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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

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strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part seventeen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

a bright spot, and some not so bright ones.

a/n: THE LONGEST PART YET. I crammed a lot in here honestly, and some of it probably pretty canon-divergent BUT we got two eps left and I still have a lot of unanswered questions which means we are RIFFING and I am MAKING SHIT UP OKAY but this is pretty much an au at this point sooooooo it is what it is

word count: 8.5k (I KNOW)

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, canon typical violence/injuries, blood, treatment of injuries, some pretty heavy violence, family fights, tHERE IS FLUFF ON THE WAY I PROMISE YOU OKAY (a bit in the next part, a looooooot in a few parts coming up)

✨follow @friskito-library for updates on new chapters/works!✨

You just stare at him.

For a moment, Joel’s gut fills with dread. Oh fuck, is he fucking this up even harder? He just spelled out every terrible thing he’s done to stay alive since the outbreak, has that changed things? You had your fair share of horrible things to share, but…Shit, how can he f—

Your eyes narrow slightly, and you slide towards him, inching further toward the edge of the mattress. You wrap both hands around his forearm, the ring held between you, your eyes darting between it and Joel’s face. “Ask me again.”

Heat rises in Joel’s face and he drops his head for a moment before he feels your fingers under his chin, lifting. “What’re you—”

“Ask me again,” you repeat, chewing your lip, an excited flare in your eyes, “so I know I’m not dreaming.”

Joel swallows, throat bobbing, and licks his lips before, “Marry me, Liv.”

Your gaze roams his face for a moment, silver tears lining your lashes. “Yes.”

As soon as he slides the ring onto your finger, you lunge for him, throwing your arms around his neck, the pair of you sprawling backwards on the floor. He grunts as he lands on his back, and you flinch, grabbing for his head. “Shit, Joel, are you okay?”

“M’fine,” he chuckles, laughing under his breath as you start peppering kisses all over his face. It’s nice, to see you like this, a different version of the Liv he’s come to know now, but with that spark, that excitement, that same girl he romanced in the aisles of a hardware store so long ago. You’re giddy, giggling into his mouth when he kisses you, twines his fingers in your hair.

You don’t move from the floor, and Joel hums when you fit yourself against him — like you haven’t been doing it all night. You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers, bending your thumb to rub it over the band. “Where’d you find it?”

“The jewelry store,” Joel replies, lifting his jaw until his mouth is pressed to your forehead. “The day you…” He trails off, chewing the inside of his cheek. It goes without saying, he realizes. The day you got bit. “Thought about giving it to you that night, but it didn’t feel right. And then when we got back…”

“My ex shot you in the head,” you finish, and immediately burst into laughter. Joel can��t help but laugh along, spurred more so by the lightness in your tone, the smile on your face. “There’s something funny in there, I think.”

“Poetic justice,” Joel says, but then his brow crinkles. “Or is it irony? I can’t remember.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you mumble, rolling up onto your elbow, lifting yourself slightly above him. You hold your hand up again, bring it closer for inspection. “It really is beautiful, Joel. I love it.”

Joel hums, trailing his fingers across your back. “I’m glad, baby.” You press your lips together, the giddiness fading slightly, and Joel can see it in your eyes, the way the wheels in your head are turning. “I know it’s not the same, no more big white dresses and all that, but I just—”

“I don’t care,” you declare, cutting him off. Your hand falls onto his chest, crawls up until his jaw is set in your palm, and you turn his face to yours. “It’s always been you, Joel. No question. I don’t need the big white dress.” You let out a little noise, half scoff, half laugh. “If things were…normal, I’d drag your ass to Vegas this very instant.”

“Well, I dunno above Vegas,” he replies, turning his face to kiss at your fingertips, “but there’s the FEDRA office down by the front gate and Tess brought back a bottle of Johnnie Walker from her last run.”

“Sounds like a wedding to me!”

In a shocking fucking twist, it doesn’t go as planned.

It’s two weeks later. You’re halfway home from the front gate office, marriage license tucked in Joel’s pocket, your ring tucked into your shirt. You wore it on your finger for the first day after Joel proposed, but it earned you a few looks walking through the QZ, so you were quick to find a chain in the piles of jewellery you’ve collected, stringing it around your neck for safer keeping.

Joel’s got his arm slung around your neck, mumbling to you about how he still hasn’t been able to find a replacement bed frame for your place, but that he saw some cinderblocks on the lower levels of the building across the street, and thinks he can make something temporary with that, that he thinks the box spring should be enough support. You’re listening, nodding along, your fingers laced with his, almost feeling drunk on the thought that he’s your husband now. Officially. Signed on the dotted line and everything. Mrs. Miller, nice to meet you.

You’re going back to your place. Both Tommy and Tess were thrilled for you both — and you didn’t miss Tommy’s sidelong glance at Tess — and agreed to dinner and drinking after you and Joel went to sign the papers. Truly the best way to celebrate anything in the QZ.

You are listening to what Joel’s saying, having moved on from your broken bed frame to the space beneath your wardrobe, how he thinks he can piece out the floorboards so you can stash stuff at home and still keep it hidden. You are listening, but you’re also distracted, glad that he’s directing you home, cuz your eyes are stuck on his ridiculously handsome. You’ve never seen his hair this long — though the space above his right ear is still much shorter — but it’s wavy, flipping out around his ears, curling against the back of his neck.

How is it possible that Joel Miller has managed to get better looking as the fucking world has ended?

“Baby, what’re you lookin’ at?” he asks, his brow raising slightly.

You go to answer, lips parted to tell him exactly what you’re looking at, when the sound of gunfire makes you jump. Instantly, Joel is pushing you against the nearest building, using his body to shield you. The ground beneath you shakes as a FEDRA truck parked at the next intersection explodes, flames curling towards the sky, debris raining down. Joel pulls you into a crouch, shuffles you back until you can slip into an alleyway.

You’re both in fight mode, instantly. Of course, you don’t have any weapons handy; the bat is stowed beneath the floorboards in the apartment, the guns are all in the cache, except for Joel’s revolver, which is tucked alongside your bat. Joel presses you against the brick, one hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“You okay?”

