#I was burnt out. Crushed... Completely. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whosjunglejim4322 · 5 months

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Reconcile- E.M (S)

Smut!, fluff because uhm how could I not, angst! cause you guys are pent up from stress and this is basically a make up sex fic teehee, mentions of weed, brief arguing, Y’all just desperate and gross, Eddie fucks you till you cry and talks you through it like the slut he is, he cums inside of you, makes sure to fuck all that attitude away, PUSSY EATING, very graphic descriptions of passionate n nasty intercourse

You hadn’t foreseen this happening.

Sure, you and Ed’s have gotten into little disputes before. Petty, insignificant quarrels about whether or not the other person actually took out the garbage or who would pay next date night. Two years is still short to some, for you and Eddie it felt like forever and yesterday all in the same universe. Heavenly, and mundane.

But this is a different beast all together. This morning makes day two that you two have had this weird, suffocating energy between both of you. The antagonist of this situation, is undoubtedly the conversation that was had at Steve’s weekend hangout.

A few hits from a joint, a shot or two of tequila and goofy sentences being passed around between two best friends. You and Robin being the spectators, content in your own little bubble, puffing on a spliff of your own. Heavy, fluffy blankets kept you warm, gave you weight to lean on when your head began to feel like it might float away.

The Christmas lights and the hum of the deep freezer in the corner of Steve’s basement almost distracted you completely in your haze, until it didn’t. Until Chrissy Cunningham came up. Until it was an innocent giggling fit about whether or not Chrissy ever had a crush on Eddie, the oxymoron in and of itself.

“Imagine that ever happening,” Steve chuckled, lightheartedly, taking a sip of his Diet Pepsi. “can’t say I can’t see it. She wanted you for sure, dude.”

Your ears twitched. Eyes thinning into inquisitive slits. Nothing about Steve’s tone was meant to be rude, or disrespectful, but the nature of the comment itself felt awkward and uncomfortable underneath your skin.

You almost turned your attention back to the Walkman blasting David Bowie. Almost.

“I saw her the other day, she came in for an oil change. Honestly, I never would’ve even thought she wanted me,” Eddie takes another rip of his bong. “But then she asked me if I do at home visits. Said she wanted to catch up with me.”

Maybe your reptilian brain overreacted. Or, maybe it didn’t. Honestly, you don’t blame yourself completely for the way you reacted after that statement. Nothing else he said after that mattered. All you could hear was your heartbeat in your own ears. Loud, thunderous

“I told her I wouldn’t do that, obviously.”

White noise.

And not only were you intoxicated, but you were already burnt out from work and school, touch starved from not having any time with your boyfriend as of late. A period of your current reality that you know will pass as all things do in life; but it was too much. This hangout was supposed to be somewhat intimate, something for you to both do together. A simplicity that normally wouldn’t even have to be mentioned. You and Eddie exist on the same axis.

The blanket became too heavy and the smoke in the room threatened to choke you further. You all but threw the fluffy cover off of you and stormed out. You heard Robin call after you, and Eddie. A pair of voices that meshed together like the drum line in a song that is so in sync with the guitar chorus that you can barely decipher it. The steps spin, but you manage to stay upright.

Cold November air chilled your face, your neck. You too a deep breath in while marching to the van parked just a few feet away on the newly slabbed pavement of Steve’s home. His parents are at their lake house so often that Steve claims their Hawkins residence as his own.

Predictably, a heavy thump of boots followed closely behind you. The scrape of worn soles and the squeak of an old leather jacket. A billow of smoke follows him, clings onto him like jasmine and rosemary to the freshly bathed. Your back felt like the warning signs at a crossroad. He felt helpless.

“Baby, hey,” he sounded breathless, desperate and confused. He’s never seen you so upset that you’d just walk out unprompted. “stop walking god dammit, please.”

You stopped reluctantly, the tears of frustration in your waterline blurring your vision of the violet, cloudless skyline. A wide, warm palm touched your shoulder and the heat seared you even through your hoodie. You flinched away instinctively, sore in your limbs from your own concoction of emotions. When you met his eyes, they were wide. Like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun in its own home.

Your face must have been something to see. A scowl, a mirror of sadness reflected in his umber eyes. Angry. He’d never seen you look at him that way. It felt like having his intestines twisted between two cold hands.

“You didn’t tell me that happened.”

You stated it plainly, but spitefully in nature. Your voice cracked and it made a brewing tear spill over your waterline and down the plump of your cheek. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort you, but knew he couldn’t. Knew you would likely flinch away like you did five seconds ago and he didn’t think he would physically be able to bear you trying to get away from him again.

He didn’t exactly know what was making you so upset. The conversation wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have said in front of you, which is why all of it was said in front of you. Perhaps his own intoxication made it hard to fully understand the velocity of his words, what they meant and how they could’ve been interpreted from your point of view.

“I didn’t think it was important.” His thick brows scrunched and deepened the wrinkle between them. You looked like your eyes might bulge out of your head.

You nearly choked on your own spit, the words to your reply getting caught square in the middle of your throat; and so you said nothing. You stepped forward, and then past him. And he realized too late that you were walking away from him.

“I’m gonna ask Steve to take me home.”

He was too stunned to speak. To react. To stop you, to plead for you to tell him what he did wrong. Or at least how to fix it. He felt himself crumble on the inside, like his bones were made of ash.

When he got back to the trailer that night, you weren’t there. And that’s when it all really set in. That he fucked up. For the past two weeks you’ve been here with him, playing house while Wayne caught a gig further up north. He thought, he thought that when you said home, maybe you meant here. With him.

He called that night, almost ten times. You answered on the eighth.

“I’m at my apartment Ed’s, I’m fine. I don’t want to argue, or talk. I just need to be by myself right now.”

He felt paralyzed by the pang in his chest. More so, he felt angry. Genuinely angry, and not just at himself, but selfishly, at you.

“Fine, glad you’re safe.”

He nearly broke the fucking landline.

Your eyes have to adjust to the brightness of your living room. Well, your bedroom, slash living room, slash kitchen. A studio in Hawkins is relatively affordable, but they aren’t lying when they say it’s a studio. The events from yesterday scream in your head instantly, along with the pounding of your pulse. Your bed is almost unfamiliar at this point, the blankets not worn enough, the sheets the scent of fresh dryer sheets instead of you and Eddie’s shared scent.

The beeping of your answering machine pulls you back down to reality, though not one you want to participate in currently. Unfortunately, you have no other choice.

They’re all from Eddie of course, and now that you’re not high you feel those wounds from the night before coming back, sticking you in the chest, ribs, liver. Along with the pain, you feel guilty. For your less than mature reaction. Though you know you can’t blame yourself, not having ever been in that situation. You’re human and reacted as so. But he’s your Eddie.

You listen to the last message, sent twenty five minutes ago.

“I’m coming over in thirty minutes, I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We are going to talk this out. I love you.”

You huff in frustration, though you can’t say you aren’t relieved. Relieved that he’s coming, that he’s not giving up over some quarrel about Chrissy Cunningham. You have a tendency to think the entire world is caving in around you upon one minor inconvenience. This disruption in your daily routine feels like Armageddon.

You have time to brush your teeth and rinse the remaining paste off of your mouth before your front door opens. If you didn’t recognize his footsteps so well, it might be off putting to have someone just waltz into your home.

The bathroom door is open, so he spots you immediately, slipping off his worn in boots and placing them beside the door. He takes his leather jacket off and puts it over the stool that sits at your kitchen island. It makes your face hot, still. The ease in which you two have melded into each others lives. Even if you��re angry at him.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed’s.” It’s a lie. You walk past him to the kitchen and open the fridge, hiding from his gaze as you pretend to search for something. He clears his throat and you reluctantly close the refrigerator door, staring at the floor and backing yourself against the sink.

“I just - you’ve never left. Without telling me. Or talking to me. And, fuck I-“ he’s stammering already, taking steady breaths and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think I had to tell you about an insignificant interaction with Chrissy Cunningham.”

You scoff, although it’s more of a giggle. And he looks at you like you’ve just lost your mind. Rare, for Eddie Munson to think someone else has lost their mind.

“Well you and Steve sure seemed to enjoy talking about it. You both were pretty giddy discussing whether or not Chrissy wanted to, or, sorry -“ you’re being defensive. Rude. You can’t help it. “wants to fuck you. Why would I want to hear about that? Why would I want to hear you guys talk about whether or not you both can see you and Chrissy together? Does that not sound incredibly fucked up, Ed’s?”

So much for not talking. Now it’s spilling out like a cracked flower vase. Your chest is heaving rapidly, face and body hot with anger. Your arms are crossed across your chest, a protection against whatever it is he might say, despite the fact that you’re the one who’s being rhetorical.

He shoves his ringed fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling lightly at the roots as he closes his eyes, contemplating. Seeing things through your eyes, attempting to. He winces.

“That’s not what we were trying to say,” he bites his cheek. “I mean I know it doesn’t matter what we were trying to say, the conversation shouldn’t have happened, but I can’t take it back. For fucks sake.”

He’s murmuring to himself, rubbing his rough palms over his tired face. He’s wearing one of your favorite tee shirts of his to steal. Iron Maiden. The sleeves are short enough to reveal the splattering of ink that crawls up his biceps. When his muscles move underneath his skin, the ink moves with them. It’s captured your attention suddenly, and now you’re raking your eyes over his entire figure.

Familiar black sweats cling onto his lower half. They fit perfectly on his lithe waist, loose on the rest. Except for his ass. He has a really cute ass. And these sweats specifically accentuate the shape before billowing down his thighs.

“Baby? You with me?”

The low timbre of his voice shakes you from your reverie. You’ve simmered off, the anger replaced with a different heat. It’s been too long since the two of you have just been together, this fight might be the most communication you’ve had in the past week due to your jobs, and school. Or the worries of the world, the overwhelming need to sleep when you aren’t working, to work when you aren’t sleeping.

You’ve forgotten about each other. Briefly, but not inevitably. Never that. You feel like you may collapse.

“I’m- yeah I’m with you.”

You let out a sigh, uncrossing your arms. You look and sound as defeated as you feel. He can’t pretend to not have noticed your silky, thin sleeping gown, but he is just a man. And your nipples are hard underneath the garment and he has never not thought you’re one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever seen. You haven’t worn it in a while, preferring his clothes to sleep in since you’ve been staying with him. He missed seeing you like this.

He steps closer. Tentatively, afraid you might run away from him. You sense his hesitancy and a piece of your heart breaks, the piece where he lives. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him, glancing from his mouth then back up to his softening gaze. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He says, earnestly. His hands threaten to tremble when you reach out and grab them, heavy in your own. He hovers above you the closer he gets, your limbs connecting in a symbiotic way. One you feel the others skin, you can’t get away from it. Not until you’re pressed together, belly to belly, your chin tilted upward.

“You - ugh.” You can’t get words out anymore. They dissolve in your larynx and your head falls, the need to cry or scream or kiss him an overwhelming choice.

“I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He pats down your hair, rough thumbs caressing the softness of your cheeks. He pulls your face upwards again, staring down at you with regret, adoration, hunger.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just left.”

He leans closer, till you smell the coffee on his breath and the hazelnut creamer alike. Your noses bump and rub against the other, his thick eyelashes fanning across his own cheekbones - casting a fluttery shadow.

“It’s okay now. We’re okay now.” He says it softly, just between the little space left between you two. “Let me take care of it. Please.” He closes the gap.

Some people assume it’s not supposed to feel as good as it does, kissing someone who’s lips you’ve mapped out like an atlas. That couldn’t be further from the truth, because kissing Eddie feels like being consumed.

And not just metaphorically, because it’s evident in the nips to your bottom lip, the sucking of your tongue whenever he feels it lick his teeth; that your small period of separation, and longer period of not having indulged each other, has weighed heavily on him as well. He’s starving.

You’re overtaken within seconds by the veracity of his mouth, your fingers taking purchase in the curls at his crown. Smacks and kisses and wet noises fill the small space, and the center of your stomach swells with a simmering heat. A reminder of how neglectful you both have been. Your nipples harden against him, as his dick twitches between his legs.

You feel nervous. Tentative. Excited.

His hands implore you like a new discovery, grasping at your back, and then down the sensitive slopes of your sides and over the plushness of your hips. Through the silky nightgown the sensation is riveting, enough to drive a person insane. You arch against him, and a whimper escapes your mouth into his throat.

“Mmm, mhm.” He groans.

“Eddie,” it’s a cry, wanton sound that makes him rut himself against you instinctively. Anything to relieve you. Anything to relieve himself. “baby.”

He smiles against your mouth, pecking it a few times before departing only for a second to see your kiss bitten lips, his and your spit coating your mouth. Your blown out pupils. He mirrors your appearance, like a wild creature.

“Never again,” his index fingers knuckle strokes the inside of your thigh, and you shudder, holding onto his broad shoulders for an anchor. You separate your legs without thinking. “we will never go through this again. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Three knuckles stroke your pubic mound, then down your covered slit where dampness threatens to leak. Your fingernails grip his shirt, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted in anticipation. He’s so warm, so palpable. You want him to bury himself inside of you.

He’s in front of you, and then he’s not. You blink, and hair tickles your thighs like you’re frolicking through an overgrown field. Strong, rough hands lift the delicate silk of your nightie until it’s being bunched between ringed fingers above your navel. He’s on his knees, devout for you.

You gasp when his tongue broadens against your center. Your panties are just enough barrier to make you wanna cry out in desperation, while also offering enough sensation to not dare stop for even a moment to pull them off. You’re at his mercy. Or is he at yours? Neither of you know anymore, and it’s not important.

Not when he gets a taste of you. Not when he peers up at you between lust sodden lashes and sees you looking down at him like you’re about to crumble. Your knees shake and he bunches the nightie in one fist instead of two, placing his free hand on the back of your thighs to steady you while he soaks your underwear with the spit from his tongue.

The shape of your slit and the plump lips around it begins to show its phantom form through the material from the soaking. He sucks, prods with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Ed’s, fuck.” Your voice is so weak. His cock weeps in his sweats, dribbling with copious amounts of precum. It’s torturous to not touch himself but he’s too focused on watching you, pleasing you. You hums against your mound, mocking you.

He pulls the elastic to the side, not patient enough to take them off all the way. You get to see his face for a split second, cherry red cheeks and a messy halo of hair and stubble on his chin. And then, you feel it.

His nose keeps your lips separated, his tongue already splayed against the soft, sensitive flesh between them. You’re slick and sticky and coating the lower half of his face, though you have trouble grasping onto the helms of reality when he’s licking your pussy like this. He shakes his head from side to side, tongue still flat until he’s spreading your thighs farther, so that he can lick your honey from the source.

“Hold it.” He mumbles, struggling to hand the falling material of your night gown to your shaking hands, though you get the memo when it threatens to cover his head completely. You use one hand to hold it, and the other to tug at his hair.

You can barely hear anything another than the sloppy wetness of his mouth working on you, and the sound of your own heartbeat, but you’re sure you’re whining. You can feel the rawness of your throat as you let your head fall back and cry to the ceiling, feeling the need to tear up.

You grip the roots of his locks, rocking against his mouth like you’ve got no other choice. He hums, encouraged by every squeak and moan that comes out of you, by every drip of your cunt and tensing of your muscles.

He doesn’t care that your thighs are squeezing around his head, or that you can barely hold yourself together. You’re using his face like second nature and his cock weeps in his pants. He feels himself throbbing in tandem with the pulsing of your hole around his tongue.

Then he pulls your lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the pink bud that resides underneath your hood, suckling and coating it with enough spit to drip onto the floor.

“Oh god,” you pant “m’gonna cum. Please don’t stop please please please.”

You’re throttled, and not just by the pleasure but by how fast you’re descending into your own madness. You can’t hear much of anything, see anything but the back of your own eyelids - and your boyfriend is using half of his strength to keep your body upwards as you threaten to wilt.

He doesn’t stop, per your request but to your ultimate demise. You feel yourself leaking as your clit throbs from the aftershocks of a powerful - much needed and thoroughly missed, orgasm.

You think you might pass out, but he feels the trembling in your body and despite his need to keep going until you’re completely done for, all but comatose- he stops.

Through your clouded and hazy senses, your hands tug at his face, his head, his neck. Lazily you attempt to pull him up from his knees, and it’s not your strength that does it, it’s his own. But he lets you believe you pulled him to your mouth, before he even has the chance to wipe your essence off. Not that he cares to.

Your tongues collide in a messy exploration, he’s rough and saccharine and sweet all at once. Your paw at him like you’ve never felt him before, like he didn’t just have his mouth on your most private of parts.

“I need you in me.” You slur the words between open mouthed kisses. He’s pressed so flush against you that you can feel his dick throbbing, and you’re not sure if the wetness is your own or his. Perhaps both.

You’re hungry for it. He’s still starving, and your fingers clumsily pull the waistband of his sweats down until they’re pooled at his ankles. You wrap your hand around the thick member, angrily red at the tip, veins bulging from either side. The thatch of curly hair at his base is covered by his shirt but you don’t have the energy to remove it- to do anything other than ogle at the blood rushing through him, the feel of his pulse through his manhood. He throws his head back for a split second, taking a deep breath.

You turn around, facing the sink and resting your cheek against the cool metal of the edge. You offer yourself to him like this, an invitation in the form of a leaking cunt and buckling knees. His hands, rough and wide pull this godforsaken nightgown up and over the swell of your ass, knuckles grazing the back of your thighs in the process.

You want to look at him but you’re far too flustered, ironically. It’s completely idiotic to still be embarrassed at your own need for your own boyfriend - but someone as beautiful as Eddie doesn’t come around very often. Getting to do this feels like retribution.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, out of breath. He crudely spits on his cock, you can hear the slick sounds of his precum mixing with his saliva as he strokes himself a few times, one hand on your left hip while he guides his mauve tip to your slit.

“I’m gonna fuck all that attitude away baby.”

