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burntheedges · 2 months

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Maintenance Request Chapter 18

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.3k

chapter summary: Back to work (and all the promises you and Joel made on that phone call).

a/n: thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 posting a bit early today for secret reasons 👀 check back at 11 for more 👀

chapter tags/warnings: flirting, banter, fluff, cursing, food and drink mention, pet names (honey, gorgeous, darlin’, baby, sweetheart, good girl, handsome, cowboy), reader can wink (author cannot lmao), semi-public sex, kissing, oral (m!receiving), dirty talk, fingering (f!receiving), reader straddles Joel's lap

Chapter 18

Monday, November 4 Eleventh week of the semester

On Monday, you were almost vibrating on your way into work.

You’d talked to Joel again on Sunday, but all that had done was get you keyed up for your impending reunion. You couldn’t stop thinking about his promises – his hands, his cock, and everything else – and your office. You knew actually doing anything there was risky, but the idea had consumed you since your call on Saturday night.

As you walked across the quad to your building, your phone vibrated in your pocket, surprising you.

Joel (8:53 AM): See you soon, gorgeous.

You smiled. You were pretty sure he was in the same boat as you, drowning in anticipation.

you (8:54 AM): can’t wait 💕

Perhaps as a favor to you, the morning actually flew by. Before you knew it you were pacing awkwardly in front of your desk again as you waited for Joel to knock on your door.

You couldn’t get your mind off the images he’d put there, wondering if you would rush to come together as soon as the door opened, or actually manage to eat lunch first.

And then he knocked.

At your call to come in, Joel stepped into your office and then froze. For a moment the two of you only stared at each other. He looked good. Rather than the typical flannel, he was wearing a navy blue button up that made his shoulders look even broader than normal. Your eyes traced them, lingering, before darting back up to meet his gaze.

You managed a strangled, “hi,” and it seemed to kickstart Joel into action. He took a swift step inside before turning and locking the door behind him.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” his voice rumbled out of him, register low and smooth, as he turned back to face you. His whole body looked tense.

You were both still, staring at each other, and then very suddenly, you weren’t.

“Fuck,” the expletive fell from Joel’s lips like prayer. He took two large steps towards you and before you knew it you were in his arms, pressed back against your desk. “I missed you so goddamn much, honey.” His arms had snaked around your back and tightened, pulling you in close to his chest. You buried your fingers in his hair as he gently pressed his forehead against yours. Drawing in a deep breath, you replied, “missed you too, Joel.”

“Been thinkin’ about this since Friday, honey.” And with no further prompting, Joel leaned to press his lips to yours.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the night before, you’d wondered if you should be worried how much you craved this. Craved his lips against your own, his arms around your body, the tease of his tongue against your bottom lip.

Feeling it all again, you decided you’d be a fool not to crave it.

You opened your mouth to his kiss and together you skipped right over slow and gentle. It was hot and intense and everything you’d wanted for days.

“Joel–” you moaned, and he shushed you as he pressed kisses down your neck. “Shhh, honey, let me take care of you.” That sounded heavenly, but it also reminded you of exactly how you wanted this to go. You shook your head slowly to clear it as he worried a new mark at your collarbone, replacing the ones that had faded.

“That’s not what–” you sighed. “You know what I want, Joel.”

To your absolute delight, you felt him shiver in response. He dropped his forehead to rest against your shoulder. “Yeah?” You could hear how much he liked the idea.

“Yes, Joel. Sit down.” He shivered again and you smiled, nudging him gently backwards until he fell into one of the armchairs in front of your desk.

He looked up at you with dark eyes. You took a step forward and, eyes locked on his, sank slowly to your knees. He swallowed, hard.

“Been thinking about this,” you murmured, reaching forward to undo the button of his jeans. His hands came to rest on the arms of the chair and he dug his fingers in until the tips turned white.

“Darlin’, you got no idea how much I’ve been thinkin’ about this,” he replied, lifting his hips to give you room to pull down his jeans. You could see his hard cock straining against the front of his briefs.

You licked your bottom lip as you looked at it, and you heard Joel’s breath catch. You grinned.

“Can I kiss you, handsome?” you winked at him as you called back your first night together, and he laughed, breathless.

“Honey, you can kiss me wherever you’d like. Consider it an open invitation.” He picked up his right hand and gently, so gently it made your breath catch, trailed his fingertips across your cheek. You turned to press a kiss to them and he grinned. “Just like that.”

You laughed and kissed his fingers again. He moved his hand back to cup the back of your neck and tug you forward, and you grinned as you allowed it.

“Eager, hmm?” You teased him as you slid your hands up his thighs, reveling in the muscle you could feel flexing under your fingertips. You moved forwards until you were right between his thighs, hands resting on his briefs. You looked up to meet his eyes before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against his cock, still covered and bulging under black fabric. You watched as his eyelids fluttered but didn’t close.

“Fuck, honey, ‘course I am,” he groaned. You grinned and tucked your fingers under the waistband of his briefs, lifting them over the head of his cock. As soon as you revealed it, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to the head, already red and swollen. You let your tongue slip out to press against the tip where a tiny bead of precome was waiting for you. Joel groaned out your name.

“Please, baby, just like that. Let me see that pretty mouth on my cock.” He sucked in a breath as you tugged his briefs down, letting his cock spring free. “Been dreamin’ about your mouth, ever since you told me you wanted this.”

With his left hand Joel tugged up the hem of his shirt, giving you plenty of room to work. You placed your own left hand on his hip and used your right to grip the base of his cock, bringing the head up to your lips. You locked eyes with him as you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue.

“Look at you,” he sounded breathless. “That’s my good girl. Let me see my cock on your tongue, baby.”

You pulled on his cock with your right hand, gliding your fist upwards as you let the head come to rest on your tongue. The salty, smooth taste of him almost made you moan. For a moment you stayed there, eyes locked on Joel’s as he stared back at you. And then you smirked, as much as you could like that, and you watched Joel’s eyes roll backwards as you closed your mouth around the head of his cock.

The taste of him and the stretch of your mouth around him were delicious. Your own eyes fell closed as you took him deeper into your mouth. You teased along the bottom of his cock with your tongue, wetting his soft skin, and you felt his grip tighten on the back of your neck in response.

“Fuck, baby, you–” he trailed off on a sigh as you started to move your hand, working in the same rhythm as your mouth. You hummed, loving the effect you were having on this man who could so easily reduce you to a quivering mess with just his voice. You felt more than heard him take a deep breath. “Look at you, honey.” His voice was deeper, rougher than you’d ever heard it. You felt its effect starting to pool in your underwear. You looked up as you moved your mouth down, deeper this time, teasing the head of his cock towards the back of your throat. Joel’s mouth was hanging open and he was panting as he watched you. The hand not wrapped around your neck was grasping at the arm of his chair.

As you slid the head of his cock out of your mouth, you flattened your tongue along the underside and made a show of the tip resting there before taking him in again.

Joel grunted as his hips thrust forward. “Shit, sorry, honey–” You cut him off with a firm grip to his hip. He blinked at you as you tugged his hip. “No, baby, I’m too big, I–”

You sucked in a breath as you pulled off of his cock. “I want you to, Joel. I can do it.”

He slowly let go of the arm of the chair and moved his hand to grip your chin. He rubbed his thumb along your bottom lip before using his grip to pull your mouth open. He grinned, slow and wicked, and stood slowly from the chair. You rose up on your knees to follow him.

“‘Course you can. You are my good girl, right?” You nodded, mouth open in his hand. “Well, I did tell you, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

As the words left his mouth he thrusted his hips forward, guiding his cock into your open mouth. You let your jaw relax and welcomed him in.

Soon you found your rhythm again, letting his cock slide in and out of your mouth on his shallow thrusts, your hand joining in and squeezing him at the root. You moaned and you felt Joel shudder in response. Every stroke sent spikes of sensation into your core, shooting down your spine.

“Knew you could take it like this, honey.” Joel thrust just a little bit deeper on his next stroke and you both moaned. “Can’t believe this pretty little mouth is all mine. So perfect for me, just perfect on my cock, baby.”

You tightened your grip around his cock and felt him suck in a breath in response. “Shit,” he breathed, eyes wide. “Fuck, that’s so fuckin’ good.” You rubbed your thighs together, loving how obviously affected he was by what you were doing. As you moved your mouth over him again, you sucked lightly and almost smiled, as much as you could, at the moan he gave you in response.

Joel smoothed his thumb gently under your eye, prompting you to look up and meet his gaze. He held your gaze with his own as he moaned on his next thrust. You realized you’d let your hand fall slack, and you tightened it again, moving it in time with your tongue and his thrusts. His hips stuttered in response.

“Fuck, honey, I’m close. Where do you– where should I–” You closed your grip on his hip again and tugged him forwards. “Inside?” You hummed, closing your eyes, and he groaned.

His hips somehow thrust even faster, and you tried to keep up with your hand and your tongue and your mouth. When you heard him start to say your name, you pushed against his grip and took him even deeper, letting the tip of his cock kiss the back of your throat. You hollowed your mouth around him and sucked.

Joel came, hard.

“Fuck, fuck. That’s– fuck.” You felt him come down the back of your throat and you swallowed, just in time. His body curled over you and you felt him brace himself against the edge of the desk behind you with his free hand. After a moment he used his grip on your neck to ease you backwards and you realized your own chest was heaving. Your eyes fluttered open and you met his gaze – he looked wrecked, and you were sure you did, too.

After a moment of simply gazing at each other Joel tugged you forward again, sinking back into the chair and guiding you to follow. Fighting against your loose limbs, you moved where he pulled you, settling into his lap. Joel immediately let his forehead drop to rest against your chest, pressing a gentle kiss to your shirt. You smiled.

On his next exhale, he murmured, “that was so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. Fuck.” You grinned.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, honey. Fuck. Your fuckin’ mouth.” He sounded awestruck, and it made you laugh, a little stunned.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, moving his hand around to cup you. “Don’t think I forgot about you, though.”

“Joel–”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Let me take care of you, now.” With no hesitation, Joel slipped his fingers into your pants, seeking your core. As his fingertips brushed against your slit he chuckled.

“You are soaked, honey. S’this all for me?” You nodded, hiding your face in his neck. “No, no hidin’, baby.” He gently pushed you backwards with his left hand until he could catch your gaze. You felt your cheeks burning. “No reason to hide. Ain’t nothin’ better than knowin’ this pussy is wet for me.” You whined in response, and he grinned. “That’s right, honey. It is all for me.”

Joel pulled you into a searing kiss as two of his fingers slipped inside of you, surprising you into a moan. He swallowed it down and curled his fingers on the next thrust. As his fingers found their rhythm inside of you, his tongue danced along your bottom lip and you opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss.

You started to thrust your hips forward, and Joel responded by tucking his thumb up against your clit, gently moving in circles around it in time with your hips.

Your next inhale sounded like a sob.

Joel broke away and soothed you with his free hand, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Shhh, honey, let me help you,” he murmured, pressing kisses down your neck. “That’s my good girl, right? Letting me take care of you.”

“So fucking good, Joel,” you managed to sigh out, and you felt him smile against your neck.

“That’s what we are together, baby. So fucking good.” You smiled and nodded.

You felt your orgasm starting to draw down your spine. You swayed a little in his lap and he steadied you with an arm around your waist.

“Let me see it, gorgeous,” he sucked a mark onto your shoulder, just to the side of your neck. “Let me see how you come. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, honey, let me see it again. So fucking gorgeous when you come for me, baby.” Joel bit down on your neck, and you felt the wave come rushing back towards you, cresting up your spine and whiting out everything around you.

You might have moaned his name as you came, but you couldn’t be sure. You must have said something because you came back to yourself and realized his hand was clamped over your mouth. You blinked.

“You got a little loud there at the end, sweetheart.” You could hear his smile in his voice. You blinked again and realized you were still in your fucking office.

He must have felt you stiffen at the realization because he pulled back to look at you and grinned. “Yeah, honey, still here.” You shook your head and groaned.

You sank down against him and he pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace. You both just breathed each other in, resting against each other as you came down.

“Can’t believe I forgot where we were,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“S’alright, honey, I almost did, too. Was pretty close to forgetting my own name when your mouth was on my cock.”

You pressed a kiss to his neck and smiled. “I know we can’t do this everyday, Joel, but damn.”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’d definitely get sloppy and get caught, probably.”

You snorted, and managed, “already pretty sloppy over here, cowboy.” He huffed a laugh and squeezed one of your ass cheeks in his palm.

“That’s the way I like it.”

You nuzzled your nose into his neck, and let yourself relax into his embrace. For a moment, neither of you moved, but you could almost feel Joel thinking hard about something. You nudged him gently, encouraging him.

“Sarah told me I couldn’t stop talking about you and it was embarrassin’, this weekend.” You blinked at the apparent non sequitur. “I didn’t tell her that if it were my choice, I’d have talked about you even more. I was tonin’ it down.”

You laughed. “You have that much to say about me, hmm?”

He tilted his head down and nudged his forehead against yours. “Course I do, sweetheart.” He paused, but it didn’t seem like he was finished.

“What?” He sighed. “Joel, what is it?”

A knock at the door interrupted and startled you both. You shoved yourself to a standing position and quickly pulled your clothes into position, smoothing them into place. You eyed Joel to make sure he was decent. He nodded, but reached out to fiddle with your collar for a moment before sitting in one of the chairs in front of your desk. You took a deep breath before opening the door.

To your displeasure, Trevor was standing on the other side.

“Oh, hi Trevor,” you could hear the irritation in your voice and tried to tamp it down. “What did you need?”

He eyed you, and then looked past you. The sight of Joel apparently surprised him because his eyebrows rose and he took a step back. Then his face twisted into his familiar scowl.

“Another maintenance request? What have you been doing to your office?”

You sighed and tried not to roll your eyes. “We’re just having lunch, Trevor. If you don't need anything I’ll see you at the meeting in a few minutes.”

For a moment he didn’t move, gaze bouncing back and forth between you and Joel.

“Er, no. Not as such. I’ll see you there. Don’t be late.” As always his tone grated against your nerves, and after you’d closed the door again you locked it and gave in to the desire to roll your eyes.

You turned around to find Joel grinning at you.

“What?” You studied him, confused.

“Sarah told me about your nickname for him.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks again and you sighed.

“Sorry, I–”

“No, darlin’, I like it. It was funny. You can’t do worse than Tommy with the swearin’, anyway, and besides,” he shrugged. “He really is a prick.”

You laughed and shook your head. You stepped closer to Joel again and rested your hands on his shoulders as his own came to grasp your hips.

“What did you want to tell me?” you asked, recalling his hesitation from a moment before.

Joel cleared his throat, looking up at you. “Um, right. I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but I have to tell you – this weekend, when my family asked about you. I called you my girlfriend without thinking about it. Is that– um, is that alright?”

You grinned at him. “Joel, that is more than alright.” You leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away to catch his eye again.

“As long as I can call you my boyfriend.” Joel grinned so wide you watched the crinkles form and deepen in the corners of his eyes.

“Well I do like the sound of that, sweetheart,” he murmured as he pulled you down for another kiss.

…

you (5:32 PM): so uh (5:33 PM): you know how I said I wouldn’t have sex in my office

bestie (5:34 PM): no FUCKING way (5:35 PM): I am calling you in 30 seconds and if you don’t answer I am driving to your apartment (5:35 PM): !!!

you (5:36 PM): 🙄

...

a/n: it's official! and so is the office sex. lmao see you next Friday!

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#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

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dawnoftime22 · 3 months

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make it okay.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 6

Chapter Warnings: Some subjects that you can kind of count as sensitive? Not getting enough sleep, Overthinking, Mental exhaustion, cheating, sad wanda and...I think, that's it. (please tell me if I'm missing any!)

Summary: With having finished a breakup with a cheating brunette, you go to visit Kate in New York, needing a best friend to keep you company in these trying times of yours.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 5.1k

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst

A/N: I'm veeeeery tired. very. need a hug. past few days was just :( also this chapter is mostly just kate giving comfort. sorry if I wrote her in a way thats off from her? I rarely write her character, but it was definitely fun, along with lucky. enjoy :]

Series Playlist

| Started on 05/03/2024, 3:49 PM |

| Finished on 18/03/2034, 6:53 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 5 Chapter 7 ->

"Having a soft and kind heart is a dangerous way of staying alive, sure. But I don't understand being cold and cruel when most of the world already is."

|——————————— ➳ ———————————|

After getting off the phone with Kate, you clicked on your seatbelt and put the car on drive, off to get out the side road. Before you do, you took one last look at the café and the flower shop. All that time spent, and for what, exactly?

You sigh. The wheel turns with your hand and you continue on driving, starting your journey to the airport. It wasn't a perfect day. Well, obviously, but the weather isn't perfect either. The sun shone down on you, burning up everything in its view outside while you pulled down the sun visor and turned the ac up.

It's hard not to get lost in thought as you made your way to the airport, your mind walking back to every memory, and every question you have unanswered. Is this how you're always gonna feel? Maybe so. Maybe not. But what were you supposed to do about it?

Nearly every scenery of this town that once had your heart beating of affection now doesn't even make it pulse at all. It stings, even dead, like the flower that was around it, grew thorns. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the road.

Being in the love blackout already had you overthinking every little thing and wondering what exactly you've done wrong for Wanda to act so different, but it wasn't really you. It was her. Though, even with finding out about the new information, it didn't make things better. Of course, only worse.

Was it something you didn't do? Was it something you did? Or perhaps just a simple fall out of love. You should've known. Should've seen the signs. You didn't even want to think about it, but you can't help it. Did she leave her house in the middle of the night only for you to welcome her home? Did she gift someone else something while you got her flowers? Was she kissing another's lips while you sat there in the corner of the café, waiting for her?

You hear your phone making noise with notifications, one after another. You know it's Wanda, and your fingers twitch to reach out and grab it, but you don't pick up. Instead, you quickly put your hand out to silence your phone. If you didn't, or if you took any action that was opposite of that, you'd have turned the car around already.

You notice your vision getting blurry with tears, but you blink them away, needing to focus on the road ahead. You sigh when you stop at a red light, having time to wipe your eyes with your hands. The frustration only fueled your way forwards.

Getting drunk on New Year's Day, that was all just a ruse. Who knows if that wine was even hers that she bought. Maybe it was given by another. You would rest your head on your steering wheel by now in utter exhaustion and willingness to surrender to the unavoiding pit of pure darkness if you didn't have to keep your eyes on the road.

Another thought that distracted you from everything, was if you should call Carol. She'd probably wonder where you've gone and worry. But you decided you'll call her later.

An hour or two passes by and eventually the wheels of your car rolls up to the front entrance of the airport, the scattered crowds of people carrying luggages and trolleys making it a stark contrast from crowds outside of the airport.

Your eyes don't linger for too long, but your ears undeniably catch the PA announcer speaking, although New York was only mentioned once and it wasn't your flight. You continue on driving, getting through the many other cars sitting at the pickup site to go down to the basement, where the parking lot is.

It was packed, but not entirely. Passing by, you see shiny fresh cars, normal looking cars, and old dusty abandoned ones left by someone for some type of reason. You hoped your car doesn't end up like that, but you had no reason to let it sit in a parking lot for years. Soon, you found a small empty corner to slot your car into, easily going in.

The engine shuts down with the touch of your fingers and you get out, grabbing your bags and going over to the two-door entrance where the elevator was. Some people were there, but you try your best to simply stand and wait. Lucky you went in right as the elevator was about to arrive to the floor.

The airport lights were bright and blinding when the elevator doors open, making you squint your eyes and blink, but also remembering to step out and go over to the register section, grabbing your ticket.

Seeing as you got here early, your flight wasn't until an hour later, so you decide to roam the airport to get some breakfast first. Outside held plenty of restaurants and cafés though, so you went there.

You grabbed some breakfast from a café that caught your eyes, and sat down at the bench outside. It was pretty empty here, since most people were either at the entrance or the other side of the airport-- there, holding the more popular restaurants.

You were just about to grab your meal and take a bite after getting some liquid in your body when you feel a drop of water land on the skin of your hand.

Confused, your eyebrows furrowed as you look closer at it, the water rolling down your hand when you tilted it. You looked around to find nothing. Then the skies started to grow darker, the sun getting covered up by the clouds.

The rain came pouring down quickly after building up, making everyone else scramble to the entrance of the airport, it having a roof.

Meanwhile, a stranger somewhere at the parking lots was just stepping out their car when the rain came down. They go back in urgently, but only to grab an umbrella.

You were standing up from the bench and covering your head with your arms, about to do the same as most of the other people were doing. Running to shelter. Then, suddenly the raindrops on you stop.

Feeling the rain disappear, you slowly put down your arms and see a redhead beside you, holding an umbrella above the two of you to shield from the rain.

She didn't look at you for long, having turned her head to the airport entrance. Not wanting to get left behind, although you were sure you won't considering she had put the umbrella over you, you still quickly walk with her.

"Thank you," you say, chuckling a little as the coolness of the airport hits you combined with the rain drops on you, sending a shiver down your spine. You shove your hands in your pockets as she closes the umbrella.

"Of course." She said gently, her voice husky as she nods. Afterwards, nothing much happened. She had walked away, nearly in a hurry with her eyes focused on the big flight screen in the middle of the airport, but it wasn't entirely obvious unless you were staring closely at her. You guessed she was either late for her flight or was just trying to get to her area fast. A kind encounter with a stranger...at least there's one good thing for today.

You check the screen yourself, and your eyes searched for your own journey. When you didn't find it, you searched more panickly, until you restart from the top and it pops up. But it wasn't in its original place. Then, you go off to the side and see a bright red text gleaming with the word, 'DELAYED'.

Great. Now you have to wait longer. A bad thing right after the good thing. You sigh, but make your way to the sitting area anyway, going through security with ease.

Once you've gone to the section your plane would arrive...in a few hours. You sat down, sliding your phone out from your pocket and pulling up your direct messages with Kate, telling her you'll be late because of your flight.

After an hour passed of you being bored, scrolling on your phone and opening an app only to close it, mixed with overthinking while resting your head on your folded arms, a message finally pops up, and your fingers quickly tap on it.

Kate replied back with some film recommendations and videos of Lucky doing tricks and getting excited at the mention of your name, making you smile.

You guessed she was driving when you messaged her, but you didn't mind it, and watch the things she sent you.

It keeps you occupied for a long while, up until you forgot about time, but the sound of your plane arriving quickly reminded you.

You look up to the large windows at the side that showed the huge parking area of the airplanes. There were small cars along with someone holding red sticks to direct the plane.

Many eyes in the large room was watching everything go by, the vehicle holding all the passenger luggages, the people from that flight getting out. You guessed they were clearing it out and starting to clean up.

The other eyes in the room weren't even looking at all, focused on their phones, laptops, or simply their eyelids were closed in sleep. Most of them had probably been in an airport plenty of times to not be mesmerized by the movements and sound. Or doing work...or is simply tired.

You had enough time to finish up your movie before your plane was ready to board, making you gather your things and stand up, having finished your breakfast hours ago.

It didn't take much time to get in, easily going through the little portable hallway connected to the plane and letting the attendant check your ticket.

After finding your seat, you store your things in the compartment above, then settle down, buckling in the seatbelt. The seat beside you was empty up until a few minutes later, someone sitting in it. They did the same movements as you, but rather than watching the view out the window, they bring out a book, placing it in their lap as the plane started moving, having made sure everyone settled down and was seated.

You put on some music on your earphones and got ready for the journey ahead. It was only two hours to New York from where you were, but still you hoped it'll feel short. Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way.

|——————————— ➳ ———————————|

The plane soon landed once more, the turbulance actually smoother than most of the other ones you've gone through. The person beside you on the other hand, put the book they were reading down and grabbed onto their armchair.

You didn't pay much attention to it, more mesmerized by the tall buildings you can already see in the distance. You've been here plenty of times before to visit Kate, but the view was still stunning.

After the plane settled in its parking spot completely, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get up, just as everyone else, grabbing your bag and walking out.

A text to Kate was sent of your arrival. The walk felt longer than the flight as you made your way through security and up to the pickup site, where she was already waiting, your eyes quickly catching the familiar sight of the car and license plate.

You load the empty trunk of the car with your bags, then walk back to the front. The door opens with the pull of your hand, inside revealing the raven haired girl looking over to you with a gentle smile as you went in.

"Hey," She greeted, her voice soft and lightly pitched as she started moving the car out the side, both to get you two home and let the other cars pick someone else up.

"Hi. Sorry for being late," You say as you set your handheld bag down, buckling in your seatbelt as Kate's eyes flicker to you for a moment before focusing on the road again.

"Don't worry. It was pouring here." She goes to make a turn, getting out of the airport area and into the main road.

"I'm just glad you're safe," She says. A smile tugs up on the corners of your lips, your heart warming. Kate was always a caring, lighthearted and comforting person. No wonder you've been feeling so low...other than for obvious reasons. Calls and messages are never enough to capture the blanket feeling of being beside someone like that.

On the way, Kate asks a few questions and jokes here and there, catching up with you. There was a conversation needed to be talked about for sure, but she knows to save it for later, when you get more comfortable.

The rest of the journey to Kate's place was quiet, the silence only filled with the humming of the car and the music she put on. Your eyes watch the modern city buildings pass by. The sidewalks and roads were shining with the sheen of water, the rain having met it earlier.

It was only 4 pm, but you had a sort of sleepiness creeping up on you, perhaps from the mental, emotional and physical exhaustion mixed together. Kate notices, seeing how your eyes were too relaxed to count as just being calm. But she doesn't say anything, knowing you still wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

The car comes to a stop, making you snap out of being zoned out. Kate was gathering her things and turning off the engine of the car, moving to get out. Then you realize you had arrived at her apartment.

Your eyes go over the building as you got out the car, slamming the door closed...accidentally. Your eyes widen slightly and you grimace, looking at Kate, who had her mouth open in an O shape.

"Someone's really angry," she jokes, grabbing a plastic bag from the backseat. You gave a tight-lipped smile and went to the back of the car.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," you quickly spew out your apology. The first hour you were with your best friend again, and you slam her car door. You grabbed your bags that were safely sitting in the trunk as she made her way to you.

"It's alright," she laughs, stepping in front of you while you slung your backpack over your shoulder. She held out a pack of dog treats to you while her other hand still held the plastic bag of groceries.

"Here." She puts out her hand further when you didn't take it, thinking you hadn't noticed. Then you look down and see what it is, your eyebrows furrowing in thought within your dazed mind.

You gasp when you realize it. "I get to feed Lucky?" You ask, your face brightening as you look back up at her. She nods, a smile on her face. You quietly cheer as she made her way to her apartment, her keys rattling in her hand as you followed behind her.

The door opens with a click, and instantly, you hear the sounds of a gentle bark and running coming from Lucky, having arrived at the front door quickly to meet the two of you.

"Hey, buddy." Kate holds the door with her body, leaning down slightly to card her fingers through Lucky's fur.

"Look. Look, it's Y/N." She points to you, making the golden dog run to you, jumping as he went. You smile and kneel down, greeting him as he started licking your face. Kate watches the excitement of Lucky from the door, a fond gaze on the two of you.

"Okay, okay. I've missed you, too. Let's get inside now," you manage to say in between laughs, standing up. You went in with Lucky staring up at the pack of treats in your hand, lightly pawing at it with his tongue sticking out his mouth.

"Wait, I need to put my stuff down first." You pull back the pack of dog treats away from him while Kate closes the door. You can see the impatience he tried to cover with a look of calmness, but you know he would jump on you if he needed to get the treats.

You kick off your shoes and set down your bags in the bedroom you usually sit in whenever you visit Kate, Lucky following you around and circling playfully around you at times.

"He's really missed you," Kate says with a laugh, putting her grocery bag on the kitchen counter to unload and store the contents into her fridge and cabinets.

"I can see that," you say quietly, focused on opening the bags and putting food in his food bowl. Before setting it down on the floor though, you hand feed him a treat, patting his head with your other hand gently as he instantly ate it.

"As much as I would love to play around with him though, I should probably go change and shower." You say, having set down Lucky's food bowl, giving him one last longing pat and standing back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie when you're done?" Kate asks, turning to look at you as she got done storing everything.

"Yeah...I probably need it anyway. You can choose." You say with a nod, and Kate watches you go to your bedroom, off to get yourself cleaned up, unpack, and unwind. She knew exactly what you were saying, and her heart ached just a little at the mere thought of your troubled mind.

You close the door behind you, taking a deep breath in once you were inside, letting it out as a heavy sigh after, walking to your bags to slide the zipper open.

Everything seemed to hit you all at once, your shoulders feeling heavy as it moves along with your hand to grab your clothes. You go to the bathroom, fatigue within your movements as you close the door, pull off your clothes, and turn on the shower.