“M’fine,” you reply, gripping his wrist, peering back up the alley. Worry is twisting your gut. “What the fuck was that?”

“Dunno,” Joel replies, shaking his head. His brow is furrowed, the crease between deeper than usual, and you want nothing more than to smooth it flat, make him relaxed. Fuck this fucking—

“FREE BOSTON, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

The ground shakes again, screams echoing from the mouth of the alley and you…

You freeze. Your throat seizes, stomach dropping into your toes, and suddenly, it’s 2003 all over again. You’re stuck in that godforsaken bookstore, being yanked out of sleep by the sound, the ground beneath your feet rumbling, people screaming and Infected howling and it won’t stop, it won’t stop, make it stop, why won’t it—

“Liv,” Joel calls, his voice louder than your thoughts, and you’re pulled out of it, almost. The ground shakes again, someone shouts, gunfire echoes, and you whimper. “Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here. I’m gonna get you home, all right? You’re okay.”

He crushes you to his chest, his arms a tight band around your torso. You’re gripping the front of his shirt like a lifeline, and your breaths are coming so fast you’re instantly lightheaded, your vision blurring at the edges. There’s more gunfire, and you let go of his shirt only to clap your hands over your ears, burying your face in his chest.

More shouting, and Joel’s grip on you tightens. It takes you a moment to realize he’s shouting too, and you can just make it out. “What the fuck is a Firefly?”

Confusion takes over the panic, and you peel your face from his chest just enough to glance down the alley. McCoy is standing there, gun brandished, a hard expression as he looks between you and Joel. Beyond the alley, another bomb explodes, another truck, and you all flinch, Joel shielding you further.

“I’m taking you both in,” McCoy shouts, and Joel releases you only to push you behind him. “I have to.”

“The hell you are,” he spits, an arm held out to the side. “I need to take her home.”

“C’mon, Joel,” McCoy replies, shaking his head. “You know I have to—”

“You don’t have to fuckin’ do anything,” Joel shouts, and you grip the back of his shirt. “You really think we’re stupid enough to hang around if we planted that shit?”

Somewhere, you find your voice. “Who are the Fireflies?”

The soldier’s brow goes hard, and he lowers the gun. The knot in your stomach unravels slightly. “You really don’t know?”

“Does it sound like we know, McCoy?” you retort, stepping closer to Joel, still keeping yourself behind him. “We’re in the wrong place at the wrong time. Clearly.”

“Who are the Fireflies?” Joel repeats, and you can hear more soldiers shouting in the street, the explosions apparently over. You curl your fingers tighter in the fabric of Joel’s shirt.

McCoy steps towards you, glancing over his shoulder as he does. “It’s a rebel group, we think. No one really knows who’s running it, where they’re based, but we know this is them. Someone caught wind of it, and well, it’s—”

“Just let us go, McCoy,” you call, shuffling a step back, taking Joel with you. “You know we’re not part of this.”

He sighs, letting his gun drop, waving at you both. “Just get the fuck out of here, will you?”

You tug on Joel’s shirt, and he falls into step with you, the both of you turning down the alley, Joel with his arm around your shoulders again. You’re in a good spot; near enough to one of your shortcuts through the city to get home without crossing any patrol paths. You feel like a spooked cat the entire way, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, your spine tingling with every step.

It’s not until you’re back in the apartment that your body relaxes slightly, but your heart is still racing, sinking into a kitchen chair the moment it’s within reach, pushing your face into your hands. Joel locks the door, crosses to the window, peers past the curtain.

“Fuckin’ car bombs in the QZ,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You gotta be kiddin’ me. Like the fuckin’ infection isn’t enough to deal with, now we gotta worry about getting blown to shit in the middle of the—”

“Joel, stop it,” you blurt, hands pressed against your eyes. “Please, just…just stop.”

“Baby,” he calls, his tone changing, softening, and a moment later you hear the chair beside yours squeak across the floor, a warm palm on your leg. “It’s okay. Talk to me. What happened back there? You…you shut down, Liv.”

You swallow hard, your heartbeat in your throat, and slowly lower your hands. “It’s one thing, talking about what happened back then. When it all first…happened. Dean, the bombings, the hiding, Nick. But…feeling it again, feeling like I was right back there, like no time had passed, like I was still…”

You trail off, voice cracking on the words, and Joel reaches for you. You let him, let him gather you into his lap, hold you in his arms, bury your face in his neck, inhaling deeply. He rubs slow circles across your shoulders, up and down your spine, over and over until you can feel your heart slowing to a normal rate, your breathing no longer shallow, the wetness in your eyes receding.

After a while, he slides his hand up and into your hair, tugs light until you lift your face to look at him. “I want you to listen to me,” Joel says, his voice soft, his tone gentle. “We go nowhere without each other, you understand? I won’t let anything happen to you, Fireflies or Infected or FEDRA. No one’s taking you from me, not now, not ever. You hear me?”

You nod. “I hear you.”

Joel brushes the hair from your face, a tiny grin tugging at his lips as he cups your cheek in his palm, thumb swiping over the curve. “I love you,” he pauses, grins wider, “Mrs. Miller.”

The knot in your gut disappears completely, replaced with a rush of happiness that almost knocks you over. You can’t stop yourself from grinning into his kiss, melting into him as you go.

In the weeks following the Firefly attack, you’re reluctant to leave the apartment, but Joel doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t push, goes with you to the food bank just to get you outside, lets you tag along with him to do odd jobs around the building. Tommy asks, but Joel brushes his brother off, telling him you’ve had a hard time finding QZ jobs that appeal.

After a particularly long day, one that has him blowing his hair out of his face all day, he comes home in a mood. You had followed him earlier in the day, but headed down a few hours before, claiming that you wanted to play housewife and have dinner waiting when he got home. You could barely get the sentence out without choking on giggles, and Joel had kissed you soundly and pushed you in the direction of the stairs. The moment he’s through the door, he’s grumbling at you that he’s gonna shave his fucking head, pushing unruly curls off his forehead.