The stretch is jarring and unexpected, but the sounds you both make as he sticks himself passed your gummy entrance isn’t. You grip the counter, and he leans his weight over you so that he can mouth at your shoulders while he pushes himself in to the hilt- kissing your cervix before his cock moved around it.

“Yeah?” He taunts, hair tickling your back and lips smearing kisses against your nape. “You��re so goddamn wet, this is all you needed huh?”

He’s genuine within the ruggedness of his voice. Within seconds he’s pulling himself out and shoving himself back in with something fierce driving him. He’s unforgiving in his pace once he gets into a comfortable stance, kicking his sweats off of his ankles and planting his feet behind you.

It’s a symphony of sticky, wet sounds, and grunts with compositions of skin against skin in your small kitchen. It’s been so long since you’ve felt him, since he’s felt you. He’s not just fucking you from the back, he’s mounting you - panting lewdly in your ear while his hands snake themselves around your shoulders.

You cry out, nothing coherent leaving your mouth. Your poor cunt was still contracting from the orgasm he gave you with his mouth when shoved himself inside of you, and now that little spongey spot is being brutally massaged over and over again with each stroke.

“That’s - s-so - good.” Your words are staccato, followed by petulant whines. You’re thankful for his hit breath on your neck, the groans leaving him, the weight of his body behind you. He’s close while still delivering a delicious punishment - a fucking that’s meant to make you forget about anything that’s happened this past week.

“Awe baby, it feels good hmm? You - fucking hell-“

His balls tighten and he knows he’s gonna cum soon, he’s too caught up in how you’re squeezing around him, throbbing from the inside out with your admiration for him. You try to reach back and touch him, but he holds your arms in front of you, a sort of embrace and restraint all in one.

“need to cum baby, need to show you how much I love you. Need to fill you - oh baby - need to fill you all the way. That’s it - there you go there you go, I know.”

He kisses your cheek where a tear falls down, your knees beginning to tremble again in tandem with his own. He ruts and ruts and ruts, your cream coating his cock, your warmth swallowing him whole.

He pulls out, and you think you might start weeping, till he turns you around by your waist and licks the inside of your parted lips. He hiked your leg up around his lithe waist, bends his knees and maneuvers his hips forward so that he can slide back into you.

Now that he can see your face, and you can see his, you both feel cathartic.

You hang onto his shoulders, clawing at his curls and he holds your face, damp lips centimeters away from your own while your foreheads rest against each other. You look down to watch him disappear inside of you, and you marvel at it. Your juices and the sounds they make, how pretty his dick looks coated in your release and his own pre ejaculate.

“M’so fucking deep,” he’s shaking now, sweat beading down his neck. His bottom lip quivers and you begin to realize how this must feel for him as well. How badly you both needed the other. “it feels so fucking good, so good so good so good.”

He’s babbling and you pull his mouth to yours again, suckling on his tongue. With some foreign strength, you use your voice.

“Please cum, I love you Eddie. I want you to cum for me please please, I can’t take it. Cum for me cum for me cum for me I love you.”

He thinks he might cry, he’s so fucking deep when you wrap your arms around him, when your hips are connected so closely that you can’t tell where one of you begins and the other one ends - when the sweet lullaby that is your voice serenades him, begs him to let go.

“Oh god, oh fuck I’m - fuuuuck.”

He tightens, stuttering inside of you while small gasps of pleasure leave him like hiccups. You inhale the scent of his hair, feel the rise and fall of his breath from between his shoulder blades. You’re both twitching, barely standing. A mess, and certainly a sight to see.

He stays like that for a few moments, just enough for all of his cum to dribble out from the tip and into you. When he pulls out, the sound is audible and crude, and he swears to himself he will clean the mess on your kitchen floor.

You don’t know who kisses who first.

Both of you go for the others neck, cheeks, forehead. Gently, with enough love to fill an entire universe itself. It’s a juxtaposition to the way you just had each other. It’s love. Pure, unadulterated, sickeningly sweet to the melancholy.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he kisses your eyelids, then your nose, out of breath. “and I’m gonna make breakfast in the morning. We are never letting this happen again.”

You scratch his scalp.

“Which part? Cause-“ he rolls his eyes, smiling boyishly. Enough to show his dimples, flash his teeth.

“You know which part, I’ll give you whatever you want. But I’m never going this long without being around you. Not ever.”

He’s devout, sincere in a way that is irrevocable. You don’t argue, don’t wince, don’t make a face. You nod, suckling his bottom lip.

You listen.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson au #joseph quinn x reader #Eddie Munson Drabble #Eddie Munson imagine

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wakatshi · 1 year

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UNTOUCHABLE

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY | &. — fem! reader, you’re angry with simon, teasing, smoking, clitoral stimulation, thigh riding, dry humping | wc 1.3k words | masterlist

simon riley is a stranger — it’s a thought you can’t ignore anymore.

he doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t smile. not enough. now that you think of it, you’ve never heard simon riley laugh. it’s not his thing. it feels impossible, utterly unrealistic. the idea itself is laughable. it’s always a smirk and it’s almost invisible. too sardonic. too sarcastic and not sincere enough.

you ache for a reaction, a crumb of the real him, but he doesn’t give it you. his caustic attitude is so maddening. exasperation grows inside of you, you’re frustrated and somehow feeling closer and closer to an imminent defeat.

simon riley is too much of a stranger. but ghost isn’t. you’ve seen his face before, but it feels like he constantly hides something; himself, away from you. he’s always on guard. his skin, his deep, visible scars, his every pore, his mouth, his nose, you’ve felt them all under the touch of your very own fingers. he didn’t run away, he stayed, but touching ghost like that simply doesn’t do it anymore.

and how can that be enough when simon is not far from being a complete stranger? his humanity itself is buried somewhere deep inside, it’s a secret hidden behind a annoyingly high wall. simon is there, but is he, really?

this evening is unusually silent, the air is crisp and cold, you wonder where soap went, he swore to defeat you in a poker game yesterday. he wouldn’t have, but still, enthusiasm got ahead of you. captain price isn’t here either. in fact, it’s just you and simon.

you find yourself lazying on a timeworn couch next to him, but he’s too busy. he’s thinking, smoking. acting like you’re not there. you wonder what could go through the mind of a man of his caliber.

“want a cig?” with the pack in his hand, simon breaks the silence, he waits for you to make up your mind.

“no, thanks. why don’t you put that away anyways? that’s your third cig.”

“why?”

“fuck off, simon.”

his gaze shifts away from you for quite some time, the cigar rests between his lips and he inhales the burnt tobacco, smoke drifts away and dissipates in the air. the smell persists and you’re used to it, ghost carries the scent of heavy smoking with him. it’s a constant thing.

“why?”

“i said fuck off. if you don’t wanna, just don’t.”

how stupid. it’s not the cigar, nor this situation in particular. maybe you’re too clingy — you worry. he’s not into that lovey-dovey shit. naturally, he’s ghost after all.

“fucking hell, why are you so angry over a cig? tell me.”

“you don’t… touch me. this… this shit we’re doing isn’t enough. you’re not even talking to me.”

“i don’t touch you?”

simon’s beginning to become self aware. he throws the lit cigar on the ground and crushes it with his boot. “come here,” he meant his lap.

as soon as you make yourself comfortable, his muscular arms begin to move, big, gloved hands linger on the fabric of your shirt and fall on your hips. they stay there, firmly, the lieutenant pulls your body towards him, as close as possible. “relax.”

he’s too attractive.

his body is strong, that of a man who’s seen and fought it all, built for survival and warfare. his mental wounds are yet to be unveiled, but you know simon hides them and it’s beyond you. his forearms thick and veiny, his left arm tattooed, his thighs sturdy, big.

but the man known as ghost treats you like you’re a piece of glass threatening to be broken. he doesn’t think you’re weak— how could he? that’s insanity. how could he think you’re fragile and unskilled when you carry out the missions so well. ghost fears he’s the one who might push you away, and he dreads the flaws of his own being.

“gloves off, simon.”

“gloves off...” he repeats. or rather whispers to himself mindlessly as if you’re giving him instructions. he follows them immediately.

“you’re not funny.”

you grind against his thighs, but there’s some sort of hesitation in your act. he looks untouchable. he’s ghost, not simon, with his mask still on and covering most of his face, except for his mouth and eyes — he follows your movements closely, his eyes wander all over you body, the exposed crook of your neck, your shirt, the waist his hands are holding too tightly. but you don’t complain.

you could’ve made it less obvious that you’re trying to get off on his pants at least. it’s experimental, you’ve never done this before and not with simon. you’re testing the waters. your heart beats annoyingly fast, your chest is heavy and breathing gets harder - it’s almost impossible to resist simon when he touches you like this, even if you tried to hide it, your body would betray any attempt to conceal how much be turns you on. from his body to his voice, everything about him arouses you.

he’d fuck you right here and right now. just tell him and he will. he’d unzip his pants, fill your pussy up to the brim with his cock and make you orgasm in every corner of this room. but for now, he won’t. simon gets some sort of pleasure out of watching you make a mess out of yourself.

it takes a huge amount of self-restraint to oppose whatever is happening right now. he’s well aware and he’s more than used to it.

“come on, i know you wanna do it. i thought we got past that stage.”

“what stage, simon?”

“you shying away from me. i’ve been inside your pussy too many fuckin’ times and you’re still doing this.”

“i hate you.”

“i’m sure you do. now focus, love.”

the feeling of elation comes almost instantly with the friction. you grind your clothed pussy against his pants like you’ve never felt the touch of a man before and you don’t know how to behave. or what to do with yourself. it’s truly embarrassing, a mix between arousal and curiosity.

you’re soaking wet, so, so impatient and you’re filled with a primal urge — to use his body to reach climax.

“say my name, love. louder, don’t be shy.”

“simon!”

it doesn’t take him too long to find his way to your jeans. he unbuckles them and slides his index and middle finger inside, “so wet.”

you feel heavy, your body grows tired and your head falls on his shoulder as your arms wrap around his neck. he pulls you quickly, a prompt don’t escapes his mouth.

“i can’t do this! i’m getting tired.”

“you can. look at me.”

that’s such an easy thing to say coming from a man who’s been sitting and doing nothing but watching you humping his thigh. ghost doesn’t give you a break. he’s merciless, he rubs your clit just fast enough to get a sudden moan out of you. it’s like his fingers were made to play with you pussy and not for what he does out there. they’ve been resting too much under those gloves — they’re warm, but you’re burning.

“feels good? you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you moan my name. say it again.”

“simon…”

“fuck, i could cum in my pants only by looking at you. such a brave girl.” there’s a sarcastic note in his voice, but you ignore it.

simon looks at you the entire time. his gaze pierces through every layer, it’s worse when he wears the mask. your body temperature goes up, you’re close, too close, it’s an explosion, a firework show you’re obsessively craving like nothing else. and it’s here, finally, you’re thankful he stopped you from dry humping his thigh. warm juices drip on his fingers and inside your panties when you orgasm.

“you said i don’t touch you.”

“i wasn’t talking about sex.”

“i know.”

likes, reblogs & feedback are very appreciated! 🤍

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ &. — TAGGING : @touyyes @suget @itachislut @boyfrwenz @xiiaoww @stoner-with-a-boner @pinheadswhore @cherryppick @qrtmin @cosmicfairygirl @introloves @acc-cal

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ &. — NOTE : this i was supposed to be shorter, but i got sooo distracted </3 i plan to write a second part… maybe !!

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fic #cod x reader #cod

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ceijoh · 2 years

Photo

title: holy ground

summary: in which miya atsumu is completely in love with you and you find that very hard to believe.

word count: 3.2k+

warnings/contents: angst, fluff, humour

masterlist

Miya Atsumu has always been a stubborn man. He was stubborn in his opinions, and feelings, and contrary to the popular belief that he flies through people romantically -that was not the case.

He’s only ever had two major loves in his life, the first being the girl in the cereal commercial when he was a kid. Atsumu was dead set on marrying her and living on a dairy farm, and plus free cereal for life. It wasn’t until he found out that she wasn’t real -courtesy of Osamu- that he refused to believe in love.

He’s had crushes and flings, sure, especially in high school, the majority of people do. However, he was too busy trying to win Nationals and be the best setter in Japan that romantic relationships often took the third or fourth spot in his priority list.

Then he met you. It was raining, Atsumu remembers meeting you. You coming in, rushing into the training centre, while you handed off a bento box to his personal trainer. Watching from the ground he was sitting on, watching as you turned, almost slipping on the floor because of your wet shoes, and Atsumu rushing over to help you before anyone could.

Looking down at your wide eyes, your mouth parted in shock and the sheepish smile that soon took over, until he said, “Oi, watch where yer goin’, could have damaged the floor wit’ that face.”

At the scowl on your face, and a clever comeback on your lips, he decided right then and there that you were the only person that was going to be in his heart. You were the only person that he wanted to love, and he wanted to prove it to you.

What Atsumu didn’t know was that loving you was quite a challenge. He was expecting you to put up a little fight, but ultimately after a couple of weeks, you would fall into his arms and you would start your happy ever after. Because that’s how the greatest love stories go, right?

It wasn’t easy for Atsumu, it turns out you were more closed off to the idea of love than he thought. Having been burnt from past lovers, and not really having your parents as good relationship models obscured what your idea of love was.

You told him that you weren’t ready for a relationship, not after your last ex. The pain and games he put you through wasn’t worth the bits and pieces of affection that he gave you. You needed to take time to work on yourself, to find out who you really were before starting a relationship.

Plus, you weren’t over your ex, as much of an asshole as he was, he still had a place in your heart, and while Atsumu was starting to slowly creep in, you refused to start something with him while your heart wasn’t fully committed to one person. As much as you have started to fall for Atsumu, you just couldn’t do that to him.

Atsumu knew all of this. He knew he had his shortcomings. He knew that he was impatient when it came to things, but with you? He would wait a million years if he had to.

He remembers the conversation he had with you when he first declared that he loved you, and you said that he was being stupid. Which he probably was, because it was months into being friends with you.

“I’m in love with you,” Atsumu blurted out as you sat down next to him. You slowly passed the bag of takoyaki to him.

“Well, I know that I did you a favour by bringing the best takoyaki Osaka can offer but I didn’t realise it will bring such a strong reaction,” you jested as you willed your heartbeat to slow down.

“I’m being serious,” you knew that he was. From the moment he finished his sentence, you would have placed all your money that this moment was the most serious moment in Atsumu’s life.

“‘Tsum, we’ve talked about this,” you turned to face the ground, unable to look at the distraught or angry look on his face. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“I never said that I wanted us to be in a relationship,” Atsumu smiled at you fondly, not that you could see it. Placing the bag by his side, Atsumu slowly reached out for your hand that was now fiddling with the bottom of your top. “I just wanted ya to know,” he shrugged, as if the atomic bomb he just dropped was a mere raindrop. “I don’t mind waiting, if it’s for you.”

“What happens if I ask you to wait forever?”

“I’m a patient man.”

“You’re one of the most impatient people I know.”

“I can learn.”

“I think, I think that I may want to start a relationship with him,” at the knowing glance of Tsukishima, you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you’ve finally come to the conclusion that everyone has,” at the bluntness of his tone, you roughly shoved him. Looking at his watch, “It only took you long enough.”

At the passing comment, you frowned. “Do you think I took too long?”

Hearing the sincerity in your tone, Tsukishima’s smirk dropped a little, and briefly looked at Kuroo who just shrugged at him telling him silently ‘you fix it’.

Tsukishima scoffed and rolled his eyes, “That man is wholly in love with you that it’s so fucking disgusting, anyone and everyone can see it. You could be fifty and he would still love you the same amount, possibly more.”

Letting yourself through the door, you called out Atsumu’s name. Hyping yourself up mentally, you felt pretty good. You felt confident, and this was something that you’ve wanted to do for a long time. You looked at your hands which were slightly shaking and you closed them tightly, swallowing the heartbeat in your mouth.

Walking over to his couch, you briefly looked at the beautiful view that Atsumu’s apartment overlooked. It was absolutely breathtaking. Calling his name out again, you watched as he popped out from his bedroom, a bright smile on his face.

Feeling your heart relax at the sight of him, you smiled largely. Before you could say anything, you heard another pair of footsteps, turning around to face the person, you couldn’t help but feel your heart drop to your stomach.

You’ve seen this before, you’ve felt this emotion before. Before, you would have cried and screamed and stormed out of his flat before he or she could say anything. But now? You felt frozen, numb and detached. It felt like you were watching the scene unfold in front of your eyes but you were not yourself.

“Oh Atsumu-san, thank you for lending me your shirt,” a woman you’ve never seen before walks out of Atsumu’s kitchen, looking at the clothing that was now on her body.

Finally noticing that Atsumu wasn’t wearing a shirt either, your brain connected the clues. Eyes roaming over his body, you couldn’t detect any love marks, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have them.

Turning to you, Atsumu paled. No, fuck no. This was not happening. Pinching himself, he realised that this was in fact happening. “(Y/N), it’s not what you think.”

“OH!” You yelped out, forcing yourself to calm down by clenching your first, you internally berated yourself. This was not the time to cry. “Oh, I’m so, sorry,” you rushed out your apologies, bowing profusely, already mentally and emotionally checking out of the place. You both gave them a tight lipped smile, “I’m just leaving, I’ll leave you two.”

Rushing out the door, desperately trying to wipe away the tears before any of them saw, you ran to the elevator. Punching the key to make it go faster, you could hear Atsumu’s footsteps rushing out to catch up to you.

Praying to every deity you could think of, you were finally blessed when you heard the familiar ding. Pushing the lobby, and forcing the doors to close, you kept your eyes down as you saw Atsumu rounding the corner before the door closed.

Gasping and leaning on the wall, you let out a painful sob. You knew this was going to happen, eventually this was going to happen. It always did, so why did this kill you more than anything? If this was love, you didn’t want it.

“(Y/L/N)-san,” the familiar voice of the waiter greeted. Looking at the clock and realising that it’s only been a couple of hours since he last saw you, “You’re back.”