The warm water running down your skin welcomes you, letting you relax a bit and your muscles letting go of its tensions. The steam filling up a bit of your breathing from the shower makes your body feel comforted, the barely noticeable movement of it going to everything that was glass in the bathroom, fogging it up.

A gentle yawn leaves your mouth, finally feeling the exhaustion take you over. But you still had some energy within you, so you willed yourself to clean yourself up and wash your hair, then turning off the shower once you were done.

You dry yourself off, then put on your clothes. When you were about to go walk out the bathroom though, you had a thought and turn on the sink for a quick second, splashing your face with cold water before drying your face with your towel once more. Now you were a little more awake.

You get out of the bathroom, parts of your hair dripping slightly. Since you already had your clothes on, you decide to unpack everything else, storing your shirts and pants in the closet.

Your eyes flicker to the bed, and the urge to fall into it was strong, but you hold yourself back. If you went into bed by now, you knew you probably wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon.

Once you've dealt with unpacking, you put your bags off somewhere in a corner of the room and move to the door, getting out the bedroom. Out in the living room, you see Kate, already sat down on the couch with a movie set up on the tv. She notices you and looks up.

"Hey. I made us some fries and nuggets." She gestures her hand towards the plates of fries and nuggets accompanied with sauce, making the smallest smile cross your face.

You sit down next to her, grabbing a few and taking a bite, the crunch sounding out as she looked at you eating, resisting a smile when you hummed in delight.

You shift your position on the couch, getting comfortable while Lucky jumped up, laying beside you, only to then move to lay on both of your lap and Kate's, but his head was on your side, making her shake her head at her dog's antics.

Your eyes focus on the screen when Kate hits play, one of your hands patting Lucky's head and traveling down to his body fur while the other one grabs the chicken nuggets and fries.

Kate gently pokes your shoulder multiple times, making you turn to look at her. She had fries in between her teeth and mouth, sauce sitting on the end of it for extra effect of blood, looking like a vampire's fangs. Instantly, you giggle, to which turn to laughs when one of the fries fell, leaving only one in her mouth.

She laughs herself, and quickly go to retrieve the fallen french fry. Although, right as her fingers held it, Lucky had moved and turned to her side, chomping on the fry. Kate grabs the fry in her mouth, eating that before he could try to steal it from her too.

"Hey! That's not yours." She exclaimed, but Lucky only looked at her innocently, licking her face for a moment, probably asking for more. She laughed, but gently push him away, needing to see the tv too.

"You're lucky you're cute." She shakes her head when Lucky had stopped, and settled down in your laps again.

"He's not just Pizza Dog anymore." You start, and she turns her head to look at you, the both of you having something in your heads.

"French Fry Dog," you say simultaneously, the sound of your voices mixing together along with your soft laughs afterwards. Lucky only tilts his head, confused of the sudden sounds from the two of you.

You focus back on the movie, getting invested in the story. The nuggets and fries were slowly going down to an empty plate, counted as snacks for the movie, but still filling up your stomach. The day had transitioned into nighttime now, time going by quickly.

When Lucky moved to settle beside Kate instead, probably needing a new position just as you did, you move to lay down, your head on the armrest and your arm dangling off the couch. At some times of the movie, you space out, your mind occupied with thoughts.

Kate's eyes were completely on the tv, comfortable and fully focused on the story. Your eyes flicker over to her for a split second before returning to the screen, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

"Kate?" You whisper, barely even within the sound volume of a breath. She hums and looks over to you, your body seeming weak against the couch. Lucky was now sleeping beside her.

"What if it doesn't get better?" Your eyes travel down to the floor, not meeting her eyes. Her eyebrows furrow at the suddenness of your sentence, and she sits up more properly.

Having felt the change in your demeanor, Kate quickly pauses the movie, putting all her attention on you. "Don't say that," She counters in a gentle tone.

"You'll get through it. You always have," She says, her voice a soothing sound through the night air. The crickets make noise in the background, having replaced the sounds of the movie now that it was paused.

"Do you think it was me?" You whisper, sitting up because your cheek was starting to get sore from resting against the armrest. You fiddle with your fingers and look at her as Kate quickly shakes her head.

"No. You've stayed through it with her in the worst of times and the best." She takes in how you fiddled with your fingers, a hint to your dark mind. A small gentle, although bit of a sad smile goes over her face as she thought of the softness of your heart.

"Everyone has their mistakes but after all this time I've known you, I think you have been so brave and just...such an amazing person." She says, knowing the many gestures of gifts and time and reassurances you've done before, both to strangers and people you know.

"The point is..." She takes a breath, trying to find the right words to say. She wanted to tread carefully, not wanting to accidentally say something wrong. You watch as she thinks, her words sinking into your mind.

"Don't blame yourself," She finally says, looking directly into your eyes to make sure you heard her completely and isn't lost in your head as she said it.

"The love was there, but you reached the end of it," she points out, unfaltering in her honesty, but her voice was gentle. The truth was, it was doomed from the start. You had it in the back of your head all the time. But there seemed to be such a high chance of it coming out alive from the beginning. Yet, all that was a simple trick your minds put on.

"But why did she...do that?" You ask hesitantly, your heart pained with cracks. You knew people did the things they wanted to, with a reason or not. But this was different. Kate purses her lips, a sigh leaving her mouth.

"Honestly, I'm not who you should be asking..." Kate says with a soft chuckle, a tinge of the sound having a nervous tone, but she needed to help you get out than dig yourself deeper.

"But maybe she didn't want to hurt you," She says with a gentle shrug. Her mind worried it was a bad thing to put out, but she sees your shoulders slumping in defeat.

"...But it did anyway." You sigh. It'll always hurt. Whether you'd like to admit it or not, no matter the ways its done in. She had nothing to say to that.

The two of you sit in quiet silence for a minute, needing the break to think. Lucky shifted slightly in his sleep, and Kate gently puts her fingers through his fur before looking at you once more, seeing your gaze lost in a haze of your thoughts.

"Now, come here." She lets go of Lucky and slowly pushes herself off the couch with her hands, standing up and turning to you. You raise your eyebrows at her, curious of her next moves.

"You're desperately in need of...a teddy bear hug!" She gently tugs on your arm, pulling you up to stand.

"Aw, no!" You joked with a chuckle as you get pulled into her embrace, her arms squeezing you tightly as if you were simply a plushie.

You hug her back though, relishing in the tight yet comforting embrace of her arms. Your body relaxed, feeling the weight on your shoulders slowly disappearing just slightly.

"Thank you." You say under your breath, pulling away from her. She slides her hands into her pockets, giving you a reassuring smile.

"It's what I'm here for." She said quietly with a nod, her eyes traveling over to the clock. Her mind jumps to the memory where you seemed sleepy, right in the car earlier.

"You should get some rest. Have you slept at all ever since you went to the airport?" She asks, nudging your shoulder with her knuckles. A faint thought of you in your worst times went through her mind just for a moment.

"No...but--" You look over to the tv screen, seeing you had just a quarter left to finish of the movie.

"Go," Kate says gently yet slightly sternly in a whisper, cutting you off. Lucky was already sleeping. She was still energized, but she could go to sleep at any time at the moment. Kate was just more concerned about you, hating to see you avoid taking care of yourself.

You look at her for a moment longer, your eyes flicking over to Lucky to think it over before giving in, your head moving in a gentle nod.

She gives you an encouraging smile, letting you go to your bedroom. As you did so, she started cleaning up, getting the plates from earlier and putting them in the sink. When she hears your bedroom door close, was when she could have her heart get just a tad lighter.

You make your way to your bed and turn the dim lights on, falling into bed easily. A sigh leaves your mouth, and you wanted to spill out your feelings, but all that was more on your mind was sleep.

The mattress was soft, and you wanted to sink into it, yet still, your head falls asleep after minutes of tossing and turning while the night delved deeper into a form of comfort.

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

Wanda, on the other hand, hasn't been sleeping at all. She kept thinking over the memories of the past few months. It was like a contest of who can act like they can care less. At first. Then, she saw your efforts and got guilty, wanting to isolate herself instead.

The day you were waiting at the café. She was going to actually have lunch with you. But the person she was with had convinced her to stay. Her heart screamed no, but her mind was far from it. She was already falling out of love with you, so what could it hurt?

It seemed like the right thing at the time for her, and it was easier for her to put the blame on herself than making you overthink about the smallest things and make yourself the villain instead. She didn't want to hurt you. Your heart was the softest she's seen. But she only ended up hurting you further. It was a situation that only had loss.

Then, the birthday was an actual mistake.

She thought it'd be nice to get a day off to herself...and with another, hoping you'll still believe that she was at work, although the both of you had doubted it by that point already. But she actually forgot.

Your past, she knows. How many people you've drifted off from and never really got one to stay or even stayed yourself. Then you met her, who was struggling to believe how anyone could love her. And you decided to stay. For once, you poured your whole heart into it because you promised yourself not to run anymore. For once, she had someone in her life that truly cared for her.

And she did that.

Her legs curl further into her body, the bed being colder than the nights before. Was this what you felt whenever you slept alone and she was off doing whatever?

Her chest caves in and her heart gives up, the walls whispering back to her of her quiet cries.

end of chapter 6. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 5 Chapter 7 ->

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worth-the-chaos · 5 months

Text

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine.

Content Warning: swearing, bullying, trauma responses, intimacy

Word Count: 6.7k

Author’s Note: Sorry this took me longer to get out than some of the previous chapters. Life has been a bit hectic to say the very least (my brother low key got robbed and I was helping him sort some of it out), but I’m glad I was finally able to get this done! I’m looking forward to writing more of season 4!

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, please send me asks! I love talking to you guys, so even if you want to tell me about something as mundane as what you had for breakfast, I’m happy to hear it :)

Series Masterlist | Part 10 | Next Part

***

Spring break started soon, and despite having graduated and gotten out of the shit hole that is Hawkins High, Steve still drove you and Robin to school. You hadn’t stayed the night last night at Steve’s so you slid into the backseat behind him as you got in the car. Even though you were halfway through second semester, you still weren’t used to Steve not being there to walk you to your first period every morning like he had the year before.

Of course, you stepped right into the middle of an argument between your boyfriend and your best friend. At least they aren’t shoving each other like toddlers this time, you thought as you rolled your eyes and buckled your seatbelt.

“Cut me some slack, please! It is 7:00 in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” Robin shouted, pushing the skin on her face around as she looked in the visor mirror.

“Oh, you’re worried about a basketball pep rally? You expect me to believe that?” Steve shot back.

“Yeah? So?” Robin’s voice got small as she anticipated the trajectory of this conversation.

“So, we both know what this is about, okay? I’m not buying that bullshit, this is about Vickie!”

“Absolutely not!” Robin defended herself. You scoffed from the back seat, not believing a word of her lie as Steve spoke up again.

“It is, and you know what else?”

“Uh, I really don’t care,” Robin rolled her eyes while she continued to put on her lip balm.

“You gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta—you just gotta be yourself,” Steve tried to give her a pep talk and you gaped from the backseat before chiming in.

“You do realize you are literally quoting her to her, right?”

“Hey, you stay out of this, and besides, maybe she needs to listen to herself,” Steve glared at you in the rearview mirror before turning back towards Robin, “ever think about that, smartypants? I listened to you and now look at me. Boom. Back in business.” He gestured back towards you as he said it and you rolled your eyes. You were, however, grateful that Robin had gotten involved because you didn’t know how much longer you could take Steve not making a move last summer.

“It’s not the same thing, okay. You ask out a girl like y/n and she says no, big deal. Nothing happens—”

Steve cut her off immediately, “what do you mean ‘nothing happens’? In that hypothetical I lose the love of my life, so yeah that’s a pretty big mother fucking deal!”

“For the sake of the hypothetical—“ Robin began again, “—maybe your ego’s a little bit bruised…but I ask out the wrong girl, and bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“Yeah, I’d buy that, except Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl,” you spoke up, leaning forward to feel more included in the conversation.

“We just don’t know that, do we?”

“She returned Fast Times paused at 53 minutes, 5 seconds,” Steve spoke up and you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where his mind was going. “Do you know who pauses Fast Times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

“Ew!” You and Robin exclaimed in unison.

“Gross, don’t say boobies!” She scolded, causing the boy to just repeat himself like the immature idiot that he was.

“Boobies. Not a big deal, okay? I like boobies. You like boobies. Y/n has boobies—Vickie likes boobies! Definitely!”

“Hey, how about you not bring my tits into this?” You asked Steve, smacking his shoulder. “But I mean, I can’t disagree with him…Vickie definitely likes tits, I mean we have all the evidence,” you added as you turned toward Robin. She rolled her eyes and turned up the radio, deciding she was done with the conversation the three of you were having.

Steve pulled up to Hawkins High, parking briefly to let the two of you out. Before walking to the building you stopped at his door and he rolled the window down.

“Don’t go getting fired while I’m in class, okay?” You warned, smoothing out his vest that was wrinkled because often he couldn’t be bothered to iron it.

“I just wish you could be there, you know? The day just drags on and on and on when I’m working by myself, let alone when I have to work with Keith,” Steve responded, rolling his eyes. Since he had treated Jonathan so shitty when him and Nancy were together, Steve tried to move past the jealous side of himself, but now that he wasn’t even in school with you to see which assholes were hitting on you, it made turning over a new leaf all the more difficult.

“I know, but you are a grown ass adult and you can handle it. Besides, Robin and I will be there after school lets out, so you don’t have to miss me for too terribly long,” you reminded him, leaning into the car to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and you debated just getting back into his car so that you could make out in the break room at Family Video, but Robin’s voice rang out, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of the car.

“Hey shit birds, cool it with the PDA, we’re gonna be late,” Robin yelled out, and you grumbled, rubbing the back of your head as you moved away from Steve’s car to join her. You waved a goodbye to Steve as you bit back a smile before you turned and picked up the pace to join your friend.

You really hated pep rallies with the entirety of your being…and you knew that Robin would too if it weren’t for being in the band and getting to stand the whole time next to Vickie. You usually tried to stand next to the band so that you could at least talk to her, but your talk with Steve had slowed you down and the bleachers had filled up.

“Sorry! I can get Davis to try and get someone to move if you want me to. People usually listen to him because he’s borderline terrifying,” Robin apologized, gesturing behind her to the sousaphone player who was built like a tank. Hawkins High didn’t have football, otherwise you were nearly 1000% confident that he would’ve been goaded into joining the team.

“No, really it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you smiled at her and waved her on to go join Vickie in the stands. You started ascending the bleachers, trying to make your way to the back corner as you weaved through people who were cheering on the cheerleading squad (a bit redundant, you felt). Ever since you started dating Steve, you somehow became even less popular at school, which was a hard feat to accomplish. A lot of girls in your grade were still quite enamored with the boy and understandably disappointed that he was no longer available. As such, they quite deliberately chose to take it out on you.

Normally it didn’t really get to you, but recently it had been bothering you more. You had been used to it last year when you watched girls in the hall cast judgmental looks at you as Steve walked you to class…and that was before you were even officially an item. Now, without having Steve to be there to quell your nerves, you just felt lonely whenever Robin wasn’t around either to distract you from immature high school bullies.

You finally made it to the back corner of the bleachers, not without hearing some nasty comments directed at you. You sighed, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as you leaned against the wall.

“I take it you hate these things too?” A voice spoke up to ask you. You turned to see the familiar mop of long brown hair as you realized the voice belonged to Eddie Munson. You had never been in a class with him before this semester but you had become increasingly familiar with him due to the fact that Ms. O’Donell, your physics teacher, had desperately pleaded with you to tutor him so that he could graduate this year.

You had reluctantly agreed, mostly because you didn’t want to disappoint the poor woman, but it had been an exercise in frustration.

“Well, yeah, they aren’t my favorite. Especially since they’re typically full of people who somehow have a shit ton of school spirit but not even a modicum of decency and respect for me, so that is just…totally epic,” you rolled your eyes, frustrated with one classmate in particular, Claire, who had just tried to trip you on your way up the stairs.

“I studied by the way,” Eddie spoke up, when you looked at him with confusion, he continued, “for the physics quiz today? I studied for it.”

Suddenly, your face twisted in panic as you realized that you hadn’t. You’d been so busy with work and Steve and just trying to hold everything together that you had forgotten about the last assessment you had before going on spring break. “Fuck! I forgot about it.”

“Eh, you’ll do fine anyway,” Eddie replied nonchalantly. You were glad someone at least believed in you.

“Dustin’s still doing alright?” You asked the long haired boy beside you. Since Dustin was in high school now, he no longer needed a babysitter, and thus your career, in an official sense at least, had come to an end. You still saw him extremely regularly because Steve and him were still good friends, but you still worried about him. You knew he was a misfit, and being a misfit yourself it made you nervous that he had found himself in a crowd of…well, misfits. You didn’t want him to go through the same shit that you went through. You didn’t want him to be invisible like you.

“Henderson? He’s fucking awesome! Yeah, of course he’s fine,” Eddie replied, laughing as he shoved you in the shoulder. Even though everyone liked to talk about how much of a mess Eddie Munson was, you were glad that Ms. O’Donell’s arrangement had at least shown you that he wasn’t a bad guy. It was nice to have another friend at Hawkins High. “How’s Steve doing?” Eddie asked, not doing at great job at hiding his distaste for the graduate with the perfect hair.

You rolled your eyes at his tone before answering. “He’s great…I just thought dating the son of a bitch would mean that I’d get at least enough status here for people to not treat me like shit,” you chuckled.

Your conversation with Eddie fizzled out as the basketball team entered the gym. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Lucas on the court. He looked happy, so even though he was surrounded by meathead athletes, you couldn’t really be mad. You knew he was smart enough to make good decisions and he still had you all as a support group, so you tried to shove the worry down in your chest.

Jason Carver took the mic and began going on and on as he spoke. Though you really, really didn’t like the kid, you had to give him credit. He sure did know how to give a speech.

��…you know, I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins. So much loss. And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take? In dark days like this, we need something to believe in. So last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy, I looked at my team and I said think of Melissa. Think of Heather. Think of Billy. Think of our heroic police chief Jim Hopper. Think of each and every one of our friends who perished in that fire…”

That was when you stopped listening. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of the loss that you had faced. You didn’t need someone like Jason who didn’t know jack shit about loss to explain it to you. “I have to go,” you whispered to Eddie, and before he could respond, you slipped out of the bleachers, telling a teacher that you needed to use the restroom, and darting out the gym doors.

Robin noticed you leaving and quickly set her trumpet down, taking off her shako, which Vickie graciously took before darting down the hall after you.

“Y/n,” she yelled after you trying to catch up but you didn’t slow down, quickly evading her and turning a corner as you wiped tears from your eyes. “Y/n!”

She finally caught up to you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from running away from her. “What’s wrong?” She asked, eyes searching yours in an attempt to make sure you were okay.

“I don’t even know how to explain it,” you choked out, unable to keep your emotions at bay.

“Could you at least try?” Robin asked softly, running a hand up and down your arm to soothe the strong emotions you were feeling.

“I…I’m-I’m just tired of-of people like Jason trying to explain the loss to me. I get it! I know what it was like; I was there!” You stammered. Robin nodded, and you knew she understood what you were going through. You were eternally grateful that you had the support system that you had; you were never alone in your struggle which was both a blessing and a curse. You wouldn’t wish your experience with the supernatural on your worst enemy, so sometimes it was difficult to stomach the fact that your closest friends had experienced it alongside you.

“What can I do?” Robin asked, wanting nothing more than to make it better.

“I just…I think I need to leave,” you cried, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. Robin nodded, leading you out the doors of school to the pay phone right outside. Fortunately, with everyone tied up at the pep rally, there wasn’t anyone to stop the two of you as you put some coins in the telephone. Your fingers hesitated as you thought about who to call, finally settling before dialing the number.

After a couple rings, a familiar voice picked up. “Hello, this is Steve from Family Video, how can I help you today?”

“Steve,” you cried out and immediately he was on high alert.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at school, but-but I’m just…having one of those days you know?” Steve had been your rock through processing the trauma that your experiences with the Upside Down had brought you, so he very much understood that somedays were just too much for you.

“I need to talk to Keith really quickly, but then I’m going to come and pick you up, okay? You’re not by yourself, are you?” Steve asked, concern lacing his tone.

“No, Robin’s with me.”

“Good, good, good. Can you put her on the phone, baby?” Steve sounded frantic, and if you could have seen him, his anxious behaviors would have confirmed it. There he was, standing at the counter of Family Video, not even an hour into his shift when shit had to hit the fan. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but knowing that you were upset was enough to keep him from being calm. There was a silence, before Robin’s voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hey.”

“How bad is she?” He cut to the chase.

“Um, I mean…you heard her,” Robin replied, speaking in vague terms so that you wouldn’t be offended by their conversation.

Steve sighed, jotting down a note on a piece of scratch paper, his version of “talking to Keith.” After he scribbled down the words, he refocused on the phone call. “Okay, Robin, here’s what you need to do. Take her to the nurse or something and find some way to get them to send her home. I don’t need her stressing about missing class unexcused, alright? You know how she is about that sort of stuff.”

“Got it. Just head out now, I should be able to get this sorted pretty quickly,” Robin confirmed, hanging up the phone and turning back to you. “Alright dingus number two, let’s get this all figured out.”

***

When Steve’s car pulled up, you felt relief flood your entire body. You wished that discussions of what happened last summer didn’t affect you as much as they did, but sometimes it all still caught you off guard.

The car halted to a stop as Steve quickly got out rushing over to you and scooping you into a tight hug. “Baby,” he whispered into your ear as you melted against him, tears soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Steve…I-I’m trying so hard, but then-then Jason started giving one of his dumbass speeches and I just lost it.”

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay; you’re okay, I’m here now, alright?” Steve pulled away and put his hands on either side of your face to get you to look at him. There was so much sincerity in his eyes that it almost made you break all over again as you thought about how lucky you were to have him. “I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

You knew he was talking about his house, so you nodded. You thanked Robin and she gave you a weak smile before waving and walking back inside. You were grateful that she had stayed with you, but you felt bad that you had prevented her from spending time with Vickie. Steve opened the passenger door for you and once he was back in his seat, he started driving away from the hell hole that was Hawkins High.

“Steve, I really don’t want you to miss your shift,” you spoke up, looking at him innocently. He could just melt right there with the way that you looked at him.

“Y/n, don’t even worry about it, seriously. I’d much rather take care of you and make sure that you’re okay than be at that stupid job.”

“But Keith already kind of hates you…like a lot. I’ve got my uniform vest in my bag, let me just pick up a shift and I’ll work with you,” you offered. Steve looked at you hesitantly, but upon noticing the way that you had calmed down in his presence, he relented.

“Fine, but you’re not going to lift a finger while we’re working, okay? You’re just gonna sit there and look pretty and I’ll take care of everything,” he replied. He desperately wished he could lean over and kiss you right now but the last time he had tried to do that while driving, you’d scolded him and he almost crashed his BMW, so he decided that it wasn’t worth the risk…he had precious cargo.

You rolled your eyes and turned up the radio, biting back a smile. When you got to Family Video, you threw on your vest quickly, before you both entered the store. Keith stood scowling at the counter, holding up Steve’s sloppily handwritten note as if it was evidence in a crime, though to him it probably was.

“Dude, not cool.”

“Keith, did you even read the fucking note? Clearly it was an emergency,” Steve spat, as he gestured to you. He was tired of Keith being a complete ass all of the time.

“Y/n? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Keith asked, his demeanor suddenly drastically changing. Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed, knowing damn well that this dumbass had a fat crush on you.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, “but I’m here and I’m willing to pick up an extra shift, so you can leave if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Keith spoke up, “but you better keep—“

“Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sighed and Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. What the hell did I ever do to deserve this shit?

Keith exited the store, so now it was just you and Steve. Friday mornings at Family Video were usually pretty slow given the fact that most people were at work or school, so there really wasn’t much work to do.

“So, have you gotten any more acceptance letters?” Steve spoke up and asked as he began reorganizing one of the shelves. He held his breath as he waited for your answer. Though he wanted nothing more than for you to be able to attend the school of your dreams, he was afraid of what that meant for the two of you and your relationship.

“Yeah, a couple more actually,” you smiled up at Steve. You had a lot of the same fears that he did about the potential of moving away. It was scary to think about trying to stay together through that huge of a life change. And you knew that you would miss him like crazy. But Nancy and Jonathan are making it work, so of course you guys would be able to…right?

“Have you made any decisions yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet. I’m still waiting to get a few decisions back before I make one of my own,” you spoke up, your voice a little small. You weren’t going to tell Steve, but what you were really waiting on was your decision from Purdue. It was close enough that nothing would have to change. You could still see Steve whenever you wanted. You were neglecting to mention this to him, however, because you knew he constantly felt like he was holding you back. He didn’t want you to make your decision based on him, but you couldn’t help but take that into account.

These were the most stilted and awkward conversations the two of you had. You and Steve could talk for hours about really pretty much everything, but as soon as college came up, it was like your ability to effectively communicate went out the window.

It wasn’t long before the phone rang again, and you picked it up. “Hello, thank you for calling Family Video. I’m y/n, how can I help you?” Your retail voice spilled from your lips sweetly.

“Y/n, this is Dustin…Listen, Lucas has to play in the championship game tonight and we need another player for Hellfire tonight, so could you please, please, fill in for him? Just this once?” The boy begged.

“Um, absolutely not,” your customer service voice disappeared as soon as you knew who was on the other line. Dustin had roped you into playing D&D once before, feeling bad for the kids after Mike had come down with a bad cold and couldn’t play. First of all, Dustin had said it wouldn’t take long. Secondly, it had been the most miserable fourteen hours of your life, so there was no way in hell you were about to do it again.

Dustin started complaining over the phone, continuing to beg you to join, before you decided that you didn’t get paid enough for this shit, handing the phone off to Steve, saying “it’s for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool off pipsqueak,” Steve sighed into the phone.

“Steve! Sweet, okay. Dude, I am about to offer you the most kick-ass opportunity that will ever get extended your direction. I mean, I’m talking immaculate storytelling, a badass group of people, more fun than you will ever have in your life. I’m talking—“

“Cut to the chase,” Steve cut the boy off and rolled his eyes.

“Right, yeah, okay. Lucas has to play basketball and we need an extra person for D&D tonight,” Dustin sighed, sounding a bit defeated, no longer attempting to put on the persuasive charm that he had started with.

“No. Can’t. Sorry. I have a date tonight.”

“Just move your date this one time, come on!” Dustin begged. Why did the two cool older kids in his life have to be dating each other? In Dustin’s opinion it made both of you significantly less cool.

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass,” Steve responded. You rolled your eyes at the nickname for the poor boy in your class. He really wasn’t that bad, but you weren’t about to lecture Steve about it.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have another older male friend,” Dustin retorted, attempting to get under Steve’s skin.

“Ew. Ugh, whatever. Besides, you know, I really dig this girl...who knows, maybe she could be the one,” he added, smiling at you as you beamed right back at him from your perch on the countertop.

“You two are fucking disgusting,” Dustin replied, scoffing.

“No, we’re cool as fuck, dipshit,” Steve shot back. The door suddenly swung open, as a group of three girls entered the store, the bell above the door chiming to its familiar tune. “Oh, I got some customers. Call you back, bye.” Steve hung up the phone, ignoring Henderson’s protests.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help you today?” You smiled at the group of girls. They were definitely from Steve’s graduating class, home on spring break already. They cast you a judgmental look before turning to Steve.

“Steve! Oh my goodness! It’s been so long since I saw you last,” one of the girls spoke up. When Steve stood staring, unsure of how to respond, her face fell a bit as she added, “it’s me…Alice.”

“Oh, right…how are…things?”

“Oh, life’s been just so peachy! It’s just, us gals need to have a little fun this spring break…you know how it is,” she laughed flirtatiously. “We were just hoping that you had a good movie recommendation for us.”

Steve looked at you and could tell that you weren’t happy with the way these girls were talking to him as if you weren’t even there, so he spoke up, wrapping an arm around you and hugging you close to him. “Yeah, actually. My girlfriend, y/n, and I went and saw Back to the Future together on our first date, and I would really recommend it. I can already tell it’s gonna be a classic, you know?”

At this, Alice frowned, glaring at you before plastering on a fake ass smile. “Aww, that’s so cute that you two are dating! It’s just so surprising, I never would have put you two together. You always seemed like you’d want to go for the more mature girls…the ones with more experience, you know? But I’m just so so happy for the two of you.”

“Yeah, we are really, really happy. Honestly haven’t met a better person than her. But thank you so much for the well wishes, Alex,” Steve responded with a smirk as he grabbed a copy of the movie from the counter. He knew exactly what he was doing, and didn’t feel a bit bad about the way the girl’s face fell as she looked between her two friends. “So, are you ready to check out your movie or what?”

“Actually, I think we’re going to make other plans for this evening,” she spat, “and it’s Alice.”