“You will do no such thing, Joel Miller,” you chide, locking the door after him, directing him to one of the kitchen chairs. “Sit. I’ll fix it.”

You fetch a pair of scissors from the bathroom, metal-handled ones he’s never seen before, but you don’t start cutting straight away. You stand behind him, and drag your fingers through his hair. He doesn’t know the last time he let it get this long; probably sometime back when he was a teenager, when every rockstar had long hair and he still had dreams of something not construction-related.

Joel sinks into your touch, your nails raking along his scalp. He lets his head tip back, resting against your stomach, and you laugh quietly, moving one hand along his jaw, scratching through his beard. Fuck, it feels nice, and he can’t stop the moan that slips out, one arm bending back to keep you where you’re standing. “Keep doin’ that.”

He blinks up at you, and you smirk, pulling your hand back up to his scalp, dragging your nails through his hair again. “Can’t do this if you shave your head.”

Joel grunts. “It’s too fuckin’ long,” he tells you, and you hum, cupping the back of his head and lifting it straight again. “Keeps gettin’ in my eyes and shit.”

“Stay still,” you order, tilting his head slightly, leaning down to kiss his scar. “I’ll fix it.”

He loathes the loss of your hands as you pick up the scissors. You’re slow with it, methodical, pieces of his hair falling to the floor around the chair. You pause a few times to flick it off his shoulders. When you get around his head to the left side, he flinches at the suddenly much louder sound of the scissors, and you grip his shoulder.

“Joel?”

He’s been meaning to tell you. Really. He realizes this is turning into his M.O., to keep things to himself, to keep you out of the loop. And it’s not fair; you’re his wife now. He knows he has to tell you. He promised to keep you safe, and with this…how can he do that? How can he feel confident in his ability to keep his promises to you?

Joel opens his mouth to say it, to tell you what’s going on with him, but you beat him to the punch.

“I wanna go on a run.”

Everything in him stalls, the words on the tip of his tongue sliding back down his throat. “What?”

“I need to get out of the QZ, Joel. Even just a short one. Other side of the city, not where we…” You trail off. He catches your meaning. “We take Tess with us, or Tommy. Doesn’t really matter, I just…” You pause, pulling a lock of his hair between your fingers, snipping the end. “I need to do this, Joel. And you said it, we go nowhere without each other. I won’t go without you, but I need to.”

He’s silent, for a long moment. You don’t say anything more, continuing his haircut. Finally, you put the scissors down on the table, coming to step in front of him, leaning against the edge of the table. You reach up to brush his hair across his forehead, inspecting your handiwork. “How’s it look?”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “Handsome as ever.”

He reaches for your hand, tugging it between his own. “Liv, there’s somethin’…somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you.”

Joel can see the dip in your expression. He can almost hear your heart sink, and his gut twists with guilt as you lean back an inch, bracing yourself. “What is it?”

“Ever since that night, with Cowan,” he starts, finding himself struggling with the words. “Since he shot me, I—” He grunts, scrubs his hand over his face, staring down at your linked hands. “My hearing’s been off, in my right ear. Like it’s full of cotton or somethin’. I can’t…if we go out there again, Liv, I don’t know if I can,” he shakes his head, “if I can keep you safe.” He forces himself to look up at you. “I couldn’t keep you safe the last time we were out there, and after the Fireflies, I promised. I won’t let anything happen to you. I can’t. But out there, I’m—”

“Oh, Joel,” you nearly sigh, pulling your hand from his grip to cup his face in your hands. Your thumbs swipe his cheeks, and he lets himself sink into your touch, inhaling as you push your fingers through his hair again, mussing it into place. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I thought it would go away, eventually. That it was just a temporary thing, y’know? But it’s not, and I…” He shakes his head again. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Why are you apologizing?” you ask, sliding forward until you’re almost in his lap. “This isn’t your fault. It’s Nick’s.” He sees the hardness forming in your eyes. “Or…I guess it’s my fault, in a way.”

“No,” Joel says instantly, his hands finding your hips, squeezing. “You didn’t cause this.” Your head drops forward, and he kisses your forehead. “Feels like every time I turn around, there’s something else to fight off. I just want you safe, baby.”

Your hands slide through his hair, down the back of his neck, kneading at the meat of his shoulders. “And who keeps you safe, huh? That’s my job, isn’t it?” He nods, eyes falling from your face to your collar, where the chain around your neck is visible, the chain holding the ring he gave you. “If the Fireflies get bad, if we have to leave Boston, then we need to be prepared. And sitting around here doing nothing isn’t gonna help with that. So, we go for a run. We go to the radio room and see who we can contact, arrange something. We’ll ask Tommy to come; I love Tess but your brother’s a better shot by a landslide. And I guard your right side, no matter what.” You lean in and kiss his temple. “We’re a team, Joel. Always.”

He nods, tries to ignore the unease that twists his gut. “Always.”

“We still need to celebrate, y’know,” Tommy says to you, leaning forward so he can see you on the other side of Joel. “Since your wedding day got a bit overshadowed.”

Joel snorts. “There’s a fuckin’ word for it.”

You chuckle, letting yourself fall back half a step, the brothers slightly ahead of you. You’re on full alert, head on a swivel, ears pricking at every little noise. “At least the Fireflies have been quiet since then.”

“They’re just doing what they think is right,” Tommy says, and both your head and Joel’s snaps in his direction.

“You sound almost sympathetic, little brother,” Joel tells him, and you can see the way Tommy bristles at the nickname. “Like you agree with it.”

Tommy shrugs, adjusts his grip on his gun. “FEDRA’s been wreaking just as much havoc these days,” he says, and your brow hardens. “You know they’re gonna start hanging people for getting caught out past curfew? Like we’re goin’ back in fuckin’ time or something.”

You sidestep a piece of debris, catching up to Joel completely again. “Getting caught outside the QZ has always been a death sentence,” you say, “this isn’t anything new, unfortunately.”

“Says the woman who was nearly beat to death by a FEDRA officer.”