Shrugging and smiling at him, he led you to your favourite booth. Sitting down and telling him your order, with a few extra sides, you collapsed forward. Realising that this was the booth that you and Atsumu always sit in brought a new fresh set of tears. Your heart clenching, you tried to drink some water to try anything to distract you.

You sat there in silence, not even bothering to look at your phone. You knew that Atsumu was calling you and texting you by the frequent vibrations. Maybe tomorrow when you’ve had a somewhat decent night's rest and food will make your head feel more balanced.

“No Miya-san, today?” The waiter asked as he placed down the first couple of dishes.

Looking up at him, you smiled politely, “He was preoccupied doing other things.”

“I thought we made a promise that we’d never go here by ourselves?”

Clenching your jaw, you refused to look at the man standing by the booth. And you promised to wait, jerk.

You watched as Atsumu leaned back into the booth, grabbing his own chopsticks and picking up the dumpling you were about to eat.

“Miya Atsumu,” you warned, giving him a glare. All he did was grin back at you and plop the dumpling in his mouth. Unaware that it was a soup dumpling, which earned you a front row seat to the MSBY star setter burning his mouth and panicking as the hot soup went all over his clothes.

Glaring half-heartedly at your laughter, you handed him some napkins. “Serves you right for trying to eat my food.”

“But ya love me,” gone was your smile and easiness.

Once cooled down, Atsumu began to eat bits and pieces of your food. “Ya know, yer one of the smartest people I know,” he looked up at you after eating a piece of beef. “So why are yer so dumb right now?”

Offended you scowled at him, “What the actual fuck, ‘Tsum?”

Leaning back into his seat, playing with the placemat, “Why do ye think that I’d sleep with someone else when I told you that I love you?”

Glancing away from his stare, you looked at the restaurant around you. It was dead quiet, and you could hear the quiet rain from outside. Shrugging, you took a sip of your drink. “I mean, it’s been so long I thought that maybe you would have been done waiting. I wouldn’t fault you for sleeping or wanting to sleep with someone else.”

It hurt to say those words to Atsumu because you hoped that he didn’t. While it was selfish of you to indirectly ask him to wait, you just wanted someone to wait for you, like all you've been doing all your life.

Atsumu rolled his eyes and leaned forward, flicking your hand once -which earned another scowl, he looked at you. A part of you wanted to look away but something inside of you told you that you needed to look at him.

“I told yer, and I’ll gladly tell you again, that I’ll wait for you,” he stated simply like you just asked him the weather.

“But why?”

Shrugging, “Because I love you. Yer it for me, no one else. If I have to wait another year, or ten years, I’ll do so.”

“But why?”

“Do ya want a list?” he arched his brow and when you didn’t respond, he shrugged, and paid complete attention to you. “First, you make me laugh. With yer stupid dad jokes that ya tell all the time, the weird tiktoks that you send me at 2 in the morning, or yer goofy lil’ habits,” struggling to keep eye contact with him, you looked down on the table. “Yer never fail to make me smile, especially on the rough days after losin’ a match, yer always there to bring a smile to ma face.”

Tapping twice on the table, you watched as his fingers moved over to yours and started tapping on it, one, two, three, pause, one, two, three, pause.

“Second, you support me. Ya’ve always had ma back even when I was the shittiest person to be around, do ya remember how many times I’ve snapped at ya when I was tryin’ out for a spot on the National team? After every snap, after every argument, or when I’ve left ya on read -not on purpose, by the way, you’ve always been there waitin’ for me.

“Yer always the first person that I tell when I accomplish somethin’, (Y/N), because I know that when you say yer proud of me, I know ye mean it, yer not just sayin’ it.” Now leaning forward, he fully grasped your hand, he silently knocked your foot with his, a subtle gesture to make you look at him.

“But yer also the first person I tell when I fail somethin’. I never liked talkin’ bout me failin’ anythin’, because,” shrugging Atsumu dropped his sentence. “The point is, I know yer still gonna see me as ‘Tsum because it doesn’t matter in yer eyes if I win or lose a match, because ye love me for me.”

Putting up three fingers, “Third, your opinion -apart from Ma’s and ‘Samu’s but they don’t count- is really the only one I care ‘bout. Every time I do somethin’, I think ‘what would (Y/N) think of this?”

“Fourth, ya make me feel complete. It’s like this thing inside of me, ya know? That I didn’t realise I wanted or needed until I met ya. Everytime I’m around ya it makes me happier, now don’t get me wrong, yer one of the most frustrating people I know but that makes me want to be around more.”

Taking a deep breath, he finally held up all his fingers, and smiled softly at you. “Fifth, when I picture myself in the future, retired and just livin’ the life with Samu, ‘Kaashi and their kids, the person I see myself with, is you. Yer the only person I’ve ever imagined that with, I’ve tried and imagined it with other people to see, but it felt wrong, it felt like I was trying to fit ya know those wooden shape things into the wrong hole. I have plenty more, if ya want but those are the deeper ones that I know, if ya want the smaller stuff, I can do that too,” Atsumu spoke to you as if he just hadn’t redefined what being in love meant.

You knew that deep in your heart, and thanks to both of your friends that Atsumu was in love with you. But this? This was everything and more. This was the movies you watched, the songs that you listened to, the stories you heard, the things your heart has longed for and more. Atsumu was more.

Paying attention to Atsumu, you watched as he began pulling out his phone, “I made a list, do ya want to see?” He quickly tapped on his phone and his notes appeared, your eyes quickly scanned the list, a long list if the sidebar had anything to say, as Atsumu started listing off the smaller things, “Ye make those weird noises when you don’t think anyone is looking, ya talk to yourself a lot, ya cry at all of those animal videos.”

Locking his phone before you barely got to the halfway point, Atsumu placed his phone on the table and took a deep breath, “But the reality of it is, I don’t care how long it takes for you to say ‘okay ‘Tsum, I’m ready’ because I’m always going to be here waitin’ for ya, maybe we’ll be type of couple where it takes a long time for us to get together, and yeah, there’ll be hiccups,” a small serene smile appeared on Atsumu’s face. He looked at you, like the many times he has before. It was the same fond look, the kind where it makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “But then, it’ll be perfect. You an’ me.”

Plopping the final dumpling in his mouth, he grinned at you while pointing his chopsticks, “Plus, when I sit down our kids’, it’ll be a hell of a story, don’t ya think?”

Not being able to say anything, you picked up the extra set of chopsticks on the table and pushed the dumplings in the middle. Atsumu’s heart lightened as he saw your peace offering. Maybe one day he’ll tell you that this was the hardest moment in his life.

“Come on,” he bent forward and you looked sceptically at him. When you didn’t hop on his back, he rolled his eyes. “We have to walk for like ten minutes to get to yer place, and yer wearing those shoes ya don’t like because it makes your feet hurt,” turning back around, “now hop on.”

It was a Thursday night, yours and Atsumu’s Thursday nights. You were sitting on the kitchen counter as you watched him prepare the dinner he was excited to make. He was talking you through it; Osamu had one of the cooking shows in the background while Atsumu was over, and the dish caught his eye. Watching him right now was something you knew you could do for the rest of your life.

It’s funny really, for you, you thought it would be this giant explosion that hey! You’re in love! Or there would be this grand epiphany. But that never happened. Maybe it was slow at first, a slow burn that when the ember finally sparked into a forest fire you didn’t realise. Or maybe, it was always there. It was there when you first met Atsumu all those years ago, him helping you and then insulting you.

“Hey, ‘Tsum,” you watched him turn around. You thought that your heart would be beating so hard that it would be flying out of your chest, but this was the most calm you’ve ever been around him. Tilting your head, you smiled at him and he knew.

“I just wanted to tell you that I love you,” you spoke softly. There was everything in those words that you just spoke, and from all the times you thought it would be the hardest thing to say, it was somehow the easiest and truest thing you’ve ever spoken.

Grinning, you saw his eyes tear up before coughing to hide it. “Yeah?” Walking over to you slowly, fearing that it was one of the many dreams that he’s had before. Finally reaching you, he hesitantly reached out, hands shaking.

“Yeah,” pulling him into your arms and breathing in the familiar scent you’ve now come to realise was home, you whispered the words that made Atsumu feel whole, “I’m so in love with you Miya Atsumu.”

Miya Atsumu is a stubborn man, and you were thankful for that.

‘...but i don't wanna dance, if i’m not dancing with you.’

let me know what you think! :)

-e

#atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu one shot #atsumu angst #haikyuu imagine #atsumu imagine #miya atsumu x reader angst #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu one shot #haikyuu

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nnon0 · 1 day

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JJH fic recs

been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)

(🫀) -personal faves

all these years @domjaehyun

WC: 34.1k

fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au

Just friends @lonelyharmonies

WC: 22k

Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au

what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?

(🫀) Only @ppangjae

WC: 21.6k

almost!lovers au

You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?

Romeo roulette @wincore

WC:21.1k

soulmate au, office au, fake dating

if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.

he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight

WC: 18.7k

Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers

jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.

(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic

WC: 17k

heartbreakers, smut

A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.

(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites

WC: 17k

school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun

As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.

(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae

WC:13.7k

poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers

As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.

I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs

WC:11.8k

friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut

there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts.

Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan

WC: 10.2k

Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving

synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)

Boyfriend material @mochidoie

WC: 6.2k

fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

Back up Valentine @tyonfs

WC: 2.9k

Spiderman!jaehyun

you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.

SERIES

S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun

WC:66.2k

heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories

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little-miss-vader · 23 days

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Unbreakable Bonds

Pairing: Master!AnakinxPadawan!Reader

Summary: A master is supposed to care deeply for his Padawan… Right?

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: IMPORTANT: Anakin is 26 in this one. You’re 21. Okay? Okay. First. Sorry for disappearing! I’m fine and thank you so much for all the kind words in my inbox they meant the world to me. I just got uninspired for writing and burnt out from work. Second. I genuinely thought this was way longer than it is. Uhhhhh it’s a two parter. Maybe a three. No promises. Can y’all tell this is my fav trope? But i missed u guys 🫶🏼 lazy ending warning i didn’t wanna keep going i wanted to split it in two.

The sounds of the 501st yelling around you was not what you expected to wake up to. The men of the battalion had set up a camp for everybody on the remote planet you’d landed on in the Outer Rim the night before because the walk had been far too long to do in one stretch. You couldn’t even remember what the planet was called. You just knew your Master was assigned to a mission here and that meant you were assigned to it as well.

You shot out of your sleeping bag when you heard blaster shots above head. One flew through your tent, barely even a foot away from you. Your hand reached for your lightsaber on the ground and it flew into your grip as you ran through the flimsy tent door.

The bright suns of the desert planet blinded you for a moment and you adjusted your eyes before whipping your head toward all the commotion.

“They’re flanking left!” You heard Fives yell. You ran over to where you saw Anakin using a rock as cover.

“Master, why didn’t you wake me?” You yelled over the sounds of blaster fire and explosions with wide eyes. He smiled at you, a smile that didn’t aid your panic.

“Well good morning, Princess. Sleep well?” He always had time for jokes, even in an ambush. You groaned and ducked further down when you felt a blaster shot coming directly at you. “If you didn’t already notice. We’ve been ambushed, but I have a plan.” He finished and you stared at him with a blank expression.

“What would that be, Master?” You said wearily, you were preparing yourself to hear what could be considered by most to be an insane string of words in response to your question. To you though, it would be a normal Anakin thing to say. The 501st was doing a fantastic job at keeping them at bay for the short duration of your conversation but instead of responding, Anakin simply smiled before running right at the blaster shots, blocking them as if the ambush meant nothing to him.

The five year difference in your ages didn’t seem to matter. You tended to act and feel like the older one most days. It was a shame when your previous Master died, you cried in your room for days when the news arrived and you still flinched when you heard his name, it gave the council pretty much no choice but to put you under Anakin’s charge until you finished your training and completed your trials.

Regardless of who was more mature, you followed him blindly. The knowledge that you could trust him not to get you killed at the very minimum was reason enough to stay right on his heel. He was running toward a tank that was firing explosives at your camp. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself when he climbed up on top of it, dodging whatever came his way in the process. You followed him, doing the best you could with what you had been taught.

You stood with him on top of the tank and he used his lightsaber to cut the locked door open. It dropped to the floor of the small space inside the tank, crushing a battle droid in the process. Anakin jumped down to the bottom and you opted for climbing down the ladder, following him closely. He took the second battle droids head off with one swing of his lightsaber and took the piloting chair when the droid fell to the ground. You stood watch behind him, in case anybody came in behind the two of you.

With an aggressive turn to the handles that controlled the top half of the machine, Anakin turned the tanks artillery around causing your body to jostle around. You caught your footing and within moments, most of the battle droids around you became victim to the explosives flying out of the tank.

You heard something above head and your eyes caught sight of a droid holding a blaster toward you. You expected the thing to climb down before it blasted but when it shot at you from its vantage point you stumbled back with a stagger. Using a relatively easy Force ability, you pushed it off the tank and it landed on the ground. The tank moved as if it had gone over a bump and you safely assumed that you had done your job at getting rid of the droid.

“What was that?” He called over his shoulder and you looked down at your arm where your previously dry robe now had a small, blood-soaked patch.

“Nothing. I took care of it.” You replied with no hesitation. You heard the commotion eventually come to an end and Anakin let the 501st finish off the few remaining droids before getting up out of his seat.

“Thanks for trusting me, Y/N.” He said as he walked by you in the dimly lit space. You placed your lightsaber on your hip and followed him as he climbed up and out of the tank. You winced every time you pulled yourself up the ladder with your injured arm but you still got to the top fairly quickly. Anakin hopped down to the ground and held his hand out to help you. His eyes trailed to your stained robe as you reached your own hand to meet his.

Anakin pulled you down with both haste and caution. His eyebrows furrowed as he examined your wound as best as he could and you stared at him with an expression that screamed silent apologies.

“I’m sorry. I misread the situation and it shot me-“ You started and he didn’t let you finish.

“Next time I check in on you. Tell me the truth.” He spoke sternly as he guided you back to what was left of the camp. You closed your eyes for a moment, beating yourself up for not speaking up.

“I didn’t want to distract you.” You spoke softly and he scoffed.

“You know what’s worse than distracting me? Letting me turn around to see you bled out on the ground.” He stopped walking and his hand still held a firm grip on your uninjured bicep. Your eyes watched your shoes, feeling Anakin’s gaze bore into you.

“Never lie to me again. Mistakes happen, don’t let them fester.” Anakin’s voice was softer now. He let go of your arm and he continued walking before you could apologize again.

Your head hung low as you approached the men who fought valiantly for your Master; not because you were embarrassed, but because you couldn’t keep your head up. You felt your body begin to lose stability and you looked at your arm again, the patch had become almost the entire lower half of your arm and you were beginning to feel the pain. The adrenaline wouldn’t bring you much further and you knew it.

You opened your mouth to speak but you began to see small black dots in your vision. Your head spun slowly and your eyes fell shut. You had very little control over where you dropped, but you felt the impact right before you blacked out and you knew it was going to leave a bruise or two.

You woke up to see the interior of Anakin’s star fighter. You blinked slowly, wincing in pain. You looked down at your arm, it was dressed professionally and your sleeve had been cut off, likely to access the wound without undressing you.

“Keep still. You’re still healing.” A voice rang through the room and you turned your head to find the source. You winced when the movement caused your wound to burn. You heard Anakin sigh and stand up. He stood over you, eyebrows knitted in concern with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What part of ‘tell me if you’re not okay’ do you not understand?” He said sternly. You watched his eyes analyze your dressings from afar and you let out a sigh of your own, your voice sounded cracked and dry.

“I’m sorry-“ You started. Anakin held a hand up, signalling for you to stop speaking. His head angled itself away from you and he took a deep breath with his eyes shut. The way he always did when he had to calm down.

“I care about you.” He said after a moment of silence as he let his hand drop to his side, his voice sounded softer again. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died under my charge. Do you understand?” He gazed at you, looking for a sign that you did in fact, understand. You nodded.

“Good.” He pulled his chair over by the small cot you were laying on and sat down. “How’s it feeling?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

You looked at the wound with a shrug. “Could have been worse.” You seethed causing him to deepen the lines in his face, resting his hand on your arm.

“Just… Rest. That’s all you can do until we get to Coruscant.” He looked at you for a moment before getting up, presumably to fly the ship. You leaned back against the pillow and shut your eyes, letting sleep take over you. All you heard before sleep took over your body were the four words he let slip earlier. They echoed in your head as you lulled away.

“I care about you.”

You didn’t dream. At least you thought you didn’t. It was a shock to you when in your slumber, your mind filled with images of your own master smiling, laughing, and holding you. Soft words were whispered behind the backs of the council. His hand reaching for yours to squeeze it because he knew you were nervous. Kisses placed on foreheads and lingering touches were halted when you heard the 501st clanging around beyond your minds eye. In the cockpit on Anakin’s ship. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately closed them again, pretending to stay asleep and trying to grasp what the hell your brain was doing.

By the time the ship arrived on Coruscant, you’d rested and the bacta-bag wrapped around your arm seemed to have worked wonders on you. You opened your eyes to Anakin shaking you softly and the sound of his voice made a small part of you fill with an unexpected warmth.

“I’ll deal with the Council by myself, let me get you to your apartment first.” He said when you finally sat up. He rested a gentle hand on the back of your waist and you felt tingles over your entire back from the contact. The feeling shocked you, causing you to clear your throat to suppress a gasp. Anakin guided you off the bed and helped you off the bridge and onto the landing pad of your balcony.

“Are they angry?” You asked with a look toward him. He smiled, the kind of smile he held on his face when he had a joke in mind.

“They’re not allowed to feel angry remember?” He muttered humorously and you cracked a half smile. “Don’t worry about them.” He finished as he sat you down on your couch.

“Master, I really am sorry.” You spoke as he mindlessly placed the throw blanket from the back of the couch over your legs. Anakin shook his head.

“Really, Y/N. I’m just glad you’re alive.” He said, settling down on the couch beside your legs. His forearms rested over his knees and he clasped his hands between them. You looked at him for longer than you thought appropriate. He looked tired and it took everything in you not to reach out and place your hand on his cheek.