“Well, I’m sorry we couldn’t be of service to you today,” Steve narrowed his eyes as she turned around, sauntering out of the store with her two friends following closely behind. You rolled your eyes, but you were grateful that Steve at least recognized that the girls had ulterior motives.

“Thank you for that,” you chuckled awkwardly, putting the copy of the movie back on the shelf. You wished you could tell him that the girl’s words hadn’t gotten under your skin, but that would be a lie.

“She was a bitch in high school anyway. Hasn’t changed a bit…mature, my ass,” Steve grumbled, glaring at her car as they pulled away.

“So, we have a date tonight?” You spoke up, reminding Steve of what he had told Dustin. His words had been a surprise to you.

“Yeah, actually!” Steve beamed, “I was thinking we could go to the championship game for basketball tonight. You know, I just miss some of that stuff about high school sometimes, and I know that you miss seeing the kids as often, so I thought that it might be nice to see Lucas play…even if he is a bench warmer…And we’d get to see Robin! And maybe we could even help her with talking to Vickie and—“

“Steve,” you chuckled, “of course I want to go with you, so you can stop trying to sell me on it. That was very thoughtful of you.”

He moved towards you, grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into him until your hips were flush against his, “besides, I was thinking that afterwards, you could spend the night at mine, and we could…hang out some more.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been officially dating Steve for eight months and he still was able to make you weak at the knees with only a few words. Your mind flashed back to what Alice had said, about how you were inexperienced, and you thought about the fact that you and Steve hadn’t…gone all the way. You knew that he wanted to, and at first you were holding off because, even though you knew he changed, you still sometimes worried about his history of being a player. However, now that it had been eight months and you two still hadn’t had sex, you were pretty confident he was going to stick with you. Now your insecurities centered more around the fact that you hadn’t been intimate in that way with anyone before. What if he realized that you weren’t good enough and the spark disappeared? What if he didn’t want you anymore?

“Hey, is anyone in there? Earth to y/n, what’s going on?” Steve joke as he knocked his fingers gently against the side of your head. You giggled and leaned against his chest.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” you closed your eyes. He was just so perfect and you always felt like you were seconds away from losing him. He made you feel so comfortable, which sometimes paradoxically put you on edge. You pulled away, running your fingers through his perfect head of hair as you smiled up at him.

“I love you, y/n. I really, really do,” he looked down at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“I love you too, Steve.”

***

Steve placed a gentle hand to your back as he guided you up the bleachers, making sure that you found a spot close to the band so that you could chat with Robin. You had barely gotten to your spots when the principal took the mic, his words ringing out through the gymnasium.

“Everyone now please rise for our national anthem. Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest. All the way from Nashville, our very own Tammy Thompson!” The audience cheered as she walked into the gym, waving as if she was some sort of celebrity. You gaped as you and Steve looked over at Robin.

She began singing extremely off key, feedback from the microphone resonating through the gym. Steve leaned towards Robin, whispering, “told you…muppet!” You smacked him in the chest, and he looked at you in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet,” Robin whispered back. Vickie laughed beside her and you smiled as she replied, kickstarting a small conversation between the two of them.

Tammy finally finished her screechy, godawful rendition of the national anthem and the game started. It was a nail biter, but you weren’t on edge until a player on your team got injured and suddenly Lucas Sinclair, season long bench warmer, was on the court.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you said, staring wide eyed at the court as you lazily slapped him in the chest to get his attention. He looked at you incredulously, given the fact that he had been paying much closer attention the whole time than you were.

“Let’s go Lucas! You’ve got this buddy!” Steve yelled out. Sure, he acted like the kids were just a massive pain in his ass, which they were most of the time, but he loved them more than life itself. Watching Lucas play, Steve couldn’t really believe the coach hadn’t put him in all season.

There were three seconds left in the game, and suddenly Lucas had the ball. Hawkins was down by one point, and Lucas shot the ball. You watched with bated breath as the basketball bounced around the rim. You grabbed Steve’s wrist, as you watched with a furrowed brow. Is this what it’s like to be a sport parent?

The ball finally sank into the hoop, and you began jumping up and down as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. You turned and hugged Steve around his neck, needing somewhere to place all your anxiety-turned-adrenaline, now that the game was finally over. Even though Steve was a bit bummed that he hadn’t won a championship of his own, he was damn proud that Lucas had.

The whole basketball team surrounded Lucas, and you quickly made your way down the bleachers. After the team had celebrated and there was finally a break in the crowd, you approached Lucas, pulling him into a hug.

“Lucas, you were amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, y/n!” The boy beamed. He had been bummed that Dustin and Mike bailed on him, but seeing you there was an unexpected surprise, considering he knew how much you hated basketball.

“I assume the team will be celebrating?” You asked him with a knowing look. He looked at you sheepishly, which confirmed your assumption. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but please try and make good decisions. And if you need anything at all, just call Steve, okay? He can pick you up, it down’t matter what time it is, you just call, alright?”

Lucas rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed at your maternal tendencies, but the way you cared about him still made him feel good, so he decided he’d forgive it. “Yeah, okay, I got it. Thanks again for coming guys,” he added, shaking Steve’s hand as Steve patted him on the back to congratulate him. Lucas jogged off with the rest of the team, leaving you and Steve to head out of the gym together.

Once you got to the parking lot, you saw the Hellfire boys exit another wing of the school and you marched off towards them, ignoring Steve’s protests.

“Hey, guys…how was the campaign? I see you found someone to fill in,” you chuckled as Erica gave you a hug. Despite her sassy attitude about 80% of the time, she could be really sweet on the rare occasion.

“It was awesome, y/n!” Erica beamed as she told you.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” you smiled down at her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the miraculous Ms. Y/n…you missed O’Donell’s quiz,” Eddie spoke up, looking at you with crossed arms.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling too well earlier, so I had to leave early,” you didn’t elaborate, “how’d it end up going?”

“It was pretty good. I actually don’t think I failed it this time, so thanks for the help. You know, I’m really fucking determined to graduate this go around.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad I could help,” you replied and Steve reached for your hand. You interlocked your fingers with his before you added, “well, we’d better get going…we have an early shift tomorrow, so I’ll see you suckers later.” You saluted with your free hand while Steve grumbled a goodbye and dragged you towards his car.

You got in the passenger seat and as he started it, you could tell he was a little frustrated. “What’s got your panties in a twist, huh?”

“It’s just, I didn’t know you were such good friends with Eddie,” Steve grumbled and you rolled your eyes, chuckling. He looked at you exasperated, in disbelief that you would laugh, but you just leaned in and caught his open mouthed expression in a kiss. He immediately softened at your touch, muttering an apology as you pulled away.

“Ms. O’Donell just asked me to help him with some of his physics shit since he’s dense as fuck. I promise you there is absolutely nothing going on between us…he’s just a friend.” Steve tried to shove his jealousy aside. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him. He just nodded as he drove off, brow still furrowed. You were getting worried that he wasn’t saying anything, but you were terrified of breaking the silence.

When you got to his house, he yanked your car door open, helping you out before grabbing your wrist and pulling you in his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Normally he was pretty gentle with you, but this time he was a little rougher as he guided you to his bed. You sat down with a huff as he let go, looking at you with wild eyes.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong,” you spoke up beginning to tear up at the way the night was going. His expression softened a bit in surprise, but he reset it, sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap to straddle him before placing his lips to your neck. He sucked harshly at the skin and you let out a gasp, melting at his touch.

“I’m not mad at you, baby…I could never be mad at you,” he assured you as he breathed across the expanse of your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I just get a little jealous sometimes is all…and I want to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you are 100% all mine,” he added as he sucked on your neck again, leaving visible marks and love bites.

You breathed out a small moan that was like music to his ears as he flipped you over so that you were lying down, continuing to kiss across your neck. He began to unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, placing gentle kisses across your collarbones and down your chest, but your hands quickly darted up to stop him. He immediately let go, looking you in the eyes, searching for what was wrong.

“Steve, I’m sorry…I-I’m just not ready,” your voice cracked as you whispered, your eyes welling up with tears again. You hated disappointing him, and you were worried that he was going to lose interest in you.

“Y/n, please don’t cry…and don’t apologize either. I don’t want to do a damn thing until you’re ready for it, okay?” He assured you while you both sat up, looking you in the eyes with so much sincerity it made you want to cry all over again.

“It’s just….I-I keep thinking about what that girl said at work earlier…she was right you know? I am inexperienced and it’s embarrassing, and I just wish that I could be less weird about all of it and—“

Steve cut you off, “woah, woah, woah! I don’t give a fuck what that girl said. And who cares that you’re inexperienced? I swear that I don’t. Besides, it just means that when you are ready, I get to make sure I really take my time and make it real special for you, okay baby?”

You smiled up at him, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled into the kiss as it deepened, before pulling away to look at you again.

“I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, you know that?” You smiled at the praise, before he leaned in to place more kisses down your neck. Life was just so perfect.

Your heart rate quickened at the thought as your breath caught in your lungs. You knew better than to trust things to stay that way…a bad feeling settled in your chest as Steve continued to kiss and nip at your tender skin.

You pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and allowed Steve to continue kissing you. If shit was about to hit the fan, you’d be damned if you let it cut this moment short. That was a problem for another day, you decided as you melted under Steve’s gentle touch.

***

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! If you wanted an easy way to make me smile, feel free to reblog ;)

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#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #netflix #friends to lovers #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Give You Blue

Chapter 3: Umbrella

🎶 I can't stop the rain, but I will keep you dry 🎶

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

Rating: Explicit (this chapter does not contain any explicit material, but the series as a whole will remain Explicit)

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, a little bit of fluff

Word Count: ~2.9k

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Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: With your classes as a distraction, you manage to survive a month into your breakup. However, you hit a snag when you run into your ex for the first time since the start of the semester. And, as if it couldn't get any worse, you forget to bring an umbrella on a day with heavy rainfall. Luckily, someone comes to your aid. Author’s Notes: Introducing Eren’s point of view! Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Thank you so much for the support! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know in the comments or interact with the Give You Blue Taglist post. Appreciate y’all! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.

Eren hates his major.

It’s not that he dislikes biology. In fact, he adores it. He has fond childhood memories of Armin sneaking encyclopedias from his grandpa’s library so that the two of them can flip through each page, eyes wide open in awe at the information displayed. Eren has always been particularly fascinated with science.

No, it’s not biology; he hates being pre-med. He’s only doing it because his father, the renowned Dr. Grisha Jaeger, gave him an ultimatum. It was either pre-med or no tuition, without any room for compromise. Eren’s fate is to become a physician, whether he likes it or not, all because it’s what the Jaeger patriarch wants. To be fair, he’s never stood up for himself. Zeke, his older brother, is in med school at Marley. He can’t be the sole disappointing son; he just can’t.

So, instead, he suffers. One month into the semester, and he’s already struggling with organic chemistry. Freshman year, he aced biology, no problem. But chemistry? It’s a totally different language that he can’t comprehend.

Inside the lecture hall, he stares at his graded quiz, a big 53% scribbled in bold red ink. He glances at the other students, sneaking a peek at what they got. His concerns lessen slightly, spotting a few other 50s. Luckily, because the exam was so difficult, the professor informs them that it will be weighted. Still, this isn’t good enough. He’ll have a hard time explaining this one to the doctor.

When class is dismissed, Eren remains in his seat, head in his hands, re-evaluating his life choices. Is it going to be this way the rest of the semester? The remainder of the schoolyear? For the next decade? He’s only a sophomore; it’s only going to get harder from here. There’s so much pressure to do well right off the bat. After all, a high GPA is required for him to get into the prestigious Marley School of Medicine, the same university Zeke is currently attending. The standard has already been set high, and Eren needs to reach it if he doesn’t want to be considered a failure.

There’s a heavy burden weighing him down, sometimes he finds it difficult to breath. The first semester of freshman year was a breeze; he had a good handle on his classes, snuck into a few frat parties with Mikasa and Armin, made fond memories with his friends. It was fun. Now, it’s anything but. He signed up to be an RA to have his own personal space so he could study. Basically coop himself in his room without having to resort to the library across campus. He tries to see his friends, but rarely goes out to a party. Armin, of all people, joined a frat last semester and has invited Eren out several times, always resulting in him declining.

College is no longer enjoyable. And maybe for him, it was never meant to be. Is this what his life is going to be in the future? All work, no play? Is he destined to become like his workaholic father, who is hardly home? His brother, who’s aged twenty years despite being under thirty? He’s constantly debating in his mind if this is the route he wants to take. It keeps him awake at night, stressing about it.

Eventually, he gets up out of his seat, slinging his backpack across his shoulders, his other hand grasping a large umbrella. The forecast predicted rain all afternoon. Fitting for how he’s feeling at the moment.

Walking out of the lecture hall and towards the exit, he notices someone standing near the door, leaning against the wall, face buried in their hands. He approaches closer, realizing it’s one of his residents. And she’s crying.

~~~

It’s been a month since Reiner broke up with you. Your classes have been a well-needed distraction, keeping yourself focused on assignments rather than memories of your past relationship. Still, when you’re in bed every night, desperate to fall asleep, the flashbacks play on a continuous loop, keeping you awake. It’s been difficult to get a proper amount of sleep because of this. It’s a vicious cycle, one you haven’t quite figured out how to get out of. But like Annie said, baby steps.

With your midday class over, you walk to the nearest vending machine, purchasing a canned coffee beverage to fuel your perpetual exhaustion. Caffeine has been one of your saving graces during this trying time, aside from the support from your friends. It also helps that you haven’t seen Reiner since the drastic breakup. You’ve been actively avoiding all of the usual spots you used to frequent with him, going out to the cafeteria, library, or the mini mart at odd times of the day. He hasn’t reached out to you, most likely giving you space until you decide to initiate. What do you even say? You’re trying to move on, and keeping in contact with him would only make it harder. But there’s no denying it; you miss him.

As you step towards the exit, you notice all the other students clad in their waterproof coats or holding umbrellas. It’s pouring now, and you’re not prepared at all. Annie’s reminder last night resurfaces in your brain a little too late. She mentioned how it was supposed to rain today, and you probably brushed it off. Or maybe in your rush to get to class this morning, running on only two hours of sleep, it slipped your mind.

Directly across is the next building. Thinking quickly, you hunch underneath your backpack, making some sort of makeshift shelter, and hurry over, doing your best to avoid getting soaked. There’s a large crowd of students leaving one of the lecture halls. You push past them, pausing near the exit, trying to decide what your next move should be. And that’s when you her him.

“Coco?”

Your heart drops when you hear his voice, uttering that all too familiar nickname. Slowly, you turn around, seeing Reiner standing before you with a pretty, blonde woman beside him.

“Oh. Hi.” You do your best to sound nonchalant, actually stunned by his presence.

He swallows hard, clearly nervous. “I didn’t know you had a class in here.”

“No, I don’t. I was just passing through. I, uh, forgot my umbrella, so I’m trying my best to avoid the rain.” You glance down at your shirt, spotted with droplets. “Obviously, it’s not working,” you add, with a small chuckle. You’re surprised that you can laugh when there’s dread suffocating your lungs. Seeing him in the flesh, after weeks of miraculously avoiding him, is hitting you harder than you imagined.

Reiner stares at you, concern in his eyes. The same expression he’s given you throughout your life whenever he was worried about you. “It’s pouring the rest of the day. You’re going to get soaked.” It’s genuine the way he says it; like he still cares about you. It makes you regret coming here in the first place.

“We can walk you to your dorm, if you want.” Her voice startles you for a second, forgetting she’s here as you fixate on your ex. She gives you a small smile when she continues. “I’m Christa, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You shake her hand, introducing yourself. Glancing at her sweatshirt, two deltas stitched across with a floral pattern, you comment, “I like your letters. They’re very cute.”

Her smile widens. “Thank you! My big gave it to me last semester. Are you also in a sorority?”

“No, I’m not,” you reply, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

She wiggles her finger at you and Reiner. “How do you two know each other, then?”

“We’ve known each other since we were kids. We grew up together,” Reiner answers, a hint of pride in his voice. “We’re best friends.” He glances at you, checking your reaction. You look down at your sneakers, wet at the soles, trying not to show the emotions rattling inside.

“That is so sweet! Well, if you’re ever interested in joining a sorority, we do informal recruitment in the fall, formal recruitment in the spring. You should stop by the house some time for dinner, maybe during the nights Reiner is hashing.”

“Hashing…?”

“Sorry! So used to speaking in sorority language! Reiner is one of our hashers. He helps serve food and wash dishes, in exchange for a paycheck, of course. His shifts are usually at dinner.”

You finally meet his eyes. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

He opens his mouth, wanting to respond. Then Christa nudges him with her elbow, giggling. “How can you not tell your best friend that you have a job?!”

He avoids your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I forgot.” The truth is more complicated to explain; you don’t blame him for that. Still, it hurts. You’re so used to knowing everything about each other. Now, he’s practically a stranger.

Christa, blissfully unaware, repeats her earlier offer. “We can walk you to your dorm! And we can talk more about Delta Delta if you’d like.” Her offer is kind, even with the ulterior motive, trying to recruit you. It’s not the sales-pitch that’s deterring you, though. It’s the idea of sharing an umbrella with them, forcing yourself to act like it’s all fine and dandy. That he didn’t break your heart a few weeks ago so that he can hang out with sorority girls like Christa, gorgeous, sweet, and sociable. It’s not her that bothers you, not at all. She has no idea the pain you’re going through. Reiner does, and it makes you angry knowing he wants to play pretend for the sake of his image.

“It’s okay, I can walk on my own from here. Greek Row is on the opposite side of campus, it doesn’t make sense for you to walk me.” You’re not going to accept the offer, no matter what. It’s better this way. You’d rather get drenched than subject yourself to this.

“C’mon, Coco. We really don’t mind,” Reiner urges.

We. It’s a simple word, no significant meaning behind it. To you, it’s devastating. It used to be you and him. Now, it’s him with somebody else. You’re the third party here. And sure, they’re probably just friends, but the insecure part of you is going insane, wondering if he’s already moved on.

More adamant, you say, “I’ll be fine. Seriously.” You give Reiner a stern look, one he recognizes instantly. He’s seen it many times before, and he knows that he should just drop it. Christa’s eyes dart between you two, picking up on the tension. “Okay, well, I hope you take up my offer for dinner. I’ll let Reiner contact you to schedule a time.” She smiles at you, waving. “It was really nice to meet you, Coco.”

Reiner makes a strangled noise in his throat, caught off guard by his special nickname for you being used by somebody other than him. You’re surprised at yourself when you let out a genuine chuckle, grinning. “It was nice meeting you too.” You’re not annoyed at her for calling you that. In fact, you’re relieved. In a way, you feel liberated from it. It no longer belongs to him.

You’re overwhelmed with emotions as soon as they leave side-by-side under his umbrella. You wait until they’re out of sight, leaning against the wall, hiding your face as the tears stream down your cheeks. Suddenly, and at the worst timing, you hear a familiar voice call out to you. Peering up, you see Eren, your RA, standing in front of you.

You meet him in passing every now and then, walking out or into his room while you’re going the opposite direction, exchanging a friendly wave or pleasant greeting. There’s always a pleasant smile on his face, as if life Is great and everything is going to be fine. This is the second time he’s witnessed you crying, two times too many at this point. You’re hot with embarrassment, being caught a blubbery mess once again.

“Hi,” you sniffle, drying your cheek with your sleeve.

“Are you okay?” He’s concerned, of course. Similar to the first time you burst into tears upon meeting him.

You take a deep, shaky breath before responding, “Yeah. I’m fine. I just…I didn’t know it was going to rain.”

It’s silent between you for a moment, Eren processing the situation before speaking. “If you’re heading back to the dorms, we can walk together.” He holds the curved handle in up, smiling. You’re grateful he doesn’t question it further, understanding there’s more behind your outburst than just a little bit of unforeseen weather.

Once outside, he opens the umbrella, revealing a blue-sky pattern over your heads. You laugh at the irony of it.

“Pretty cool, right?” he beams, holding the handle between you. “I always like to carry a bit of blue with me whenever it’s a gloomy day.”

“I love it,” you reply, returning his bright smile. “Almost makes it feel like it isn’t raining at all.” You huddle next to him, trying your best not to bump your shoulder against his. “Thank you. I would have been stranded if you didn’t come along.”

“No problem at all. Just consider this one of my responsibilities, as your RA.”

“To show off your super cool umbrella to your residents?” you joke, smirking.

He turns his head to face you, gazing at you kindly. “No. To keep you safe and protect you.”

You focus your attention on the ground, avoiding any puddles and ignoring the slight flutter in your belly. “You might be the best RA ever with that kind of mindset.”

He chuckles. “Well, I haven’t forgiven myself for making you cry the first night I met you. So I’m doing my best to make up for it.”

You cover you face with your hand, remembering that humiliating moment. “Oh god, don’t remind me. It really wasn’t you. I was in a fragile state and apparently, red velvet cupcakes were triggering at the time.”

The rain lets up a bit, reduced to a drizzle now. Eren stares in front of him, relaxing the grip on the handle. “Are you feeling better now?”

You choose your words carefully before replying, “Yeah. I think so.” It’s not a confident answer, though it’s the best you can do, without going into detail about it.

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

The two of you walk in silence for the next few minutes, listening to the soft trickle of raindrops against the pavement. There’s something peaceful about the rain when you’re not getting absolutely drowned by it. You look up, admiring the blue-sky pattern, feeling the tiniest boost of serotonin on an otherwise dreary situation. “You’re doing a great job, by the way.”

“Huh?”

A little louder, you repeat, “I said you’re doing a great job. Being an RA and everything.” You’re unsure yourself what you mean by “everything”. He’s basically a stranger to you. However, for some reason, you’re comfortable around him.

“Oh. Thanks.” You can tell he’s surprised by your comment, which makes you smile to yourself.

Another moment of silence passes as you approach the dorms. “I’ll have to find a way to thank you for this,” you say.

“You really don’t have to.”

“If it weren’t for you, I’d either be stuck there, crying. Or back at the dorms, drenched from head to toe.” You remove the keycard from your pocket, swiping your ID at the door.

He holds it open for you, beckoning you to enter first, folding and tying his umbrella closed. “Well, if you must know, I love Pocky.”

“Pocky?” You raise your brow at him, amused.

“You know, those little stick treats, covered in chocolate.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar. I’m just surprised by your answer,” you grin, stopping in front of his room.

“Hey, I told you I have a sweet tooth, right? Just get me a box of that, and we’ll call this even.”

“Okay,” you reply. “I can do that.”

He watches you walk the rest of the way down the hall to your room. You face him, giving him one last wave before you enter, retreating inside. You set your bag down and sit at the edge of your bed, surprised at how okay you’re doing, despite running into Reiner. Maybe you really are doing better.

Soon after, your phone vibrates, notifying you of a text. When you check it, you find yourself staring at the screen, frozen in place.

Reiner: Hope you made it back to your dorm okay.

~~~

You’re doing a great job. On a shitty day like today, those five simple words give Eren the validation he needs. If he can’t be great at chemistry, it’s nice knowing he is succeeding in another way. It makes him feel good, as if he’s finally doing something right. Being appreciated for it isn’t expected, but it sure is nice.

He doesn’t see or hear from her until a few days later, when he comes back from one of his classes. Outside his room, he spots a plastic bag hanging on the doorknob, a note attached to the outside of it:

Eren, thank you for keeping me dry from the rain the other day. Consider us even now.

He smiles reading her name signed at the end of it. Peeking into the bag, he sees at least a dozen Pocky boxes scattered inside.

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @mrs-wolfwood @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

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serevena · 6 months

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Grim Ranger.

Ellie Williams x Fem!reader, Abby Anderson x Fem!reader

Synopsis - you, a young journalist have been unexpectedly invited to an annual private party on an island. Sera Wells, one of the most influential people in your life when it comes to your work, is the host. You find yourself surrounded by not only famous and or rich acquaintances, but in the middle of the storm. But, that’ll be the least of your worries for your stay.

a.n - So glad I got this idea..This series is an interactive ‘your choice’ murder mystery!! *audience cheers*..I’d love to hear any theories you guys might have as the story progresses! This series is heavily inspired by the ‘Murder By Choice’ mobile game in case u wanna play it! This is the song of the series :) Hope u enjoy <3

warnings - provocative language, mentions of a murder, smut in later chapters, this is the beginning of the series so it may be boring (trust me pls).

The jet shook as your body couldn’t help but freeze up. Anyone would be nervous about this, right? You looked over to the pilot who gave you a soft smile before mouthing an ‘I’m sorry.’

You just stood silent and looked over to your friend, Jesse, to see if he was visibly shaken up or not. But he barely acknowledged it, or you, just mouthing lyrics to a song with his headphones on. You let out a sigh before the pilot spoke up.

Apologies for the turbulence, there is a nasty storm behind us.

You tried to avoid the worry bubbling up in your chest, just focused on getting to your destination in one piece. You picked up your phone and noticed it was 4:53..you were set to arrive at 5:00PM. Almost there, you thought.

Serveral minutes later..

The jet landed, and you and Jesse had grabbed your luggage, you were overwhelmed by the amount of people standing on the balcony but you tried to feign confidence as you were surrounded by affluent people..First impressions always mattered.

Your eyes scanned everyone, and they all seemingly were in their own world or communicating with one another. You thanked the pilot and began walking towards everyone. And you caught the eye of two women.

Ellie Williams; Famous writer.

Abby Anderson; Professional car salesman.

They both looked at you, seemingly trying to get your attention, but you went towards..

Ellie.

Abby.

After greeting the woman, everyone walked to the back patio, leaving their luggage in the front. The people seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, what would they have to steal?

You eyed the flickering bulbs and the moths surrounding them, strung up over the whole patio. You stared at the reflection of them in the pool before standing by it to let everyone space themselves out. Now all you had to do was wait.

1 minute went past and everyone was conversing again, still waiting for the host to greet them.

2 minutes went past, still chatter.

3 minutes went past, thud. Wait—thud?

You turn your head and almost let out a blood curdling scream, but someone already beat you to it. One of the guests had hit their head on the hardened surface surrounding the pool, blood seeping out from underneath him.

Surely it was just an accident..right?

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

Text

Before I Leave you (Pt.53)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and jimin reach an agreement.

Tags: Pleasure dom Jimin, pillow princess m/c, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pussy spanking, excessive squirting, knotting, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Breeding kink, Jimin gets a little mean once he tastes her slick, slick-drunk minnie, talks of safe words but no safeword usage, talks of gender and sex, murder, talking ill of the dead, assassin! jimin, implied autistic! jimin, Flash Forwards, intentionally vague moments, brief mention of mommy/daddy kink, brief talks of clothing control

W/c: 10.0k

A/N: please be patient with me regarding the rut chapter ie the chapter after this one! i’m visiting my brother next week in LA so!!! please recommend me some stuff to do in la! i’m hoping it’s going to be a restful trip but ngl…it’s not looking great…. i don’t like planning things that other people are going to potentially not enjoy 😠 i’m meant to be a passenger princess threw and threw

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

(Flash Forward, 6 days after Namjoon’s rut, Jimin)

Jimin lays out the plastic sheeting with a ripple. Making sure it covers most of the corners and the baseboards of the back room of the house. Taking more effort than usual not to be messy.

It would look normal to anyone else as you watch him work from the hallway. But you have a lurch in your stomach as Jimin fucks with the plastic, making sure it lies flat.

Jimin setting out plastic sheeting would look totally normal to you if you didn’t have an inkling of all the other times he’s probably done it. How many times has he watched blood and viscera soak plastic? How many times has he melted it after at high heat to destroy DNA evidence?

You watch him work, feeling like you’re witnessing something you shouldn’t.

But today, if you happen to have an accident and drip paint onto the floor, Yoongi will refinish them anyways. You’re just glad you’re not painting the sunroom red.

That's the plan for the day. Primer, paint rollers, the whole shebang. They litter the 10 x 10 room like fallen soldiers. At this point, you've helped Yoongi paint just about every room in the house. This will be the last one for a little while.

The sunroom at the end of the hall is the last unfinished room in the house. Mostly unused due to its decrepit aura until now. The space is sunlit in the afternoon light, no longer dampened by the old dirty windows.

Today is the first day since Namjoon’s rut that everyone’s been out of the house. It’s just you and Jimin here. The quiet feels overfull, like something is lingering overhead, a storm or a fever yet to break.

Jimin straightens when he sees you through the mottled windows- not quite frosted but ripply, like looking through water. Yoongi put the doors back on finally yesterday after the workmen left. Hobi and Jin helped him hold the doors in place while he put them back on their hinges and you and Tae and Jungkook cooked while Jimin and namjoon opened all the windows to rid the house of the smell of strangers.

He was mindful of the strangers, as had the rest of the pack been yesterday with no less than 5 of them here. Tae’s hand had been practically glued to your lower back, herding you towards a secluded corner in the library room for some cuddling and a nap. Yoongi had been worried about them possibly breaking his labour of love.