“Tommy,” Joel says, his tone warning. “Why are we talking about this, anyway? You been talking to Fireflies?”

The younger Miller says nothing, and you just keep going.

You pointedly went in the opposite direction you and Joel had gone that day when you met Gwen. Just looking in that direction sends a chill down your spine, but you’re determined. Since that day in the QZ, when they blew up the trucks, you’ve been trying to push through it. The feeling still lingers, that terror, and you’re coming to realize that the terror is just…a part of life now. Joel helps, of course; his presence alone is enough to remind you that you’re not back there, that you’re still alive, that you can keep going, that you survived.

That you’re immune.

It’s another thing to add to the list, another tick in the back of your mind. Immune. You’ve gotten in the habit of tucking your shirts in on that side, just in case, not wearing anything that might ride up and show where you were bit.

You think about Anna, often. You wonder what happened, what FEDRA did. You try not to let your mind wander someplace dark, but it’s hard. You hope it was quick, painless. You hope she didn’t suffer.

My baby sister.

You’ve been good, thus far, keeping it a secret. Joel is a brick fucking wall, and you know he’s the last person you have to worry about letting anything slip. You feel bad, Tommy and Tess not knowing, but you know it’s safer this way, that they don’t. It would just put them at risk. Joel knowing is enough of a risk.

Letting Nick live with the knowledge was a risk, and look where that got you.

The thought has wormed its way into your mind more than once. Should you turn yourself in? Show them the scar, tell FEDRA just how long it’s been since you were bit? Let them haul you off to some facility, poke and prod and maybe kill you in the end? Is it safer that way?

What if you’re the answer? What if you’re the cure?

You’ve heard it before. Miracle cures, the answer to the infection, the final easy fix. Maybe that’s what you are. Maybe it’s not luck. Maybe it’s something else.

But whenever that thought appears, it’s accompanied by another. Joel’s voice, rasped in your ear.

No one’s taking you from me, not now, not ever.

And then when he told you about his hearing…

You can’t leave him. You can’t do it. Is that selfish? Probably. Just add it to your list of sins. It’s long enough by now. What’s one more?

The drop goes off without a hitch — bullets and rations from a group in Providence — and it’s like a sigh of relief, a weight off your shoulder. You and Joel share a knowing smile, and you notice Tommy is still a touch distracted, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. You don’t say anything, and neither does Joel.

You’re nearly halfway back, when you hear the scream, that inhuman noise that sends your heart racing every single time. Joel leads you behind a large truck, the three of you ducking low to wait for the Infected to pass. Tommy lifts his gun, peering through the scope, but Joel grabs the barrel. “Don’t,” he tells his brother, his tone almost scolding, and you nearly smack his shoulder.

Before the argument can even start between the brothers, a loud shot echoes through the street, the bullet finding a home in the Infected’s head, sending it stumbling forward before it slumps onto the ground. You slide towards the other side of the truck, peering around the truck, in the direction the bullet came from.

Eyes clap onto you before you can even think to hide.

“Liv?”

Fuck.

Joel’s staring at you, his gaze hard as steel, and your heart picks up in your chest. As far as Gwen and the people from Hartford know, you died that day. I’ll deal with it, Joel had said. Someone had cocked a gun, and he’d pushed them all out, claimed the burden for himself. But as far as they knew, you never made it back to Boston. Nearly three months ago, now, and yet here you are. Alive. Breathing.

Immune.

“I saw you, Liv,” Gwen shouts, and you nearly bang your head against the truck as Joel rises slightly, just enough to see who’s out there. “Come on out.”

“Fuck,” Joel grunts, and on his other side, Tommy looks between you two, his brow pinched with confusion.

“What?”

“Just keep low and keep your eye out,” Joel tells him, his voice low, and Tommy nods.

Slowly, you get to your feet, step around the truck, your hands in the air, gun hanging across your chest. There are four other men with Gwen, two faces you recognize from that day. Her brother, Trevor, and another man you never got the name of. As soon as you’re in the open, five guns are pointed at you, and behind you, you hear the click of Joel’s gun, not needing to turn to know he’s got his own weapon pointed at them, sweeping back and forth.

“Hi, Gwen.”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she says, and you’ve never heard her voice so harsh. Every interaction you had with her, before that day, it was always pleasant. You were just survivors, trying to make your way, wanting what was best for your people. Now that you see her, she looks different. Her face is more sunken, her features more pronounced. She looks unwell — not infected, but not good. “I saw it myself. You got bit.”

“I did.”

“And you went back to Boston?” she almost spits, her face screwed up as she says it. “You put all those people at risk?”

“We waited it out,” you say, your hands still in the air. “I never turned, and so we went back. That was almost three months ago, Gwen. If it was gonna happen, it would have happened already.”

Her expression changes, and one of the men to her right says something. His gun lowers slightly, and so does Gwen’s as she turns to him. You’re too far away to make it all out, but you catch a few words.

Fireflies. Immune. The answer.

When Gwen’s eyes slide back to you, you have a pretty clear idea how this is gonna go. You remember what she told you when you met that day; that Hartford wasn’t what it used to be, that things were changing. If you had to guess, the Fireflies aren’t just infesting Boston.

“You’re coming with us,” she says, simply, like she’s discussing the weather. “The Fireflies have a plan, Liv. You could be part of that.”

“Like hell!” Joel shouts, and you turn your head slightly to see both him and Tommy on their feet, guns pointed toward the Hartford crew. “Anyone touches her, I won’t fuckin’ hesitate. We’re leaving.”

“James, grab her!” Gwen orders, and the man closest to you lunges forward, crossing the short distance between you. His hand extends towards you, and Joel’s first shot sounds, rippling through the air, the echo ringing through your head.

The first bullet rips through James’ extended hand. He screams, stumbling to the side, and you hear the yank of the bolt handle, a casing clattering onto the asphalt. Another man lunges forward, bullets shattering the windows of the truck, and Joel’s second bullet hits the other man in the throat. Blood sprays as he falls, hot on your face, and the third bullet hits James again, right in the temple. Tommy’s gun is automatic, and you see Gwen and the other two men drop behind cover as he shoots.