He cared about you. He said it himself. Surely it was the same kind of care every Master had for their Padawan.

But it didn’t feel that way when he looked at you now.

You grappled with your thoughts, convincing yourself you were imagining things, that it was delusion. You almost didn’t hear him speak when he did.

“I almost lost you today.” Anakin said sternly. “I don’t have the time between all my meetings for a funeral, believe me.” He chuckled humourlessly.

“But you didn’t.” You shrugged and played with the frayed edge of the blanket over your legs. He shot you a look that made you smile and he followed with a chuckle. His hair pushed further into his face as he shook his down turned head.

A silence crept its way between the two of you and you watched his every move. You couldn’t explain the feeling that arose every time he smiled at you. It was like a switch had flipped and you desperately tried to figure out a way to flip it back while you watched him place his hands on his knees to push himself to his feet with a sigh. You gnawed at the skin inside your cheek as you watched him.

When he finally looked at you again, your mouth opened to say something, but it shut just as fast. You couldn’t trust your own words right now. Not with the way you were feeling. His lips thinned as he glanced at your arm again and he cleared his throat.

“Rest. I’m leaving you with C3-PO. He’ll help you get back on your feet so we can get back to our job.” He said, not bothering to look at you. You tried to ignore the pang of disappointment you felt at that. You gave him a nod as he retreated to his ship, leaving you with nothing more than a small nod in return.

You worked your jaw as he ascended and sped off. With a swift movement you pushed the blanket off your legs and stood. You felt fine, sure maybe a little bit weak from the blood loss but him calling in a babysitter for you felt unnecessary. You channeled your confusing emotions into annoyance at his childlike treatment of you. Because that seemed healthy.

As you paced your living room you swung your arm around gently to test how mobile you were. It seemed alright, nothing to pause missions or call reinforcements in for. You planned to give him a mouthful when he came back, you practiced your speech out loud as you walked around your apartment.

~•~•~•~

Anakin left yet another long winded meeting with a sigh, closing the door behind him as he left the council chambers. The meetings were a lot more tedious when he didn’t have Y/N with him. She tended to soften the blows, her charm and kindness carried them through plenty of scoldings and lectures from the council. He ran a hand through his hair as he stalked the busy hallways of the Temple.

All he could think of was how dumb he’d been. How blind he was to her struggle. If he’d just taken one second longer to check on her, she wouldn’t have that nasty bruise on the side of her face from the fall. Maybe if he’d kept a better eye on her she wouldn’t have gotten hit with the blaster at all.

Not only did he have to deal with the guilt of letting her get hurt, it was only a matter of time before he finally faced the reality of his feelings toward her. He knew it was coming, he couldn’t hold it back much longer. It already pained him immensely to hide it before she got hurt. Now, the very real fact was, he could misstep once and lose her forever. That dwelled on him and he wouldn’t let anymore time go on without telling her he cared for her in a way a Master shouldn’t care for their Padawan.

He sighed again, turning a corner and making for his speeder that was parked in the corner of the hangar. He’d give her a choice, of course. He’d tell her it was fine if she wanted to ask the council to place her with somebody else. He’d even go as far as push for her trials to be done quicker if it meant she could leave his charge if this all made her uncomfortable. He had every aspect planned but he needed to do it. If not now it would eat him alive forever, possibly until it was too late. He shook the thought from his head as he sped back to her house.

He arrived, later than he wanted, but with flowers and her favourite fruit. It showed he paid attention, at least in his mind. As if any of that would matter if she rejected him.

None of this was right, nor okay. He knew this all too well. He knew exactly what he was doing here and he’d weighed out all the pros and all the cons. Pros, he might have her. Cons, the Code. The damned Code.

He ruffled his hair nervously before taking one final deep breath and exiting his speeder. He caught sight of her pacing around and his eyebrows furrowed. 3PO intersected his path.

“Master Anakin, I fear Miss Y/N has lost it.” He said nervously. Anakin quirked a brow, smirking at the girl pacing her apartment and mouthing things.

“I’ll be the judge of that, thanks 3PO. Stay here.” He muttered as he pushed past the droids and left them on the balcony.

With a swift hand motion, Anakin opened her balcony door and placed her gifts on the table next to him. It wasn’t long before Y/N turned to face him during her paces.

~•~•~•~

“You. What have I done to lead you to believe that I would need not one, but two damned babysitters when I’m realistically only mildly hurt- What’s that?” You stopped in your tracks as you pointed to the flowers on the table. Your eyes landed back on Anakin where he leaned his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed.

He gave you a smile and you couldn’t seem to remember where you were in your speech. In fact, you couldn’t remember the speech at all.

“A gift. For you. I guess it’s more of an apology now though, isn’t it? Since you’re upset at me.” He shrugged, looking down at the bouquet and back at you.

“I’m not upset.” You shrugged, crossing your own arms as you took a few steps toward him. Your eyes fixated on him, you didn’t even care about the gift.

“Is that so? I could have sworn..” He trailed and you shook your head.

“Not upset. Glad you’re here.” You muttered and he chuckled as you approached him to snatch up the flowers and fruit to place them their respective places in a home.

“Right.” He nodded, that crooked smile never leaving his face. You didn’t even have to look at him to know what he looked like right now. You muttered something in agreement as you filled a vase with water and began cutting the stems. After a few moments of letting you arrange the flowers, Anakin rounded the counter to stand beside you and cleared his throat. Your breath caught as you looked up at him.

“You feel it too don’t you?” He asked quietly, leaning against the edge of your counter as your hands worked away at the flowers. His words gave you pause, and you placed the flowers neatly in the vase before sliding it to the middle of the counter.

“Feel what?” You questioned, barely looking away from your finishing touches on the arranged bouquet before you grabbed a cutting board for the fruit. His hand rested over yours where you held the board, causing you to look at him again. You studied his features and somehow you knew. You knew exactly what he was talking about, what he was eluding to. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes scan your face, looking at every inch of you to gauge your emotions.

“Don’t make me say it, Y/N. Just tell me if you want it as badly as I do..” His voice was barely above a whisper. Your eyes fell shut for a moment and you took a breath, trying to steady your thoughts. To see reason.

“Say it.” You replied without thinking.

Anakin sighed. “I care about you far more than what would be considered normal… Or.. Correct. In the eyes of the Jedi.” He said, his mouth formed a thin line as he gauged your response.

You stared at him, long and hard. You couldn’t help but feel like this was supposed to happen, that it was always going to happen, that nothing could have stopped it.

“I care about you too, Anakin. But-“

“Show me.” He breathed.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Show you what?” You asked, already knowing the answer. It was always like this. You were always one step ahead of each other. Which made this conversation feel all the more tedious.

“Show me how much you care. No buts. Use your feelings.” He said, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your breath shuddered again as you placed your hands on the counter next to him and pushed yourself up toward him. Your eyes watched his flutter shut and you followed suit before placing your lips against his.

You melted into him when his hands circled your waist, bringing you directly in front of himself and a small sigh left your lips between kisses. It felt perfect. It felt right. Fated, even. His warm hands sent shivers through you and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer.

When you finally broke the kiss, he almost chased you before retreating and placing his forehead against yours. His heavy breaths matched your own and your eyes finally opened to see blue hues looking back at you.

“Well. Shit.” You whispered and he chuckled. “What now?” You asked.

“I don’t know.” He said quietly. “I know I’m screwed if you change your mind though.” He finished with a cocky smile.

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notti-stellate · 1 year

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Good Morning

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: A somewhat perfect morning with JJ.

Word count: 0.6k

Proofread: Kinda

Warnings: Smoke, mention of drinking, PDA, major fluff

You sighed softly as you woke up, feeling an odd weight in your chest. Looking down you saw your boyfriend’s fluffy blonde hair as he laid sprawled over you. He reminded you of a blanket, the thought making you laugh quietly. Feeling your chest move, JJ slowly opened one eye, tightening his arms around your torso.

“Morning princess,” he mumbled, a small smile adorning his lips.

“Hi J” you whispered, running your fingers along his bare back, scratching softly. His hum of appreciation made you wish you could stay in this moment forever, frozen in time with the person you love most.

JJ’s phone ringing broke you out of your thoughts. He sighed, sliding his finger over the screen and placing the phone on his ear.

“What?” He grumbled to who you assumed was Pope or Mr.Heyward asking where he was. Realizing your moment was over, you slid out of his arms, much to his dismay. Throwing on JJ’s old shirt you walked out of your room, heading towards the kitchen. You could hear JJ sigh and follow you out of your room, padding down the hallway.

After JJ hung up, he came over to where you were standing, wrapping his arms around your hips and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“What time do you need to go in?” You asked, pouring waffle mix into the iron.

“An hour ago,” JJ chuckled, swaying softly in place. You just shook your head laughing, that boy was alway late.

Turning around in his arms, you pressed your lips together softly, only pulling away when you heard the waffle iron beep. Spinning you to face him again, JJ kissed you with much more passion than before, your lips moving in sync as though they were puzzle pieces, meant to fit together. You were so deeply focused on him that you didn’t hear the waffles beep.

Smelling smoke you pulled away, your eyes widening when you realized what had happened. You flung around, grabbing the burnt waffle and tossing it out the front door. JJ loved the fact that you could get so lost in each other, even if it didn’t always have the best outcome. Laughing, you turned back to face him, seeing him laughing as well.

Placing the finished pancakes on two plates, one for you and the other for JJ, you set them on the table. Turning around when you heard a beer can opening, you shook your head at him nodding your head towards the full coffee pot and sitting down.

“Mr.Heyward’s gonna freak if he finds out you were drinking before work.” You muttered, taking a sip of coffee. Sitting across from you, JJ smiled taking a bite of his breakfast. These mornings were your favorite parts of the day, having a little bit of peace before you both had to leave for work or school. To be completely honest, you were still in disbelief at times that JJ was actually yours, not just some small crush you had like before. No matter how long you were together you were still convinced that one day you would wake up and all of your perfect days with JJ would be a distant fantasy. Not that he would ever admit it but he had the same thoughts.

After breakfast you smiled as JJ kissed you goodbye muttering a soft “I love you” before walking out the door. Even though you had just seen him you were already missing the warm feeling of his arms around you, it was obvious you were, without a doubt, completely infatuated with the young Maybank

#jj maybank x fem!reader #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank

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alrightieaphroditie · 10 months

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deeper | j.m series masterlist! | next chapter!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ4.1k an *:·ﾟthis is quite literally two times as long as the first part... oops? lmao i really enjoyed writing this so i hope that everyone enjoys reading it! i have two more parts planned after this, maybe some little drabbles in between or something too? but the series WILL get smuttier as it progresses so i promise you that :) this isn't edited much so if you catch something i didn't... please help ya girl out. hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs are hella welcome

synopsis *:·ﾟthe night has finally arrived: joel and ellie are visiting for dinner. afterwards, you learn more about just who joel miller really is.

to say you were nervous about having joel and ellie over was a complete and total understatement.

sure, you've had ellie over at your house before. she practically visits almost every day, sometimes staying for ten minutes, sometimes a few hours. it wasn't really her you were worried about, though, if you were being truthful. it was joel coming over that made you anxious. your fears were confirmed when you talked to him last night: you had a small, itsy-bitsy crush on the older man.

it's not that there was anything wrong with that, either. but you were a child when the outbreak happened, and then you lived most of your life secluded from others. you simply haven't ever had the chance to crush on someone. not that there was ever really anyone worthy of crushing on until now, but that's beside the point. maybe this wasn't even a crush. maybe you just...liked joel? like as a friend?

no. it was a positively, absolutely a crush.

it was this revelation that had you cleaning your house for most of the day. it wasn't even dirty to begin with. you simply just couldn't sit around, waiting for the moment that ellie and joel appeared on your doorstep. so, you dusted as much as you could, swept up the main areas of your house, and straightened up the small collection of clutter that you had accumulated within the months of being there.

as the afternoon started to dip into the early evening, you began to prepare the food. you weren't the best cook, truthfully, so you decided to stick with what you did know. which is why you were going to be serving breakfast for dinner. you felt a little silly, but you figured this was better than serving burnt meat or something. besides, ellie had mentioned to you the other day that she had never tried pancakes before, and you had just so happened to trade a few of your blankets for a batch of mix that one of your neighbors had made.

you had just finished plating the last of the bacon you had cooked when you heard heavy footsteps on your porch, accompanied by a sharp, quick knock on the door. wiping your hands on your dishrag, you took a deep breath before making your way to the front entry way. despite your nerves, the smile on your face was genuine, as was the cheer in your voice as you greeted your two guests with a "hi!"

ellie grinned up at you, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and wearing an oversized flannel that you wondered if it belonged to joel. she gave you a small hug before tilting her head back, sniffing the air. "oh man, it smells amazing in here. what is that?" she asked, leaving the entry way, and rushing into the kitchen without a response. you laughed after her before turning to face joel.

he stood right in front of you, almost awkwardly. he was holding a giant sack in one hand, and your head tilted in question. "oh, uh," he cleared his throat, motioning to the sack. "ellie mentioned you had a fireplace but hated gathering the wood, so i uh, i brought you some. as a thank you."

"that's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, joel. thank you!" did his cheeks flush? certainly not. right? "you can leave it on the porch if you want. i can carry it in later." he nodded in agreement, setting the bag on the ground as you stepped to the side to let him in.

“i hope you’re alright with breakfast for dinner,” you started, shutting the door behind joel, and leading him to your kitchen. “i found some pancake mix and wanted to surprise ellie.” your back was to him, but you could hear the stutter in his footsteps. turning back around, you saw him standing still, his eyes cinched at the corners. “is that okay, joel?”

hearing his name must have snapped him out of his trance, as his dark eyes blinked, and his head shook slightly. “yeah, ‘s fine.” his voice was rough, like he forced the words out of his throat. his hand clenched into a fist, the broken face of his watch catching a ray of light. then his hand relaxed, and he started to close the gap between the two of you.

“are you sure? because i can try to whip something else up if you- “

“said it was fine, hon. i mean it.” his hand brushed against yours briefly as he passed, making his way into the kitchen with ellie. one step forward, two steps back, you thought sadly as you took a breath before walking into the kitchen.

"are these what i think they are?" the excitement in ellie's voice was notable, which put a smile on your face. ellie was curiously lifting the edge of one pancake on the platter until joel walked to her side, smacking her hand softly to make her let go, murmuring something about having manners that you could just barely hear.

you handed ellie the platter and then turned her around, guiding her to your small dining table by her shoulders. "they are indeed, ellie bellie. i don't have any syrup, though, which is technically what you're supposed to put on top of them. i do have a few different types of jelly we could use, which is still just as good."

ellie set the platter of food on the table, and the two of you went back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, carrying plates of scrambled eggs, sausage patties and bacon, some toast, and a small collection of fruit that had started to grow again with the changing season.

joel watched the two of you as he leaned against the counter, seemingly taking in the domesticity of it all. you bumped your hip against his on your way back in, motioning for him to follow you to the fridge. "here, old man. think you can carry these jars to the table, or do you need some help?" you teased, handing him a few different jars of jelly.

he shook his head at you. "i see the kid's shitty sense of humor is rubbin' off on ya," he said, but he let you fill his hands with the goods.

"hey! i heard that, jerk." ellie shouted from the dining room, causing the two of you to chuckle. you grabbed the pitcher of orange juice you had made earlier, as well as one full of water, and carried those to the table behind joel.

you both organized your goods on the table before taking a seat at the table. you and joel were facing each other, and ellie was off to the side. she was already holding her utensils in both hands, bouncing them off the table as she eagerly took in the spread of food. "can we?" she asked, not even taking her eyes off the pancake stack.

"go for it, kid," you laughed, pouring out the drinks for everyone. joel watched ellie load her plate with a little of everything, and then he waited for you to do the same before he took his turn. you noticed he steered clear from the pancakes, which upset you, but you tried not to let it show. honestly you were just thankful that they had come over. small victories, you guess.

ellie slathered up her pancakes with a little of each of the jelly spreads you had, and then practically shoved a whole pancake in her mouth. "oh my god," the words were muffled by the food. joel chewed on a piece of bacon, his eyes narrowing at the girl as she continued to boast about how good the food was, with her mouth full.

"jesus, ellie. what have we talked about? have some manners, please." he asked, his voice a little stern as he handed ellie part of his napkin. you watched the interaction with a small grin on your face. they may not have been biologically related, but joel was every bit a father towards the girl and seeing his care for her in person made your stomach flutter.

"sorry 'bout that," joel muttered your way, motioning to ellie with his fork. "we're workin' on it." ellie gave you a sheepish look before continuing to eat like she hadn't in days. which you knew was far from the truth, considering you had had her over for lunch just the other day.

"it's okay. i remember how i was when i first came into the community, too. i'm glad she's enjoying it." you caught the questioning look in joel's eyes, as if he was curious to hear more. it definitely wasn't something you wanted to discuss in front of ellie, though. you knew she had been through a lot, probably more than you had if you were being honest, but you imagined that she was tired of hearing about all the bad in the world. you wanted to help show her, and joel, the good. because lord, did they look like they needed it.

the conversation flowed easily after that. joel and ellie told you all about life in a qz, which was something you had managed to escape, as you and your family hid away in a secret bunker for the beginning of the outbreak. ellie told you about the school there and how much she hated it, how she would sneak out with a friend of hers sometimes and explore. this seemed to be news to joel, as he stared at her intently while she confessed these secrets.

you learned how ellie loved to draw, and when you asked her if she would draw some art for your living room she practically shot out of her seat in excitement. you learned how joel used to play the guitar and how he wanted to be a singer before the outbreak, something ellie lovingly poked fun at. you could see it, though. he definitely had the voice for singing, a rich, thick, deep sound that you imagine could've sold millions.

you practically begged him to teach you how to play the guitar, but he made no promises. ellie let it slip about the time that she found your hidden romance novels in a box in a closet, which had caused you to choke on your orange juice. she quickly steered the conversation to her comic books, though, and you blessed the kid’s short attention span.

when the food had been demolished (mostly by ellie) you all gathered up the dirty dishes and lugged them back into the kitchen. as you gathered the cups from the table and walked into the kitchen, you saw joel standing at your sink, already washing off the plates. "oh, joel, you don't have to do that. i can do them later," you offered, balancing your cups on the counter near the sink.