They’re similar to the door he put in for Tae’s library only this one is varying textures of mottled glass, most opaque, but some clear with white ribbons or rainbow films like bubbles.

Yesterday was a little bit hard for Namjoon especially with his post-rut pheromones already elevated. But the windows are finally done, and no more strangers need to set foot in your house for the foreseeable future, and that’s something.

It’s been a race against time. As the temperature begins to plummet the windows have finally been tended to, the drafty space transformed into a sunlit puddle that captures the afternoon light like a suncatcher. Hopefully, it will help the pack wait out the winter months and fend off any seasonal depression which more than a few packmates are prone to.

Yoongi doesn't like to name names but Tae and Hobi are vulnerable that way. Like stout magnolia trees and pink echinacea their happiness is prone to bouts of dormancy.

You wandered in here with Yoongi and Jin last night after dinner to talk colors. A glass in each of your hands full of Sweet pink wine, the kind that Tae likes. She would have joined you, had the pack alpha not pulled her and hobi and a dejectedly shy Jimin into some alpha bonding time upstairs.

“We can’t paint every room in this house varying shades of pink hyung, even if it’s for Tae.” The word sounds especially sweet on Yoongi’s tongue; Jin is the only one Yoongi can ever call ‘hyung’. A special sort of pet name between the two of them.

The pack omega had curled especially close to your mate with you happily sandwiched between them. Your fingers hooked into Yoongi's pocket and Jin's sleeve. He'd pressed his pink button mouth to Yoongi’s easily, the way he’d kissed the beta a thousand times. And replied stubbornly “Why can’t we?”

Yoongi always aquiecess, even if he is a little stressed, “Remember Jungkook’s already chosen lilac for the outside. you’ll hate it if it clashes”

"I want to paint stars on the ceiling with glow in the dark paint and maybe the outside too!"

Jin had saved another special kiss for you, just as soft as the one he gave your mate. "Of course you do sweetheart." Yoongi had only sighed, and pulled out his phone to look it up.

They’d settled on a shade of salmon pink this morning when they went to home depot (and coffee, because any outing with the pack omega is sort of a date). the color is so light it looks almost white in the morning and honey in the afternoon. Not quite as dove slipper pink as the upstairs closet, or as muted terracotta as the pack’s bedroom.

There are several different colors of pink and red sitting by the doorway, mini bottles that the pack used for swatches. Not just pink but yellow too (the color you thought you wanted to paint your bathroom once upon a time) and dark teal blue (the color Yoongi had chosen for your bedroom).

Of course, no painting can happen until the ceiling is fixed. (Yoongi started peeling back the paint, intent to fix it before you started, only to find that the whole corner was rotted out. If Yoongi gets back from Home Depot with a drywall patch by a reasonable hour, you might be able to start tomorrow. until then, you and Jimin will prime the living daylights out of the trim.

Jimin spots you and flushes- a light pink on his cheeks a shade redder than the color in the paint buckets. “Hey,” he says, soft, pausing. Sheepish at being discovered.

“That’s not-“ you gesture to the plastic sheeting, leaning up against the doorframe. “For me, is it?”

“Yes,” Jimin says. Then he bobs, urgent when he realizes what you mean, what just the two of you in the house means. His grip on the screwdriver goes slack. “No! not in that-“ but then he sees your grin and realizes that you’re just teasing him.

His plush lips pout. Round and glossy like he kissed Tae earlier and hadn't remembered to wipe away traces of her lip gloss. Seeing that is enough for you to get a bit of pep in your step. “That really isn’t something we should even tease about-“ You drum your fingers on the doorframe smiling nonetheless.

He opens his arms, and you fold yourself closer to him, stepping over the layer of plastic and drop cloth, and- is that canvas? It’s pleasantly rough beneath your bare feet. His hands smooth up your tank top to your upper back. Your tank top hides very little of you- but Jimin supposes that’s half the draw. The thin straps don't give you too much support. He tries not to get distracted by the faint squish as you press your whole body up against his chest.

Before, he might not have really mused on the slight differences between hugging you and the others but now Jimin’s gotten used to calculating the differences in gender the last few weeks, more important now because it affects Tae. You nuzzle into his chest and then pull back, Jimin’s eyes are puffy, his scent is normal and his hair is washed but-

“You look...“ Jimin scrubs a hand across his cheekbones, trying to banish the slight haunted look in his eyes. Not like there's something weighing on him but weighing on his soul.

“I know I look like shit.”

“It’s okay, I like my alphas a little bit ruffled.” You tease, but your eyes flash from his face to his chest and back again. “Is it about Tae?” Jimin looks away rubbing his cheek. And you know that’s a yes without having him confirm it. Jimin's anguish and happiness can always be boiled down to her.

Especially given what happened during Namjoon's Rut.

“I wanted to ask you for something. A favor.”

You wait. Through the window you watch the trees bob in the wind, the train chugs passed, its lights as limey yellow as the ginkgo trees that lay interspersed with the pine trees on the edge of your property. Not quite as orange opulence as the tall maple tree that plunges your backyard in shadow. You watch as some of the oak leaves are tossed onto your narrow back lawn, a space that any of you rarely venture to because it’s steep and because it tends to be a little mossy and muddy.

Jimin tugs you to the floor, helping you sit cross-legged without teetering. The layers of plastic and cloth on the floor make it a little slippery and a bit squishy. It's a little bit more comfortable than it might be ordinarily.

Jimin hesitates and his scent goes sour, not exactly angry or overstimulated sour (the kind of scent you’re more used to when it comes from him) but more scared sour. Sharp and grating to your senses the kind of angry alpha scent that once upon a time would have had you ducking for cover.

You shuffle closer to him smoothing your hand over his knee. "Minnie, what's got you so spooked, why are you so nervous? You know you can tell me anything. Literally."

Your attempt at being funny does little to soothe him. Jimin talks quickly when he's nervous. A habit he definitely picked up from Tae.

“Like with you and Namjoon- like with his rut. I don’t want our first time to be in the heat of the moment. I don’t want to do this without thinking because I feel like- when I do that I fuck up, and I might fuck it up with you. If there are two things I’m most scared of it's fucking it up with you and Tae.”

But it's more than that. Jimin knows that since Namjoon's rut, Tae has pulled you into her favorite secluded corners of the house more often than not. That you've chased those hidden moments of pleasure with love confessions.

Is he surprised that you've begun to fuck like rabbits now? A little. Not because he's been excluded from it (Not excluded intentionally, it's just that you spend most of your moments together late at night or in the afternoon before he comes home, and he comes back to the house to find you both smelling sweet and sated.)

You haven't stolen his soulmate from him. It's more like you've uncovered a layer to her that Jimin hadn't even known existed. A flower that he just thought was a bud, a dandelion turned puffy-wish. Only more spectacular than that, because if Jimin could choose one flower to represent Tae it would take fields and fields of them, and probably Hobi's help to make the levels of pretty match properly.

Is it Tae's hormones? Tae has never been the most sexual creature, at least not compared to other packmates. Jimin practically wanted to live inside her skin. To consume his lovers again and again until their pleasure became a part of him.

It's not that Jimin's love language is sex (at least not the way Kookie might consider it his) It's just that there's something about the way he loves that's all-consuming. Perfectionistic almost. Jimin will love them well, and learn how to fuck them well- because he simply won't compromise for anything less.

Tae would say that there's something about the way that he loves that's all poetry. Not at all Plath or Service but maybe Wilde if Tae is feeling particularly sentimental for the person she’s doing her best to leave behind. In Tae's words- and she's written books and books of poems about Jimin at this point- Jimin's love is all:

Let me press my lips to your skin and make every inch known, my lips the pen and your moans the ink, let me show you how good 'good' can feel. Let me do it again and again until bliss feels boring. Let me claim your pleasure as proof of how much I am yours and you are mine. Let me make you hope for nights quiet. For afternoons spent in sheets. Let me make you scorn the morning.

But then again, you're the only one who's read Tae's poetry; so really Jimin has no idea.

Tae has always been the least sexually active of all the packmates, even compared to Yoongi. Jimin knows it’s a bit prejudiced; to think of Betas as being less sexually active especially when he knows the kind of kinky shit Yoongi liked to get up to before you. But there was a time when Tae's sexual activity outside of rut was few and far between. Jimin knows because he and Jin tracked it one year.

Which is why your cries of "Mommy! Mommy please" That Jimin has overheard on more than one occasion over the past two or three weeks- even before Namjoon's rut- coming from the library room- is so strange.

He'd noted the subtle sound of a chair creaking back and forth and a wet slap every now and then and had not had the strength to peer through the more translucent sections of the glass door. But the encounter had left him with his cheeks hot and his pants uncomfortably tight. A hot shower and the warmth of his own fist had left him feeling only guilty, not satisfied. It was the first time that Jimin had ever felt... unwelcome in the pack's escapades.

Maybe he's a little hurt too- because you hadn't come to him and asked to call him Daddy too. That special pet Name remains reserved for the pack omega.

The packs dynamic is also something that tae’s been mostly left out of, in the hierarchy somewhere in the middle in only the barest of terms. because tae has never been interested in the dominant and submissive shit the rest of the pack gets up to.

And yet Jimin doubts this is something you forced on her, doubts that anything about your relationship isn't organic and natural. Which leaves only one possible conclusion;

Jimin simply cannot fuck Tae the way you can. There is something more, that you do better when it comes to loving her that Jimin lacks.

It's stupid to feel insecure, Jimin has loved Tae for almost his whole life. But jealousy is only a secondary emotion when it comes to you and tae- the primary one Is relief. (and also guilt, but Jimin feels sort of guilty about everything so that’s barely a blip in his radar).

You can’t be scared of change forever. He can’t be scared of change when it’s staring him right in the face when you’re sitting pretty and cute and representative of everything Jimin wants not only for Tae but for himself too. Of course, just because you know how to give Tae what she needs doesn't mean Jimin should be complacent.

Jimin puts down the screwdriver, and the last bit of paint cracked open. “After this last week, It’s clear to me that I don’t know how to love women right.” You read into his words. And suddenly standing there feels a lot less normal, your back straightens, mouth falling into a little ‘oh’. There is a stain on the edge of your checkered gingham shorts, the kind you like to wear when you sleep. Suddenly it feels like it matters that you're not put together.

It's okay, Jimin's going to take you apart today anyways.

Jimin's eyes are intense and focused when he stares you down. “I want you to teach me- I want you to teach me how to make love to Tae properly- the way you do.”

Your breath comes in one stuttering gasp and-

Jimin promptly takes one of the tubes of paint, a light blue- the same light blue that you ended up painting the upstairs bathroom, and squishes it out onto the canvas below you. Near your hand but not on it.

The breath you were holding rushes out in a single jagged laugh, “Okay, now I’m lost- I thought the whole point of the plastic and drop cloths was not to get paint on them.”

The look he shoots you asks you to suspend your disbelief and tugs you closer by your knee, "Sit closer so that I can spread more around you." He starts dishing out the other colors. Enough careful drops of paint that it would take a lot of concentration to get out of the room without tracking dark blue or pink or yellow or red halfway across the house.

You wonder what exactly Jimin plans to do to you. Paint included. He puts out a spurt of yellow paint on your side and then another.

Surely sooner rather than later, noodle is going to wander in here in search of a pool of sunlight, track his paws or tail through the paint and leave pawprints everywhere throughout the house. Yoongi will probably complain about them, but you might make him keep them instead of washing them away.

When he’s finished, Jimin turns a yellow tube over in his hands. Back and forth, the cap flashing like a rising and setting small yellow sun. Jimin’s voice is low when he speaks, near reverent. “You’re the first woman I was ever with- that I ever knew I was with.”

It’s an admission and an admonishment, one that you and the rest of your pack have been tiptoeing around. Even though Tae’s a woman now she hadn’t always been. While new lines in the sand are drawn that doesn’t mean the old lines totally fade away. It will take a few more cycles of low and high tide to completely grow used to this.

Jimin fiddles with a small red tube of paint. “I’m a rigid person, I know I am. I don’t like change most of the time and I know, I know things shouldn’t be so planned, I know that’s not the way things usually go but-” You nuzzle close to Jimin, and his words extinguish into a sigh. His hands cradle your sides, the same place he always likes to hold, between your shoulder blade and your ribcage.

You peck under his jaw, “But you need them to be this way sometimes. Planned? So you can make sure everything’s done right?” You press. Mirth playing at the end of your sentence. Jimin is terribly fun to tease.

He bristles, “If you’re expecting me not to make loving you guys perfect when I can make it that way then-”

“You’re such a control freak Minnie.” You say it with a smile, playing your fingers through some of the milky pink white, feeling the tackiness between your fingers.

“You don’t hate it?”

You shrug. “Jin’s that way too sometimes. So no, I guess I don’t hate it. Maybe it’s just because I like- really fucking hate making decisions- so.”

He grimaces, but Jimin’s eyes dart from your face down to your crossed legs. settling on something. “Do you care if those clothes get dirty?”

“A little- I like these shorts.”

“Then you should take them off.”

Your heart thuds as Jimin leans over you, tugging on the strap of your Tank Top with his teeth, lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder, dragging them down. He plays at being sexy but decides not to be, settling for leaning his cheek on your shoulder and watching you.

“I had this stupid idea, if you don’t want to do it just say so. But this is every shade of pink that we ever painted the house. Tae’s favorite color is pink- and the canvas- I thought it might be nice to have like- some art in her library room- that’s what I meant about making it planned.”

“Are you saying you want to make sex art for Tae or something?” Jimin blushes yet again. You should be keeping track of how many times he has and use them for leverage.

"Her favorite color is pink." He says, like that justifies it. “And you know gift giving is like, my second love language if that bullshit is to be believed and-”

“-Oh my god you actually do want to make sex art!” your playful shove at his shoulders almost sends you spilling into a splotch of blue. But Jimin is as immovable as ever.

He leans over, growling, nipping at your throat- an alpha tired of being teased. “Do you really think it’s so strange that I want to remember this later, or do you just think it’s odd that I want to treasure you specifically?”

You lean, you’re awfully close to a splotch of yellow that he poured out. You don’t have a good answer for him, or at least- one that will make him stop looking a little sad.

He shouldn't be so surprised that you kiss him to avoid answering. And yet his hands hit a splotch of blue to support himself when he's suddenly made dizzy. Your laugh tastes sweet pressed to his mouth, and the quirk of your lips says ‘That’s what you get,’

You guess the floors need to be replaced anyway, and he's a trained professional when it comes to clean up so it’s not like it will matter if you and Jimin get a little messy here. If Jimin really wants to learn (and you have no doubt that he does) you’ll gladly teach him.

Unhurried kisses become your hands pushing his flannel off his shoulders. Laughing when you look down and realize you've definitely left pink all along the collar. Jimin has the perfect lips for kissing, soft and strong in all the right ways, his hands go to your hips then up to your waist and back again, and his kiss goes sloppy- like he’s distracted by the feel of you.

He separates briefly, to very carefully and neatly, take off your shorts and place them near the edge of the room where there is less of a risk of them getting ruined. Leaving you in just your little panties, you wonder if Jimin knows this is one of a set- that Tae has the other ones and is wearing them today.

(You might have decided to match today, getting ready in your bedroom. She might have liked picking out your clothes a little bit too much, heart fluttering at the idea that you’d be wearing what mommy wanted you to wear all day).

But then he surges forward, pressing a kiss to your lips gently except for the way that you can feel him get jumpy and nervous, and when he pulls back, he’s uncharacteristically shy. “I-“ Jimin is blushing, his cheeks rosy pink, like the buckets of paint have jumped up and left splotches there. “I wanted to come find you once I was done setting up- to kiss you and then-“ he tucks his face down not meeting your eyes.

“You love Tae so well,” Jimin sounds sick with it. A confession maybe, that you love her better than he ever could. How is it that you’ve mastered it? Jimin’s world begins and ends with Tae, and Tae’s world is all you colored these days. And yet, you love her better- love her more.

He leans forward holding your hip, hand hovering on that space between love handle and stomach. It's the first time in the night that you push back, covering his hand with yours and sitting back. “I don’t know how that feels on men but on me, that’s kind of ticklish and kind of anxiety-inducing so-”

“Sorry,” Jimin takes his hands off of you, flexing them, “Wait how should I do it then-” you make him sit back, straddling him, narrowly avoiding putting your palm in a puddle of pink paint.

You slide your hands up his waist to cup his ribcage, and you feel the frantic thudding of his heart under your fingers. “Like this, if you had tits, I’d be just barely touching them, right? Boobs on their own are not like- the most sensitive things to be honest, but if you don’t touch them strong at first and kind of tease around them- it makes it feels better.”

You sit back again, letting Jimin touch his fill, letting his hands rough in all the right places. His fingers skimming up your ribcage, cupping underneath them with a blush on his cheeks, pulling back carefully to watch your expression and make sure he's doing it right. “Yeah- like that” you ignore the way that your breath goes heavy but Jimin’s smile goes a little feline. Like he knows how affected you are but won’t call you out on it.

“Did you know- until you I thought I was like- truly only into men?” you shrug, as Jimin slips off your tank top reverently. The dusky rose of your nipple is so similar in color to one of the pinks he just placed, or is it closer to the rose brown purple that comes when you mix the swatch from the upstairs with the pack's bedroom? Jimin couldn’t tear his eyes away from you if he tried. There’s a fleck of it on the shorter baby hairs near your face too.

You tap your fingers across Jimin's shoulders, narrower and comparatively more feminine than Tae's. You don't like thinking of any part of her as particularly masculine, but her shoulders have always been particularly dysphoria-inducing for her.

It's sad to think that maybe if she looked a little bit more like Jimin and had his proportions some parts of her transition might be easier on her. You can only tell her she's got the proportions of a victoria's Secret model so many times before it starts to feel a little disingenuous.

“It always seemed a little bit nebulous to me- women, men- gender- secondary and otherwise." You shrug, and maybe that's not what Jimin expects from you. Especially with Tae- that you'd have more keen answers for the differences. Not that there were none between the secondary and primary sexes.

His fingers slide down your hip, petting over your hip bone. his touches exploratory, uninhibited as you talk. Waiting for you to check him. He leaves his fingerprints- yellow blue and pink, over the cusp of your hip, and you can tell you're smearing some color beneath you as you shift to let him have his way with you.

Your breath gets heavy as Jimin's touches get bolder and bolder. Petting up and down your thigh as he kisses softly down your chest, hair tickling your skin. He gestures to your boobs, “No biting?”

“Yes but also no. It depends.”

Jimin sighs, pulling himself closer to you, face level with your chest, nudging your nipple with his nose. “That’s frustrating, I’m used to penis rules. No teeth. not ever.”

You bark a laugh, and Jimin touches your chest softly, your nipples pebbled against his palms, a little heavy as he feels their weight. “They’re so-“

“Squishy? Soft?”

“I was going to say weird, why do you have pillows attached to your chest?” you slap his shoulder in retaliation but Jimin’s smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay” You mean it too- you don’t expect Jimin to adjust instantaneously. Maybe it’s too honest for you to confess it, but you understand how love and sexual attraction can be two different things. Jimin might love you because you’re you and might want to show that love in the way he knows how but that doesn’t mean your body won’t at first be very new and very odd to him. Sometimes it takes a second to properly enjoy the people you love.

Tae is the way you find yourselves back to each other. “Did you ever love a woman besides Tae? Before her?” A flash of red lips and a short black bob of hair runs through your mind, but you shove it down and away because no- desperation isn’t the same thing as love.

Jimin continues to touch your chest, his hands moving from cupping them to teasing at the nipple gently, probably the way he’s done to Jungkook before. You can’t say it doesn’t make your tummy start to tighten, the way he does it- unsure but eager.

“Yes and no, I think I had like- crushes maybe? In high school? But never like Tae.”

"Maybe that’s only because I started to love your soulmate after I knew. I never had to change the way I loved her like you did. You've loved her for a long ass time Jimin." Jimin flushes with that- the acknowledgment of it never feels any less lucky. Tae could have been loved by anyone- yet she chose Jimin. Tae has always felt like Jimin's own personal slice of heaven, the only piece he might ever touch.

Jimin looks at you and sees a second sliver, a second chance at salvation. “I've only ever loved her as Tae- not-” You don't say Tae's deadname. To utter it here among all this pink feels sinful when it's done in the name of loving her.

Jimin touches you so reverently, fingers skimming up and down your slit, finger pads pressing against your clit, gentle but explorative.

He watches you, watching your lips part in a soft gasp. The wet glimmer of slick builds, wetting the tips of his fingers. You're so soft and silky down there. knuckles pressed to your mouth to try and keep the sounds in, eyes fluttering shut. Very very pretty in the sunlit room where Jimin can see all of you, the soft fold of your stomach, the freckle on your hip, the one just under your chin.

If freckles hold all of the places that you were kissed in a past life, Jimin thinks you’re going to be covered in them for the next.

You're breathing heavy, but you still find the air to instruct him, “You're doing well- ah- soft touches like that make me feel- Tae likes to feel pretty. I don’t know if it’s like that with all women but-“ You grab his wrist but don’t tug it away, so Jimin keeps drawing endless circles on you, “B-but it’s like that with her. I called her cock pretty once and she came all over me on accident. Said it was just the hormones but-”

“She is really pretty” Jimin’s eyes go far away like he’s thinking about it. And you laugh to bite back a moan. You reach over, pawing at his pants and his belt, making him pull back to take them off not only to make your positions more equal but also because Jimin's all-black outfit is honestly being ruined by all the paint.

You lean back and watch him lift his shirt over his head. “I know! It’s honestly so annoying like- how is it that she was so pretty as a boy and as a girl- I’m honestly so jealous of her sometimes if we’re like-“ you break off. Going quiet wondering how much is normal to reveal. “Talking about gender and stuff.”

Jimin grips your knee, “If I keep going, are you going to tell me when I do something right and when I do something wrong?”

“Of course, but take off your pants first.”

He huffs, but it's all put upon "What a demanding little pup I've got. As you wish."

You’d forgotten that Jimin a quite frankly unfairly pretty cock. Pink at the tip and well-manicured. All of your packmates keep their downstairs area mostly trimmed- the furriest of the bunch being your mate and Namjoon. Somehow you thought Jimin might want to keep it wilder and yet he's smooth. Perfectly manicured.

“Her, but not you,” Jimin says, needing clarification but knowing the answer. your foot hits something wet smearing. The mess gets messier when he jerks you up into his lap, sitting you across it with an impressive show of strength. His cock is wet and hard and pink where it’s pressed against your thigh.

To be mean you arch your hips forward, dragging your clothed cunt across it, Jimin's lips part, and his scent goes thick, like melting vanilla ice cream or baking sugar cones.

The hair on his happy trail tickles your tummy, his hands supporting you as he sets you back against the drop cloth, making sure you don’t bang your head. Jimin holds himself over you, crouching low. “You don’t like to be called pretty- you like to be called cute,” he nips at your collarbones and makes your pulse quicken.

You squirm, but he settles you with a hand on your stomach. “You will get red paint in your hair if you’re not careful.”

He's telling the truth, you know you have to be half-covered with paint by now. You're doing a good job of making the canvas all pretty. He catches your hand, covered with different shades of pink and white spread across your fingertips, and kisses them anyways, a tiny splotch near the edge of his lips.

You’re worried. Of course you're worried about the effect your slick will have on all of them, especially Jimin- who's already at the mercy of his instincts on a good day. And yet, you let him pull himself down, knees sliding through pink and yellow and blue. Tossing your panties into some forgotten less paint splatter corner because they’re actually really fucking cute.

It’s like before Namjoon’s rut, the day you sub-dropped. When Jimin looks up at you to check that this is okay you have the same look on your face; half afraid and half nervous. Like you don’t want to say anything.

Loving Jimin is very good for you because he doesn’t let you stew in those emotions.

“You don’t have to be nervous. I want to do this, I’m not doing this just because I think you’re more likely to suck my dick later, or because I think you deserve to have your pussy eaten- that's last part is like 1/3 of it.”

"Are we describing love with fractions now?" you tease, trying to make it lighter. but your heart hurts, Jimin is so very good at making you feel comfortable. “I always have a hard time believing that.” You confess because today seems to be about honesty. Jimin kisses his way up your inner thigh. Leaving splotches of pink in his wake. “You guys are all so giving, it makes me feel selfish.”

Jimin presses a first slow kiss where you're sensitive. Slowly, Waiting, hurting for you to push him off. You don’t.

“It’s not like that,” he struggles with his words for a second but you’ll wait as long as he needs. “You know how sometimes when you eat food and it makes you full but it tastes so good you only want more?”

“Oh, great now you're comparing me to food" Jimin cuts off your words by pushing your knee to your chest. Unwrapping your pussy for him, the most sensitive part of you wide and open.

“Shut up you know what I mean.” He pales, “I didn’t mean like- shut up literally-“

“Minnie I’m just teasing. I’m not actually upset.” he huffs, but lets you laugh, back against the canvas. "Honestly, I’m just surprised. I didn’t think because of your whole 'I’m a gay alpha thing' that you'd ever want to fuck me. Or if you did we'd at least be with Tae.”

Contrary to what might be believed, the idea of Jimin only wanting you with Tae doesn't hurt you. The truth is that you have so many people now to please; you were sort of okay with Jimin and Tae being a package deal in the bedroom. If only because it makes things on your end slightly easier.

Jimin presses a kiss to your knee, “I want to do more than fuck you- I want to make you cum so many times you cry.”

Your stomach swoops, in a way that might just be you clenching a little at the idea of it. “I don’t think anyone’s ever fucked me till I cried, at least not in the good way.”

Jimin’s growl is a dangerous thing as he pulls himself up to look at you. There’s paint drying on your inner thigh and a whole puddle of it by your hip. And you know you must be a sight. Jimin’s eyes go cold, a little unforgiving at the thought of it and his scent darkens, almost imperceptibly.

You wonder how many people have seen him look exactly like that just before they’ve died under the same touch that makes your heart race. Jimin skims his fingers along your hand, gripping it after a moment, hard, tangled fingers stained with pink and red. Your love for Tae and your other, darker secrets.

“Remind me to piss on your ex’s grave next time we go into the city.”

Your laugh is a bright thing, and you miss Jimin’s smile when he pulls himself back down to your cunt. "In case no one's ever told you, I'm proud of you for killing him. I know it couldn't have been easy.”

You swallow, you don't want to think about that right now, probably the least sexy thing you've ever done. You don't want to think about any of that right now. “You really want to like- Make me cry?”

“Yes,” he says, and even you have to admit that you don’t find any ulterior motive or any sort of underlying motivation in his eyes. Other than wanting, something dark and roiling- an alpha with something to prove. A shaft of daylight cuts across his face, his body.

Jimin’s so pretty. You wonder if he’s this pretty in every universe.

“You’re welcome to try I guess,” Jimin’s fingers brush over the front of your pussy. Keeping his eyes locked with yours as he softly- ever so softly- pets over your pussy. Your breath hitches.

With one hand braced against you Jimin uses his other hand to brush back the top of your cunt, pinning your clit to your pubic bone. Your lips parting around his thumb, his other finger that just barely, teases the top of your hole. You grab his wrist, cursing low.

Every ounce of your self-control goes to keeping yourself from letting out so many embarrassing noises as Jimin draws light circles over your clit. Touching you firmer than before. “You get so wet so fast- it’s precious.” You squeak, jerking when he presses a little harder. Hand flinging out to grab onto something.

It sends a bit of pink paint splattering, and Jimin’s laugh bounces off the high ceiling. A little gets on the wall. You hope Yoongi won't get too angry at you. You and Jimin are going to make the canvases lovely, probably all blotchy and blended together, by the time you're finished here.

It’s hard for you to concentrate, Jimin’s fingers work so diligently, pushing against your hole even as his thumb digs into your clit, you grab his wrist, “gentle” you say, and he slows his pace, “the estrogen makes Tae-“ Jimin slowly drags his thumb down your clit then back up- the hard nub twitches under his touch. “Sensitive. You have to be gentle. Tae likes it gentle, and so do I sometimes.” He remembers the guise of this, you teaching him.

“Sometimes, but not all the time.” You nod, and Jimin continues his slow, torturous circles. “You can be a little bit rough. If it's too much I’ll tell you.” He nods obediently. “Safeword rules still apply?” you ask, because although this isn’t a scene, you can’t help but feel like you might need them.

You don’t know when you started to need them like a safety net. When it started to feel important to have them, But Jimin nods, agreeing. “Of course. They always do with me. I’ll hold you to them.”

The gentle small slap he lands over your cunt has you jumping, cursing, the skin hotter under his touch. "Jin told me you liked that."