“Liv, get down!” Joel shouts, and you drop like a stone, crawling back towards the truck. There’s enough space for you to slide beneath it, and you squeak as a bullet clips the heel of your boot. You’re nearly there, hands scrabbling against broken asphalt, when a hand wraps around your ankle, yanks you backward. Your stomach scrapes the gravel, making you scream.

Tommy drops the third man.

You kick off the limp hand, and surge forward again, under the truck. Joel reaches down and hauls you the rest of the way, his gun still pointed at the Hartford people. Tommy’s staring through his scope.

“It doesn’t haven’t to be like this!” Gwen shouts, her voice strained. You wonder if Tommy hit her. “Just come with us. We could fix everything! I’ll kill both your men and drag you to the Fireflies if I have to. Don’t make me do this, Liv!”

Joel stares at you. There’s blood on your face — not your own — and blooming under your fingers, beneath your shirt. “You okay?”

“Scraped,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine.”

His jaw goes tight. “We can’t leave them alive, Liv.”

The thought sinks like a stone through you, but you understand. Hartford was changing, who knew what that meant. Who knew what kind of hell might rain down on you if Gwen made it back to the rest of her people, if she regrouped and came after you again?

“You can save everyone, Liv!” Gwen nearly screams, and you lift your head slightly, just enough to see where she and her final man are. It’s a clear fucking shot. You look at Joel, reach for your sidearm, the smaller pistol strapped to your thigh. He nods, and you nod back; behind you, Tommy is breathing heavily.

“Don’t make me do this, Gwen!” you shout back, your voice hoarse. “Just let us go! Forget you ever saw me!”

“You know I can’t do that.”

You and Joel both rise at the same time, aim already locked, triggers pulled in unison. The final two drop together, and instantly, you stumble to the side, emptying your stomach into the gutter. The street is suddenly eerily silent, and a moment later, you feel a warm hand on your back, rubbed up your spine.

“You’re okay,” Joel says, and you just nod. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, spit onto the ground. Joel offers you a water bottle, and you mumble your thanks. He throws his arm around you once you’re upright, pulls you against his chest, palm against the back of your neck. “We had to.”

“I know,” you say, nodding. “She would have killed you both. I know that.”

It’s shit rationale, maybe, to anyone else. Your hands are shaking, and you step away to holster your gun, shove both hands through your hair. You can feel Joel looking you over, reaching out to wipe the blood from your face with the sleeve of his shirt. Your heart is still racing.

Then Tommy speaks, and your stomach plummets into your toes.

“Either of you wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

You open your mouth to explain, the story on the tip of your tongue, but Joel beats you to it. He reaches for you, wraps his hand around your wrist. “You can’t tell anybody, Tommy.” Joel moves himself in front of you, shielding you from his brother, and you can’t tell if it’s intentional or instinctual. “You need to keep your mouth shut.”

The younger Miller steps sideways, meeting your eyes over Joel’s shoulder. “You’re immune?”

Slowly, you nod. “Just like Anna.”

Tommy’s eyes slide to Joel. “You told her?”

“It was the only way to get her to stop beggin’ me to put a bullet in her head,” Joel answers, and your spine prickles with the memory. “Last run we went on. We got cornered in the drugstore near the edge of the city. And she…” He glances at you, something so sad in his eyes that your gut twists. “She got bit.”

“Gwen and her men were there,” you supply, stepping around Joel slightly. “We met them for a drop; that’s when we got cornered, and she…she saw it, the bite. She thought I was a goner, but Joel said he’d deal with it, and they left.”

“And now they’re dead,” Tommy snaps, and you flinch. You’ve never heard his voice so stern. “You came back to Boston, after all that? You put that whole fucking city at risk, Liv! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“We waited it out, Tommy,” Joel spits, and you can hear the anger rising in his tone. “You remember Anna. It was the same. Liv is the same. It’s been months now.”

“I’ve stayed off the radio since then,” you offer, another pitiful excuse, “in case Gwen came across the wrong channel. Joel arranged the drop today, and no one else knows.” You glance over your shoulder. “They would have killed you both, Tommy.”

“You promised,” he grits, staring at his brother. “The moment we were all in Boston, you promised me, Joel. You fucking swore.”

“I’m protecting my family,” Joel replies, his hands clenching into fists. You reach out, squeeze his arm, but he just goes even more tense. “I’m protecting you.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, a tension in the air you feel like you could cut with a knife. Tommy’s gaze slides to you again. “Tess doesn’t know?”

“Nobody knows,” you repeat. “No one. Except for Cowan.”

Tommy’s eyes go wide. “You told a fucking FEDRA soldier?!”

“Not on purpose,” you sigh. “He figured it out. That’s why he took Deanna and the kids.” You can feel the tell-tale prick of tears behind your eyes. “I never meant for any of this, Tommy.”

Those dark eyes — darker than Joel’s — pin you in place for a moment that manages to feel like an eternity. Finally, he tears his gaze away, slings his gun over his shoulder, and starts heading back in the direction of the city.

Joel reaches for your hand, and you follow suit, leaving the bloody street behind you.

Joel keeps a careful eye on his brother.

He’s always felt like he could trust Tommy. Sure, he was a bit of a shit when they were growing up, always relying on Joel for one thing or another. Bail money or a case of beer or a job or a part for his truck, the list went on and on. Joel never once felt like he was owed something, like there was some debt for his brother to repay. Tommy’s family, that’s just the way it is. The way it’s always been.

After that first night, after Sarah, Joel knows a part of him disappeared. He knows he scared the shit out of his brother, forced him into the protector position that has always run thickly in Joel’s blood. It was close, too close, on multiple occasions, Joel too buried in his grief to see what was coming and Tommy too distracted by Joel to react quickly enough. But they managed, they stayed alive.

They got to Boston. Too much blood on their hands, but they made it. And Tommy’s right: Joel promised. He promised no more.

But then there you were. There you are.

I’m protecting my family.