"'s not a problem, really. you cooked, i can clean." his voice was final, as was the firm glance he gave your way as you tried to sneak the sponge away from him. you held your hands up in surrender, laughing quietly as you made your way to the living room where ellie was. she was spread out across the couch, hands rested on her stomach with her eyes closed.

her chest was rising and falling steadily, and so you poked her foot slightly, waiting a couple moments before doing it again. she didn't even flinch, so you quietly walked back into your kitchen, where joel was drying his hands off with a rag. "well, i'm like seventy percent sure the kid is asleep."

"only seventy?" he asked, giving you a quirked eyebrow. you watched him fold up your dishrag and put it on the counter, and for some reason you were so enthralled with the gentleness of how he did it. how could anyone in this town be afraid of this man, how could they cross the street to the other sidewalk when he was passing by, when he was in your kitchen, washing your dishes and folding your rags?

you cleared your throat. "yeah, only seventy. there's a slight chance she's faking it and trying to scare me, but the joke's on her. i'm not going to check on her again." you held your head up high, proud that you could have potentially caught on to one of ellie's pranks (though you would later realize she was, indeed, asleep, and in some turnabout way ellie still won because now she had you paranoid.)

joel's lips curved, and you heard him mumble "oh, ellie," quite fondly. you both leaned back against your respective counters, and you were scrambling for something to say when joel beat you to it. "do you uh..." he coughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "would you wanna go sit on the porch, maybe? give the kid some space?"

you had to stop yourself from squealing. here you were trying to think of ways to get joel to stay and he volunteered the perfect option himself. you found yourself shaking your head enthusiastically. "yeah! i can make us some drinks if you want?" he nodded in agreement, thanking you quietly before sneaking out to the porch.

you gave yourself a moment to freak out before getting joel a glass of whiskey and yourself a glass of water. you snagged a blanket off of a chair and quietly shut the door behind you. joel was getting comfortable on the loveseat bench you had near the door, and you handed off his glass before settling down yourself, pulling the blanket around your legs.

it was that time of year in wyoming where the mornings and evenings were still chilly from winter and more than not, you'd still need to bundle up, but the sun was blazing for the majority of the day. outside the sun was beginning to set, the sky a kaleidoscope of pink and orange and blue hues. the crickets were chirping again, and in the distance you could hear the soft tunes of music coming from the tipsy bison.

joel turned towards you, motioning his glass of whiskey to you, offering you the first sip. you were never one to drink - you never got accustomed to the strong taste - but you didn’t want to turn joel down, so you accepted it with a grin, your fingers brushing against his softly. your face was already warm when you brought the cup to your mouth, taking a small sip that resulted in you coughing.

“not a fan?” joel asked, a small smile on his face as he took the glass back from you. amusement sparkled in his brown eyes, and even if it was from your hiccup, you were happy that he was finally warming up to you.

“not at all. my parents were big drinkers growin’ up so i kinda tried to avoid all of it. it’s not a very welcoming taste,” you laughed at yourself, wiping the edge of your mouth with the blanket. joel was still grinning at you, and he motioned the glass towards you again.

“tastes better the second time,” he said casually, that sparkle still in his eyes. you narrowed your own eyes at him, a hint of a smile on your lips. “are you lying to me, joel miller?”

“maybe, maybe not. one way to find out.” he shrugged his shoulders, angling the glass towards you even more.

and you knew he was lying. you knew it and he knew it, but you wanted to see if it would make him smile again, maybe even laugh. so, you grabbed the cup, took in a deep breath, and took another sip. you wish you could say that you drank it with dignity, maybe just a small cough, but unfortunately that was not the case. the taste was so repulsive in your throat that it made you gag slightly, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and god you were so embarrassed but -

a deep chuckle sounded from the man next to you, the corners of his eyes creasing as his mouth spread into a grin. he placed his hand against his chest as he laughed, probably thinking you were a bit too much of an idiot to fall for his teasing. but to you? it was worth it. you wanted to be the cause of that sound forever.

“that was mean, miller.” you laughed, taking a sip of the water that you had brought out with you.

“i know, i’m sorry hun. couldn’t help myself,” his voice was teasing, his eyes shining in the pink and orange glow slowly fading from the skyline. you pulled your blanket around you tighter, trying to fight back the blush that always seemed to encompass your cheeks when you were around joel. “so… romance books, huh?”

“oh, shush. they’re a guilty pleasure of mine, okay?” you confessed, your eyes rolling as you laughed. you had thought he might have missed ellie's comment about them earlier, but apparently not. maybe it was the whiskey you sipped earlier, or maybe it was simply joel’s comforting presence, but you continued. “it’s kind of silly, but i’ve never been in love before. and i’ve always wondered what it would be like. to just… have someone by your side, fighting for you. those books are as close as i can get.”

you watched his grin fade slowly and a distant look passed through his dark eyes. “‘m sure the books exaggerate the feeling quite a bit, though.” his voice was rough, and he rubbed his hand across his jaw almost absentmindedly. his gaze was on the bench of the seat between the two of you, where your toes were peeking out from underneath the blanket.

“well, duh. they are fictional, joel.” you poked his arm that had moved to rest on the back of the bench, subsequently resting behind your shoulders. “but i think the authors had to pull from some real-life emotions, though, right?”

“touché,” his shoulder shrugged as he responded, his mouth tilting up at the side. he let his hand fall from his jaw, his arm spreading across his legs as his hand reached to play with the tassels on the edge of your blanket. your heart raced.

“have you ever been in love?” your voice was quiet, curious. your fingers traced the edge of your cup, and joel's eyes zeroed in on the movement. you had learned an awful lot about ellie tonight, as you had been for the last few weeks that you've known her. but you were wanting to learn more about the man sitting next to you.

he was quiet, contemplative, even. for a second you worried you pressed too far, that he wasn't even going to respond to you. you were trying to figure out a way to backpedal when he cleared his throat. “thought i was, a long time ago. it wasn’t that kind of frilly romance stuff you read about, though. it was... real. and it didn't last.” you nodded your head, taking in his information silently.

god, did you want to press on more. this man was like a vault, only offering you pieces of himself when he felt it necessary. you wanted to hoard those pieces away for yourself until you collected enough to fully know who joel miller was. you felt like this may have been a topic he wasn't fully ready to dive into yet, so you turned it back to yourself. “sometimes i worry i’ll never be able to experience it. especially with the way the world is right now.”

he took a healthy sip from his glass, and you noticed he had placed his lips where yours had been. that made you shiver, and you tucked yourself tighter with the blanket. “well, i feel like if anyone deserves to, it should be you.” he avoided your gaze with his confession, focusing on the retreating sun and the sky as it grew into a darker hue.

you were quiet for a second, your eyes squinting slightly as you inspected joel. his dark hair was tousled perfectly, and you could see hints of grey streaking through the strands. the same went for his beard, which he had kept close to his skin. his tan skin complemented the olive-green jacket he had put on, though you knew he wore it for the function rather than the aesthetic. he had freckles on the base of his hairline, near his ear. you wonder if he knew that.

“do you think you deserve a second chance to?” your words cut through the silence, causing joel to put that dark gaze on you rather than the sky.

“don’t know what i think i deserve. i’m not the knight in shinin' armor hero that you read about, that’s for sure.” his voice was harsh, and he shook his head slightly before downing the rest of his drink, turning his eyes back to the sunset. you felt your heart break at his words.

“joel," you started softly, placing your hand on top of his arm that was resting behind you. you tilted your head to the side slightly to catch his eye. "i don’t know what you’ve experienced or what you’ve done, but the right person wouldn’t let that come between you. you did what you thought was necessary to survive, and honestly? i can’t blame you. you still deserve good things.”

you saw his grip tighten around his empty glass, but his gaze stayed focused on yours. god, did you hope that he understood what you were saying. that it somehow broke through the walls he surely had built around his heart. you could see his head nodding minutely, like his body was able to accept your words even if his head didn't.

the screen door opened just then, tearing the attention away to ellie as she slowly tripped her way onto the porch. she was rubbing her eyes with one of her hands, and while still yawning, she asked, "can we go home, joel?"

joel shot you an amused look, and you stifled a laugh as he stood up, rubbing his hands together slightly as the air took a sharp chill. "sure thing, kiddo." you stood up too, walking over to ellie and giving her a quick hug. she thanked you for the dinner and lazily made her way down the porch steps, still rubbing her eyes.

you turned to joel, who was watching his girl on the sidewalk. "thank you for coming over." you nudged a rock on the porch with your foot, wrapping your arms around your middle as you looked up to him.

"thank you for invitin' us over. we really appreciate it."

"of course. we could make this a weekly thing, ya know. if you wanted to, that is." you were dangerously close to rambling status, wanting to give joel reasons why he should say yes, so you shut your mouth, leaving it open to him. he glanced down at you, the height difference between the two of you leaving you just at his shoulders. you liked that, for some reason.

he waited a moment before responding. "i think we could make it work, yeah." you could see the hint of a smile crossing his lips, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, taking a step closer to wrap your arms around his side.

he froze, and you almost pulled away with an apology on your lips before you felt him shift, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. and then, you froze under him as you felt his lips brush against your forehead. the movement was so faint you thought you imagined it, but when he whispered, "good night, hon," you could feel his breath against your skin.

and so, you whispered back, "good night, joel," and pulled away, waving your fingers slightly as he went down the steps. he caught up to ellie in no time, and you grinned as you watched him put his arm around ellie's shoulders, steering her in the right direction.

later you would replay the nights events in your mind on a loop. you'd come up with different things you should have done or should have said. you'd wonder about joel's response to the pancakes, and whether he would ever tell you the truth behind his flinch. you hoped he would believe that he did deserve that second chance, and you prayed that he would take it with you.

but for right now, as the crickets chirped louder than before, as the streetlights started to flicker on one by one, and as the stars began littering the sky with their glow, you were happily content with the way things went tonight. and you knew, for certain, that you were in deep with joel miller.

tag list *:·ﾟ@yyiikes @farintonorth @scarletsloveletter

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yeonjunszn · 11 months

Text

ASAP!

PAIRING! mark lee x f!reader

GENRES! fluff﹒crack﹒slice of life?

WARNINGS! as per usual, it is not a yeonjunszn smau without my sailors mouth — so mature language, coffee shop!au cause i work in one and couldn’t resist myself, this smau is actually a recreation of a yeonjun smau called cool it! by my bff past tumblr user yuitaru, manager mark era, kinda dumb reader (affectionate) era, milf lover jeno, insane jaemin and hyuck, chenle in his nepotism baby era tbh, there’s a fight scene somewhere, also annoying fluffy cute disgusting scenes here and there, an overt amount of coffee shop/barista references bc i am a master at my craft, mr. choi yeonjun has a cameo to pay homage to the original cool it!, ignore time stamps cause i was lazy lol, lmk if i missed anything!

FEAT! the rest of nct dream, yangyang + xiaojun + hendery from wayv, chaewon from le sserafim, sumin from stayc, mingi + the rest of the ateez ‘99 line, and yeonjun from txt

SUMMARY! you’re not exactly the best barista at zhong coffee, but for some unknown reason (his massive crush on you), mark thinks you can do no wrong. sick and tired of his favoritism and your lack thereof due to absolute obliviousness, your coworkers are determined to fix this problem. asap.

STATUS! completed!

BEGINNING! june 1, 2023

END! august 31, 2023

MORE! HELLOOOO im back bffs 😵 did u miss me??? i have a quick little disclaimer for u guys so i don’t get accused of stealing 😻😻😻🫶

thank u so much to rina my bff bestie soulmate for giving me the rights to recreate cool it! and sort of bring back such a fun smau </3 i’ve been working on asap! for quite some time now, between work and school, and i’m so excited i can finally share her with all of u 🫶 i do plan on going back to all my works that are on hold (including my 1k event LOL) but i was sort of burnt out for a while which is why i did all this in absolute silence 😋👍 anyway!! i hope i did her justice <3 send an ask to join the taglist!!

PROFILES! mark’s biggest haters | espresso patronum | the rest of chenle’s coffee maids

ONE! please no tweeting on the clock, y/n!

TWO! manager zoned is crazy

THREE! BACK OF THE LINE PAL

FOUR! go work at mcdonald’s or something

FIVE! common chenle L

SIX! i always knew u were a furry

SEVEN! call me karen from mean girls

EIGHT! mark antis 1 - mark 0

NINE! the best ever (1.1k)

TEN! NANEUN ALCOHOL-FREE GEUNDE CHWIHAE

ELEVEN! YESSSS GO GIRL BOSS

TWELVE! i don’t owe u shit freeloader

THIRTEEN! force and sheer determination

FOURTEEN! yoooo mark how it be? what it do?

FIFTEEN! pick me choose me

SIXTEEN! lunch break (499)

SEVENTEEN! DONG SICHENG ?

EIGHTEEN! hey guys this is god

NINETEEN! i will force his hand into a blender

TWENTY! chocolate croissant (841)

TWENTY ONE! #xiaojun_out

TWENTY TWO! grinders and coffee beans (951)

TWENTY THREE! what is a marky/n

TWENTY FOUR! shaking shivering sobbing

TWENTY FIVE! every summertime (1.08k)

TWENTY SIX! worlds worst barista. fired.

TWENTY SEVEN! cool it

#nct #nct smau #nct social media au #nct socmed au #nct mark x reader #nct mark smau #mark lee x reader #mark lee smau #mark lee social media au #mark x reader #mark smau #mark social media au #asap.mark❕#yeonjunszn

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koolades-world · 10 months

Note

Oh my god. Nightbringer Satan crushing on MC and Demon brothers freaking out because it's the same thing that happened with Lillith. Lucifer acts like a clown. (Maybe tries the atic). Belphie too.

NO BUT you think exactly like me, like omg are we secretly twins… The idea is still so fresh in brother's minds since it literally just happened, and Satan is none the wiser. He didn’t live through it after all. He hasn't really had a real conversation about what happened to them since he hates being around them. And honestly, anything that pisses off Lucifer must be the right choice for him. And the thing about the attic! Kinda like to think that Lucifer realized that attic was the perfect place to hide his brothers after sticking Satan up there. If it could contain Satan, what couldn’t it contain? it’s too perfect! I think I just love anything Satan angst

idk if this was a request or not but I kinda wanna write something for this idea anyways so,, ty anon you're literally so cool, sending my love :)

I haven’t gotten through all of Nightbringer’s story yet so sorry if this isn’t totally accurate to what happens. I'm on like chapter 5 and I haven't seen any spoilers... Honkai Star Rail recently came out and my friends are also playing that game so we’ve been playing that. Will go back to Nightbringer soon!

brewing just under the surface

It has been some time since Mc had been outed as a human. It has taken everyone except Solomon time to adjust. At first, everyone was furious in their own ways. Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer showed it in the typical way. It was the most they had truly let themselves go after falling. Everyone in the Devildom was advised to stay inside. Levi and Beel holed themselves up inside, hiding away from the world, fearing that if they showed themselves, they would be burnt again. Asmo found himself drinking into a stupor almost nightly, as when he laid in bed trying to fall asleep, all he could think about was Mc. Mammon was similar. He was rarely home, afraid he would see Mc so he went out gambling or exploring the Devildom to take his mind off everything. Eventually, they began to warm back up to Mc.

Mammon, however, was also the quickest to find himself missing Mc. He began to forgive them and understand their situation. They had been nothing but sweet to him, so he felt like he owed it to them. They had been a friend in a tough time. He began taking them with him on his adventures and gambled less. With them, he felt happier, more like himself. Part of him was kind of giddy they could exist in a state like this, despite everything. He felt like he could forget everything with them. He had them all to himself, after all. Even if they were a human, they were still the same deep down.

Eventually, Beel and Levi came around, followed by Asmo. The remaining three brothers thought they could never forgive Mc. Lucifer had placed so much trust in their attendant only for him to learn they couldn’t even tell the truth about who they were to him. He might be able to come around one day, but for the meantime, he needed to be alone. Belphie had vowed to hate humans for as long as he lived, so forgiveness was out of the question completely.

However, Satan wasn’t really sure why he was so mad. He struggled to find a reason to be mad sometimes. He would rage until he wasn’t really sure why he was raging in the first place, which would make him begin to rage all over again. He had no substantial relationship with this attendant. He was always locked up, locked out, or just too mad to interact with, making him unable to connect with them. It wasn’t on his brother’s behalf either. He didn’t really care about them too much, not enough to be this upset. Mc did technically lie to him, but that thought didn’t really provoke him. So, what was it? That's the mess he had found himself in for the past week or so. He wasn't really sure when he started thinking about it, but he was really tumbling down the rabbit hole now.

Satan was tuckered out after a long night out of causing destruction. He found himself at peace on very few occasions. One of the things that gave him the time to think in peace was after he was tired, or after he had just woken up. When he wasn't angry, he found himself enjoying things, such as thinking or the beauty of the world around him. Because of this, he was seated at the edge of a cliff, looking over the ocean. His legs and tail dangled over the edge. He looked minuscule compared to everything else. The sky was dark, so he stared down at the waves crashing against the cliff. Sometimes, he would overhear his brothers complaining about how it was always dark in the Devildom, but he actually thought it was nice. It comforted him. Not too far away was a road. One of the moons hung low in the sky. The others were not visible at the moment. In another moment of blissful clarity, he had taken the time to learn about the Devildom sky from a book. It had been a gift from Mc. Why they would give him a gift like that was beyond him, but he had found himself enjoying it despite that. It was one of the few things he had not destroyed in his rage.

