less feet on the hardwood. “I’m not naked, I have underwear on,” you lift one side of the shirt like you have to prove it to him and his eyes track to the black lace hugging your hips. Saliva builds in his mouth and he clears his throat, needing to turn away from you again. “If you want to come you should probably put some clothes on, I’ll meet you in the stable.” He starts to gather up his things, a light and his phone, trying to make himself busy so he can get away. “Well, will you wait for me—I don’t want to walk alone.” And Joel doesn’t want to do this right now, walk with you for a half mile back to the stables, sit beside you, wondering if it aches sitting in the saddle because his brother fucked you.

But he waits anyway, fiddles with the brim of his hat while he sits on the couch in silence as he waits for you to get dressed. You come out in your clothes from the night before, bundled up in a big jacket with your hair tied back. He tells himself not to think about it and heads towards the door. The walk to the stables is nearly silent, but the pounding in his ears drowns out the awkwardness in the interaction. How can he stop thinking about it? How you slept with him but dragged yourself out of bed to follow Joel into the cold? How you would trade a warm body for Joel’s cold shoulder?

“Need help with your saddle?” His voice feels raw from not using it, his hands aching from the cold while he cinches up the girth strap. This time next year, hell be saddling up Cersi to take this trip, he cant wait, but for now he’ll ride Hanks sturdy horse through the mud and snow. “I’ve got it, thank you.” There's no snap in your tone like he expects there to be and you work with him in unison, getting your mounts ready while the sun starts to climb into the atmosphere. By the time he gets out of the barn, you’re smiling at him. Smiling from your spot in the saddle with the reigns in your hands like you’re made for that.

“You ready to get a move on, cowboy?” His chest tightens at the way you gaze at him, wondering if you’d given Tommy that same look the night before. He wants to pretend it was all for him, pretend that you’re looking at him like that because you see something you haven’t before.

“You ready, cowgirl? When's the last time you were in a saddle?” He tries his damndest to keep his tone light as he hooks a foot in the stirrup and hoists himself up. “Been a couple years, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget how to ride.”

Did you practice last night? He shakes his head and wills away the image. He doesn’t think he'll be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the ride, he can’t get the image of your mouth on his out of his head no matter how much he tries. It’s always fucking Tommy. He’s always been the favored brother, no matter how much of a fuck up he is. He’s always been the one to get the girl, the popular one in school, hell even his wife—

“You okay in there cowboy?”

Your voice comes like a shock to his system, snapping him out of another unpleasant memory. “Huh?” He looks around until he lays eyes on you, riding beside him with your hands resting on the horn of the saddle. “I was asking if you’re okay…you’ve been really quiet for the past half hour.” Half an hour? It's been a half hour since he started this ride? “Yeah, no, sorry. I have a lot on my mind, is all.” You pick up the pace beside him a little, till your horses are walking alongside each-other on the path. “Anything you want to talk about?”

He sits on the words for a second. He doesn’t want to talk about it, not particularly—but its you and your asking him and fuck, he wants you to get to know him. Maybe if you knew who he was, maybe if he had a chance to explain why he’s like this you might change your mind.

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout my ex-wife.” He keeps his eyes ahead of him, because he doesn’t want to see the look on your face when you hear that, that he had a whole other life away from this place. “My mom told me you had an ex-wife. She didn’t tell me what happened.”

You knew? He’d told Hank and Louise a lot about his life, he had to if he wanted them to trust him. He wasn’t a bad man, just a burdened one. “We uh…we had a rocky marriage. Got together young, right out of high school. I was learning to work a cattle ranch and I thought I would be able to give her a good life but—she wanted more, I suppose. Started steppin’ out on me. She got pregnant by another man, but I still didn’t leave. Helped raise that little girl like she was my own.”

He thinks about Sarah and her curly hair that definitely didn’t come from him or her mom, her sweet smile, her first day of school—all the things he missed.

“What made you finally leave?” Your voice is so quiet beside him. He looks over at you under the brim of his hat and sighs. “She slept with Tommy. Came home from picking up Sarah from school and I…caught ‘em together in bed. Tommy said he did it because he wanted to prove to me that she wasn’t any good for me but, I don’t know, I’ve never been very good and stayin’ angry at him.”

Your eyes look far away in that moment, like you’re clouded in some kind of guilt, maybe because you’d slept with Tommy, too. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Joel.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head absently. “Ain’t no thing. I’m used to it by now, he’s always had a way with ‘em that I never had.”

He has, Joel can't even recall every encounter he’s had with a woman that ended with them leaving with his brother. Hell, it had been five years since the last time he’d (kind of) had sex, no thanks to his cockblocker of a brother. The first time in years since he’s felt more than just attraction to a woman and Tommy takes that from him too.

“We should get a move on, we don’t have all day and I have a lot to do when I get back.”

He digs his heal in and the horse picks up speed and to his surprise, you keep gate with him along the trail.

When he gets to the gate of the north pasture, his ass hurts from being in the saddle and his face feels wind chapped, but you don’t complain about a lick of it, like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now. “Joel?” He’s closing the gate behind you when you call his name. It makes him look up from the latch. “Yeah?” He gets it in place and mounts his horse again, adjusting his hat on his head. “I’m really sorry, about how I treated you when I first came home.”