The look in Tommy’s eye, as you all walked away from the fight, it still sits in the back of Joel’s mind, weeks later. He’s always felt like he could trust his brother, that he could trust him to keep his secrets, have his back. Have your back.

And for the first time in his life, he doubts that. It gnaws at him like a disease, an annoying tug in his stomach that twitches to life every time he crosses paths with his brother.

Tommy starts ditching jobs. The lists of repairs are usually doled out early in the morning, and they’ll look them over together, pick out the ones that can be done solo, which need an extra set of hands. Tommy meets him in the morning, but by the afternoon, his brother is nowhere to be found, and Joel ends up picking up the slack himself. It reminds him oddly of the old days, when Tommy was fresh off of Desert Storm, when he claimed he just needed to keep his hands busy, but would bail on Joel halfway through the day, slinking off to some bar or another.

Three times in the same week, Joel heads for a repair they’ve agreed to do together, and Tommy never shows. He asks Tess about it, hoping she might have some insight, but she’s just as confused. “He leaves at morning curfew, and he’s home by evening curfew. I don’t know what he does; he doesn’t tell me. I always assume he’s with you.”

On the fourth no-show, Joel has had it. He ditches his own repair, promising to come back and fix the creaky floorboard first thing in the morning, and heads into the city. Dark clouds loom overhead, the threat of summer rain as he loops up and down the streets, searching the few crowds that linger along the sidewalks.

The Fireflies have been quiet since that first ambush, but Joel’s heard a thing or two on the radio. He knows a few of the buildings that have been tagged as hideouts, caches and the like. He stalks past them all, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets, trying to look as casual as possible.

But when he sees Tommy slinking out of the building on the corner of Stillman and Cross, he can’t keep his cool.

His brother hasn’t seen him, and shouts with surprise when Joel grabs him by the collar, hauls him into the nearest alleyway and shoves him against the bricks. “Jesus fuckin’ christ, Joel!”

“What the fuck are you doing, Tommy?” Joel sneers, anger flaring in his gut. “Did you tell them?”

“The fuck is wrong with you? You want us both thrown in lockup?” Tommy grits back, and as the rumble of a FEDRA truck grows closer, Joel releases him, takes a step back, puts a foot of space between them. “You can relax, big brother. I didn’t tell them about your girl.”

“My girl?” Joel repeats, brow creasing. “She’s my wife, Tommy. The fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’re telling me you don’t feel the least bit guilty for what we did to those people? How can you be okay letting Liv walk around here, knowing she—”

He never gets the rest of the sentence out. Joel throws a punch, feels the crunch of his brother’s nose against his knuckles. Tommy decked him once, decades ago, when they were teenagers. They’d gone after the same girl without the other knowing, and when Joel came home pleased as a peach, Tommy was less than impressed when he found out why. Joel had a black eye for a week.

He stalks from the alley the moment Tommy’s back upright, clutching his face. Joel’s knuckles sing with pain, and he heads straight for your apartment before he can do any more damage.

Joel glares at you. “Your spaghetti is not a cure-all, baby. It’s not gonna fix this.”

You huff, tying off the gauze around his knuckles. “Sure it is. When’s the last time we had family dinner, anyway?” Joel opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to the punch. “Too long. Everything has been too tense since everything…happened, and we need something good, Joel. All of us.”

He lifts his brow, pulling his bruised hand out of your grip to reach forward, tugging the chain from where it’s hidden in your shirt, poking his finger through your ring. “Us getting married wasn’t good enough for you?”

You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head, but kiss him anyway, nails scratched through the hair at his temples. It’s the best feeling in the world. “You know what I mean.” He tries to chase your lips for a deeper kiss, but you pull away before he can, pushing back your chair and starting to collect the first aid supplies from the table. Joel watches the sway of your hips as you take it to the bathroom, reappearing a moment later. “Besides, it’s too late; I cornered Tommy this morning and he already agreed, Tess too.”

Joel heaves a sigh. “You’re a menace.”

Your mouth splits in a grin. “And you love me anyway.”

It’s been a few days, since he cornered Tommy outside the Firefly building. As far as he knows, his brother hasn’t skipped out on a job since, but he’s steered clear of Joel, which is just as well. It’s taken a few days for Joel’s temper to settle.

You weren’t exactly impressed with him, when he got home that night. You’ve relaxed some, gone out for a few gigs with Tess, still hesitant to be apart from Joel, but more comfortable than he’s seen you since the car bombs. His knuckles were split, a deep throbbing in his fist, and you’d scowled at him, ordered him to sit at the table while you found something to clean the blood with. And that was before he told you what had happened.

“Fuck, Joel,” you’d nearly shouted, leaning back in your chair, visibly exasperated. “He was never supposed to find out. No one was supposed to find out.”

“I know, baby,” he said, and reached for you with his good hand, curled it around your knee. “I don’t think he’ll—”

“Maybe I should turn myself in,” you said, and Joel felt like the world had dropped out from under him. His chest went tight, suddenly a thousand pounds. His vision is blurry around the edges, breath hitched in his throat, and he nearly topples out of the chair. “Joel?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt panic like that, not at first. But then it barrelled into him like a freight train, left him reeling as you slid off your chair and onto your knees in front of him. You were talking, calling his name, grabbing his face, but his mind was somewhere else.

It’s not the same sort of panic, but it’s similar. Similar to the racing heart and short breaths he felt that night, similar to the helplessness he felt when that soldier cornered them, rained hell, took the one thing Joel had left, ripped it away like it was nothing. Left him empty, barely a shell of what he was.

Just a shell of a man with a broken watch he still can’t seem to take off.

Turn myself in.

What would FEDRA do to you? Haul you off to some facility, take your blood and test you like some kind of animal? What if he never saw you again?

What if it killed you?

He couldn’t—

“Joel,” you’d nearly yelled, surging upwards and wrapping your arms around his neck. His nose found your neck, your pulse thumping against his forehead, and the familiar scent of you eased him some. “You’re scaring me. Come back. I’m right here, okay? I’m not…” You trailed off, your voice thick as he slide his arms around your waist and held you closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Since that day, you’ve been watching him as closely as he’d been watching his brother, no subtlety whatsoever, not that Joel minds. He’s always liked the feel of your eyes on him.