While staring at sea, he simply thought. With a clear mind, he began to wonder why he still found himself mad at Mc. He hadn't seen them in a while, so maybe the feelings had calmed down. It was positive that he was able to think about it calmly, anyways. He was still unsure why exactly he was mad at Mc in the first place. Perhaps he had thought he had finally found someone that he could somewhat relate to. But then again, they still didn't know each other that well. As he was trapped in his thought, he heard the crunching of gravel behind him.

“Mammon? You out here?” The person he has just been thinking about had suddenly appeared as if it was magic. They had a motorcycle helmet pinched between their arm and torso. They froze once they realized Satan was there.

“Hey, Mc.” He turned back to look over the ocean.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were out here. You haven’t seen Mammon recently, have you?” They remained standing awkwardly behind him.

“No.” He kept his answers short, not really sure how to reply.

“Right, thank you.” They didn’t move at first. Then they spoke again. “Do you mind if I sit next to you for a moment?”

Satan thought about it for a moment. “I don’t mind.” He had a lot of questions. They settled next to him. Most anyone who sat next to him sat at least an arms length away. But Mc sat just within reach. Not too close to invade his personal space, but close enough to talk to him on a personal level. If they wanted, they could reach out and touch his shoulder. They set their helmet on the side farther from him.

“What brings you out here?” They asked, looking at the sky too. He had to stop and think about their question again. If it had been anyone else, this would have bothered him by now.

“I’m not sure. It’s beautiful, mysterious. Maybe that’s why.” He looked at them from the corner of his eye. Their looked out at the connection between the ocean and the sky.

“I’ve always loved nature. It’s not the same as home, but it’s beautiful in a different way.” The way they referenced the human works so casually made something within him twinge. Lucifer hated that place, and he should too, but he found himself curious.

“What was it like there?” He asked. They looked surprised, but answered nonetheless.

“It depended where you were. I grew up in a place where everything was always green with life, and you could always find some sort of life somewhere. But I traveled to places where all you could see was sand or the endless sea, like now. The biggest difference was the rising and setting sun. It wasn’t always dark. The sun always rose in the morning, to chase away to dark, and the sun always set to welcome the dark back. I used to wish it could always be night so I didn’t have to go to school and spend all my time at midnight reading, but now I miss it.” They reminisced. He finally turned his head to look at them. The stars and sea reflected in their eyes. “You eyes remind me of the morning. The forest and the rising sun illuminating it all.”

Satan paused again. He has never taken the time to look that closely at his eyes. He would have to look at them the next chance he got. “Thank you.” He finally said. “Do you miss the human world?”

It was Mc’s turn to stop. They still hadn’t realized he was looking at them. “Sometimes I do. But the Devildom has a charm. I’ve spend so much time here, it’s hard not to love. I do love it here.” They looked furthered down at the rocks below, reflecting the crashing waves in their eyes instead. “Someday, I would like to take you there. You would love some of the remote nature locations.”

This statement made Satan heat up. He couldn’t comprehend how they could say such kind things to him, the embodiment of anger. “That sounds nice.” His mind began to wander and suddenly, everything he has been feeling dawned on him. Mc was his friend. He had a friend. It was warm feeling that he didn’t know how to describe, but it did make him want to hold and care for Mc.

“Can I hug you? It’s fine if you say no, I understand.” He nervously looked back over at them again. This time, they were looking back at him. They hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. They scooted over to him, and wrapped their arms around him. They placed their head on his shoulder and inhaled. Satan was sure this was the most amount of affection he had gotten, probably ever. He was almost overwhelmed at first by the emotions he felt.

“You give really good hugs.” Mc seemed to really enjoy the embrace, but he didn’t dare respond. He wasn’t even sure what to say. He didn’t want to let go. This was probably also one of the most peaceful, sweet moments he’d ever had. “I should get going. Mammon is still missing.” Mc sighed.

“Alright.” He let go of them, but they didn’t scoot away quickly. They sat there for a moment, thinking.

“I’m making dinner tonight, if you’re interested. I also have something for you back at the house, so let me know once you get home. See you later.” They then got up, picked up their helmet, and left. They turned around a final time to wave, and he paused for a moment before waving back.

That was the beginning of it all. After that, he found himself by Mc’s side more and more. They went to see more remote scenery, and eventually, they went out in public together. He was still the same irritable, hotheaded demon, but he found it happening less often in the presence of Mc. When it did, they were always there to pick up the pieces of what he has done and comfort him. He was worried he might harm them at first, but they quickly proved they could handle themselves. They knew what made him tick and always seemed to know what he was going to do next. He would still have outbursts pretty frequently, but Mc mysteriously was always right on top of it.

Of course, his brothers, if he even dared call them that, noticed. They claimed they didn't care about their attendant but at the same time got upset with him for hogging their attention. Many times, Mc broke up fights between him and his housemates for this very reason. Even if he wasn't the Avatar of Wrath, he wouldn't have backed down. He still wasn't sure why. He wanted to hold them, love them, care for them. He was smart enough to know this wasn't how a friend would feel about another. Still, he had no clue what it could be if it wasn't that. As much as he didn't dislike Belphegor, he kept finding himself thwarting his attempts to kill Mc. They used to be his least hated of his "brothers" but now he had to say Beelzebub was the least hated now since he would help to control his unruly twin.

He found himself turning to books for answers. There was no one he could ask for advice besides Mc themselves, and he didn't feel comfortable bring this up with them. He was trying to grow more independent anyways. Books reminded him of Mc, since they had been to one to show him how useful they could be. They held the answers to everything, as long as you were holding the right one. Occasionally, he would find himself wanting to rip one to shreds but refrained since he knew it may be useful in the future. Besides, what would Mc think?

All of the books he consulted said the same thing. They described this feeling as a "crush" or whatever that might mean. He thought that word was stupid. The actual meaning was to destroy something with intense pressure and he definitely didn't want to do that. Other than that, he found the definition clear. He thought the word love might describe how he felt better, but he was too afraid to call it that. He did think they were attractive, and he would say it happened rather quick. But what was he supposed to do? They were the only person willing to get close to him.

He was in the middle of reading this book and processing this information when Lucifer threw open the door to his room. His room wasn’t barren anymore. Mc had built a small shelf for him to place his small book collection on. They had done it by hand so he was very careful with it.

“What are you plotting with that human?” He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Nothing. Get out.” He didn’t look up from his read, but his tail lashed about like an aggravated cat. He prided himself for not tacking him the moment he walked in.

“If you would just tell me, I won’t have to do anything the hard way.” Lucifer didn’t relent. He rushed forward to grab his collar and suspended him midair. “I know about your little crush.” Satan immediately stopped struggling. He was stunned. He couldn't bring himself to form a response.

"That is strictly prohibited. You are to maintain a professional relationship with the attendant.” Satan looked into Lucifer’s eyes. He still wasn’t great at anything relating to emotions, but there was something more than anger stirring in his piercing eyes.

“And since when has that mattered to you? You filthy pig.” Satan snarled, moving to grab the hands at his collar.

“There’s so much you don’t know. You have yet to learn. I don’t care if you hate me. I refuse to lose another one.” The air stilled after those words. He had never sounded Lucifer so upset. It made Satan begin to think. Compared to his housemates, he was nothing but a blip on the radar of time. Before he could even think about forming a response, Lucifer was moving, still holding him. Satan protested and struggled, causing a ruckus.

Mc had been sitting with Mammon in his room, giggling together quietly over another stupid outfit Mc had made. They both went silent as they heard the struggle pass the door, the mood spoiled. They glanced at each other before cracking the door. Mc knew that Lucifer and Satan hadn’t had a physical fight in a while now, so when they saw Lucifer carting Satan off somewhere, they pushed the door open all the way.

“Lucifer. What’s going on here?” When Lucifer didn’t stop, Mc ran after him, causing Mammon to follow as well. He ignored their insistent cries. Mc grabbed onto his lowest pair of wings at the base and dug their heels into the ground in vane. They felt themselves begin to pale as they marched towards the stairs leading to the attic. The attic only held terrible memories, but they were determined to help fix whatever was going on.

As the parade went upstairs, Mc tripped on the first step. Lucifer continued without them, not even acknowledging that they fell. Their knees stung. Mammon was quick to appear at their side and give them a hand up. He had never asked why they seemed so traumatized by the attic, but he knew they even hated being anywhere near that spiral staircase. Dust showered the both of them as Lucifer stomped angrily up the stairs. Their ascent was anything but silent.

“Are ya sure ya wanna go after ‘em?” Mammon whispered to Mc.

“I do. Will you go with me?” They gripped his hand tightly.

“I would go even if ya didn’t ask.” After taking a deep breath, Mc began to ascend the stars as quickly as they dared after the duo, gripping Mammon’s hand. Upon arriving at the top, Mc swallowed nervously as they were greeted with an all too familiar sight. The metallic, enchanted bars looked newer than the last time they had seen them. Lucifer was currently standing behind them holding Satan. Standing as tall as they dared, Mc spoke up.

“Lucifer. What do you think you’re doing?” Their voice came out weaker than intended. Satan had never seen them so fearful. Sweat glistened on their forehead. As Lucifer turned around to face them, they stumbled back a little.

“This does not concern you, Mc. I thought I made it clear that I did not need a human meddling in my affairs.” Anytime Lucifer moved even a little, Satan noticed they seemed ready to dive to the ground or throw their hands over their head.

“Satan is my friend. I’m here for him. We can talk about this.” Their voice wavered.

“What part of leaving my private affairs alone do you not understand? You are merely an attendant. I have attempted to speak to Satan in the past. This hasn’t worked before. It will not work now.” Lucifer shook Satan a little. He growled.

“I understand you don’t want me to be part of that, and that’s fine, but I know a more healthy and less, uh, strenuous way of communicating. If you would just listen to me-“ Mc gently patted the air as a way of showing they were trying to tone down the situation.

“I will not repeat myself again. If Satan wants to act like an animal, I will treat him like one. Since you seem so keen on talking, I’ll just throw you in there with him. If you’re still alive when I return, I’ll consider it.” Lucifer moved Satan to hold him with one hand. As they reached for Mc, they went into a flurry of movement.

“No!” The shriek they let out pierced even the ears of Lucifer. They grabbed onto anything and everything to get between them and Lucifer. They continued to scream loudly, telling Lucifer to stay back. The only thing that truly proved a barrier between Lucifer and the human was Mammon. He seemed shaken by everything, but refused to move.

“Luci. I love ya and yer the best older brother I coulda wanted, but doncha think this is too far?” Mammon crossed his arms, hiding Mc behind himself.

“I warned them already. It’s time they pay the consequences of their actions. Humans are bad news.” Lucifer tried to reach around Mammon, but he caught his arm. Without another word, Lucifer grabbed Mammon’s arm right back and threw him over the edge and down the staircase. With him out of the way, Lucifer easily grabbed the human by the throat. They abruptly stopped making any noise. He shook them a little, seemingly enjoying how they swayed under his grasp and then threw both the entities in his hands into the attic. The door slammed shut and Lucifer disappeared. He could be heard yelling at the bottom of the stairs at Mammon.

For the first ten minutes, Satan wasn’t even sure if Mc was alive. They held completely still and remained exactly how they had been throw in. They were on their side facing away from him. Once Satan was sure nobody was coming back, he crawled over to them. He flipped them onto their back and was met with their familiar face. They quickly made eye contact with him, holding it. They way they stared at him made Satan nervous. Now was not the time to be getting butterflies. The attic was barren. There was no bed, or hundreds of spare boxes. There was little besides a layer of dust and what seemed to be some of Diavolo’s old things.

Satan ghosted his hand over their forehead. They were sweaty. He didn't know what to say. Mc was always better at dealing with emotions, but he knew they needed him. He thought back to what they would do after he had a meltdown. "Does anything hurt?" He first asked. They didn't do anything at first. He just sat and waited for them to respond, because sometimes he didn't respond right away either.

"Just my feelings." Mc cracked a smile. He was glad that they were feeling good enough to try to joke, but he also wasn't sure what he would have done if they had said they were physically hurt.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" That was the next thing Mc always said to him.

"Did you ever read that one book about the stars that I gave you?" He was taken by surprise by the question.

"I did." He had really liked it.

"Let's look out the window then, and you can point out your favorite stars." They pushed themself up with a wince. He held a hand out, to which they accepted without thought. They had lied to him about not being hurt. They leant the window sill as he began explaining what he had read. Eventually, he let Mc begin to explain things he had questions about. Again, he found himself looking at them instead of the stars. The lengths they went for him were beyond him.

He wasn't sure how to approach confessing how he felt. Now didn't feel like the right time. For now, he could just admire and appreciate them. Hopefully, that day would come...

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me x reader #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me mammon #obey me beel #obey me lucifer

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initialchains · 5 months

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10 things i hate about you | anthony lockwood.

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: george karim falls in love with your sister, and the only thing standing between him and the love of his life is the fact that she isn’t allowed to date unless you do, too. luckily for him, anthony lockwood would do anything for a bit of publicity.

wc: 5.8k (part one)

a/n: hii i felt so bad for leaving you all hanging, but finals week left me extremely burnt out and tired. luckily, the lockwood brainrot is neverending, so as a way of saying sorry here’s the first part of this silly ol’ fic. (including the first five things to hate about lockwood.) i’m also super sorry for the next part because it will be 90% angst lol ++ this is inspired by the movie but not completely based on it bc it’s my all time favorite film and i was scared of not doing it justice.

Lucy swore she was going to quit the agency again if George didn’t stop pacing around the kitchen like an idiot. She kept thinking of things to say to get him to stop, but a part of her also wanted to see how long this pathetic situation in front of her would take, she knew it wouldn’t be long until their researcher got tired of walking back and forth. And that’s where she is now. Sitting in the kitchen, an empty mug staring back at her, while George kept pacing in front of her and Lockwood.

“Hey, George! I have an idea. Why don’t you sit down and tell us what’s going on like a normal person, instead of just muttering I’m so fucked over and over?”

George finally stopped and looked up at her. He stood still for a few seconds before taking a seat next to Lockwood.

“Well, I’m fucked.”

“Yeah, I think we heard that part.”

“Luce, stop,” Lockwood said in the softest voice he could muster, before turning to George. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe we can help.”

George took a deep breath before starting. “So, you know how I’ve been telling you both and Holly about that one girl from the archives?”

Lockwood smiled at that. The thought of George crushing on a girl after bonding with her about their love for research is still one of the cutest things he has ever heard.

“Oh, right. How are things going with her? Is everything alright?”

“Well, sort of. I mean, everything is alright, but just when I thought of finally making a move on her, she kind of, um… dropped a bomb on me?”

“A bomb? But you already knew she’s a Fittes agent, that’s not new.” Lucy stated.

“Yes, I know. And trust me, there’s nothing wrong with that.” George continued, “She is the sweetest, most intelligent, beautiful human being to have ever lived. I mean it.”

Lucy and Lockwood shared a knowing look. George was totally a goner for this girl.

“Then.. just ask her out?” Lockwood suggested, watching carefully as George fidgeted with the thinking cloth, now too shy to look at his friends.

“That’s the problem, I can’t,” George explained, before pulling his glasses away and rubbing his eyes. The stress of the situation clearly getting the best of him.

“Okay, this will probably be a stupid question, but.. why?” Lucy asked, genuinely confused by the problem her friend was going through. Sure, asking someone out is frightening, but it’s not like George was about to fight a type two without any kind of protection.

George took a deep breath before finally explaining. “She can’t go out with me unless her sister gets a date, too.”

Lucy almost laughed at how stupid the so-called bomb was. “Well, ask one of her colleagues to woo her or something. She’s a Fittes agent too, right?” She suggested, remembering the only fact they knew about said sister. “She must know a bunch of people willing to date her.”

George found the strength to look up, making eye contact with Lockwood and then turning to Lucy, before finally dropping the bomb on them. “I can’t, everyone at Fittes despises her.”

Shit.

Lockwood and Lucy didn’t even have to think twice about who the sister in question was. There’s only one person who is loathed by every single Fittes agent, and surprisingly it isn’t Quill Kipps. George was talking about Fittes’ very own heinous bitch. (Obviously, the nickname was granted by the one and only Bobby Vernon. But to be fair, it’s not like he is the most reliable of people. Lockwood took note of that.)

Portland Row was silent for a few moments until Lucy finally spoke up. “Well, George. The world is wide, there will always be other people for you to fall for.”

“Luce.” Lockwood warned her.

“I’m trying to help!”

“I know you are, but George really likes this girl.” He explained

“I think I might be in love with her. No, scratch that. I am in love with her.” George confessed in a small whisper.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Luce.”

“Sorry!”

“I told you we would try to help, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Right, Lucy?” Lockwood looked at her, an unspoken beg passing between them.

“Fine, yeah, we will. What do you know about her sister? Maybe we can find someone with the same interests as her. Like umm.. Holly? or the guy who sweeps the floor at Arif’s?” Lucy almost winced at how stupid their repertoire of options was, the three of them were friends with a limited number of people, and by limited she meant Holly and a guy who always greets them when they get something from Arif’s

George thought for a few moments about everything he knew about her. “I know she’s a team leader–” He couldn’t even finish his list, let alone his sentence, because before he could even continue, Lockwood stood up.

“I’ll do it.” He said with a small shrug, almost as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

A chorus of “I’m sorry?” and “What the fuck?” were heard at the same time, but Lockwood couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to do this.

“What? You said you wanted someone to woo her. Right, Luce?” He explained as he took Lucy’s empty mug away from her and moved to the sink.

Lockwood’s back faced them while he washed their used dishes. “Yes, but.. why do you want to do it?”

“It’s a win-win situation. If I go out with her, George will get to date her sister, and we will get publicity.” The way Lockwood explained the situation with such ease had Lucy thinking he had planned this beforehand.

“Publicity?” George finally spoke up.

“Yes. You said she’s a team leader, which means she is important, and we also know she’s disliked by every single one of her peers, which means the press will be surprised to see her hanging out with someone. So, if we get photographed together, everyone will want to know what’s so special about the agents of Lockwood and Co. Which means–”

“More cases.” George finished the sentence for him.