"I do- fuck" Jimin alternates, loving the way your whole body jerks when the sensitive part of you is tapped. They're not even rough slaps but you bet the sound of slapping is sounding through the whole house. juxtaposed with the slow pressure that he rubs against your clit, your heartbeat is just under your skin. The slaps make your pussy more sensitive and especially hot when he begins to press kisses there too.

He draws his fingers into a pinch and then drags them up and down your clit, making your legs kick weakly. He does it again just to see you shake. figuring out the best way to toy with you, the quickest way to rile you up.

With cocks- Jimin is used to it being fast and wet and hard, but the slower he goes with you the more it seems to rile you up and push you to the edge. You shouldn’t be so surprised that someone so kissed by Cupid is so good at lovemaking too. (Tae has a thing for people touched by love, you should know by now to trust her judgement.)

His fingers press into your hole gently, crooking up with gentle pressure at the same time he lightly circles his fingers over your clit, fingers glossy with your slick, the glide of them wet and easy. “Do you belive I want you yet? or do i need to spank you cute pussy a few more times for the message to get across?”

You cum on Jimin’s fingers like that, clenching down on them as they press up. With him just sitting there, just watching, eyes transfixed on you. he taps over your clit once, twice, and then a third time before you’re arching away with a jagged exhale. You pawing at his hand to get him to stop or at least slow down.

but he’s true to his word, he doesn’t let you get far. His fingers grip your thighs the chub there dimpling like dough. “I was serious,” he says, eyes bright, “about making you cum so many times you cry.”

You wheeze, and he laughs again. You’ve never heard a laugh that sounded so hot, it’s kind of funny how it goes that way; the more you love someone the hotter the little things about them get.

“Lie back-“ he says, “just let me-” You do- because you’re honestly too boneless to protest right now. He pulls you by the hips through the mess of paint, getting it all on his elbows but he doesn’t care when confronted with you, stretched out like a meal before them. Clit pink from cumming, pussy lips hot under his touch from the spanking, wet hole twitching in invitation. Even though he’s seen you take Namjoon’s cock, it still looks so cute and tiny.

You've come back to yourself enough to tease him. Threading your fingers through his hair as he brazenly watches you. Dismissing the heat in your face as just a conciquence of your orgasam. “If you get paint in my pussy, you better help me clean it later.”

“I’d clean you with my fucking mouth.” He growls against the skin of your inner thigh.

Your retort gets stolen from your throat when he presses his mouth to you.

If you thought Jimin was good at kissing, it’s nothing compared to how he kisses your pussy. Making out with it, his tongue darts out, shy at first. Sending hot licks of pleasure up your stomach. his palm presses flat, against your hip spreading pink and red there. His hand smooths down your knee, and Jimin-

The thing about jimin is that even though he loves giving oral he's never explicitly liked the taste of cock. It was more the fact that it was Tae’s dick that made it good, or Namjoon’s or anyone else’s, that made him love the act of oral so much. Enough to beg for it during rut, to spend countless hours on his knees. To fall asleep during a rut with a soft length in his mouth, mostly Yoongi's, Jungkook's, or Jin's because they're on the smaller side. Happy to have them make his jaw sore.

There is no more complete show of devotion than an alpha getting on their knees for their pack. by comparison, kissing your pussy feels selfish.

At the taste of your, the grating buzz that’s always in his brain- the mental background noise of overstimulation. Like His awareness of the feeling of his knees sliding against the rough cotton drop cloth, the tacky feeling of the paint on his back drying, the tickle of his too-long hair brushing his ears. The vague soreness and hunger in his stomach from eating something that wasn't right earlier. All of that which usually grates on him, that which usually takes from him- all of it goes quiet when your slick hits his tongue.

Jimin's scent thickens, goes so thick it smells just as potent as it does when he's in rut, vanilla cloud covering you, making you leak more.

The second that your slick hits his tongue, the world fades into bliss. The bliss of clean black sheets, the bliss of fuzzy socks on a cold day, of Hobi's sweatshirt that's worn just right at the cuffs or Jin's nest after everyone's slept in it exactly 3 nights after changing the sheets, just enough for it to smell like them and not enough for it to feel dirty.

Your slick tastes like the buzz that fills his head when he touches Tae's hair, like comfort incarnate, when he touches her skin. He leaves his tongue in soft licks, licks that are more about tasting more than giving you pleasure. You don't really notice the difference.

You try to squirm away, clit still sensitive from cumming earlier, but leashes a snarl. Fisting your love handles. His nose brushes your pubic mound, eyes rolling back. Purely animal when he holds you and pin’s you. Fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises later.

Maybe they shouldn't have underestimated what 'addictive slick' really did meant. Because this jimin- is another monster entirely.

His senses, usually friable and bright, like sour candy- go sweet and soft and blissfully quiet. consumed with the quiet of you you you, your slick, hot and sweet on the back of his throat, your warmth, your skin your everything.

jimin wants to keep you right her, right under his tongue, forever.

he pushes your knees up roughly keeping you open and prone for him. You yelp, his teeth teasing at sensitive bits, “Minnie- fuck-”

The growl he lets out is possessive, loud, and echoic in the quiet house, vibrating pressed against your clit. It doesn't end, echoing until his voice goes hard and small.

Your clit is so hard and small. The perfect little nub for Jimin’s lips to toy with. they circle and mouth at it mindlessly. Sucking with gentle pressure just to feel it squish against his tongue. It twitches a little again.

Dicks and clits, they’re not all that different. Only this one- this one doesn’t make Jimin’s jaw ache, doesn’t cut off his breathing. This one's so small it lets him let out soft huffs pressed to slick skin, his hands go hard around your fluffy thighs, spreading pink. When he sucks again your hand goes from a puddle of white paint to his hair, painting it.

“Fuck- Jimin-”

All too soon you’re shaking, Jimin’s soothing growls making your pleasure spike wildly, especially when he looks up from between your thighs, eyes wild and hair messy,

You cum against his mouth. But this time when you try to squirm away Jimin pulls you back by your hips. You try to twist away, but Jimin doesn't let you go, yanking you back by your knees to bend over his face, keeping your cunt right where he wants it. His voice sounds darker, rougher- than you've ever heard it, "squirmy little omega, let alpha taste you. don’t you want to be good for me?"

Maybe you should have been more careful, but even at the rough treatment you drip onto the canvas, and you wonder if your slick will stain it too. You can do little more than rest your face against a piece of dry canvas and try not to cum again so soon. You don’t have the brain cells to respond, not when Jimin licks you like that.

Jimin continues to snarl, throat raw, “Poor little thing, like alphas tongue so much that it made you a little fucked out huh? A little dumb omega? You don’t have to worry pup, alphas got you. Alpha doesn't mind if you're a little messy, I'll take care of you.”

It takes you another orgasam before you're squirting. Your pussy's hot beneath his tongue, ravished and licked so much you can hardly keep your knees under you. Half supported by Jimin's hands as he keeps you on his mouth even as you try and squirm away and save yourself from the embarrassment. The hot gush of slick misses his mouth, trickling down his throat and wetting his collarbones. You'd be embarrassed if you weren't trying so hard not to pass out.

Jimin is going to turn making you squirt into a fucking art form.

But surprisingly, you’re just hiccupping not crying yet. So he keeps going. One orgasm bleeds into another, as one hour becomes two. Sometimes when you squirt, it's just a trickle, other times, it's wet and messy and almost /loud/ for the way that Jimin snarls. He tries every angle, palm pressed to your stomach, fingers inside of you pressing up just under his tongue, lapping at your clit like a lollipop, all of it.

even pressing in deeper, rubbing gently at the spot where namjoon bread you barely last week, a spot so deep that only your alphas have touched, that jimin strokes over just to hear you squeek. his mouth runs an endless trail of filth, sometimes it’s “you’ve got such a cute little breeding hole, so sweet i have half a mind to keep you plugged and full all the time, such a cute hole deserves to be kissed and fucked” other times it’s "give it to me, fuck- please- i need it-"

Your legs are jelly, trembling uncontrollably and Jimin's fingers are Pruny by the time it truly starts to get too much. He’s slick drunk and crazy on the drive to wrench one more orgasam from you. His cock lying hard and unattended against his thigh, dripping thick white cum. The pleasure fading from good to painful, one orgasm wrenched from your body after another, unyielding.

our clit is so sensitive that even his pressing the flat of his tongue and lapping at your clit makes you see stars, makes you scrabble against the paint-colored floor and try to get away.

"Can't take anymore," you whimper, "please alpha- s'too much."

Jimin pulls back, giving you a second to catch your breath, before he presses a hand to your lower back and forces you back down. "That's not a safeword pup. If you really want me to stop. Say it."

You hiccup, but you can't you can't safeword because you know deep down- you really do want him to make you cry. You really do what to see what lies over the next cup, the next minute he spends taking you apart.

It's the pussy spanking that finally takes you over that edge.

He's unrelentingly diligent with taking you apart, alternating between rubbing tight circles and tapping your clit as he suckles at your hole, wrenching another few drops of slick from you with every tap, until he pauses, and drags his teeth over you. You're already jerking away from sensitivity when he pulls back and lands a hard spank over your sensitive clit.

You think you actually might pass out for a second.

When you come too, there's not only a puddle underneath your hips- but also wetness on your lashes, your mouth, hiccuping sobs as the pleasures finally stopped, and Jimin, wet cheeks and all, licks your tears from your face too. “good omega, alpha loves you so much, such a good little pet for me.”

Jimin licks your slick from his lips, wet and messy from you, glossy almost, he bends down, prostrate, kissing the pink splotch on your tummy, “I swear to fucking god-”Jimin does swear to God, in the confines of his own head, that unless Tae gets that surgery in particular, your pussy will be the only one he ever tastes.

He pulls himself up to your level, answering the weak twitch of your arms with his own around your middle. You’re hiccupping too much to speak and shivering too hard to stay still. Your alpha is hot beneath your touch, the mess of your body and his body, not just paint but slick and sweat and tears, all pressed together like a balm to everything. The tightness in your chest released, you sob and it’s a good thing.

Something wretched and broken slips out, Jimin presses a kiss over your heart, covering you with his body, with no foe as witness, when there is nothing to protect you from.

The kiss Jimin presses to your mouth is just as soft as the ones he pressed to your pussy. You grimace at the taste of your slick, but Jimin is having none of it, cupping the back of your neck and soothing your cries with a few more kisses.

“Can you give me one more sweetheart?” His cock is pressing up against your hip, hot, dripping, and insistent. You sniffle but nod. You just want him close.

He pulls your hips through the mess of your slick, turning smudge of red paint all pastel-ly and more watercolor than acrylic as it bleeds.

He feeds his cock into your hungry entrance, still clenching hard around nothing. It feels like you’re still cumming. You don't know if Jimin kept track or if you could put a number to your orgasms if you tried.

You sniffle. And he tugs you along the warm line of his body. Nosing along your cheek. Keeping your bodies pressed close as he rocks his hip deep. Jimin’s stamina must be endless, each roll of his hips is punishing and firm, grinding the head of his cock in deep. He grinds more than thrusts, nudging the sensitive spots he explored with his fingers.

Jimin pulls your hands away from your face, looking down, fixing you with a look as he does it again, encouraging another weak pulse and hot clench.

Jimin gets more and more mouthy the closer he gets, he almost talks like Namjoon did in rut when he gets slick drunk. “Gonna fuck you so deep you feel it for days, gonna fuck you so deep there's no way it doesn't take, fuck- you’re mine- you’re fucking mine.” you let out a broken mewl and Jimin tucks his face into your shoulder.

Jimin doesn't need any schooling, he just needs to love Tae just like this, and they'll be fine.

Jimin grinds his hips in at just the right angle and it forces a rough brutal noise from your throat. A sob that he kisses away. He holds your hips using them for leverage as he breeds you. Hair hanging over his eyes and tickling your brow as he works you closer and closer. The canvas slides against the plastic, but even if you have rug burn later- it will have been fucking worth it.

“Fuck- I’d do anything for you.” You know it’s true. Despite what happened before. You know now all of that has changed now.

Your fingers leave red splotches against his stomach, and Jimin trembles. His body over sensitive from all the pleasure, from keeping his orgasam off for so long

“Would you kill for me?” You ask quietly. Jimin doesn’t stop his pace, doesn’t stop his movements.

You think about Yoongi and that night more than you’re willing to admit; You think about his face, bruised and screwed into a snarl, holding the gun to Geumjae but unable to pull the trigger. You know he couldn't for more than one reason; both because killing him could have killed you and because it was his brother.

But at the same time, You don’t know if one day the memory will ever make you feel anything but emptiness. A bleak almost disappointment. Sure- he’d been willing to bind his soul to yours to keep you alive. He’d devoted himself to you wholly and completely since but-

But maybe that was partially to ease his guilt. Guilt and love. Love and guilt. Are they really so different? Yoongi loves you. You know this as surely as you know that the sun will rise tomorrow. But even he hadn’t been able to pull the trigger. You had to do it instead.

"I'm proud of you for killing him, I know it must not have been easy"

Watching Jimin fuck you within an inch of your life, you decide you don’t know if that makes Yoongi a better man than Jimin, or a worse one.

Jimin leans his body low over yours, grinds his cock in deep, and presses his lips to your ear. “Kill for you? I’d do worse.” Jimin drives his cock deeper. Chasing his own release now, not just yours.

“For you and Tae, I’d do fucking anything.”

You squirt around his knot, just a trickle of it as it starts to inflate. He doesn’t stop fucking it back and forth, simple millimeters that tug more squirt from you as it fills you up and tugs at your sensitive entrance. You wet the red on his stomach with how hard you clench down making it dribble.

There’s even a splotch of red on his shoulder, milky white and crimson. Both of you are absolutely covered in paint.

Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever going to get tired of it as he takes a bit of your slick and presses it to his tongue. My sweet pup. our sweet pup the voice devoted to Tae reminds him in his head. Of course, she deserves the most delectable omega in existence, of course, this sweetness is worth protecting.

Of course, I’d kill for you.

It's your taste that drives him over the edge that makes his knot twitch and cum start to fill you up, locked deep inside of you. Your abdomen tightens against his as he cums. You’re so warm and wet, so comfortable as he rocks into you. knot too inflated to yank it out.

The instinct to breed and claim there as he drags his teeth up the Column of your throat and makes you keen. Your hand buried in his hair, the other resting between his shoulder blades, nails resting against his skin, tired of scratching although you’ve already left your marks on his skin. Up and down his back

Afterward, it’s comparatively quiet.

He flips you over so that you can rest against his chest. He’s warm and hot underneath you. Warm enough that you don’t feel the cold or lack of covering. Knotted together as close as you can be Jimin lets your sniffles quiet. His fingers paint mindless circles over your lower back as your breathing slows. Pressing kisses against the top of your head, your cheek against his chest, listening to the rapid thud of his heartbeat slow.

Even though you’re quiet, your mind races. Slowly treading toward dangerous territory. Tae’s voice, the memory of Tae’s words- “Minnie. I don’t think I want you to touch me right now, please just- please don’t”

It’s you who dares to punctuate the quiet. “Did you want to do this because of what happened during Namjoon’s rut?”

“Maybe.”

You lift your head, “Have you and Tae talked about it yet?” Jimin tips his throat up towards the ceiling, the cracked plaster that Yoongi hasn’t yet fixed. Avoiding your gaze. He just ate you out, but he can't look at you when you ask about this.

Jimin’s hand continues its endless circles across your sternum, winding down and down.

“To be honest, I don’t know if we’ll ever talk about it.”

~-~

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natashaslittlegirl · 1 year

Text

The contract - Romanoff's Assistant

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI +18 ONLY.

Summary: It's your first day working in Romanoff's Company

Boss ! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant ! Reader

Warnings: none

Natasha Romanoff's Masterlist RA Masterlist RA Account Chapter II aesthetic

This morning hits different, you got up earlier than usual. You start dressing yourself up with your choosen outfit from the night before, well, from friday when you got back from the interview actually. Dress pants and black shirt, leather boots and as always your beige coat, it's your lucky charm, but don't say anything because otherwise it won't work.

You leave your apartment but not before feeding and giving Lena lots of kisses, this cat is going to be the death of you because of so much cuteness. So little and cuddly. You love when she comes and sits on your lap purring for you to caress her, so delicate, you love her.

You're walking along the avenues, luckily you're not that far from the coffee shop or work now. You make a quick stop, look at your applewatch, 7:45am, you still have time. Kate smiles at you when she sees you arrive. "Morning, girl! The usual?"

"Yes, please, and a coffee with almond milk, extra hot without sugar and the cup 70% full, please."

"So you remembered Romanoff's request, huh?" she looks at you with mischief in her eyes, oh, you certainly forgot to mention, that she already knows you have a little, not so little, crush on Miss Romanoff, that's why the look. You remember your call from friday evening.

While you waited for your lasagna to heat up, you grabbed your phone and dial Kate. "I got the job!" she screamead and you had to move the device away, otherwise it would make you deaf.

"No way, you little lucky ass!"

"Yes, I don't even know how, what if it goes wrong?" you start to doubt, "Miss Romanoff said one mistake and I'm screwed, help."

"Don't be stupid, Y/N, you'll do fine, relax." Well yeah, you don't even started yet. "I imagine you've had your eye on her."

"I mean, could you blame me? She's beautiful." Miss Romanoff is beautiful indeed.

"She's hot," so hot "you already have a crush on her, don't you?"

"I can't lie to you."

You two talked a little more until a line of customers formed and Kate can't make six coffees at the same time, you doubt it.

"Kate," you let out a sigh, "I'm her assistant, the first thing I have to do in the morning is get her coffee, also, so do you."

"Okay, okay, whatever you say." she says as she prepares the coffees. You hand her the money and look at you watch again before she pass them to you, 7:53 am, shit, you need to hurry.

"Thank you Kate!" she waves back and you walk out as fast as possible, god these boots are not for rushing. But you got into the building and reached the elevator on time, 7:58am.

Fuck, hurry up, please. You mentally said to yourself, cursing the machine. You got to the twenty-seventh floor at 8 o'clock, ugh on time. You leave the coffees on your desk and wait for Miss Romanoff to show up.

You turn on the computer and go through the agenda, it's already organized so you don't have to do much. Not even five minutes pass and Miss Romanoff makes her entrance, how can this woman look like this at eight in the morning?

"Good morning, Miss Romanoff," You get up from your chair and grab her coffee, "I brought you coffee." she looks at you up and down as she takes the cup, taking a sip of coffee with a smirk on her face.

"So, coffee the way I like, you're on time and you're presentable."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff."

She goes on her way to her office and you go yours to the desk. You continue making appointments in the agenda and suddenly it's already 10am, how fast. You see that Miss Romanoff has a charity event offered by the Stark family and needs confirmation, you write the event in the agenda, the computer and on a post it in front of her, to much, huh? Interrupting your thoughts, you get a call saying Miss Romanoff is needed on the 5th floor.

You head to her door office, you can't see inside but you know she can sees you. knock twice waiting for her to let you in. "Come in" you hear her say and you walk into her office closing the door behind you.

"Miss Romanoff?" she looks up from her and scans you.

"Yes, Y/N, what's up?"

"I wanted to inform you that this Friday you've a charity event offered by the Stark family, it requires confirmation and they need you now on the 5th floor" You say and wait for her response.

"Thank you, confirm my invitation and yours too and call the 5th floor, tell them I'm coming, look for me in fifteen minutes, I'm busy and I don't want to waste time." She stops and takes some papers with her, you step aside and open the door for her to leave, you see her go to the elevator and disappear once it closes the doors. You send the confirmations to the event, but you didn't know that you'll have to go.

When trirteen minutes pass you call the elevator and play the 5th floor to get Miss Romanoff back, you arrived and started to looking for her in the hallways. She didn't said where you were suposed to look for her. Passing the cubicles separated by glass panels, a woman comes out and you take the opportunity to ask her about Miss Romanoff.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, Miss Romanoff's new assistant, can you tell me where she is? She needs to attend to an important call."

"Hi, I'm Debbie, nice to meet you. Yes, she's down the hall with Lou, the accountant."

"Thank you very much, it's a pleasure for me too" you walk to the end until you find the accountant's office, knock twice and wait for the order to enter. You hear gasps and don't want to imagine what they are doing inside. You hear a 'come in' and take a deep breath before going inside, for your surprise, Miss Romanoff is sitting in front of the accountant's desk and the other woman is standing serving two glasses of water.

"Y/N, what's up?" She turns her head around to look at you.

"Miss Romanoff, you have an important call, they said it can't wait." She rolls her eyes, is she kidding?

"Y/N, this is Lou, our accountant" She points the other woman and then you, "Lou, she's Y/N, my new assistant."

"Nice to meet you, Miss"

"The pleasure is mine, darling." She smiles at you, making you gulp, Miss Romanoff therefore, looks at the other woman and rolls her eyes again. She gets up from her chair and walks out with you. You both reach the elevator and go to your respectives offices.

You spent the rest of the day reviewing plans, events, and trips. Schedule and rearrange appointments for tomorrow and when you look at the clock it's already 5pm, you hear Miss Romanoff calling you into her office.

"You called me, Miss Romanoff?" You stand halfway at the door.

"Yes, come in and close the door." You do what she says and stay standing in front of her desk, you just hope you didn't do anything wrong. You feel nervous remembering that everyone must be leaving by now. Well you don't think you'd done anything wrong.

"I want to talk to you about something, Y/N," you gulp "sit down."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff." You do what she says and sit with your legs crossed.

"Don't be afraid, you didn't do anything wrong. I called you so we can talk about the contract, payment, schedules, and I need some confirmations from you." She grabs one of the two folders in front of her and hands it to you.

You open it and the first thing you see is my salary, you don't know if you're dreaming or if you're seeing things wrong but here it says 120k, you didn't even think that the assistants earned that much, you expected 60k at the most.

"Miss Romanoff?"

"Yes, Y/N." you look at her

"Is this amount serious?"

"Yes, do you prefer monthly or fortnightly?" oh god I can't believe it.

"Monthly? I thought it was yearly," you whispered under your breath, "Monthly is fine, Miss Romanoff." She noted something in her folder, which you guess must have the same documents as your.

"Okay then, go to page three," You turn to the page and read, your schedules Mon-Fri 8am-5pm, Sat 9am-1pm, lunch break one hour, any time you choose. "Are your schedules okay with you?"

"Yes, Miss Romanoff."

"Perfect, we already have the basics confirmed. I need you to tell me if you are willing to go on business trips, go to events, meetings and all this kind of thing. Everything is detailed on page 5 onwards, you don't have to answer me now, tomorrow you can bring me the signed folder with what you can do and what not. You will also have a card in your name for expenses that we make on trips and for the clothes that I ask you to wear, is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss Romanoff, all clear"

"You can go, Y/N." You got up from the chair, grab the folder and go to your office, find your handbag, put on your beige coat and walk to your apartment.

You arrived and left everything on the table in front of the couch, You went to your room to take off your clothes, take a shower and put on your pyjamas, the black short silk with lace edges, you love it, it is very confy.

There is nothing you like more than a relaxing shower, leaving there smelling like vanilla, how nice. You go back to the kitchen. It's 8:45 p.m. dinner time. You open the fridge but you find it empty, you must've forgot to do the groceries again, well, pizza will be. You order and while you wait for the delivery you go to pour yourself a glass of white wine. You receive the pizza, pay and go to the couch and find Lena in a super adorable position, picture worthy, she's very cute.

While you eat, you read the contract, it seems like a very good offer, obviously you're going to take it.

Passport. Yes

Travel in the country. Yes

Travel abroad. Yes

You keep reading and you find everything reasonable, you ended up marking everything 'yes' and you send Kate if you have a work trip if she can take care of Lena.

Kate ☕

Of course I'm going to take care of that adorable little kitten

Great, one less thing to worry about.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

#Romanoff's Assistant #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen #black widow #elizabeth olsen smut #lizzie olsen #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #natasha smut #natalia alianovna romanova #mommy natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader

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sebbyisland · 1 year

Text

A One-of-a-Kind Affection: Skip to Loafer 53

This chapter revealed a LOT about Shima’s character so let’s break it down because oh my god. OH my god.

As was implied in the last page of the previous chapter, Shima is seriously put off guard by his conversation with Fumi. He can’t get over her comment: “Mitsumi-chan isn’t good at anything besides studying, is she?” She directly contradicts how Shima views Mitsumi, and thus prompts him to reevaluate his feelings.

To him, Mitsumi “has this image of always being right.” Keep in mind, Shima has already seen Mitsumi at her worst— from the very beginning, when she got lost in Tokyo! Shima has been there when Mitsumi failed, struggled, or was embarrassed with herself, and each time he only saw the girl who could pick herself up and run towards her goals, loafers in hand. He not only watched these things happen, but tried to give her a helping hand when she needed it, whether it was to encourage her, or help smooth out an awkward social situation. When Shima says Mitsumi “has this image of always being right” he doesn’t mean she is literally always right, but something with much more depth. Shima thinks Mitsumi, as a person, is fundamentally always right and good. Even when she fails. Even when she struggles. These are all things that make up Mitsumi, and therefore are always good (this guy. i can't).

The thing is, Shima himself is not even aware of just how highly he thinks of Mitsumi. He can acknowledge Mitsumi’s strengths and weaknesses, but unlike, say, Fumi, her closest and longest friend, he can't conceptualize objectively seeing Mitsumi's traits as anything other than positive. He likes her personality to the point it borders on putting her on a pedestal. This discrepancy between his opinion on Mitsumi and another close friend of Mitsumi causes him to question who IS Mitsumi, if not what he's been thinking this whole time?

To verify, he asks his friend Mukai, who basically repeats Fumi's words. Now Shima knows this is not a question of who is Mitsumi as a person, but who is Mitsumi to Shima?

(Shouout to Mukai for really helping Shima reach this critical break-through!)

When Mukai brings up the possibility of romance, Shima leaps to reject it because he is uncomfortable with romantic attraction itself.

Besides Mitsumi, romantic attraction always came from people who didn’t really know him and/or didn’t really care to know him. This had the opposite affect, and made Shima feel lonely and unloved. Unlike the most of the people Shima has dated, he actually really likes Mitsumi-chan as a person. There's an emphasis on liking her as a person because these are things he sees as absent or optional in romantic attraction. To describe his feelings for Mitsumi as romance discredits Mitsumi and what she means to him, which is why he asks with a frustrated expression, "Why does it always come back to romance?" Why does "liking someone a lot" have to be romantic?

Mukai hears this and recognizes that Shima seems to see “liking someone as a person” and “liking someone romantically” as separate things, so he tries to compare notes as to how he views romance vs how Shima views romance. On a scale of liking someone "a lot" to "not really" Shima places romance at the very bottom! Romance doesn't mean shit in comparison to friendship, or whatever it is he feels for Mitsumi. This makes sense because, again, Shima understands romantic attraction at best as a surface-level understanding of a person, and at worst as a detriment to the relationship(see: his parents). So there's no way he can like Mitsumi romantically AND as a person.

Mukai explains to Shima that he sees "liking someone as a person is a baseline," which aligns more closely to the common social perception of relationships. You start with liking the general vibes someone has, and then you becomes friends, and then becoming lovers is like the peak of a relationship's level of intimacy and affection. What's interesting is that both boys are correct about their perception of love. Even though Shima doesn't fully agree with Mukai, talking with him provides a new perspective on romance that Shima didn't consider before. Now he can finally consider that romance can add to a realationship's existing intimacy, not detract from it.

For most of the people in the story, as well as the audience, this might seem obvious, but for Shima this is incredibly novel and important, because it means that

Liking Mitsumi romantically doesn't mean he stops liking her as a person

Romantic attraction is another form of intimacy, not a performance or surface-level interaction.

When Mukai describes Mitsumi's feelings as a "one-of-a-kind" affection, he means it in a conventionally romantic way. Shima, on the other hand, understands Mitsumi is one-of-a-kind because he's never had a relationship or feelings like he does with her. He knows Mitsumi cares about him as a person, but before his conversation with Mukai, he didn't consider how romance can be another way of showing that you care for someone.

Romance between his parents only showed how much his father didn't care about his mom. Romance with the girls from school only showed how much they didn't really care about him. But Mitsumi fell in love with Shima because she cares about him, not despite of it. This is completely foreign territory for Shima. If romantic love is also a form of intimacy, then how is that any different from regular platonic love, or best friends? What does romantic attraction even look like?

As Shima recollects all the moments with Mitsumi that are dear to him, he wonders if what he viewed as "caring for someone as a person" were also romantic. Is it romantic to save extra food for someone else to have? Is it romantic to bring someone a souvenir when they go out of town? Is it romantic to teach someone how to hold a crab? These questions don't really have clear cut answers. Only Shima is able to decide what these things mean for him.

I want to bring your attention back to this crab, though. Besides being an adorable little crustacean, Shima's interaction with the crab directly parallels his journey trying to recontextualize romance.