Now, you push a hand through your hair, wrinkling your nose. “I seriously need a hair wash before they show up. Start the pasta, would you? Stupid flourless crap takes forever to cook.”

Joel chuckles. “Okay, baby.”

There’s a knock at the door ten minutes later, and Joel hopes it’s Tess, knowing full well he’s not quite ready to be alone with his brother again. His knuckles ache just with the thought.

But sure enough, Tommy’s on the other side of the door.

“We need to talk,” his brother says by way of greeting, pushing past Joel into the apartment. “Where’s Liv?”

“She’s in the—” Joel starts to answer, but Tommy cuts him off.

“We have to give her to the Fireflies, Joel. We have to.”

Joel’s chest goes tight again, the same way it had when you mentioned turning yourself in. You meant FEDRA, Tommy means the Fireflies. His head is spinning. “Tommy—”

“I’ve been talking to their leader, this woman Marlene? Joel, they have facilities out West, doctors and labs and people who are working on a cure. Liv could be the answer to all of it, Joel. Just like the Hartford people said: she could save everyone.”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Joel grumble, shaking his head. His heartbeat is in his ears, nearly drowning out his brother’s words, almost twice as loud in his bad ear. “Just don’t—”

“We could fix this, Joel. If we give her to Marlene, she can take her to the facility. I’m sure she’d let you go with her, if you would just talk to Liv, both of you talk to Marlene, we could—”

“Shut up, Tommy!” Joel roars, and his brother’s eyes go wide as he stumbles back a step. “I’m not talking to any fuckin’ Fireflies, and no one is takin’ my Liv anywhere, you understand me? I won’t…I won’t put her at risk, Tommy, not again!”

Tommy stares at him for a long moment, and for a second, Joel thinks he’s said enough, that his brother won’t cross the line again, that he won’t try to push any harder.

But he’s wrong.

“She could be the answer to everything, Joel. Everything. They could make all of this go away.”

“Or they could kill her,” Joel spits, hands curled into fists at his sides. His chest hurts. “And I will die before I let that happen.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“Don’t say another word, Tommy, I swear. I hit you once, and goddamnit, I’ll do it again.”

“Joel—”

“Tommy, I said don’t!”

Wordlessly, Tommy points over his shoulder, and Joel spins to see you standing there, your eyes big and watery, arms crossed, hands gripping your biceps. This time, it’s you that calls his name, and Joel all but runs to you, puts himself in front of you, protecting you.

He knows what’s coming; it’s like he feels the words before they’re out of his mouth, twisting around his heart all over again. His body reacts before his brain does. “Maybe I should go, Joel. Maybe this could be g—”

He can’t hold back the tears. His body won’t let him. They pour down his cheeks, close his throat, his words stuttered out as he grabs for you, his knees giving out beneath him. You try to grab him before he hits the floor, but you’re too late, his body thudding to the floor, falling against you as he goes. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. “I won’t lose you,” he rasps out, and it takes him a moment to realize his face is pressed against your stomach, one hand finding your waist, the other curled in the back of your shirt. “Please, Liv. Don’t—I can’t. Please.”

You can feel his tears soaking the fabric of your shirt, hot on his cheeks. You’ve seen Joel cry before, but never like this. Never so heavily, the emotion so thick it’s literally brought him to his knees before you. He’s gripping you like a lifeline, his face buried in your stomach, and you rest one hand on his head, slide his hair between your knuckles. You want to curl yourself around him, protect him the way he’s always trying to protect you.

And on the other side of the kitchen, Tommy just stares at the pair of you. Every emotion known to man crosses his face; guilty, sadness, anger, all of the things that have become commonplace in this new world. You can’t blame him for any of them, you feel half of them yourself.

But then Tommy opens his mouth. “Liv, if you would just—”

“Please, Tommy,” you say, your tone heavy, tears sparking in the back of your throat. “Please don’t.”

He turns on his heel and heads for the door. When he yanks it open, your breath hitches when you see Tess standing on the other side of the door, obviously confused. Tommy says nothing, pushing past her and disappearing down the hallway. “What the fuck?”

At the sound of Tess’s voice, Joel all but leaps to his feet, peeling himself away from you and bee-lining for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. It suddenly smells like something’s burning, and you curse under your breath as the pot on the stove bubbles over.

Tess closes the door quietly, walks towards you, puts a careful hand on your arm, places a bottle of whiskey on the counter. “So much for family dinner.”

You scoff out a laugh as you flick off the stove, kicking your boot into the dented bottom drawer as you drop the pot of ruined pasta into the sink. Shoving a hand through your hair, you sigh, reaching for the bottle. “You’re telling me.”

“You gonna tell me what the fuck just happened,” Tess asks, leaning against the counter beside you, holding her hand out for the bottle as you take a big swig, “or do I have to guess?”

“I caught the tail-end of that conversation,” you say, guilt twisting your stomach as the lie rolls all too easily off your tongue, “but from what I gathered, Tommy’s joining the Fireflies.”

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(adding more text down here in hopes that tumblr doesn’t cut off my post again!)

🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓 🍓

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #joel miller x oc #joel miller x liv stone

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recurring-polynya · 1 year

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Writing/Art Update 4/18/2023

I said I was gonna do it and I did it: I finished chapter 4, which as predicted, ended up being chapters 4 and 5. (I really don't know how I thought it could be otherwise...even after the split, Chapter 4 ended up being the longest chapter in the whole thing, nearly twice as long as most of the other ones). Yesterday, I re-read Chapters 1-6. I had to kinda steel myself, because I was honestly terrified it was going to be Terrible, but it's Not Too Bad, Actually! I sent Chapters 2 and 3 off to the beta. I want to let 4 and 5 simmer a little longer before I do a little more minor editing on them, but it shouldn't be much. I definitely thought Ch 6 was going to Tonally Off, but it's actually ok, too.