“See? It’s easy.” Lockwood, finally done with the dishes, turned around.

“No, it’s not. I think it’s a stupid idea. You won’t be using someone to get this agency more clients, are you insane?” Lucy stated, indignation lacing her words.

“Hey, George. You said you were taking her sister out for breakfast tomorrow, how about we make it a double date?” He said with a bright smile, ignoring Lucy’s words.

“Oh, um.. Okay.”

George was right, Lucy thought. They are so fucked.

1- I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair.

“George, calm down. Everything will be okay, I promise.” Lockwood said, sending an encouraging look to the boy next to him. George was sweating, he didn’t expect your sister to accept the double date. He didn’t expect you to accept the double date.

“I know. I even practiced a speech and everything, it will be alright.”

“You practiced a what?”

George wasn’t able to answer his question because right when Lockwood asked him, they were able to see two silhouettes standing outside of the café they were walking to.

“Oh, they’re here,” Lockwood stated plainly before walking up to them, George looking nervous as fuck next to him.

Sure, George was a sweaty mess, but he knew this would happen. He even expected you to look at him with disgust in your eyes and say something along the lines of “I was dragged here against my will. Fuck you, Karim. You will never date my sister.”

What he didn’t expect to see was your face painted with confusion. George was about to greet you with the long speech he spent the entire night workshopping, but before he could even mutter a word, you let out an exasperated sigh and looked George in the eye before you gaze slipped to Lockwood and then back to him.

“What is it, asshole day? Why are you two here?”

Lockwood was about to open his mouth and answer your question, but luckily your sister spoke up just in time.

“I invited my two friends to have breakfast with us!” She said with a bright, almost angelic smile. George felt like he was in heaven just by seeing her.

“I know about Karim, but why are you friends with Anthony Lockwood?”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me? Only the good things, I hope.” Lockwood said, his charming smile making a way to his face.

“Yeah, like the houses you’ve burned down, and how stupidly reckless you are to the point that you even got shot.” You stated, repulse evident in your eyes as you looked at the man of the hour.

“It’s adorable how much you know about me.”

“Have you ever been to a psych ward? I can get you an appointment set and ready by tonight.”

“You want to see me tonight?”

George feared you might slit Lockwood’s throat with the way you were looking at him. “We should, um, get inside.” He said, trying (and failing) to break the awkward tension, guiding the four of you into the café.

George looked at your sister and whispered into her ear “It’s not my place to assume but.. you didn’t tell her we were coming, did you?”

She gave him a shy smile before answering. “I want her to make some friends, and I think someone like Lockwood might help her come out of her shell.”

She looked so innocent that George wanted to break down crying and tell her all about Lockwood’s dumb publicity plan. This was eating him alive.

You took a seat next to your sister in the booth George had reserved for the four of you. Lockwood smiled when he saw your eyes widen at the sight of him sitting right in front of you.

“Karim, can you switch places with your friend?”

“Why? Are you embarrassed I’ll see you blush whenever you look into my eyes?”

“Have you ever been told that your hairline will recede by the time you’re 30 years old if you keep cutting and styling your hair like that?”

“Have you ever been told that you’re incredibly beautiful?”

Your sister had to place her hand over yours before you could reach for the knife placed in front of you by a waiter. Lockwood couldn’t contain his laughter at the look on your face.

“What’s so fucking funny, Lockwood?”

“Nothing. Don’t mind me, please continue with your insults. I relish being the reason behind your thoughts and words.”

That was enough to shut you up. Your sister, George, and Lockwood shared jokes and stories while you looked down at your plate, the conversation flowing easily between them. Sometimes you’d look up to find Lockwood staring at you, he’d send you a small smile and try to include you in the conversation, but you didn't intend on giving him the satisfaction of getting you to speak, so you’d shut him down with an eye roll.

The rest of the morning went by smoothly until your sister had the brilliant idea to tell you about her plans for the rest of the day.

“You’re going to the archives with Karim.. alone? Just the two of you?”

“Did you not hear her the first time, love?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lockwood.” You snapped at him, hoping your anger was enough to mask the blush rushing into your cheeks.

It wasn’t.

“Did I just make you blush?”

“You made me want to throw up.”

“Deny it all you want, but the pet name clearly had an effect on you.. love.”

“Ugh, whatever.”

The four of you stood up and walked to the café’s exit, Lockwood opening the door for your sister and you. As soon as you got outside, your sister began to apologize for not telling you about her impromptu archives plan with George.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Just.. text me when you get there?” You said softly. Way too softly, Lockwood noticed. He had never seen you this vulnerable, maybe your sister was way more important to you than he expected.

“I will. Promise.”

You said your goodbyes before turning around, planning on walking to your car, but the universe definitely wasn’t on your side today.

“Wait! I’ll go with you.” Lockwood said as he tried to catch up with you, matching the pace of your long strides.

“I don’t know if you can tell, Lockwood, but I’m trying to get away from you.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t drive you home after our first date?”

“You’re not a gentleman, and that wasn’t a date.”

Lockwood pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Ouch, not a gentleman? Thank god my mother isn’t here to hear those words.”

You finally stopped walking and turned around to face him. “What do you want?”

“To.. drive you home?”

“No, Lockwood. What do you want? You tried to include me in your stupid conversation earlier, then paid for my breakfast, opened the door for me, and now you want to drive me home. What the fuck do you want?”

Lockwood stayed silent for a while, just staring into your eyes. “I was trying to be nice to you, is that too hard to believe?”

He took notice of how you looked away from his eyes and tried to keep your hands busy by playing with the hem of your shirt.

You cleared your throat before saying, “Fine, but if you fuck my car up, I swear to god, Lockwood..”

2- I hate the way you drive my car.

The car was silent the entire first half of the ride. Sometimes you’d catch Lockwood staring at you from the corner of your eye, but you never looked back, deciding that looking through the car window was a better sight.

“You don’t talk much unless it is to deliver a well-crafted insult, huh?” Lockwood said, trying to break the silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was just.. tense.

“Do you want me to talk to you?” You answered, slightly surprised by the fact that Anthony Lockwood of all people, wanted to have a conversation with you.

“Yeah.”

“And what do you want me to say? It’s not like I know a single thing about you.”

“You can say whatever you want, I don’t mind. I’ll accept it whether it is you cursing my entire bloodline, or you saying you’re deeply attracted to me.”

The car came to a stop, a red light illuminating Lockwood’s sharp features. You hated to admit it, but fuck, Anthony Lockwood was attractive.

“Me? Deeply attracted to you? Holy shit, did you fall and hit your head as a baby?”

“You so are.”

“Am I that transparent? Because you’re right. Oh, Lockwood, I am so attracted to you and your stupid fucking personality. I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.”

“You have such a beautiful way with words, love.”

That was enough to get a small laugh out of you. Lockwood kept surprising you, he didn’t back down after an insult or two, and he actually seemed to enjoy being indulged in them.

He turned his head to look at you as soon as he heard you laugh, a smile adorning his face. A feeling of pride (and maybe something more) swelled in his chest.

“I can’t believe I just made you laugh for the first time and we’ve been on a date for about three hours now. God, I’m making such a bad first impression.”

“You still won’t let the idea of this being a date go?”

“Nope. I enjoy being on a date with you. You’re a nice person to hang out with.”

The corners of your lips curled up into a small smile. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I would rather take you out on a million dates than spend 30 minutes with any other person,” Lockwood confessed, and he meant it.

“Like you could find a person who would willingly spend 30 minutes with you.”

“Oh, see? That, there. Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

The two of you spent the rest of your ride home talking, the tension slowly evaporating, leaving room for the back-and-forth quips that Lockwood and you kept throwing each other.

Lockwood stopped the car when he heard you say, “Alright, this is my house.” You were about to open the door, but before you could even extend your arm he said a quick, “Wait!” and got out of the car, rounding it to open your door.

“Thanks.”

“Anything and everything for you.”

Just as you were about to answer, a flash and the sound of a camera clicking disrupted the moment you were having.

“You’re fucking with me”, you muttered under your breath. Lockwood looked surprised too, he had completely forgotten about his plan.

Take her out for a few days. Get photographed together. Gain more clients.

His heart sank at the reminder of the reality of this situation. He had been so busy having fun with you, that his mind decided to blur out the reason why he was hanging out with Fittes’ most hated agent.

“Alright. I should, um, go.”

“Do you want me to walk you to your door? Or is the first date too soon to meet your parents?”

“Fuck you, Lockwood,” You said with a smile.

“It doesn’t really seem like you want to.”

He found himself smiling, too.

3- I hate it when you stare.

“What a fun coincidence to find you here, love.”

You rolled your eyes at Lockwood’s annoying voice. “Yeah, it’s such a fun coincidence that you almost burned this house down and my team had to come help your incompetent agency.”

“Third time’s a charm.”

“There’s no way in hell you’ve been the cause of more than two fires.”

“If you let me take you out on another date, maybe I’ll tell you more about them.” You almost stabbed him with your rapier. “Shut up, people might hear.” That brought a bright smile to his face and an incredulous look to his eyes.

“Oh, so you want to keep our relationship a secret? Fine, I’ll take it. I love a forbidden romance.” He whispered, the smell of lavender and lemon engulfing you as he kneeled a bit to whisper in your ear.

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, I need to go check out the paperwork for the mess you made, can you keep an eye on my team?” You shyly asked, breaking the eye contact he was desperately trying to keep.

“You trust me with your team? I thought my agency was incompetent and I wasn’t good at anything.”

“It’s just for a few minutes, don’t let this get to your head.”

“Oh, it’s way over my head, love.”

You showed him a very special finger, before walking away to talk to Barnes. You tried to remain professional and listen to what the inspector was saying, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of a pair of eyes looking at you. “Sorry for calling you again, you know how it gets whenever Lockwood and Co have a case,” Barnes said, breaking you out of the cage your mind had trapped you in.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s my pleasure to help.” You tried to muster up a small smile for the man, you liked Barnes, he never treated you differently, not even when the way you acted and decided to express yourself wasn’t the most appropriate.

“And I think it's their pleasure to be helped.”

“I’m sorry?”

You turned around, following Barnes’ line of sight, only for your eyes to meet Lockwood’s. He gave you a small smile but didn’t look away, it was almost as if he longed for your eyes to make contact. You sent him a small frown, wordlessly asking him what was wrong, he just shrugged and waved at the two of you.

“He is so weird.” You said, turning to face the inspector. “Tell me about it. Well, we are all done here. Have a nice night, and make sure to get home safely.” He answered, eager to get away from the group of agents surrounding him, and walking away.

Lockwood didn’t miss a beat before making his way to you. “So, I’m thinking we make the second date happen over some tea at Portland Row?”

“Not happening.”

“I’m not one to make a woman feel uncomfortable when she says no, but may I ask why?

“I’d rather spend my time hanging out with ten type threes, than with the group of miscreants you call friends. No offense to Lucy and Holly, though. I quite like them. I was talking about Karim, tell that thing to stay away from my sister.” You answered, finally finding the guts to maintain eye contact while you spoke.

“You know Lucy and Holly?” He decided to ignore your entire statement, now only focused on the fact that you knew his friends. Anxiety making its way through his body at the thought of Lucy telling you about his plan.

“Yeah, and they told me some really interesting things about you. I never took you as the type of person to do that type of stuff.”

Lockwood’s heart almost gave out. “What did they say?”

“That you wear pink socks.”

He felt his heart start beating again. Lockwood thought he was about to die in front of you, he made a mental note to thank Lucy for being nice enough to not tell you about his schemes. He found the strength to give you a charming smile.

“That surprised you? Lord, do you think I’m the type of guy to have a fragile masculinity? My mother raised me better than that.”

“You mention your mother a lot, are you close with her?

They should give out awards for Feeling your heart stop two times in the span of 3 minutes because Lockwood was sure he would get one delivered to Portland Row’s doorstep by tomorrow morning.

“I.. um, yeah.”

Fuck. You made it awkward. You almost dropped down to your knees and begged him for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude into your personal life, it’s not my place to ask and assume shit about your family. I’m so fucking sorry, Lockwood.” The light in your eyes dimmed, the sight of it made Lockwood want to tell you all about his past. He wanted to go back to ten minutes ago when your eyes were shining and looking into his. He internally swore to never let the light leave them again.

“You’re good, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He reassured you in a small voice, clearly not fine.

“No, I will worry–” You couldn’t finish your sentence because, once again, the light of a camera flash illuminated Lockwood and you, blinding you both for a split moment.

“Of course they’re here. Jesus Christ, do they not have lives? A family?”

“Maybe they just like taking pictures of your beautiful face.”

The light came back to your dim eyes at his statement. “There he is.” You said, noticing how his gaze slipped from your eyes to your lips, before going back to the eye contact you had.

“What can I say? I can’t stop myself from complimenting you when you’re around.”

4- I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.

The streets of London were quiet while Lockwood took a small walk in the early morning. Lucy told him if he walked around the city for a few hours, he’d be able to break in the new pair of combat boots she got him as a present after he made it through 10 cases without almost dying.

“It’s 8 am and you’re already up being pathetic. I should say I saw this coming, but I really didn’t. Holy shit.” A familiar voice snapped him out of the daze he was in. He was so busy going through a list in his head of all the things he had to do this week, that he didn’t notice you walking next to him.

“How long have you been walking by my side?”

“Long enough to see you staring straight ahead and not noticing how incredibly pathetic you look. Your boots are hideous, by the way.” You answered, looking into his eyes and noticing how he smirked at your last remark.

“I don’t think Lucy will be happy about you calling her well-thought gift hideous.”

You let out a genuine laugh as soon as he said that. It was the type of laugh that bubbled up from your chest and had you throwing your head back. It made Lockwood feel as if all the morning clouds had disappeared and the sun shone only on the two of you. Sure, you had laughed at Lucy’s gift, but the sound was enough to let the sun shine its warm rays through Lockwood’s heart. An infinite sunbathe.

“Oh, so you find this funny? Hurting my best friend’s feelings?” He asked in a teasing tone, squinting slightly at you.

“So.. I take it she didn’t tell you?” You asked, a small giggle escaping your lips and going straight through Lockwood’s heart.

“Tell me what?”

“That our plan was to get you the most ugly, repulsive looking, and incredibly stupid boots that we could find? I wasted my money on that, you’re welcome or whatever.”

He should’ve been offended. Offended at how Lucy wanted him to humiliate himself by walking through the streets of London with a pair of bright neon green combat boots. Offended that she had asked for your help to choose the ugliest pair she could find. But he was too busy fighting the urge to press his lips against yours and to run his slender fingers through your hair.

Did you not notice how you always bit your lip after laughing because you thought that would stop you from falling into another fit of laughter?

“Yeah, yeah, you two are so funny,” He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Thank you, love.” He was about to nudge you with his shoulder, but as soon as he turned to look at you, he noticed you weren’t next to him anymore.

His heart stopped for a second until he finally looked back and caught you staring at two women through a café window, clearly on a date. One of them gave the other a bouquet of different types of flowers and brushed back a strand of her girlfriend’s bright red hair. That brought a smile to your face.

“Hey, you okay?” He whispered as soon as he stood next to you, noticing the sad smile on your face.

“Oh, yeah. I was just..”

You didn’t have to say a word for him to be aware of what you wanted to mention. The look in your eyes, and the small smile on your face.. this was the look you always got whenever you saw your sister with George.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Lockwood reassured you. Not wanting to scare you off after seeing the look on your face and the small voice you used to answer.

“Do you think I’m holding my sister back?” You asked, turning around to look into his eyes, your hands trembling a bit.

He didn’t miss a beat before taking hold of your hand and lacing your fingers together, giving your gentle hand two squeezes. “I think.. you care a lot about her, and that’s completely fine. But it is not your job to dictate what she can or can not do. It’s okay to let her have her freedom and life, just like you deserve to have yours.”

You took a deep breath before pulling Lockwood into a hug, your arms surrounding his neck. Lockwood was startled for a second but didn’t have to think about it twice before wrapping his arms around your waist, letting you take the lead in this display of affection.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but.. um”

“You don’t have to say anything, come on,” He said, breaking the hug and taking your hand into his, pulling you forward to continue the walk you were on.

5- I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.

Lockwood looked down at your intertwined hands, thinking of things to say to get the fog of sadness blinding you out of the way. “So you’re a hopeless romantic, huh?

“What the fuck?”

Alright, so maybe this wasn’t his greatest icebreaker ever, but at least it was something. He chose to continue.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you always stare at every couple we walk past. It’s kind of adorable. Fittes’ heinous bitch being a hopeless romantic? Sign me the hell up.”

“You’re sick in the head, Anthony Lockwood.”

“I didn’t think of you as a hopeless romantic, like.. at all. But I assume this means you’re the type of person who wants flowers and love letters delivered to her doorstep. Right?”

“No.”

“Sure, love. I’ll keep this in mind for future references.”

Lockwood made sure to walk you back to Fittes’ building after spending the rest of his morning with you, choosing to take the weird looks his boots got with pride and a bright smile. Whenever someone stopped him in the street he’d answer with a happy “my best friend and this beautiful lady next to me gave them to me as a gift”.

You spent the rest of your day going back and forth through Fittes’ small yet numerous offices, talking to different people about your previous and next cases. Sometimes you’d stop to take a breather outside a door, but quickly remembered the importance of your role as a team leader, and snapped out of your seemingly neverending exhaustion.

“Am I dreaming or is that my best friend in the whole world?” You turned your head to the right to find Bobby Vernon smirking at you, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

“Fuck off, Vernon.”

“Woah, no need to get all pissy, love.” You clenched your shaking fists, trying to keep your anger in. You may have a short temper, but you would never let someone like him get the satisfaction of making you angry, or at least of noticing the effect his words have on you.

The thought of someone other than Lockwood calling you by that pet name made you want to burst into tears. How dare they see you as someone who’s weak? After everything you’ve done and fought for to get the role you have as an agent?

“I don’t have the time for your bullshit, so just spit it out and let me go home.” You said with an eye roll.