In this scene, the crab is symbolic for romantic attraction. Shima awkwardly holds the crab Mitsumi gives him and expresses that this is an unfamiliar situation for him, just as receiving romantic affection from Mitsumi is a new and concept for him. Mitsumi is content with being able to share the crab (her feelings) with him and getting an honest answer back. The large panel that zooms in on Mitsumi looking down at the crab in Shima's hands draws attention to how content and happy she is spending time with Shima. It further emphasizes that their relationship, romantic or platonic, is about simply enjoying each other's company.

Even though Mitsumi tells Shima how to hold a crab, he ends up agitating the crab, which then pinches him and leave. I interpret this as when Shima initially started dating Mitsumi, he ended up treating it haphazardly, which caused Mitsumi to catch-on and break up with him. Finally, when Mukai, the person Shima was recently discussing romance and Mitsumi with, asks him about the crab, Shima responds in a daze, "I don't know," mirroring how currently, Shima doesn't know how he feels about romantic attraction, or how it might apply to him.

Furthermore, through the depiction of Mitsumi in Shima’s perspective, it’s implied the reason the crab pinches him is because he was focused on Mitsumi, and not holding the crab properly. This reflects the critical miscommunication from when they were dating. Shima was so concerned with protecting his prior dynamic with Mitsumi that he didn’t consider what committing to a genuine romantic relationship would require from him. He didn’t, or rather couldn’t, commit to a relationship as much as Mitsumi did. Mitsumi knew that she didn’t deserve that kind of stress, so she asked to remain friends.

Thanks to Mukai, however, Shima can start to understand that romance is a real option for his own feelings about Mitsumi, and it won't detract from their friendship if it is the case. It's this level of self-awareness that allows Shima to get flustered by Mitsumi getting physically close to him as they look at the crab.

I would even argue that it was the panel I have pictured on the left, with Mitsumi's smile, that is the moment Shima started getting flustered, since that panel is positioned to be in Shima's eye-line point of view, and takes up the majority of its page.

What is Shima thinking in this moment? He has 0 thoughts. Brain empty. Only one-of-a-kind feelings for a girl who he thinks is always amazing<3

I wanna reiterate this is truly such a special moment for Shima because while Mitsumi has always been a special person to him, he now understands that he thinks so because of his PERSONAL feelings. In caring for Mitsumi, Shima is able to care more about his own feelings. It’s a lovely payoff to all of his progress in understanding himself as an individual. He can discuss his personal life with Mukai, a friend who he previously kept at a distance. He can l stand up for himself when he thinks he being mistreated by an old friend. And he can even defend the people he cares about when other’s are inconsiderate to them. This is all part of Shima’s growth into becoming a fully realizing individual, and I’m so glad he’s been given the space to clumsily process all of this while remaining a true friend to Mitsumi.

TL; DR:

Shima truly adores Mitsumi and has only just realized that he likes Mitsumi to a different degree than what would be expected from a friend

Shima has been nonchalant about romance thus far because he didn't think romance was really about genuine intimacy, especially based on his past experiences

The narrative presents Shima's interest in Mitsumi as romantic attraction while taking great care in showing how romance has different meanings for different people and is not always the most important or intimate aspect of a relationship

#NO BECAUSE I CAN'T FUCKING DO THIS ANYMORE #skip to loafer #skip to loafer 53 #shima sousuke #skip to loafer manga #seb out #ON PRIDE MONTH ?!?!#AROACE SHIMA RIGHTS LETS GOOOOOOOOO #ወሬ

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justagalwhowrites · 9 months

Text

New in Town - Ch. 6: First Make Up

You and Joel come to an understanding. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-5 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Angst. Smut, alcoholism, child neglect (mentioned, not thoroughly described.) No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 8k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Last Thursday

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Shit.

“It’s so good to see you!” His smile was broad and looked genuine, not that you really bought it. He hugged you and your arms hung limply at your sides for a moment before you lifted a hand and patted him lightly on the back. “Missed you like crazy!”

He pulled back from you and looked you up and down.

“Why don’t you look happy to see me?”

Because you weren’t.

“Just shocked,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t just stop by and see you when I’m in town?” He was damn near pouting. You tried not to roll your eyes. He was 53 goddamn years old and he was pouting. But that wasn’t a surprise, you were pretty sure he’d stopped maturing at 18. “You can come see me whenever you’d like, don’t need to call or anything, not that you ever do…”

“Oh, that’s rich,” you snapped before the glint of the sun off the glass door of your office building caught your eye. The client you were taking to lunch was heading right for the reception desk. You closed your eyes for a second and sighed. “Look, I don’t have time for… whatever it is you’re showing up here about.”

“I can’t just come to see my best girl?”

He was all but pouting again.

“We both know that’s not why you’re here,” you said. “Sit here, in the lobby, until I get back from this meeting. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t touch anything, we can talk about this when I’m done.”

“You really think I’m going to make that big a mess in, what, an hour?” He raised his eyebrows at you. You glared back.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. I mean it, Dad. Just… Don’t fuck something up. Please.”

“Angel,” he took your shoulders in his hands. “It’s going to be different this time. I mean it. Go to your meeting, I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Different this time. Sure. That was the chorus you’d heard again and again, every three years or so when he popped out of the woodwork and managed to track you down again. This time he had his shit together, this time he had a job he was just about to start, this time he was sober and going to stay that way. And every time he managed to blow at least part of your life up.

You heard your name being called from reception and you pasted a smile on your face, heading to greet your client, trying not to think about the fact that your dad had managed track you down yet again.

The lunch went surprisingly well, considering the fact that your brain was busy running through every damn scenario possible for why your dad had decided to show up and every way he could find to fuck your life up this time.

To his credit, he was sitting on the couch in the lobby, scrolling through his phone when you got back. He didn’t even notice you come in. You went to reception and Norah, the woman working the desk that day, confirmed that he’d sat there quietly for the two hours you were gone.

You sighed. Maybe he was going to make an effort this time. There was a first time for everything, you supposed.

“Alright,” you said and he looked up from his phone and smiled. “I have a few more things to take care of today, think you can behave yourself while I work?”

“You realize you’re the kid and I’m the parent, right?” He asked, getting up.

“Don’t know why that should start now,” you muttered, leading the way to the elevator.

He didn’t say anything back. Which you reluctantly gave him credit for. You’d been trying go goad him into it, antagonize him and push him into snapping so you could wash your hands of him. Apparently, he wasn’t going to let you.

You pulled out your phone when you got to your desk, your dad settling into a chair in the corner, pulling out his own phone and silently returning to it. You watched him for a moment.

To say your relationship with your father was complicated was putting it pretty fucking mildly. He’d never been in your life in any meaningful way. He came and went like the seasons did, eventually even adopting a similar regularity.

He cropped up every three years or so now and, since the last time you saw him had been before you moved to Seattle, you were due for him showing up and running roughshod over your life.

In past visits, he’d emptied your bank account, invited some “old friends” over who ended up being random men he’d met at a bar who then trashed your apartment, showed up to an event at your office so drunk that he threw up on another guest.

Every time, he claimed he wanted to see you. Spend time with his “best girl” (only girl - he had no other children and no woman would have him for longer than a few days), catch up on everything he’d missed when he was busy fucking around, moving from couch to couch until wore out his welcome, burning every bridge at every job he’d ever had.

No, you didn’t trust your father as you could fucking throw him. And you sure as hell didn’t want him anywhere near Joel.

That relationship was too new to bring him into the shit show that was your family, the stuff you tried so hard to hide that you all but lied about even having family to begin with. When talking to Joel about it, you’d just shrugged and said “No siblings, my parents have been gone for a while, no other family to speak of.”

You knew what he’d assume with the word “gone.” The same thing everyone else did: that they were dead. They weren’t. They were very much alive, they were just dead to you. Your mother was in Wisconsin, your father was… wherever the fuck he happened to be at the time. Which, right now, was Austin. In your office. And you had the sickening feeling that, if he actually knew Joel existed, he’d find a way to ruin it.

You sighed and texted Joel.

“So sorry, something came up at work. Can’t see you tonight.”

It technically wasn’t even a lie. Something had come up. And that something had come up at your work.

It still felt like a lie, though, and it turned your stomach to lie to Joel. Even though you knew the best, safest option was to keep him far, far away from that part of your life. Your phone buzzed.

“Shit happens. I’ll miss you. Tomorrow night?”

Fuck, you wanted to be able to see him tomorrow night. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment. You wanted to be able to say “Yes, absolutely, I’m going to need you to fuck whatever is about to come up with my dad out of my head so I don’t go insane. Also, I think I’m falling in love with you but let’s talk about that later.”

Instead, you set your phone down again.

You answered a few emails, sent the details of the potential contract you’d secured with the client at lunch over to that department, reviewed some copy that your team was slated to present to clients early next week. Your dad sat in the chair, not saying a word, just as you asked. You stalled as long as you could before you turned in your desk chair to face him. You put your head in your hands for a moment, pressing your fingers into the hollows over your eyes before you sighed and folded your arms in front of you.

“Alright,” you said. “What are you doing here.”

He put his phone down on the small table and smiled a little at you.

“Meant what I said before,” he said. “Missed you, Angel. Wanted to see you, spend some time with you…”

“How did you even know where I was?” You cut him off.

“I called your mom last week,” he said. “She said you’d moved here, that you had some fancy job down this way. She was real proud of you…”

“So that’s why you’re here?” You asked, brows raised. “Think you can get something out of my ‘fancy job’?”

“No, Angel, of course not,” he actually looked hurt by it. As though he hadn’t stolen thousands from you just six years ago. “Look, I know that I haven’t been the best father.”

“That’s an understatement.”

He ignored your comment.

“But I’m doing better now,” he said. “I really am. I was in prison for a bit…”

“You what?” You demanded, sitting forward in your seat. “Jesus Christ, Dad, what did you do?”

“Same shit I usually do,” he smiled a little, sheepishly. “Staying with a friend and I… uh… helped myself to some of the cash they had lying around. They weren’t thrilled with that so they called the cops.”

“Shit,” you sat back in your chair and closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, before looking at him again. “So what happened, did you have a good attorney?”

“Nah, just a public defender,” he waved you off. “She was a nice lady but didn’t exactly have much time for my case. I pled out, got myself two years…”

“You could have called,” you said. “I could have helped you, I went to school with some people who became pretty fucking good attorneys…”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said.

“Never stopped you before.”

He ignored that, too.

“It ended up being good for me,” he said. “A blessing, really. Being inside forced me to actually sober up. For real this time. Haven’t had a drink in 27 months.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Good for you,” you said, not even sarcastically.

“Got my GED too,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “I know it’s late in life but I want to try and do something right. Get a real job, actually do something with myself. Maybe pay you back, even though I know it won’t make up for all the shit I’ve put you through over… well, your whole life.”

You nodded slowly.

“So are you just out or are you on probation?” You asked.

“Probation,” he said, wincing slightly. “Actually told my probation officer that I’d be staying with my kid…”

And there it was.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You can’t just…”

“I know,” he said. You ignored him.

“Remember that time, when I was 10 and Aunt Sue dropped me off at your place for what was supposed to be your weekend?” You snapped. “And you and all your buddies were so off your ass drunk and high that I ended up going to a neighbor’s house to see if they had food because I hadn’t eaten in two days? Because I sure fucking do, if you think I owe you something, that I’m going to baby sit you because you knocked my mom up…”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “I know that. I do.”

“Do you?” You asked. “Because it sure seems like you think you can just come in here and fuck up my life on a whim and you think I’m just going to let you!”

Your email dinged and you sighed, going back to your computer. One of your copywriters had a question about a client and you tried to focus on reviewing the creative brief before responding and going back to your dad. You took a deep, calming breath.

“What is it you want.”

“What I’d like,” he said slowly. “Is to stay with you for a little bit while I find a job. It’s OK if you don’t want that, Angel, it really is. But I’d like to get to know you. Actually get to know you. But I’ll call my probation officer and tell him right now that I’m going to need another place to go, it’s OK. He’ll help me figure it out, he’s a good guy. I’m not trying to be your responsibility. It’s a little late to try to be your dad. But I’d like to be something to you.”

You just looked at him for a moment. He seemed so… genuine. Actually sincere. And he didn’t smell like liquor or look strung out.

You sighed.

“Alright,” you said. “You can stay with me for a bit. Just through the weekend to start, no promises after that.”

He smiled.

“I’d really like that.”

You took your dad home with you that night, picking up tacos on the way to your apartment. You’d gotten a two bedroom place, at least. Not because you ever had guests - you never had guests - but because you worked from home sometimes and you wanted the office space. At least the couch you’d bought for that room was a sleeper sofa.

You texted Joel again while your dad was in the shower, hating that you weren’t going to see him tomorrow, either. But if your dad was actually doing well, actually going to try and be a functional adult you could have a real relationship with, you owed it to him to try.

Still.

You didn’t trust him. Not yet. Especially not with something like Joel.

It was kind of surreal, having him in your apartment, doing anything but looking for a way to fuck you over. Consciously, you knew that’s not what it had always been. He’d often started with good intentions. You knew he didn’t set out trying to steal from you or embarrass you in front of your coworkers. He just didn’t know how to function in the life you lived. No one from your childhood did. He’d try, for a few days, and then he’d fall back into old habits.

But this time was different. Or seemed different, at least. You hoped it was different.

You watched a movie with him - Spaceballs, something he loved to watch with you on the rare occasions he was around enough to do things like watch movies with you when you were a kid - and he told you a bit about everything that had happened in the three years since you’d last seen him.

For a change, he seemed genuinely interested in what you’d been doing since then, too. He’d never even known that you were in Seattle - something that you found oddly comforting but strange all at once. Strange that this person who made up half of who you were was so distant that he didn’t know where you’d lived two years of your life. That if something had happened to you, he wouldn’t have known. Something had happened to him. You hadn’t known that, either. You weren’t sure if you regretted that or not.

“I do have to work tomorrow,” you said as you wound down for the evening. “Do you have a plan or anything you need?”

“Just wanted to look for some jobs,” he said. “If I could use a computer? The phone makes it hard to fill out applications. Don’t think I’ll need to go anywhere.”

“Sure,” you said, trying not to look surprised. “You can use my laptop, no problem.”

You set up a profile for him on your computer and made sure yours was password protected. And you reset the password so it couldn’t be something he would know - Joel0926. Just in case.

Joel texted you before you woke up - “Good morning, Beautiful. Hope your day isn’t too rough and that you’re taking care of yourself.” - and you wanted to tell him everything. All of it, all about your dad, all about where you came from, all about what you’d gone through to make it this far.

But he liked the person you’d made him think you were. What if he didn’t like this other version of you? What if your dad just took off in a few days and you risked blowing up everything with Joel for nothing?

“Thanks,” you wrote back, with a heart emoji. You sighed. He deserved better than this. But you weren’t sure how to give that to him, not right now.

All day at work, part of you was worried that you’d come home to find your apartment trashed or everything with any value gone with your father nowhere to be found.

Instead, he was in your kitchen, cursing quietly. You frowned and followed the sound, a slightly burned smell on the air.

“Dad?” You frowned, setting your tote bag on the counter as he bent over the oven. He jumped a little before straightening. He smiled sheepishly.

“Hey Angel. How was your day?”

“Fine,” you said. “What are you doing?”

“I… well…” he looked down at a glass baking dish that was more blackened than anything else. “I figured you’d probably had a long day and since you’re letting me stay here, thought I’d try to cook and I found a recipe online but I haven’t really cooked before…”

You went over and looked down into the pan with an almost amused frown.

“What even is it?”

“Well… I was gonna try and make a deep dish pizza,” he said. “You like that, I think, right? You went to school in Chicago, right?”

You smiled a little.

“How about I just order us pizza?” You said, having to swallow past a knot in your throat.

He looked relieved.

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Probably smart.”

You helped him apply for jobs through the weekend and were almost surprised to be settling into a pattern with him early into the next week. It was an odd role reversal, teaching your dad how to function in the real world. The one where people had jobs and bills and didn’t hop from friend’s place to friend’s place instead of having an actual home address.

But you weren’t confident enough to actually tell Joel any of it. You were still dodging him. Telling him about your dad opened the door to telling him about everything else from your younger years, things you’d worked hard to not have to share with anyone. Next week. If your dad was still around, still keeping his shit together, still trying to be in your life, then you would tell Joel. And, if he still liked you, you’d tell your dad about him.

Though that seemed like a big if.

Wednesday, you started questioning things.

Joel wasn’t texting as much. Not that you blamed him, you’d barely responded to him at all, not sure what to say but not wanting to lie to him. But you missed the texts. They were the bright spot in your day. You missed him. You wanted to go to his house and drag him to his bed and ride him until you were both sweaty and exhausted. You wanted to kiss him in a noisy bar that smelled like stale beer while you were tipsy. You wanted to call him on your way home from work so you could vent to each other and, by the time you came home to him, just hold each other until you had to move to figure out food.

You missed him because he was the first person you’d been close enough to that you might need to tell them about all of it and that terrified you. So maybe you were looking for problems when you got home after work and found your dad on the couch, watching sports.

“Hey Angel,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you sighed, dropping your bag by the door and stepping out of your heels before you flopped on the couch next to him. He hugged you and kissed your check. You frowned. “Have you been drinking?”

“What?” He laughed, looking at you like you were crazy.

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Angel,” he laughed. “It’s 5:30.”

“So?”

“No,” he said. “I haven’t been drinking. I did use some Listerine a little while ago, ate some sour cream and onion chips, didn’t want to knock you out with my breath.”

“OK,” you said, still skeptical. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he said. “I think I have an interview for next week, can you help me respond to the recruiter? I’m shit at writing things and not sounding like an idiot.”

“Sure,” you laughed a little. “Do you have job interview clothes?”

“What d’you mean?” He frowned, looking over at you.

“I mean you can’t show up to a job interview in jeans and a t-shirt, Dad,” you said. “Do you have like… a button down and khakis at least?”

“Don’t exactly got much,” he laughed a little. “Sure it’s fine, just a factory job…”

“We’ll go shopping when I get off work Friday,” you said. “I’ve got a late call with the west coast team tomorrow, I’ll be at the office late.”

“Honey, I can’t afford…” he began but you cut him off.

“I can,” you said. “Don’t worry about it.”

There was a knot of guilt in your stomach after accusing him of drinking, after he was making such an effort. But you checked the levels on your liquor bottles before you went to bed all the same.

But by Friday, you were feeling good about how things were going. There was a routine in your life, one that involved your father for the first time ever. It looked like he was serious about settling down in the area, applying for jobs and setting up interviews. Besides Wednesday’s blip, things seemed stable and you couldn’t stay away from Joel any more.

When he texted you Friday morning asking how things were going and if you’d be free again sometime soon, you took a deep breath and texted back.

“Hoping by Sunday,” you said.

By Sunday, you’d feel like telling him about your dad and everything else was worth the risk. Unless everything blew up. In which case, who cares.

You just hoped he’d still be interested, especially after you’d all but blown him off all week.

You took your dad to the mall that night, him modeling the dress pants and button downs for you, coming out of the fitting room looking a little unsure but a small smile on his face all the same.

“Feel like we should be doing the reverse of this,” he said, putting an arm around your shoulders. “If I’d done what I shoulda done years ago, I could have taken you shopping when you were a teenager and you could have showed me shit like prom dresses and I could buy you something you needed, not the other way around.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged and smiled a little. “I’m just glad we get to do this now.”

He smiled and kissed your temple.

“Me too, Angel,” he gave you a squeeze. “Me too.”

You went by H-E-B on the way home to get a few things for the weekend and started to go grab a bottle of wine and a six pack when you stopped yourself. Your dad laughed a little.

“Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean you can’t drink,” he said. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You’re sure?” You frowned.

“I’m sure.”

So you got the beer and a bottle of red wine - one from the winery Joel had taken you to on your first date, something that made you smile - and got steaks. Getting to see Joel again soon, your dad lining up a job interview, things actually going well between the two of you for the first time in your life. It felt like a reason to make something nice.

Your dad went to put his new clothes and shoes away while you started dinner and you decided to make yourself a cocktail. It was going to be a good weekend. You could feel it.

You made a Tom Collins and had just melted butter in your skillet to baste the steaks when you took your first sip.

It was watery.

So watery it didn’t taste like there was liquor in it at all.

Your hand shook as you set the glass down and you went to the liquor cupboard and took out the gin. You sniffed the bottle and smelled almost nothing. No familiar burn or hint of pine. You took a sip straight from the bottle to test it. It didn’t matter that you were putting your lips on it. You knew you wouldn’t need to save it.

It was water. Straight water.

You clenched your jaw and swallowed past the burning tightness in your throat. You weren’t about to cry. Not in front of him.

“Hey Angel,” he said, coming out from his room in sweats. He froze when he saw what was in your hands. “Oh, shit, I…”

“Thought you were sober,” your voice shook. “Thought you wanted me in your life.”

“I do, Honey, I really do, but…”

“But you just couldn’t keep yourself from getting fucked up every day?” You were going to cry. You were going to cry in front of this fucking asshole because you cared. He’d made you actually care, you’d fallen for his bullshit yet again and it was your own goddamn fault. “Jesus Christ, were you really going to go get a job working with heavy equipment and show up every day drunk off your ass until you killed someone?”

“I know my limits,” he was defensive. “I know what I can handle and sometimes I just work better with a little alcohol in my system, that’s all I’ve been doing, that’s…”

“This was damn near full when you got here,” you slammed the bottle on your counter. “You’ve been here a week. A fucking week and you drank through an entire fifth of gin, that’s not a little alcohol, Dad, that’s getting hammered every goddamn day.”

You pulled the pan off the stove and threw it in your sink with too much force before turning off the burner. You leaned against the counter for a moment, your fingers pressed so hard into the granite it seemed like they should be denting it.

“I want you gone,” you said.

“Angel…”

“I mean it,” you spun to face him. “I want you out. I don’t care where you go, I don’t care if you end up back in fucking prison because you lied to your parole officer, I don’t care if you drop dead. I want you gone, I never want to see you again, I want you to get the fuck out of my life.”

You shoved past him and went to your room, locking the door behind you. You curled up on your bed and let yourself cry.

You wished your father had never found you here. You wished you’d been smart enough to not fall for his shit this time around, You wished you didn’t want a connection with him, want just a shadow of what Sarah had with Joel because being on your own in the world with no ties to anything hurt almost as much as suffering your family’s bullshit did.

But, most of all, you wished Joel was here. You wished you could curl up against him and that he would hold you while you cried. You wished he’d tell you that you weren’t fucking stupid, that it made sense that you wanted a relationship with the man who’d done nothing but fuck you over your entire life, that everything was going to be OK and that he cared about you in spite of it all.

You heard your front door close and you stayed on the bed, hoping that he’d actually listen to you and not come back. You’d need to get the locks changed, check the browser history on your laptop to see if he’d gotten into any of your bank accounts or credit cards, look through your apartment and make sure he hadn’t stashed drugs somewhere and forgotten about them. Fuck, why had you been so stupid?

The sound of the crash outside jerked you out of your head. It was loud enough that the building shook a little, the endless horn after the crash impossible to ignore, and you got up, going for your front door.

Outside, outlined by the setting sun, was your car wrapped around a lamp post.

“Dad!” You yelled, running for the smoking heap of metal. He was slumped over the steering wheel and you ripped the door open, checking his pulse. His eyes fluttered open as you did, looking confused.

“What…”

“You decided to steal my car this time,” you said.

“Oh, shit, I…”

“Save it,” you snapped as a neighbor ran outside, cell phone pressed to her ear.

You ended up at the hospital with him most of the night. By the time the police were able to test him for alcohol, it was all out of his system. He hadn’t had a drink since you’d picked him up to go to the mall that evening. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful or if you wished he’d failed the test so he’d end up back in prison and far away from you.

He was mostly fine, just a little banged up and a broken nose from the airbag. Your car was totaled.

In the back of the Uber to your place after hours in the ER, you looked at him.

“You’re gone,” you said. “By noon. Otherwise, I call the cops and you can deal with them.”

He just nodded down at his hands.

The next morning, you ordered him an Uber to the bus station. He tried to talk to you but you just sat on the couch, holding your coffee cup, pretending you were alone.

“I know I fucked it all up,” he said, standing in your doorway “But I really did like spending time with you this week. I…”

Your phone dinged, saying the driver had arrived.

“Your ride is here,” you said, not bothering to look at him.

“OK.”

He stood there and you felt his eyes on you for another moment before he turned and left. You sank back into your couch and rested your forehead in your hand for a moment, trying not to cry. Again. Because fuck, this man did not deserve it.

And then there was the knock on your door.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you set your mug down so hard that coffee sloshed over the side and onto the table. You stalked toward the door, cell phone in your hand. You were going to call the cops on him this time, you really fucking were. “I swear to God if you forgot something you’re not coming back in…”

But it wasn’t your dad standing there.

“Joel,” you fought the urge to throw your arms around his neck and cry against him. He didn’t really look like himself, he looked upset. Hurt, angry, something. You frowned. “What are you…”

“Can I come in?” His voice was strained. You just nodded. “Think we need to talk.”

***

Your place looked the same.

It was strange, almost. Like there should be some indication of this other man here, something different about it but it was the same.

“Can I get you anything?” You asked. Your voice was thick. “I have coffee…”

“No thanks,” he said. “Don’t know how long I’ll be stayin’.”

“Oh,” you deflated a little. “Alright… What did you want to talk about? Because…”

“I thought we were on the same page,” he said, cutting you off again. He felt like a dick doing it but he had to get this out, if he didn’t it felt like he was going to burst with it and if he stood here too close to you for too long he wouldn’t do it. He’d just kiss you and wind up in your bed and be stuck in this sickening limbo he’d been trapped in for a week now. “I really did. We never talked about it, not really, but I thought…”

“I thought we were, too,” you frowned, looking confused. “I don’t…”

“You said you deleted your dating apps,” Joel said, his voice becoming a little heated. He took a breath. “You said you weren’t fucking anyone else, sure made it sound like you weren’t lookin’ for anything else, like you wanted to actually see where this would go, what this could be and… fuck, I believed that!

“You made me think it was OK to feel something for you,” he pressed on, standing in your living room with you in front of him, your arms crossed over your body and you looked so small, curving in on yourself like you were trying to disappear. And so much of him wanted to just grab you and hold you and tell you that everything was going to be OK but how could he promise that if you couldn’t even fucking agree on what you were to each other. “So I let myself feel it, I let myself start to fall in love with you and then you go fuckin’ silent on me. You don’t text me first and what you do send is basically nothin’, you never call and then I see you at the mall after you tell me you’re too busy to see me with some guy wrapped around you and that same fuckin’ guy is leavin’ your apartment this morning! I mean, fuck, if I was just some damn fling for you that’s fine but could you at least tell me? Not act like I meant somethin’ to ya?”

Joel was out of breath, his hands on his hips. He couldn’t look at you, not when you looked so sad it was like someone had hit you and he was still so mad, anyway.

“That was my dad,” you said softly.

Joel looked at you.

“What?”

“The man,” you closed your eyes for a second before you took a deep breath and opened them again. “At the mall, last night. Leaving my place this morning. That was my dad.”

“You said your parents were dead.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I said they were gone and they are, from my life. Except when my dad pulls this stunt where he crawls out of the woodwork every few years.”

He just stood there, staring at you for a moment.

“Want to sit down?”

He nodded and followed you to the couch. He sat down first and you sat on the opposite end of it, as far away from him as you could be.

“You knew I thought they were dead,” he said slowly. You nodded. “Why.”

“Joel…”

“You have to help me understand this, Beautiful,” his voice was calmer now. “Why would you let me believe a lie, I don’t…”

“Because I’m trash, OK? I’m trash, Joel, that’s why,” you snapped.

He frowned, shaking his head.

“You’re not…”

“Yes, I am,” you said, voice calmer. “Trailer trash, if you want to get technical about it, since I grew up in one. My dad knocked my mom up when she was 15 and he was 17, they were 15 and 18 when I was born. He took off right away and I grew up with my mom and one of her sisters because she was the only person in the family who didn’t disown my mother for getting pregnant at 15 and letting the dad run off.

“They were shit parents. It’s not really their fault, they were kids, they didn’t know what they were doing but they were really bad at it. I started taking care of myself before I can really remember, I couldn’t rely on anybody. My dad was in and out of my life even then, he decided real quick that his fucking friends and alcohol and drugs were way more important than I ever was. I tried, for a long time, to matter to him. To both of them, really. But I couldn’t so…

“I figured out that the only hope I had for not ending up like them was school. So I buckled down and did everything I could to be the best fucking student I could be. I took every AP class I could so I could get all the college credit I could manage before leaving high school, I got As in everything and I managed to get into a really good school.”

You squared your jaw, determined, and kept going.