Fuck do you have to do this right now? Out here, where he has nowhere to run off to? “You're not the one who needs to be sorry. I never should have done half the things I did to you. I didn’t even know you and I assumed the worst of you. Should’ve never done any of that to you.” He never should have left you in the cold, never should have treated you any differently than anyone else because he thought you came from somewhere that didn’t like folks like him when he really likes girls like you. So smart and put together, so capable and confident.

“We got off on a bad foot, I suppose…do you think maybe we could…start over?”

You want to start over? With him? give him a second shot to not fuck this up again? Or maybe you don’t mean it like that, like he desperately wants it to mean, even if you fucked his brother last night, he doesn’t care, he’d take his sloppy seconds any day because it’s you.

“I’d really like that.” There's a sweet kind of shimmer in your eyes when you smile at him, rosey cheeks and a crinkle by your kind eyes. His sight ticks down to your chest, where he can see the necklace he’d given you sticking out of the top. You’re still wearing it, had you worn it last night? When he laid you down on his cold sheets while Joel wished desperately it was his?

Despite the pang in his chest, the rest of the ride is easy and light, you talk about nothing and absolutely everything, your favorite color, your favorite time of the year, Joel tells you how much he loves the spring and you excitedly agree, going on and on about watching the world come back to life.

You tell him about college, how out of place you felt surrounded by people who were so different from you. How nervous you were for the first year, but you’d made a best friend out of your room mate Mel, and you finally got the hang of it in your second year.

He tells you about drifting from place to place because Tommy usually stirs up some trouble and runs them out of town. He tells you about all the times he’s had to save his ass to your parents and how much he’s tried to hang on to the one good place he’s had in so long. He could talk to you for hours, all day if you’d let him, and you do. You hold his conversations like you’re a pair of old friends, catching up after years spent apart.

He’s so lost in you that he doesn’t even realize you’re back home until the house comes into view. He’s spent so much time immersing himself in talking to you that he’s completely lost track of where he is, letting the miles blow past him. It’s mid day and he still has a lot to do and he can tell you’re starting to get sore in the saddle. “I’ll get them cooled down, you should probably get some rest. You couldn’t of gotten much sleep last night.” He swings his leg over and climbs off the horse before taking yours by the halter so you can do the same. “Thank you for today…it’s been a while since I’ve had a good reason to ride.” You give him one of those smiles again and it takes everything in him not to lean in and kiss you because of it. He’s wanted to kiss you all damn day, slide his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull and hold on tight, slot his lips over yours and breathe you in deep until he can’t let you go again.

He doesn’t and you head off towards the house while he looks on. He watches till you make it inside and then some before getting back to his chores.

Work consumes the entirety of his day, until the sun sets and it starts to get dark and chilly when he’s finally got the animals fed and the equipment locked up. He knows Tommy is back at the cabin because he dropped off a plate of dinner to Joel in the stable on his way home. He’s about to start the walk back to the cabin himself when he hears the creak of the screen door on the house just across the yard. He closes the barn door behind himself and follows the sounds. You’re standing on the porch in a pair of sleep shorts and slippers, a tee-shirt that's too big and a nervous look on your face. You don't say anything, but Joel’s feet carry him to the steps, then up them one at a time, carefully and painfully slow, like he might spook you away if he moves too quickly. The wind is absolutely howling right now, whipping your hair around and cinching your shirt tight against your frame.

He hits the landing and takes a few more steps forward, until he’s a foot away from your shaking form, your big pretty eyes that are searching every corner of his. He should say something, he should say how much he enjoyed today, how much he wants to do it again and again and again.

“I didn’t have sex with him.”

It’s not what he expected you to say standing out here in this unforgiving cold, but its the best damn thing he’s heard you say all day. It feels like an endless weight coming off his shoulders and he lets out a loud gush of air he didn’t know he was holding. “What?” You puff your chest out a little, like you’re trying to get a point across to him. “I didn't have sex with Tommy last night.” You say it so matter of factly.

“Why didn’t you?” He reaches up and pushes his hat up a little, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His heart is pounding, his limbs shaking at the admission. “You know why.”

All at once, his pounding heart comes to a staggering stop, standing there on the porch looking down at you while he tries to keep himself upright. He doesn’t know why but the way you're looking at him now tells him there's something else here besides anger and hatred and shared distaste. You didn’t sleep with Tommy, because on the other side of that wall you were wanting him just as desperately as he wanted you.

“It’s cold out here…do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

Joel’s bottom lip quivers so much he has to suck it into his mouth to make it stop, bite down on it to put it at ease. “Yeah, I…I’d like that.”

A warm little hand finds his, tentative fingers intertwined with his while you lead him inside of the house. You don’t take him upstairs, Joel doesn’t expect you to. You lead him to the couch and he sits down, kicking off his boots when you reach up for his hat. You set it on the arm rest beside him and grab a blanket off the back of the couch when he lays himself back on the pillow.

His body aches, his eyes feel heavy, but he doesn’t dare close them when he’s got an angel standing right before his eyes. “Goodnight, Cowboy.” You hum sweetly, lean down and press your lips against the apple of his cheek, more delicate than he’s ever been touched before in his entire fucking life.

When you pull away, those same cheeks are painted pink and he does his best not to grin too stupidly. “Goodnight, Cowgirl.”

You take the stairs up to your room but Joel rides the elevator to heaven from his spot on the living room couch.

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