“Your sister wanted me to tell you that you got mail. Well, it’s more like a gift, I guess. I assume it’s from your parents because I can’t think of a single human being who genuinely likes you.”

You knew better than to take his words to heart, but the venom he said them with stung. You knew you were unlikeable, probably even unloveable at this point, but he didn’t have any right to say those words to your face. It made you feel disgusting, you had to fight back the urge to throw up.

“Yeah, alright. Have a good day, Vernon.” You replied as you walked past him and out into the street, calling for a cab to take you home.

The ride back home was silent, and it surprisingly made you miss Lockwood. It made you miss his stupid jokes, his ugly haircut, and his reckless way of driving your car. You were sure the poor guy didn’t know what a stop sign meant.

As soon as the cab driver got you home, you made sure to pay him and wish him a safe drive, after all, the curfew was 15 minutes away from starting. A sigh escaped your lips after opening your door and heading into your room. The day had left you completely worn out, and Bobby’s words didn’t help at all with the shit day you were having.

You quickly got changed and were about to head to bed when you noticed a package sitting in the corner of your room. A frown made its way to your face when your eyes caught the unfamiliar handwriting with your name on the box, curiosity taking the best of you as you opened the package with a delicate touch.

A gasp left your lips when you opened it and found the same bouquet of colorful flowers you saw the woman give to her partner at the café. A white envelope sat next to them.

With a small smile and shaking hands, you opened it and were greeted with Lockwood’s handwriting.

Hey, my love.

I’ll be really honest and say that my mind is completely blank as I write this, but I just wanted to let you know that right after I dropped you off, I went to Arif’s with George and heard a love song playing — I couldn’t help but think of your hopeless romantic self as soon as I heard these lyrics: You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.

Jesus, I know you’re having a field day reading this. Me? Embarrassing myself and sending you a bouquet and a love letter? You’re right, I must be extremely sick in the head.

Anyway, I hope you have a good day. You deserve it.

With lots of love,

Lockwood.

(PS: You don’t have to say it back! But I thought it felt right to say it since we’re kind of besties now.)

The tears you spent the entire day holding back decided to come out right after you finished reading the letter. Sobs escaped your lips as you sat down in your bed, the flowers and letter still in your hand. A strange feeling bubbled up inside you, you didn’t quite know what it meant, but decided to guess it was that disgusting sickening feeling Bobby left you with.

When you laid in bed and tried to go to sleep, you took notice of how different the feeling you were having right now was from the one you got with Bobby Vernon. Sure, this one made you want to throw up, too. But it also made you want to stare into Lockwood’s eyes again and to feel his arms wrapped around your waist for a few more seconds. You drifted to sleep with a craving of feeling Lockwood’s hand intertwined with yours for the rest of your life.

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #magnolia’s fics!

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turbulentscrawl · 4 months

Note

Since you asked for some angsty stuff...Hunters of your choice (can Fool's Gold and/or Ithaqua please be included if you have inspo for them🙏) accidentally fatally injuring their SOs during a match? Maybe they're sad/guilty and they expect their SOs to be fine after the match but then it turns out this death was permadeath/their SO is gone for good?

You…you wanna make those two guys MORE unstable? I like you ewe

Warnings: angst, very intense emotions, extreme violence, character death

Fool’s Gold

The relationship between Norton and Him was as odd as it was volatile, but they shared some deeper-than-understanding connection to one another. Which was why he’d been chosen to break the news to his alternate self, against all his protests. It wasn’t fair. Norton and Fool’s Gold were, at their cores, the same person with all the same desires. The same loves. Norton was hardly given a second to process your death himself and now he had to put himself in front of the broken mirror who’d done it.

‘Fool’s Gold’ stood in that crooked, stiff way of his while staring down Norton with a goading smile. It was just them in the garden—in the spot everyone knew the two of you would meet on full moons.

“Get lost,” Fool’s Gold croaks out. “You know this isn’t your place.”

“Yeah, well, it will have to be for right now,” Norton spits back, crossing his arms tight. It’s a poor comfort, a poor self-restraint. “I’ve got something to say to you.”

“Important enough to interrupt my date night,” He cackles. He rolls his neck, body rumbling and cracking as the coals of his torso shift. “Get on with it, then. Then get out of my wa—”

“They’re dead,” Norton says quickly. There’s no sense in delaying things. No amount of sugar coating will help calm the wrath Norton knows the amalgamation of all his worst parts is capable of conjuring. Fool’s Gold tilts his head a fraction. His grin wavers. “For good. We don’t know how or why. But that last match with you this week, when you…. You killed them for good.” Norton doesn’t try to hide the venom in his voice, but at least spares his counterpart a recounting of the gory details. Of how you suffered, burnt and broken.

“The fuck they are,” Fool’s Gold growls. “You think I’ve got rocks in my head, too? There’s no such thing as death here. Where are they? They’re mad about that hit, huh? I told them not to body block for that--”

“They’re dead!” Norton shouts. “You fucking killed them! They’re gone—for real, forever! The sooner you accept that, the sooner I can fuck off and go back to ignoring your worthless existence!”

Norton was suddenly dangling in the air by a crushing grip on his throat, having been drawn into Fool’s Gold’s rocky hand by the very polarity that had saved his life so many times before. But they shared that, too, and now he was stuck with that dead, enraged eye staring into his.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” Fool’s Gold roars, coughing and spitting all the way. Norton is wheezing too, both of them to quiver and suffocate with hurt carefully concealed under the blame and hatred for one another. “If anything…if anything, you’re hiding them. Think you’re so much better than me that you can steal the one good thing I got? I’ll crush you. I’ll CRUSH you. I’ll bring down that whole worthless fucking manor right to the ground and dig them out myself if I have to—WHERE ARE THEY!”

“It’s…your fault,” Norton chokes out with his last breaths, looking into his own murky eyes. “If you’d…n-never…existed—"

Fool’s Gold slams Norton’s body into the cobblestone like a ragdoll, rumbling the gardens and covering the grass with moonlit blood.

Ithaqua

He was not a man known for his patience—especially when it came to you. Ithaqua had been unbearable to all the other Hunters since your match with him, first enraged, then worried sick, it was completely pitiful. Somewhere between a kicked puppy and a snarling badger. Now, it was the survivor manor’s turn to be subjected to him.

Ithaqua paced in front of the Survivor manor, twitchy and impatient. Anyone who stepped foot outside was whipped into his clutches by a gust of wind and interrogated. He didn’t understand why they all had to make this so difficult. All he wanted was his lover. His other half. Why were these pitiful dolls denying him that?

“Bring them out here,” he’d growled at the squeaky little dancer. She got off the easiest, and that could have been the end of things, if she’d listened.

“Where are they?” he’d asked the psychologist, crushing her throat in a clawed hand while her pet beat at his stomach desperately. He’d let them go, too, because they reminded him of you and him in some pathetic way.

The third wasn’t so lucky. The batter had the nerve to claim you were dead. He was no fool, he knew that didn’t happen. He knew you were inside that stupid building, probably locked away by the rest of these survivor maggots out of some twisted sense of ‘protectiveness.’ Who did they think they were, to keep you two apart?

“You killed them,” the batter spat up at Ithaqua, who loomed over his crumpled body. “You beat them to death…like you’re doing to me now!” Ithaqua laughed maniacally. He’d hit you, sure, but only because you threw yourself in the way of the little blind girl. He’d told you before not to do that. That he didn’t want to hit you, that he couldn’t stop a swing in motion! But you did it anyway and took a detention-ed crack over the head. “They’re dead for good! They didn’t heal, they didn’t regenerate! We had to bury a corpse for the first time ever!!”

That gave Ithaqua some pause. Irrationally, impossibly…he didn’t hear lies in the bleeding man’s words. Something inside Ithaqua snapped with the realization, the thought that you might well and truly be gone. Without word or smile, he raised his axe and brought it down on this survivor’s head. He splattered open like a pinched grape.

It made no sense for true death to happen now of all times. To you of all people. If it were real, though, then there was a reason. Something was waiting beyond this cage. You were waiting, alone.

And Ithaqua would send everyone to meet you there, himself included.

Antonio

Antonio had brought flowers for you, but it was Alva and Michiko waiting for him at your tea party spot in the gardens. They were his friends, but their expressions did not bode well for this visit.

“What’s happened?” he asks, without preamble. “Have they refused to see me?” In your previous match, one in which he was the Hunter, he had killed you. Quite brutally, in fact, though everyone knew by now that whatever happened in matches was not by his choice. It was the reason he’d gathered a bouquet for your meeting today. He wanted to beg forgiveness.

“I’m afraid it’s something else, friend,” Alva says. “Would you sit with us?” he gestures to a seat at the garden table. It’s your chair, the one with a little bow tied to the armrest.

“If it’s all the same, I think I’d rather stand. But if this is not in regards to my love, what is it?” He couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach, despite the small reassurance that you weren’t ignoring him.

“I received some concerning news in my last match,” Michiko spoke. She finally met Antonio’s gaze, and he realized, finally, how exhausted she looked. Like she hadn’t slept in days. “It seems there’s been a change to the rules of the manor. Or perhaps…an exception.”

“Lady Michiko has been punished for nonparticipation,” Alva took over, having noticed Antonio’s focus. “She’s been plagued by night terrors for throwing her most recent match.”

“Why would you do such a thing? What change of rules could have compelled you to take such torture?” Antonio wonders aloud. He creeps closer to his friends, setting your flowers at your seat.

“The survivors were terrified they’d be dead for good if I killed them. They had…proof. I would not be the one to test the theory,” Michiko said. Antonio opened his mouth to question again, but Michiko’s stare cut him off. She gazed deep into his soul, or where it would be if he had one, and he understood. His throat suddenly felt as if there was a stone lodged in it. He fought against his stitched smile with all his might.

“They…?”

“They are gone, Antonio,” Alva said. “I am truly sorry.”

Antonio felt his thins legs quivering beneath him, and suddenly he was in your chair, having fallen into the seat Michiko slid underneath him. He touched the armrests, wishing your hands were there to hold instead. Alva placed a hand on his shoulder and offered a handkerchief with the other.

“You should get away from me,” Antonio told them. He felt his body slipping with his sanity. A dark hole was underfoot, opening to swallow his entire, grief-broken being. He didn’t think he could ever recover from this. His everything was gone, his life, his love, and now the light itself was being swallowed by a devil’s shadow. He knew Michiko was over his shoulder, ready with her knife.

“Let us worry about that, friend,” Alva said. “We’ll be here for you, one way or another.”

Maybe, Antonio thought, he’d get lucky in the coming struggle and be killed for good himself.

#idv x reader #identity v #fools gold x reader #antonio paganini x reader #ithaqua x reader #idv night watch #idv fool's gold #idv violinist #norton campbell x reader #if you squint

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dreamescapeswriting · 11 months

Text

Wish You Were Sober ~ HHJ

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

GENRE: non!idol au, drunken confessions, the morning after, fluffy, cute, clingy and adorable hyunjin,

PAIRING: hyunjin x fem!reader

⤜MASTERLIST

Watching from the safety of your car you watched as Chan struggled to get Hyunjin out of the club and over to your car as Hyunjin dramatically yelled that he wasn't done for the night.

"WE NEED TO PARTY MORE!" He screamed louder than you'd ever heard Hyunjin acting before, you smirked to yourself as you slowly got out of the car and shook your head. The boys were out celebrating tonight because they were getting to graduate early and they wanted to have a big party before they had to go into the "real world". Hyunjin - who was your roommate for the last four years - seemed to be the most excited to go on this night out as it had been the first time he'd let himself enjoy his time out. Mostly he would spend his time studying or in extra classes doing his best to stay focussed on what was most important to him.

"I think you've had more than enough," You told Hyunjin while giggling and making your way over to him, wrapping one of his arms over your shoulder and helping Chan get Hyunjin toward your car.

"Yn?! You're here! Let's go and have a drink!" Hyunjin yelled in your ear, you put the yelling down to the pounding music that was blasting from inside the club and you laughed a little.

"I don't think they'll let me in. I'm in my ugly PJs tonight Hyunjinnie," You cooed a little as Hyunjin finally reached your car, leaning against the door and looking you up and down as his tongue slowly ran along his bottom lip. A simple action that made your entire body burn with desire as soon as it happened, that was the thing between you and Hyunjin.

The two of you were roommates but you also had the biggest crush on him in the world, you figured it would eventually disappear and you'd just feel friendly toward your roommate but that time never came.

"Nothing you wear is ugly. Nothing," Hyunjin slurred a little on his words but you smiled warmly at him, opening the car door before helping him sit on the passenger seat.

"That's sweet of you but-" You tried to speak but before you could even finish your sentence Hyunjin was shaking his head at you and turning to face Chan who was doing his best to hold back his laughter.

"It's true. Isn't it true Hyung?! Don't I tell you how beautiful Yn is?!" Your whole body was burning at the sudden attention that you were getting from Hyunjin. It was true, Chan knew that Hyunjin had the biggest crush on you which was half of the reason he had called for you to come and collect him rather than a taxi. He'd hoped that in Hyunjin's drunken state, he would somehow manage to let it slip that he was madly in love with you and neither of you would tip-toe around your feelings anymore.

"Hyunjin, you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying." You didn't know if you were trying to convince yourself or him at this point but you couldn't take the compliments. Even when he would compliment you when he was sober you found it hard to accept them or even listen to them. Maybe it was because you found him completely and utterly breathtaking and couldn't possibly believe he would think the same way about you but it was hard for you to accept his compliments.

"Yes, I do. Hyung! Tell her," Hyunjin whined ever so slightly, fidgeting in his seat like a toddler who couldn't get his own way.

"He does compliment you fairly often," Chan smirks as he gets into the back of the car, leaving you to get into the driver's side as you bit down on your lip. As soon as you sat down and did your seatbelt up Hyunjin took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you to look in his direction,

"Exactly, I find you irresistible." Hyunjin laughed a little, looking at you with hunger in his eyes while your whole body burnt as you slowly started up the car. It was going to be one long car journey if this was how Hyunjin was planning on spending his time with you.

The car ride had been painfully slow between all of the flirtatious remarks that were being spat in your direction, along with the small touches that Hyunjin was giving to you. It started with holding your hand and then his hand would casually fall onto your thigh as he slowly rubbed circles into the fabric of your PJs.

"You're upset with me," Hyunjin pouted as you tucked him into his bed, smiling weakly as you brushed his hair out of his face and shook your head at him. There was no way you could ever be upset with him, you were just doing your best to bite back all of the feelings tonight was bringing up for you.

"No, I'm not." You shook your head at him, you smiled weakly a little though and it still didn't do much to convince Hyunjin that you weren't mad at him.

"You are. You're upset and I demand to know why." He cried out as he sat up straight, staring at you as he waited for you to say something.

"You demand?" You laughed weakly, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at him as he nodded his head at you, placing his hands on his hips as he smirked.

"Yes."

"Sorry, My king." You called out dramatically while doing half a bow but Hyunjin turned your head up to look at him, he didn't want this to be some kind of joke. If he'd done something to upset you he wanted to know what it was so he could make sure never to do it again in the future.

"Did I do something wrong? Is it because I've been complimenting you...Because everything I said is true." He said slowly, running his thumb along your skin as you shook your head doing your best to get his hands off you.

"Hyunjin, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying." You laughed weakly, you didn't want to put too much thought into how he was acting right now in case all of this was just him being lonely and drunk.

"Would a drunk person tell the girl he's been madly in love with for four years that he'd been madly in love with her?" You frowned at him, he'd never told you he loved someone before. As far as you knew Hyunjin had been far too busy focusing on his studies to even think of someone romantically,

"You love someone? Who?" There was a sudden pang of jealousy spreading through you as you thought of Hyunjin with another girl and you hated yourself for it. Hyunjin wasn't yours but you didn't want him to have anyone else.

"You." You groaned and shoved him back to laying down, shaking your head at him as you scoffed a little.

"See, you're drunk. You have no idea what you're saying." You pulled a blanket from the bottom of the bed and laid it over the top of the duvet.

"I know exactly what I'm saying. I just hate that it's taken me four years and a whoooollleeeee lot of alcohol for me to ever be able to say anything to you." He mumbled sadly but you shook your head at him and tucked him back into the bed.

"We'll talk in the morning IF you remember." You tapped his nose softly but he took your hand in his and shook his head,

"We WILL talk in the morning." He smirked at you, quickly kissing your cheek as you bent down to give him a hug, your whole body aflame as you left his room for the night.

In fact, the next morning he remembered and while he had been embarrassed about the way his feelings had come out he wasn't upset that he'd finally told you the truth. It had been years and he'd gotten sick of holding back the secret, every day he'd wanted to tell you the truth.

"Hyunjin? I thought you'd be too hungover for food." You laughed awkwardly not knowing what he did and didn't remember from the night before and you weren't sure how to act around him right now.

"I wanted to make breakfast as an "I'm sorry" for last night," Your heart plunged to the floor as you thought about it. He must have remembered and instantly regret everything he'd told you.

"Oh...O-Oh, right. Yeah," You scratched the back of your neck and shook your head trying your best to come up with some lie to get you out of there as quickly as humanly possible.

"I'm not hungry. I promised Minho I'd go and help him pack." It was a lie, you knew it and Hyunjin knew it since Minho would never let anyone else help him.

"Yn," Hyunin called out as you backed out of the room, you did your best to be quicker than Hyunjin but he trapped your body between him and the wall of the living room.

"I meant every word I said to you last night. Every...Single...word. I love you," He ran his hand over your cheek as he cupped your face in his embrace, your face burning up against his touch.

"I love you too." You whispered, swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in your throat and he smirked at you, he enjoyed watching your squirm because of him.

"The breakfast is the apology for the way the feelings had come out. I should have been confident enough to come to you while I was sober,"

"I wish you were sober last night, I would have confessed too." You giggled a little as he winked at you,

"It's not too late to confess now," He wiggled his eyebrows as he snaked his arm around your waist and began to lead you back to the kitchen so that the two of you could talk some more about everything.

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#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin imagines

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