“But good schools aren’t cheap and I had scholarships but they didn’t cover everything and it’s not like my parents were good for any of it. I didn’t want to take out loans. So I did the only thing I could find that would pay for the rest of school and pay the rent while letting me be free for classes during the day and I danced all four fucking years I was in school.”

“Danced?” Joel frowned.

You rolled your eyes.

“I was a stripper, Joel,” you said. “I’m not ashamed of it, it kept me fed and out of debt, but I’m not about to put it on my fucking LinkedIn. And it’s because they were there for none of it, they didn’t do a damn thing to help me or support me or anything but every few years my dad shows up and finds new ways to fuck me over. He wiped out my savings account once, trashed my apartment with his buddies another time. This visit he had a pretty good con going, showed up to my office acting like he had his shit together when, really, he was doing the same fucking thing he always does, which is drink and fuck his life up. And when I found out, he stole my fucking car and wrapped it around a lamp post. Because he’s trash and I am, too…”

“No, you’re not,” Joel said firmly.

“Joel…”

“You’re not,” he said. You were looking at him like you were about to cry. It made his chest hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t I know any of this?”

“Because everything that I am now?” You said. “Everything that you know and like about me? That’s all invented, I made it all up. I had to build myself from the ground up after I got away from that life. You liked the me that I built, Joel. The me who reads classic books and has an understanding of film theory and went to Northwestern. Why on Earth would you like the version of me who knew how to make ramen when she was four because that’s what she could reach in the cupboard or the me who took her clothes off to pay for college?”

“Because I like you,” he said gently. “Don’t really care which version, so long as you’ll let me spend time with you.”

All the hurt and the anger that had been swallowing him was gone now. In its place was this need to take care of you, to be something constant in your life in a way no one had been for you before, in a way you so desperately deserved.

You shook your head.

“That’s sweet, Joel,” you were choked up, eyes watery. “Really, it is, but you don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean,” he moved to the middle cushion of the couch. “The person you are now? The one who laughs at crappy movies with me and doesn’t know shit about wine and finds the best restaurants in town? She wouldn’t exist without the girl who had to figure out how to feed herself or the young woman who was so determined to get an education she worked her ass off to make it happen.

“I wasn’t jokin’ when I said I was falling in love with you, baby, and that means all of you. Even the parts you don’t like, even the parts I don’t know yet. I’m fallin’ for the whole package and I’m fallin’ pretty hard so I’m really hoping we’re on the same page on that.”

You nodded quickly, tears actually falling now.

“Yeah,” you said, still nodding. “Yeah, we are. We really fucking are.”

You threw your arms around his neck and he pulled you against him, your face going into his chest as you cried against him.

“I’m so sorry,” your voice was muffled by his shirt. “I should have just called you and talked to you, I was so scared of losing this, losing you, I just hid it all and I almost let him ruin the best thing that’s happened to me in so long and…”

He shushed you.

“Don’t apologize,” his hand made a slow, gentle pattern from the crown of your head down your back, smoothing your hair down, tracing over your spine. “I’m sorry for assuming the worst, I’m sorry for making you think that anything about you would make me want to leave. I’m sorry for not just tellin’ you what you mean to me.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed a little, pressed yourself closer to him.

He kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah,” he said. “Because if I’d just told you how I felt about you, you wouldn’t have been dealing with all this on your own. I could have helped. I want to help. So please, Beautiful. Let me help.”

You looked up at him from your place against his chest.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” You asked quietly. “I really missed you.”

He kissed your forehead.

“Of course, baby,” he said quietly. “I really missed you, too. So damn much.”

You shifted so that you were all but on his lap and he held you close, just feeling you against him. It hurt to think about you so many years ago, having to go through shit on your own because none of the adults in your life stepped up to take care of you. It was hard to not picture Sarah as a little girl, what she would have looked like trying to fend for herself when she was four or five.

It hurt, too, to realize that you’d been so alone this past week. That he’d been thinking about you and wanting to see you but hadn’t been someone safe for you to come to. He kissed the top of your head again, making a silent promise to himself that he’d never let you feel that way again. That he’d always be the person you came to first, with anything, even if all he could do was hold you through it. He wasn’t going to let you do it all alone, not anymore, not again.

Your tears eased and you adjusted, nuzzling against him, your nose trailing over his throat.

“Feeling better?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you nodded against him and pressed a long, gentle kiss to his neck. “Yeah, I am…”

You kissed his neck again, your lips against his skin for a few seconds, your breath warm and soft. He groaned a little.

“Don’t know if that’s such a great idea, Beautiful,” he pulled you back from him slightly and you frowned, your brows knitting together.

“Why not?”

“Just…” he adjusted himself so you wouldn’t see him starting to harden in his jeans. “Sounds like you’ve had a hell of a week and…”

“But I want to,” you separated from him enough to pull your top up and over your head, casting it aside on the floor and leaving you in a lace bralette. “Please, Joel…”

He wasn’t about to argue too much. He nudged you back on the couch so he could pull your pants and underwear off before he pulled his own down. Before he could even get them fully off you were on his lap, straddling him and pulling at his shirt until it was over his head and on the floor.

Joel slipped his hands to your waist and slid them slowly, gently over your skin, exploring you, feeling you, until he reached the bralette. He pulled that up and over your head before tossing it to the ground and leaving you bare before him.

“Fuck, beautiful,” he breathed, looking you over before kissing you deeply, his tongue teasing into your lips. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you started grinding slowly against his lap, your wet slit brushing against his cock and making him shudder with desire. “Fuck, I wanted to talk with you so bad this week, Joel. You were all I really wanted and…”

“You’ve got me,” he said quietly, kissing you again. “Don’t have to do it all alone ever again, Beautiful. Promise you don’t.”

You nodded and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment before you rose up enough to notch his head against your dripping, grasping entrance. You dropped your forehead to his and your eyes met his own as you slowly, surely, sank onto his cock.

He moaned as you took him completely, fighting to take deep, steady breaths. You felt so damn good around him and he couldn’t help but look down to see where the two of you were joined, his cock disappearing into you. The sight of you taking him into yourself, the way your body made room for him, how you felt around him made him acutely aware of just how close he was to you. He was a part of you like this and it felt like this was how it was supposed to be, you and him together.

His hands ranged over you, up your back to pull you tightly to him and you gave a ragged, desperate little gasp.

“I’ve got you, Beautiful,” he held you tightly to him as you held him inside yourself. “I’ve always got you.”

You started to move over him then, every thrust of your hips delicious and slow, like you were savoring how he felt. You started to tighten around him and he groaned a little.

“Missed you, Joel,” you breathed, your pace increasing. “So, so much.”

You rode him and he was so lost in you he wasn’t sure how long he was clutching you to him, he was too far gone to notice. All he knew in the world was that you were his, that he could feel you so close it almost hurt, that he always wanted to be able to be with you like this.

“I’m gonna come,” you panted, pressing yourself flush against him, dropping your head to his shoulder. “Fuck, Joel, you feel… I’m gonna come I can’t…”

“Come on, baby,” he pressed his fingers into your flesh. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you, want you to come for me. Come on my cock, baby, want to feel you, let me feel you.”

You came with a strangled cry and stilled as your pussy fluttered around him. He fucked you through it, thrusting up into you three more times before the force of your orgasm was too much and he pushed himself in deep, moaning as he filled you.

He held you like that, your bodies joined and aligned, for a while. Eventually, he relaxed his hold on you and you sat up a little, his cock softening within you. He reached a hand up and threaded his fingers in your hair, his palm against your cheek.

“Next time somethin’ happens, how about we just talk it out,” he smiled a little. “Like this a whole lot more than not seeing you.”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah, Joel,” you smiled. “Next time, we’ll talk.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Soooooooooo

I felt kinda bad leaving that cliffhanger out there two weeks in a row BUT now we have them on the same page :D and stuff is out there :D :D and they can move on to figuring out whether or not to tell Sarah :D :D :D

Don't forget that you can follow me and subscribe on my updates blog where I'll only reblog each new chapter once so you're not spammed.

I hope you all enjoyed this angsty little interlude in this story. I know I did! Thanks for being here <3 Love you!

Taglist: @fanficismydrug

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut fic #joel miller x oc #new in town

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 1 day

Text

The Fuck Up Chapter 5

Summary: Bucky fucked up. A few times. Will his best friend ever be able to forgive him?

Warnings: language, smut, mentions of war, injury, pregnancy

Bucky pulled up at 2:53 p.m. to the little house. He stared at it, admiring just how much it looked like Y/N’s style before parking his bike and slowly walking up to the door. He adjusted his backpack as he took a deep breath, then knocked. He heard the footsteps behind the door and tried to steel himself.

The door opened to reveal Y/N. She froze as she gazed up at him. Bucky stared back at her, unsure of what to say or how to start the conversation. After a minute of them just looking at each other Y/N finally gave him a small smile. “Hey Buck,” she greeted him quietly.

Bucky let out a sputtered breath that he was unaware he was holding. “Hi,” he replied. He felt like he was frozen, stuck to the spot where he stood, his heart hammering in his chest.

Y/N watched him amusedly. “Would you like to come in?”

Bucky nodded, then rigidly moved forward and walked inside the house. He stood in the small entryway as she shut the door behind him then passed him to stand by the wall. “You can put your stuff there,” she instructed, pointing towards a storage spot on the opposite wall.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, quickly shedding his shoes, helmet, backpack and his jacket. He turned back to her, seeing her gnawing at her lower lip as she looked toward the hallway. “Y/N,” Bucky said quietly. She looked back at him, releasing her lip and licking her lips. He felt the tears build in his eyes again as he looked at her. “Honey I’m so sorry,” Bucky cried, shutting his eyes tight.

Y/N sighed then reached out and took one of his hands. “Come on.” She led him over to the couch behind her and sat, gesturing for him to sit next to her. When they got comfortable she turned toward him and held one of his hands in both of hers. “I’m sorry for not telling you,” she said, her fingers softly massaging his hand. Bucky shook his head but she shushed him. “No, I need to say this. I know I should have told you the moment I found out, but I didn’t want to distract you while you were out there and be the reason you weren’t focused. There’s nothing I can do about it now but say I’m sorry,” she paused, swallowing harshly and looking down. “And I’m sorry for running away. From you, Becca, your parents. I thought I needed to handle it on my own for some reason, but I didn’t, I know that now. I just needed a break, and it turned into me getting scared and isolating myself. I don’t blame you,” she looked back up at him, making sure he was looking at her and listening. “Do you hear me? I don’t blame you. We weren’t thinking. But when I saw those two lines? And heard that little heartbeat? I couldn’t give him up. And that became one of the best things that’s ever happened in my life.”

Bucky’s tears never stopped. He could sit and listen to her forever, and he had a glimmer of hope at her words. “I fucked up that morning,” he turned to face her more, his hands gripping her fingers firmly. “I should have woken you up. I should have said a proper, real goodbye. We should have talked about it before I left. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t handle it. And I’m sorry,” he choked back a sob, “I’m so sorry that you felt like you had to do it all alone. I don’t deserve your forgiveness but, I hope I can work to earn it from you.” He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I promised you I’d come back home to you. You’ve always been home, Y/N. And now, with him…” Bucky opened her hands and kissed her palms.

Y/N was now crying, biting her bottom lip. “I forgive you, Bucky.” Bucky broke down and he leaned forward until his forehead rested against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and held him, running her hands through his hair and kissing the top of his head. He held her against him as close as he could, crying into her chest. As his crying died down after a few minutes he kissed the spot over her heart and she inhaled shakily.

“I forgive you, Buck, but I’m not ready for anything like that,” Y/N said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, pulling away and giving her space. “I didn’t mean…” He shook his head.

Just then a noise came from one of the back rooms and Bucky’s head whipped towards the sound. Y/N sighed again and stood. “I’ll be right back,” she said, walking towards the room. Bucky wiped his eyes as he tried to calm his thundering heart. He sat stiffly on the couch, waiting, until Y/N came back out a few minutes later with a bundled blanket in her arms. A tiny arm reached up out of the blanket and the tiny hand tapped her chin. “Bucky?” Y/N walked towards him slowly. Bucky’s eyes were wide, his mouth dropped open as he stared at the little bundle. “Would you like to meet him?”

Bucky nodded frantically and Y/N sat on the coffee table in front of him. She shifted her arms and moved the blanket so he could see the baby’s face. When he did he gasped lightly at just how similar it looked to him. He huffed a laugh, a small smile brightening his face as he leaned forward to look at him. “I named him Avriel James Barnes. I thought a cute nickname could be Avi,” Y/N spoke quietly, watching Bucky’s face carefully. Bucky swallowed and smiled wider. “Would you like to hold him?”

Bucky nodded again and Y/N handed him the baby. Bucky slowly and carefully held Avi, his tiny head fitting into the palm of his hand as his other hand held him under his back. He gazed at Avi, memorizing his tiny features as Avi squirmed to get more comfortable. “Hey Avi,” Bucky cooed at him, his deeper voice seeming to relax him. “My little man,” he whispered as his thumb curved around and caressed Avi’s cheek. He looked back up at Y/N who was already looking at him. “He’s beautiful.”

Y/N smirked, “Just like his Daddy.”

Bucky scoffed and hung his head to hide his blush. He couldn’t stop looking at Avi. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here at first,” he said as he nuzzled his nose against Avi’s soft cheek. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” He glanced at Y/N. “Can I please stay?”

“Of course you can stay,” Y/N said, reaching out and squeezing Bucky’s knee. “We’ll figure this all out.”

Bucky sighed this time. “My parents are dying to come see him.”

“They’re welcome,” Y/N said, blinking back some tears.

Bucky called his parents and Becca soon after and they drove out to meet them. Y/N hugged them and apologized, but all was forgiven with the family. Winifred and George were beside themselves as they held Avi, and Becca wouldn’t leave Y/N’s side, finally getting her friend back. After a few hours of catching up they went home while Bucky stayed.

“You can stay in this room,” Y/N offered him the guest bedroom. “My room is just across the hall and the nursery is next to it,” she gestured towards the doors. “If you need anything just let me know. Avi usually wakes up around 1:00 a.m. and then 5:00 a.m. for feedings, but that’s not consistent, so I hope you can get used to baby cries at all hours.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Bucky said as he rocked Avi to sleep.

“Alright. Do you want to put him down?”

“I’ll try,” Bucky said, walking towards the nursery. Y/N followed him, staying at the doorway to let him have his moment. “Okay little man, here we go,” Bucky kissed Avi’s forehead lightly and slowly set him down into the crib. Avi squirmed a little and Bucky rubbed his belly and shushed him. “Goodnight Avi. I love you.” Y/N smiled at the cute moment. Bucky followed her out of the nursery and as quietly as possible closed the door behind him.

“Thank you, Buck,” Y/N said as she inched towards her door. “Um…goodnight then.”

“Right,” Bucky said, looking at her wistfully. He slowly took a step towards her. “Can I just ask for one thing?”

“I don’t know, you asking questions is dangerous,” Y/N teased him as she leaned against her door.

Bucky snorted. “It’s tame I promise.”

“Mhm,” Y/N gave him an unimpressed look.

Bucky smiled and shook his head. “Could I just have one of your famous hugs?”

Y/N’s gaze softened at that. “Sure.”

He opened his arms and she stepped into them, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him close. She was a bit shorter than him, but he did his best to be close to her. His cheek rested on the top of her head as he breathed in her hair and his hands tenderly held her around her upper body. She squeezed him lightly, her face resting against his chest. They stayed like that for a while until Y/N started pulling away.

“Goodnight Buck.”

“Goodnight honey.”

****

A small whimper woke Bucky up. After Y/N had fallen asleep he had moved the mattress in the guest bedroom to the nursery and laid it next to the crib. He couldn’t seem to be able to relax until he knew that Avi was sleeping well. He’d already missed so much and didn’t want to miss a second more. As the whimpering got louder Bucky hoisted himself up and looked into the crib.

“Hey little man,” he whispered, reaching down and picking Avi up. “It’s okay.” Avi calmed down a little but was still squirming. Bucky checked to see if he needed to be changed and when he didn’t he took him out of the room. He went to Y/N’s room and knocked before entering. “Y/N,” he called to her lowly. She didn’t hear him so he moved towards her bed. “Y/N,” he sat on the opposite side from her on her bed and reached over, nudging her shoulder. She stirred and groaned.

“What?” she said groggily and turned towards him.

“I think it’s feeding time,” Bucky murmured to her, then Avi let out a wail.

“Okay, I hear you,” Y/N yawned and fully turned over. She reached for Avi and Bucky helped tuck him next to her in bed. Without thinking she lifted up her shirt and helped Avi latch onto her breast. Bucky looked away, a deep blush on his cheeks. Y/N seemed to remember he was there and chuckled dryly. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before, Buck, it’s fine.” Bucky scoffed before looking back at her. “Might as well lay down,” she yawned again as Avi fed, making little suckling sounds. “He’s gonna be a minute.”

Bucky grinned and got himself comfortable in her bed. He turned to face her and watched her feed Avi as she closed her eyes, her arms cocooning Avi into a little bubble on the bed. He kept smiling, amazed by the beauty of the moment. The woman he loved with his baby. He had always loved her, and was frustrated with himself that it took almost losing her to realize it fully. He knew it would take time to build that trust and friendship, let alone anything more romantic with Y/N again, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get to that point with her. He reached over and pushed some of her hair that was hanging in her face back with his fingers, then caressed her face with the back of his fingers softly. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him sleepily. Bucky smiled at her, and she smiled back. They would get there, he knew it.

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #series fanfic #chapter 5 #soldier!bucky barnes #marine!bucky barnes #buckywiththelonghair

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dawnoftime22 · 30 days

Text

for the loss of my life.

| W.M -> N.R

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 11

Chapter Warnings: One swear word, overthinking.

Summary: Making yourself at home with someone else's heart but holding no communications of the love clear between you two, has a chance for consequences to happen. What will the outcome be if you speak up about it?

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 3.3k

Category: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

A/N: I hope you're all taking care of yourselves <3

Series Playlist

| Started on 07/05/2024, 2:02 PM |

| Finished on 11/05/2024, 10:53 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 10 Final Chapter ->

"Run yourself in a circle, bury yourself a deeper hole, but it won't end unless you stop and take control."

Started with a kiss, oh, we must stop meeting like this!

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was an early day at Nat's place. You were hanging out in her room, taking a look through physical photos she's taken that had been retrieved from a dusty box, sitting under her bed, along with some cassettes.

Meanwhile, she was going through the photos on her digital camera and clearing some accidental takes. her lips raises up when sees the photo you had taken of her, the day you first came over to her apartment. She didn't ever delete the picture.

"Hey, you have any batteries?" You ask, gently breaking the comforting quietness that had overcome the two of you. She looks up, taking her gaze off the camera screen.

"Yeah, there should be some in the top drawer." She nods towards her chestdrawer, and you get up, going off to open the top one, inside holding a small pack of batteries.

You grab two, then slide them into the battery slot for the cassette player, making sure it was properly inside before closing it and turning back to her.

Her eyes watch you as you picked up a cassette tape, placing it inside to play it. You already had your headphones on your head and connected to the output.

With some faith and a miracle, the player works after you heard some white noise. You hoped it'll last that way.

Nat tilted her head, and peeks to see the wheels of the player spinning, a clear indication it was working. When you turn up the volume a little, she could hear the music coming out from the old headphones she kept.

Thank everything the dust hadn't gotten into the box. Although there was a dead black spider within it just earlier and you had jumped when you saw it. She took care of it though, after also making sure there wasn't anything else, especially things such as...spider eggs.

You nod your head to the music as you sat back down on the bed, your hand going back through the photos scattered in a pile atop each other and every now and then petting Liho, beside you. It was all indeed scenery, and no portraits, selfies, or even people at all.

A specific one that was a bright glow of a sunset with water reflecting its own beauty had caught your attention, your eyes focused on it before your hand reached out.

"This one's pretty," you said, holding it up before leaning closer to Nat and tilting it to show it to her. She looked at it, and her eyebrows raised.

"Oh, I took that one a while after I saw the orca." She pointed out, and you realize how familiar it did look. The grass below, the rocks just ahead. It was the same spot as the pictures and videos she had showed you before. You guessed she wanted a physical memory of it too.

"There should be a picture of the orca here somewhere, but I think the film got a leak..." She murmured with a tinge of sadness as her hand ruffled through the pictures slightly, some with dates on them and some having nothing.

"I love that you waited for the sunset," you said, still staring at the shot she took in your hand. The sun was a bright orange, nearly similar in color as her hair.

"Well, the view was too pretty not to." She looked at you. You were also too adorable for her to not further fall in love with you as she saw you admiring the photos she took. That's what she thought, but it was never said out loud.

Liho, was laying down and purring between the two of you. She was quiet, and unmoving, too comfortable to do anything else but sit with the two people she liked the most.

When Nat's eyes went down to the pictures closer to your crossed legs, she spots the photo that had the orca, although just barely visible through the orange light leak that covered nearly the entire photo.

"Here it is," she said, her hand carefully taking ahold of it to give to you. You gently grabbed it, rotating it when you realize she gave it to you in the opposite way.

You raised your eyebrows, taking in the picture. It took a few seconds, with some squinting, but you soon see the orca jumping from the water, although small. "I think it looks prettier with the light leak."

She hums, taking another look to the picture in your hand. You smiled softly, and her eyes flickered up to your lips for a small moment before she turns back to her camera.

You notice the way she goes back to her camera, almost as if she was distracting herself, but you hadn't seen the flicker in her eyes. Tilting your head, you check the cassette player for a bit before looking up at her.

"You wanna listen?" You asked with a soft gaze, taking off the headphones on your head and holding it out to her.

She raised an eyebrow, but took it from you, putting it on. "Sure." the music was already flowing through her ears. 'American Pie'. She remembered this album. It was what she had listened to whenever she was alone, in the car peacefully. But it was different with the headphones-- capturing more details she hadn't noticed. Or, maybe, she just hasn't listened to it in a while and had forgotten.

You smiled as you see her involuntarily moving her head to the song, her attention going to inspect the cassette player, either watching the wheels turning or putting the volume up.

Soon after, you finish looking at every photo and get out of bed, deciding to walk towards the bathroom, but was too close to the bed, causing you to accidentally hit your hand against the wooden bedframe, it making a loud sound echo through the room.

"Ow, fuck!" You winced and cursed, grimacing at the pain. Both Nat and Liho looks at you, shocked. You were focused on your stinging hand though, shaking the pain away. It took everything in you to not crumple up like a shrimp to the floor.

"Are you okay?" she asks quickly, her eyes filling with concern. But you nod repetitively, unwilling to admit it still hurt. Your other hand was firmly gripping your wrist, as if it would help.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine!" you say, most probably trying to convince yourself, too. She lets out a small laugh when she sees you wave her off and struggle as you moved to take a step forward.

"Sure you are. Come here." She says quietly, but you still heard her. You purse your lips and your eyes travel to her, but you follow nonetheless, two pair of eyes watching you.

"Which hand?" She asked gently, looking at your hands. You hesitate for a moment, but stepped closer, holding it out.

"Right." She grabs your hand and rubs her thumb on the skin slightly to where you held it, knowing thats where the pain is. She blows a little, as if you would magically take pain away from a child.

"There. Better." She says, and a red tint goes over your face. The redhead cheekily smiles. Just when she was about to pull her hand away from yours, the cat sitting in her lap had been looking at you two the whole time, and it decides to lean up, going up to your hand.

Both you and Nat watch curiously as to what it was doing. Liho's yellow eyes were focused before a paw gently lands on your wrist, her face going closer to lick on your skin, making the pain slowly go away even more. You chuckled, both at getting your skin tickled and the fact the cat tried to help ease the pain.

Then you see Nat's eyes travel to her cassette player, concern growing in her face as she heard some warbly music. She takes off the headphones, feeling uneasy at the sound.

"I think it's breaking." She said, looking at the headphones in her hands that you now heard the messed up music from. Pulling your hand away from the cat's face, your eyebrows furrowed as your attention moved to her.

"Why, what happened?" You check on the cassette player, seeing that it was slowing down or speeding up, changing its pace however much it wants.

Nat stops the player with a click and hands both items back to you. The feel of her skin brushing with yours glided over for a mere second, but you try to focus on the player in your hand. Changing its batteries after taking the tape out, rewinding or fast forwarding a bit. But nothing other than a broken noise.

You sighed softly, knowing you'll need to open it up to check its insides. "It probably needs a new belt..." You murmured, turning around while Nat blinked at you and tilted her head, probably unfamiliar with the workings of a portable player.

"It's what makes the wheels spin. I'll search for one," you explained, then left the player on the chestdrawer to deal with later before storing the tape and sitting down on the bed once more, helping her sort the pictures. Nat nods, leaning closer to show you some things on her digital camera.

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It was one of the many times once again, you were sitting in Natasha's apartment, and it was the beginning of something you were starting to get lost in.

The city bustles. Sounds of car tires, motorcycles revving, a nearby cat somewhere in an alleyway, and most of all, the birds chirping in the skies.

The wind was gentle as it glided against your skin, the chair you were sat in being a wooden one. You should get up from it. It was starting to make your body sore. But you couldn't help but stay, the balcony being peaceful.

Every thought in your head floated on by, with some sticking, being nothing but damaging. You still haven't gotten a belt yet for the cassette player. Kate's been just here and there, keeping a natural presence in your life. You haven't seen Wanda at all since. But your mind questioned if she was still waiting on you, lost too, or had moved on after your rejection.

A sigh leaves your mouth. To put a pause on all of it for however long you'd want would make you be able to relieve your body of any exhaustion it held. But would it really? Perhaps for a moment. Moving forward would have you release the things from before and have the opportunities to experience things in a better way.

And what about Nat...? You've been growing close, closer to going over the line you weren't sure you were ready to cross. And it seems like she wasn't either. The many touches you've shared, the months and months that held the many times you've visited her. And the kiss that you couldn't shake off...were you actually falling in love with her?

You shook your head, not wanting to even think about it. But you should. The longer you leave it be the more it could lead to torment and perhaps worser consequences. Problems don't fix themselves...most of the time.

Suddenly, you feel arms go around your waist, and you take a breath in, gasping softly in surprise, then turning your head to look behind you. The familiar touch was recognized soon enough, but seeing the redhead you cherished dearly makes you relax and lean back into her.

"I'm home." She said, resting her head on your shoulder as she gazed at you from behind, looking adorable. How can you not absolutely fall for this woman? You smiled softly, feeling your heart grow a little lighter, now that you weren't alone.

"Hi," you whispered, your hand gliding to your front to put over hers that was still on your waist. You hesitated on your next words, but the connection you felt with her urged you to. "I missed you."

Her eyes went to yours, but she didn't question it, replying back quietly, "I've missed you, too, любов." There it was again. You weren't imagining things when you had gotten drunk just a few days ago.

Wanda always said things in Russian, such as малыш (baby), but you've never heard of that word. Or maybe it wasn't Russian at all, and you were mixing up languages, but the accent made it lean towards being so.

You were going to ask her what it meant, but she spoke first. "You been okay?" She asks, her hands slipping off your waist as she pulls herself away from you and stood beside your standing figure. You watched her, seeing her gaze off to the view you've been staring off at the past hour.

"Yeah...I..." The words utter from your mouth quietly, then you licked your dry lips, diverting your own gaze. Should you tell her about the encounter you had a few days ago?

There was no harm in it, but your fingers fiddle with your pocket, the jean fabric rough against your skin before you slid your hand in the pockets. A sound of an ambulance siren sounded out distantly from the city, and you wait until it fades further away before talking.

"I saw Wanda a few days ago," You said, within a breath that could be counted as a sigh. At the mention of your ex's name, her eyes flash with surprise for a moment as she looks back to you, but she regains her composure fast enough.

Nat's head goes through her own thoughts, wondering if you meant intentionally or accidentally. Surely, accidentally. Or she hoped so. Why was she hoping so? She didn't know. Maybe simply because she was worried you'd fall into a dark hole, and not because her own heart was aiming for you...surely.

"Anything happen?" She asks, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. The redhead also leaned on the balcony rails beside you, feeling the gentle wind. The sun was falling down, so the skies were colored with gentle hues of orange and purple.

You didn't say anything back for just a few seconds, staying quiet as you were lost in decision, your eyes focused on a space elsewhere that wasn't her own eyes. Her face soften when she notices, and her voice was somehow gentler. "...That you're comfortable of sharing?"

Your lips raise up in the smallest smile for a moment, the swell in your heart obvious due to her thought to care in such a way. But the smile slowly fades as you remembered the memory.

"She wanted to get back together..." You start. Already, Nat raised a brow, a frown on her face. The metal rails of the balcony was cold on your skin when you stepped forward to lean against it.

Your shoulders were tense. When you realized they were, you let them relax and fall down just slightly with a quiet breath. "I didn't want to though." You whispered.

"I just can't get it out of my head." She didn't really know what to say to anything of it, afraid to touch on the sensitive subject. For you, it did some small damage, your head possibly going overboard with its roaming thoughts.

You can tell she had hesitancy to respond, but you didn't mind. Who could ever come up with a reply to that anyway? But Nat was kind, that was for sure. She just has some walls you just can't yet break through. Yet, how caring she's been, and gentle...you almost couldn't help but feel you're not half as decent as her.

You inhaled. "...What if she was just too good for me?" The words were under your breath, your gaze distant as you watch the city lights turning on with the growing darkness of the skies. The shops had a glow to them, almost alluringly.

"What if I don't deserve any of it?" Your hands gently gripped the metal it was against, but it slowly loosened when you feel the cold going too much against your skin. Nat's breath gets caught in her throat at your sentence, and she kept her eyes on you.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice gentle as her concern grew. She knew exactly what you meant, but she hoped she just imagined it. You turned to look at her, worry deep in your eyes that had her heart clenching.

"This. You...anything good in my life." Your volume lowered to a slight murmur, your hands going to run down your face when you rested your elbows further on the rails.

"I mean-- I've...done some good things but so...many horrible things." You said slowly, and she analyzed your movements and words. She knows it herself. She's accused herself of such a thing too, having gone through the same thing your mind is going through.

"Y/N." When she says your name with a serious tone, everything stops, as if the world freezes along with your mind, and only she was the living thing beside you. She had put one of her hands on your shoulder nearest to her, making you look at her again.

"You deserve everything. Please, don't think any less." She shook her head lightly, honesty in her eyes. Your heart stutters at her words as you swallowed a lump in your throat.

"She didn't..." she trails off, thinking her words carefully. She was going to say Wanda didn't deserve such a love like yours, but it simply sounded...wrong.

"You deserve a love that makes you happy and...makes your world feel like sunshine or just...takes the weight off your shoulders after a long day." The redhead explained slowly, making sure you were hearing her. Really, she was speaking a description of you. Even if she wasn't trying.

She had gotten home, saw you in her apartment, and any heaviness in her body had lightened, even if just slightly, your presence did a great deal.

Nat took a moment, gathering her words. "And if you're not enough for her, then she's not enough for you," she gently added, but anxiety was creeping in her heart.

You processed her words, your heart surprisingly steady, but that may be the cause of her very own calm presence beside you. At least, on the outside. She was right. The situation of the brunette was basically done and over with. You had to focus on yourself. But now stood the question right next to you.

"...And what are we?" You asked slowly and quietly, looking up at her. Your eyes met her green ones, the ones that look like a forest, but inviting, soft, as if they'd keep you safe.

She searches your pupils, taking a deep breath as her eyebrows furrowed, trying to think it over. Her mouth opened to speak, but she only ended up taking another breath in.

"I don't know." She whispers. Sounds of birds were heard flying over in the distance. She was right there. She was so close. But she couldn't say it. Not yet, not just yet. The light and hope in your eyes dimmed, a breath slowly and quietly exhaling out your lips.

"Well, it's getting late," you said. You weren't really disappointed, more so just...sad. You pushed yourself back from the rails. She saw the words that was coming next, but she almost didn't want to hear it.

"I should...probably get back to my place." You whispered under your breath, turning around to face the entrance of the balcony, where you could see her familiar furnished apartment. She nods.

Steps were taken, shots in the dark had gone, the only thing left was to sit and think. But you were getting bored of doing such a thing. Just as you stepped a single foot inside again, she turns her body calmly.

"Text me," she said suddenly, her eyes hesitantly traveling to yours. You stopped in your tracks and looked at her from over your shoulder, a somber look in your eyes she could just barely make out.

"...When you get back home," she continued, her voice quiet, but it held care. Your shoulders went down. Your home was her, where her heart was. There was something else, but you couldn't quite reach to whatever it was.

"I will." The words left your mouth softly, but it seems no tears had pricked your eyes at all. Maybe it was because you couldn't seem to form any at all anymore, or was it the fact she even cared to know you arrived home safely?

Your steps were quiet as you went out the apartment, Liho meowing softly before you closed the door. You don't want her like a best friend. Or just someone you could love without anything connected. You wanted more.

And you wondered if she thought the same.

end of chapter 11. <3

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 10 Final Chapter ->

to mend a broken heart is to restart.

"I don't truly deserve a love like yours." W.M

"She doesn't deserve a love like yours." N.R

"What if I...don't deserve anyone's love?" R.

------------------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @slutforabbyanderson @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @animealways @may-z3 @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @natsbiggestfan1 @fawnedolly @blacklightsposts @canvascoloredin @autorasexy @taliiiaasteria @wandanatlov3r @glorioushamsterqueen @shaniaauld03 @yvungmxshroom

#🥀 dawn’s collection #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff comfort #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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jozor-johai · 21 days

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Days, Moons, Snow, and Letters: Proposing an new timeline for the ADWD North

The timeline you think you know around Jon's death is wrong, and this post is to show you why. Every discussion about who really wrote the Pink Letter is missing a crucial detail: Jon dies a month before Tycho Nestoris even reaches the Crofter's Village.

Yes, I am aware this sounds like an unbelievable claim. I would love for someone to convincingly prove me wrong, and if you believe you can, please let me know. However, I am reaching this conclusion using only the facts, which I will break down for you here.

Based on Asha's careful count of the days in The King's Prize and The Sacrifice, Jon's account of the moons from Jon VII onward, and Asha's, Theon's, and Jon's account of the snowstorm around Winterfell, I believe I can convincingly argue that by the time Tycho Nestoris arrives at Stannis' camp at the end of The Sacrifice—before any battle has taken place at all—Jon has already been dead for a month.

Very long (and dry) explanation below the cut. Please enjoy.

At the end, there's a Timeline breakdown illustrating the rough outline by the day, so don't worry if my tally of the weeks starts to get confusing, there is a clarifying list at the end.

The intuitive version—where George is giving us helpful hints

Jon VII, The Prince of Winterfell, and The King’s Prize.

In The King’s Prize, Stannis’ host sets out from Deepwood Motte. Because this is important for timing everything else, let's call this Day 0.

In Jon VII, during a new moon, Jon receives a letter informing him of this plan ("we march against him")—I believe we can sync these events as occurring roughly contemporary to one another, with Jon VII happening a few days later. For ease later on, let's say Jon VII happens ~0.5 weeks after Asha departs Deepwood; this is ~Day 3.

Very shortly after that is Prince of Winterfell and Jeyne’s marriage: during this chapter, Roose receives word that Stannis has left Deepwood Motte. Allowing for just a bit more wiggle room (for Arnolf Karstark to have received a similar update as Jon did, and then to forward that information to ahead to Roose) we can place Prince of Winterfell fairly soon after Jon VII, itself after The King’s Prize begins. Let's call this ~Day 6.

Theon in Winterfell

Thanks to Asha keeping track of the days to the number, we know that Stannis' host spends at least 34 days on the march (Asha notes that "On the thirty-second day" grain ran out, at least two more days pass—the day "Lord Peasebury turned against the northmen" and "The next day the king's scouts chanced upon an abandoned crofters' village") and then Stannis' camp spends an additional 19 days at the Crofter's Village before Tycho and Theon arrive ("they had been three days from winterfell for nineteen days"). Therefore, we can almost exactly place Theon's arrival at the Crofter's Village no sooner than 53 days from the time they left Deepwood Motte. (It's possible, but not necessary, to insert more days between 32 and the Peasebury day, and we're trying to keep this march as short as possible.)

Therefore, the entirety of Theon’s Winterfell arc occurs during this time, since Prince of Winterfell starts right after the announcement that Stannis has begun to march, and because accounting for a ~3 days' ride between WF and the Village, Theon I occurs ~3 days before The Sacrifice. We can actually reasonably sync these chapters, but for the most part we don’t really have to—Ghost of Winterfell begins four days prior to Theon I, so that only needs to align with Tycho's arrival, and the Turncloak can just happen somewhere in between. But:

The one interesting thing to note is the snow in The Turncloak, when snow begins to fall heavily ("by nightfall snow was coming down so heavily"), and the snowstorm begins. However, it is also in this chapter that two scouts return to inform Roose that Stannis’ host has begun to break apart in the snow and had "slowed to a crawl". Comparing that to Asha's updates, this is at the earliest ~1 week into the march by Asha’s count, or anytime afterward ("fourth day of the march... snow began to fall" + "third day of snow, the king's host had begun to come apart"). So, by the time it starts snowing at Winterfell, or Asha, it's already been snowing a few days, at minimum. Accounting for additional travel time back to Winterfell from wherever Stannis is, and considering that this report comes just as Winterfell is getting snow, that means Stannis’ host got the snow roughly over a week before the snow reached Winterfell.

Almost like the snowstorm is following Stannis there. ;)

Asha's Days

As for Asha and Jon’s storyline—where it actually matters here—it appears remarkably easy to compare time:

I believe Asha counting the days must be an exercise with narrative importance, and it's incredibly useful. As I said above, we can pin nearly to the day how much time elapsed from the beginning of Stannis’ march from Deepwood Motte until their arrival at the Crofter’s Village (no less than 34 days, cited above) and then add another 19 days at the Crofter’s Village in advance of Tycho’s arrival.

Together, the time from the beginning of The King’s Prize to the end of The Sacrifice is, at minimum, 53 days. Let's say Theon and Asha reunite on Day 53.

TWOW Theon appears to occur just before dawn the next day, and since The Battle at the Crofter’s Village appears to begin immediately after TWOW Theon ends, we’ll say that the Battle, therefore, is Day 54, or 7 weeks and 5 days following Stannis' departure from Deepwood Motte.

Jon's Moons

Meanwhile, every subsequent Jon chapter gives us either a moon phase or an account of days past:

Jon VII occurs during a new moon ("They had no moon to guide them home, and only now and then a patch of stars.") The weather is notably clear, clear enough that it's a plot element: this is the reason for heading to the weirwood grove now. When Jon returns he get the news of Stannis’ departure from Deepwood. We've allowed for some raven time, so we're calling this ~Day 3.

(As an aside, it’s been storming the last seven days, so the latest Mance could have left is a week prior, though obviously since we’re syncing this with Prince of Winterfell, Mance likely left earlier than that.)

Jon VIII occurs just before the half moon, about a week later. A moon "but half-full," to quote the text exactly. This is when Val departs to find Tormund. I interpret "but" to mean just before half-full, so we'll say this is 6 days later: ~Day 9.

Val says she will return on the "first night of the full moon." No one ever says she’s late, and Jon never worries about her being gone too long, so we can assume this is true—Val returns on the first night of the full moon, with Tormund, in Jon X. We can even be generous and say this is ~9 days later, and say Jon X occurs ~Day 18.

Since Val leaves in Jon VIII and returns a week later in Jon X, then Jon IX has just over a week’s period to occur. If we’re being generous, we can say this occurred only a few days after Jon VIII, around the actual half moon. Let's say Jon IX happens ~Day 11.

In Jon IX, Selyse arrives and declares she intends to stay “no more than a few days,” and while this prediction is not a trustworthy source, it might give us some kind of ballpark. Jon also notes the weather is clear in the morning for once, calling it a “respite.” He thinks the snows have "moved off to the south" (to Stannis?) but by the evening, the snow is "coming down more heavily". The next day, Tycho appears to be gone, and Alys arrives.

So: Tycho appears to leave just over 1 week after Jon VII, when Jon received word that Stannis planned to march on Winterfell. This way, it makes intuitive sense that Jon sent Tycho to Deepwood Motte—barely any time has passed. It seems entirely possible that Stannis had yet to leave, or at least that Tycho could catch up with him on the march. So far, this feels entirely believable and logical.

In Jon X, Alys weds. Flint and Norrey have "hied" (hurried) to Castle Black for the Wedding, which is possible if we've said that Jon IX was ~1 week ago. The snow is still falling "heavily". Jon receives a letter confirming that eleven ships have left Eastwatch for Hardhome (likely a few days prior). Val arrives that night—our full moon, we presume. Again, this is Day ~18.

Jon XI begins the next morning. ("that day" until "finally, as the shadows of the afternoon grew long"). There is no place to fit any time in between here and Jon IX, because this chapter includes Jon showing Val her new quarters ("I've had the top floor made ready for you"). This is ~Day 19.

Also in Jon XI, Jon notes that the snow has finally stopped after two weeks ("a fortnight"). The last time we know the weather was clear for more than a few hours (so clear it was a plot point!) was Jon VII, when Jon went to the weirwood grove. By our count of the moon, Jon VII was two weeks ago, so this lines up exactly.

Tycho

So: we've said Tycho leaves in Jon IX, which is just over a week since Jon VII. If, at an estimate, we're saying Jon VII probably occurred about a half a week after Stannis actually left, Tycho departed Castle Black 1.5 weeks into Stannis' march. Again—he could catch up here, so makes sense that Jon sends Tycho to Deepwood Motte first.

Meanwhile, thanks to Asha, we know Tycho makes it to Stannis’ camp 7.5 weeks after their departure, on Day 53. If we are roughly syncing the start of The King’s Prize half a week before Jon VII, and seeing Tycho set out from Castle Black only a week later, then Tycho takes ~6 weeks to reach Stannis, and he’s not a teleporting banker at all. ~42 days is plenty of time to reach Deepwood Motte, negotiate the exchange of hostages, travel to Winterfell in the storm, grab Theon, and then make it back to Stannis’ camp. Again, this makes sense.

Jon X—Jon XIII

However, we now run into the problem of how much time has passed since Tycho left.

We said before that Jon X and Jon XI (the next day) occur ~1 week after Tycho departs. Jon XI is ~Day 19.

After that, Jon XII occurs exactly three days following Jon XI—there’s no space to add any extra time here. In Jon XI, Tormund and Jon agree to let the Wildlings through in three days' time, and Jon XII follows that event proceeding as scheduled. We can safely place Jon XII ~1.5 weeks following Tycho’s departure. Jon XII is ~Day 22.

Jon XIII is the only remaining Jon chapter without a moon phase or a clear date. However, there are a number of events that demand it be soon after Jon XII.

First, there's Tormund's return. Back in Jon XII, Jon says Tormund will take men to Oakenshield in “within a day or two.” In Jon XIII, Toregg returns in the morning to announce that Tormund has settled his people at Oakenshield and is returning in the afternoon. Tormund arrives that afternoon.

Then, there's the matter of Hardhome. In Jon XII, he recieves news of the disaster at Hardhome ("Very bad here. Wildlings eating their own dead"). Jon XIII begins with Jon and Selyse discussing Hardhome, seemingly for the first time; Jon later discusses a Hardhome ranging with Marsh and Yarwyck, also for the first time; Melisandre also tries to stop Jon from leaving for Hardhome, also for the first time. Jon XIII occurs as soon as Jon makes the plan to leave for Hardhome. He sounds hurried; he says "they are starving at Hardhome by the thousands," and he makes a plan with Leathers to arrange the meeting in the Shieldhall in time for Tormund's return from Oakenshield—the only thing holding them up from leaving is Tormund's return.

Up to you how long you think Jon would have waited to discuss this—I don't think very long. In order to argue that more time passes between Jon XII and Jon XIII, we need to argue that Jon hears of the starving Wildlings eating their own dead and waits for weeks before acting.

Additionally, Cregan Karstark is taken out of the Ice Cells in Jon XIII after having been imprisoned there sometime before Jon X. Considering Jon X and Jon XII have to be four days apart, that's fine, and we might imagine that Cregan has been there for maybe over a week, or more. However, Jon spent four days in an ice cell in ASOS Jon X and in this time Alliser Thorne threatened that Jon would "die in there." With that comparison, we're limited in the timeline by imagining how much longer than ~1 week we can keep Cregan Karstark alive in the ice cells prior to his release in Jon XIII without him freezing to death first.

Soon after, the Bastard Letter arrives, and Jon is killed.

Personally, I think it’s most likely that Jon XIII occurs only a few days following Jon XII. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say we can put Jon XIII ~1 week following Jon XII, and being generous we’ll say that Jon dies ~2.5 weeks after Tycho departs Castle Black. That is, therefore, 3.5 weeks after Jon first heard word that Stannis was leaving Deepwood Motte, and (we're guessing) ~4 weeks after Stannis actually left.

So Jon dies on ~Day 30. By this count, Jon's dead, and Tycho Nestoris still won’t arrive at the Crofter’s Village for another ~3.5 weeks—he can't come any faster, Asha's been counting.

Next, I'm going to propose (and acknowledge) the ways that other versions of this timeline will fix this problem, though I don't like them exactly. Then, afterwards, I'm going to give a last piece of evidence why I believe in the version of events I've just described.

If you're unintersted in "what-ifs," scroll down to "The Snowstorm"

The Less Intuitive Version—where George sneaks in "The Mystery Month"

Because I'm arguing that Jon appears to die on ~Day 30, and Tycho doesn't even reach Asha until Day 53, in order for us to believe Jon XIII happened after TWOW Theon, we’d need to invent a month to add in to Jon’s storyline. Jon XIII has to occur after Day 60, at minimum.

I call this the “Mystery Month”—is there a missing month in Jon’s storyline, or isn’t there?

There a couple ways to make this happen, and I'll explain why I don't believe them.

The trouble with slow ravens

Number one, across the board, it feels very tempting to add buffer time by imagining that Stannis left Deepwood Motte even earlier than we estimate—maybe a whole week, or even longer, before Jon hears about it in Jon VII. The main issue with this strategy is that Stannis has to send the letter, so the raven leaves at latest when Stannis does, and so now we're arguing that a raven takes over a week to fly to reach Jon .... which means that now we're also adding additional estimated time for how long it took a raven to deliver the Pink Letter, and everything has to be pushed even earlier.

That is to say: if we said it takes two weeks for word to reach Jon before Jon VII, I would say now the "battle" in the Pink Letter has to happen weeks earlier to account for this extended raven time.

The long wait before Jon XIII

The first, simplest way to add a month, is that we say this: Jon XIII happens a month after Jon XII. It took Jon a month to plan for and to bring up Hardhome to Selyse, Selyse has waited over month to plan her weddings with Gerrick Kingsbloods’ daughters, and Tormund has been at Oakenshield for over a month. The Letter arrives a month after the Wildlings come through, and so long as the King’s Prize also began over a week before Jon gets the Letter about it in Jon VII, we can make this work. Tycho arrives on time, we skip ahead a month before Jon XIII, and then Jon dies after the battle.

Yes, this could be how it happens, No I do not think that it's convincingly possible that Jon XIII happens a month after Jon XII.

If we don't want to try to force in a lot of time between Jon XII and Jon XIII, there are a few other ways to attempt to solve this (though these are still three timelines of entirely my own invention):

Skipping a moon before Jon VIII

We could add a month in between Jon VII and Jon VIII, where Jon VIII is not the waxing half moon following Jon VII’s new moon, but the one after that. We're locked in at the moon cycle, so instead of one week, this has to be a ~5 week gap. The major issue with this is: we’ve lined up Jon VII roughly with the beginning of Stannis’ march, and Tycho still hasn’t arrived at Castle Black yet. If we place Jon IX right after Jon VIII again, we'll add a month to our previous estimate of Jon IX can say that Tycho leaves ~Day 39.

With this timeline, Tycho has ~2 weeks to catch up with Stannis’ host, reaching both Deepwood Motte and Winterfell along the way. This seems unbelievably fast (considering that Deepwood to Winterfell alone was over two weeks in good weather).

The thing is, that doesn’t even matter: since this doesn’t change our earlier estimate of how long Jon has left to live after Tycho’s departure (~2.5 weeks), that still means Jon dies roughly around the same time Tycho arrives.

There's an even bigger logical issue here: in this scenario, that means Jon, who heard five weeks ago that Stannis is marching on Winterfell—which is apparently a two-week march ("fifteen days")—still sent Tycho to Deepwood Motte to catch Stannis. Why would Tycho go to Deepwood first, and not Winterfell, if Jon learned Stannis marched five weeks before Tycho left? It's true that it happened to work out, but Jon wouldn't have known, at this point, how snowed in Stannis is.

The Val takes three weeks version

Alternatively, here everything is spread out more, which is closer in spirit to what the Unofficial Timeline suggests.

We can try to give both Val and Tycho a little more time before Val's return, but we’re always trapped in a moon cycle between Jon VIII and Jon X because otherwise Val’s promise to return at the full moon doesn’t make any sense. The best way to do this is to imagine that Val leaves on a waning half moon, rather than waxing half moon. This means that Val has three weeks to travel, and it also means we have move Jon VIII to three weeks after Jon VII (and therefore ~3 weeks into King’s Prize). Here, Jon VIII is ~Day 24.

(However, this is counterintuitive—it’s more natural to imagine that being shown a half moon following a new moon would mean the waxing half moon. Also, I believe it goes contrary to the actual description: Jon notes the moon was “but half full,” and the “but” makes it seem like it will be half-full soon, not that it just was. Again, we can allow it. This also means that when Val looks at the half-moon and says: look for me at the first week of the full moon, she doesn’t mean next week, she means in ~3 weeks from now—after the moon has gone to new and then back to full again. Once again, this feels very counterintuitive to say, but it will give us more time.)

In this version of events, Tycho and Alys can still arrive as early as right after Jon VIII, and therefore that Tycho left Castle Black ~3 weeks after Jon VII, roughly around ~Day 26. (Once again, this doesn’t make too much intuitive sense to me: why would Jon send Tycho to Deepwood Motte three weeks into a two-week march?)

This doesn’t change our count of time from Jon X—Jon XIII (a generous ~1.5 weeks) but now we’re saying say that Tycho left Castle Black three weeks prior to Jon X, so this gives us 4.5 weeks between Tycho’s departure and Jon’s death.

This solves the issue of the teleporting banker: Tycho leaves ~3 weeks into Stannis’ march and has ~4.5 weeks to make the trip, so he’s faster than Stannis but not impossibly fast. However, because the moon phases are still locking our ability to only month here for the moon to align, we still have Tycho arriving roughly the same time Jon dies.

Mystery Month+

Since we're trapped into a vague schedule by Jon's noted moon cycles, the only remaining option is to assume that one of the above is true, and that Jon XIII happens at least two weeks after Jon XII. That would also make the timeline work.

However, to me, this all seems highly counterintuitive and unlikely…

And that’s before we factor in the accounts of the weather.

Yes, I have one more piece of evidence to propose, and although this is a bit more debatable, I believe it corroborates my initial timeline.

The Snowstorm

Asha sets out from Deepwood Motte, and four days later, the snows begin. By a week into the march ("third day of snow"), the host has begun to separate, and slow to a crawl.

Around this time, or a little later, we imagine the Bolton scouts see the Stannis host struggling, and turn home to report back. Several days later, accounting for vague travel time (because Stannis is less than halfway to Winterfell by this point), they report this to Roose, and it begins to snow in Winterfell, too. Let's say, roughly, it begins snowing at Winterfell around ~2 weeks after Stannis departs, maybe adding a couple days. This is when The Turncloak happens—let's say ~Day 16.

Remember what I said about the snow in The Turncloak being interesting?

In Jon VII (at my estimate, ~Day 3) the weather is clear—clear enough that Jon heads north of the Wall. If we're aligning these moments, this seems to be true for Stannis, too.

The first we hear of snows to the south in Jon IX ("moved off to the south"), and in Jon X, we hear that south of Castle Black the "kingsroad was said to be impassable" from snowstorms. In Jon XIII, Yarwyck points out that the Wall is getting snow blown against it because the "wind's from the south". This is three different accounts of harsh weather to the south, and all of this points to this being the storm at Winterfell.

If we go back to my original timeline, Stannis leaves Deepwood Motte a little before Jon VII, and Jon X occurs two weeks later around ~Day 18. In that timeline, then those reports of impassable snows to the south line up exactly with when the snows appear to have hit Winterfell, from our estimation of the sync between King’s Prize and Turncloak. Snows hit Winterfell roughly ~Day 16, Jon gets reports that the Kingsroad is impassable ~Day 18. That lines up.

According to my proposed timeline, this is still four or five weeks before Tycho Nestoris arrives. A week later, in Jon XIII, when the winds from the south are only getting worse… that fits, because Asha and Theon have another three or four weeks of snow to go. And Jon is dead.

The End

TL;DR: Comparing Jon’s tracking of the moon, Asha’s tracking of the days, and accounts of the snowstorm around Winterfell all lead me to believe that Jon dies four weeks before Tycho Nestoris reaches the Crofter’s Village.

In my proposed timeline: Tycho leaves ~1 week after Stannis does, he takes ~6 weeks to make it to the Crofter’s Village, and Jon’s already been dead for a month. So, there's been a month since. This way, Jon sending Tycho to Deepwood makes sense, and Tycho taking 6 weeks to make the journey makes sense. The accounts of the snowstorms line up.

What doesn't make sense is: the Pink Letter arrives over a month too early to be real.

Implications

But what could I possibly be saying? I don't even really know. This is such an unusual conclusion that there is very little theorizing in the fandom about what this would mean.

.... Although, I do have a pet theory for this: it does feed into my desire for the Wildlings to make a surprise appearance in TWOW.

Take this with a grain of salt. BUT. We know from AGOT that it usually takes ~3 weeks to travel from Castle Black to Winterfell. That means that a Wildling host would have a month, or even five weeks, depending on timing, to have marched from Castle Black to Winterfell afterward, and could arrive at Winterfell right on time for Stannis to advance. If that were the case, it could explain why Stannis seems so unhurried at the Crofter's Village. Maybe he's waiting for them to arrive. It could work that way. I'm not getting into any other logistics here, because this is a tall tale to defend.

On the other hand, as much work as this was, I’d love to be proven wrong here! It's all in the name of science, if by science I mean obsessive analysis of fiction. If someone has a detail I’ve missed, please let me know.

TIMELINE

Day 0: King's Prize: Stannis Marches. The King's Prize begins.

Day ~3: Jon VII: New moon, word from Stannis.

Day 4: King's Prize: Snow begins for Asha.

Day ~6: Prince of Winterfell. Word from Arnolf that Stannis marches on Winterfell.

Day 7: King's Prize: Stannis' host begins to break apart in the snow.

Day ~9: Jon VIII: ~Half moon, Val departs and will return in ~a week.

Day ~11. Tycho Nestoris arrives and Jon sends him to Deepwood Motte. Jon notes it seems there are snows off to the south.

Day 15: King's Prize: Stannis has moved less than half the distance.

Day ~16. The Turncloak. It begins to snow heavily in Winterfell.

Day ~18. Jon X. Val returns, new moon. It's snowing heavily in Castle Black. Word comes that the Kingsroad south of Castle Black is impassable from heavy snow.

Day ~19. Jon XI. Jon meets with Tormund, shows Val her new quarters. Wildlings cross in three days.

Day 20. King's Prize: Asha loses her ankle chains because her horse dies.

Day ~22. Jon XII. The wildlings cross. Clear in the morning but Tormund notes snow will start again overnight. Tormund plans to go to Oakenshield in a day or two. Word of the Hardhome disaster.

Day 26. King's Prize: Stannis' host runs out of vegetables.

*Day ~30. Jon XIII, by my estimate. Jon plans to leave for Hardhome. Strong winds blowing snow from the south. Tormund returns from Oakenshield. Bastard Letter, Jon dies.

Day 32. King's Prize: Stannis' host runs out of grain.

Day 34. King's Prize: Stannis' host reaches the Crofter's Village.

Day 45. The Karstarks arrive at the Crofter's Village. (The Sacrifice)

Day 47. The Ghost in Winterfell: Ryswell man-at-arms found dead. Snow makes visibility outside Winterfell near-zero.

Day 48. Ghost in Winterfell: Aenys Frey's squire found dead in the morning. Flint crossbowman found dead in the afternoon. Stable collapses at night.

Day 49: Ghost in Winterfell: Yellow Dick found dead in the morning. Visibility so low Theon cannot see "three feet in front of him." Confrontation about whether Theon is the killer.

Day 50: Ghost in Winterfell: Theon stays up all night; just before the dawn the sounds of horns and drums outside wakes everyone Winterfell. Theon is found in the godswood by three of the spearwives and taken to meet Mance in the Burned Tower. Theon I: A raven arrives (from the Karstarks) informing Roose of Stannis' location. Theon and Jeyne escape and are found my Mors.

Day 53: The Sacrifice: Tycho Nestoris arrives with Theon, Jeyne, and the Ironborn from Deepwood Motte.

*Day 60: At minumum, earliest time Jon XIII can occur for the Pink Letter to be accurate.

#Genuinely curious what you all will have to say because I think I am actually fundamentally altering the discourse around the Pink Letter #jozor thoughts #asoiaf meta #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf analysis #Pink Letter #Bastard Letter #Jon Snow #asha greyjoy #theon greyjoy #asoiaf timeline #asoiaf fandom

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