It's really hard to emphasize the mess this thing was as recently as two weeks ago. I honestly cannot believe I have pulled it into the shape that it's in. I mean, I'm not gonna claim this is my magnum opus or anything, but it's sort of a very personal accomplishment. Part of that is because it's easy to write nice romance stories where they kiss at the end, or straightforward angst, but writing a prequel about a weird time in someone's life where they go through a really uncomfortable transition is not easy and it's sort of fundamentally unsatisfying. Of course it is, because it's a building block of a relationship that's going to take another 40 years before it starts looing up again. I don't particularly know if it's something people want to read, but it's what I wanted to write and I did.

Anyway, I am feeling very high on my horse today, but I do still have one chapter left to go. It's got three scenes. I have not looked at them lately, but two of them are Mostly Okay, but need endings. The third one really was Tonally Wrong and also I pillaged it for dialogue in another scene, so that will take some work, but overall, it's a lot less than I had to do last week and feels very doable.

After that, it'll still need some minor edits and polish (plus there's always the chance my beta is going to be like Polynya, this is gibberish, not that she ever has, but it'll happen one of these days) but maybe you'll get to see it soon! Believe it!!

I have been really off my art game and it's primarily because this fanfic has been eating my brain. I might do a little sketch requests thingie? For a treat? After I'm done, obvs. I am also going to work on that smut I started weeks ago. I didn't lose interest in it or anything, I just got really wrapped up in this one.

Anyway, because I love you and you have all been very, very patient with me, you can have a lil baby excerpt this week.

from Chapter 3

Rukia isn’t sure what she expected to see when she enters the dojo, but it certainly isn’t Renji sitting on the floor, poring over a large book. “Where’s Mr. Mochida?” she asks.

“Not up yet, probably. I don’t know,” Renji says, flipping a few pages.

Rukia narrows her eyes at him. “I thought you said it was time for training.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“But Mr. Mochida is in charge of training.”

“Well, yeah, but I found this book yesterday, you see, and I really want to try some of the stuff in it.”

“So when you said ‘training’, what you meant was ‘Renji bullshit.’”

“Sure, okay, but you wouldn’t get out of bed if I told you it was Renji bullshit.”

Rukia levels a death glare at him, but it is deflected by the protective layer of Renji bullshit hovering around him. She tries a different tack. “Renji, look at my yukata. Look at it, Renji. It’s got bunnies on it. Little itty bitty bunnies.”

Renji looks up, stares at her for exactly ten seconds, and then jabs a finger at his book. “Body weight exercises, Rukia! They require no equipment, so you can do them anywhere! This book has them all broken out by which muscle groups they make stronger!”

Rukia gives up, and hunkers down beside him. “Oh! It has pictures.” “They aren’t pictures, they’re diagrams,” Renji informs her pompously. “I want to do this one. It’s called push-ups. It will make our arms really strong!”

#writing update #art update

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campingwiththecharmings · 1 year

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I posted 17,876 times in 2022

That's 5,283 more posts than 2021!

528 posts created (3%)

17,348 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shewhohangsoutincemeteries

@my-secret-shame

@marveldaily

@tvandfilm

@disabledameron

I tagged 17,743 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#q - 15,927 posts

#oscar isaac - 1,488 posts

#moon knight - 1,369 posts

#star wars - 1,133 posts

#marvel - 869 posts

#steven grant - 806 posts

#marc spector - 624 posts

#daredevil - 476 posts

#moon knight spoilers - 450 posts

#matt murdock - 449 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#also just wanna say that i have written sequels to stories i never planned more than one chapter for just bc someone liked it enough to ask

My Top Posts in 2022:

128 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

Shut Up and Kiss Me

AN: another ficlet! this is a result of a couple of prompt lists i saw and was inspired by (there are like 4 other prompts i was inspired by also that are ~in progress~ so be on the look-out for those if you happen to enjoy this one 😉).

(Un-beta'd)

This is it, you think. This is the day you finally snap and murder him.

Rated: T Words: 892 Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Warnings: kissing, arguing, a little cursing...i think that's all. AO3

----

“Dameron, if you interrupt me one more time— Maker, help me.”

It’s the middle of the night. You’re exhausted and filthy and the last thing you want to do right now is argue with the posterboy of the Resistance yet again over how your kriffing ship should be maintained.

Unluckily for you, he doesn’t seem to care what you want.

“I’m just saying–”

“I don’t care! This is my ship. Go worry about your own!”

Your aggravated words echo through the mostly empty hangar as you turn away from him, signaling that you’re finished with the conversation. He doesn’t take the hint, however, and as soon as you reach for your tools, he’s running his mouth again.

The sound of his voice makes the blood rush in your ears and you have to close your eyes in an effort to calm yourself.

This is it, you think. This is the day you finally snap and murder him.

Clenching your jaw you exhale in frustration and swiftly turn to face him again. “Maker, will you just shut up?!”

He stops mid-sentence, mouth hanging slightly agape as he stares at you in shock and, for the briefest of moments, he is silent. But then the shock wears off and his irritatingly handsome face contorts in annoyance, a fire igniting in his eyes.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me!” he retorts, raising his eyebrows in challenge as his hands fall defiantly to his hips.

You tilt your head at his words, eyes narrowing slightly as you continue to glare at him.

‘Make me,’ he says. With pleasure.

You don’t remember moving, but suddenly you’re right in front of him, invading his space the way he always seems to invade yours. It throws him off, you can tell by the look in his eyes as they study you.

You realize too late that getting so close to him was a huge mistake. This close, you can smell him, can feel the warmth of his body, can see how soft his gorgeous curls look, can see the many shades of brown in his annoyingly beautiful eyes—

Oh. Oh, shit.

Your eyes widen a little, flicking briefly to his lips before you can stop yourself and he notices. Something in his gaze shifts and you swallow thickly in anticipation.

“Do you wanna kiss me or kill me? I honestly can’t tell.”

His voice is low, rough, and just a little bit teasing. You flush slightly in annoyance and cross your arms over your chest defensively.

“Right now? Definitely the second one.”

He bites his bottom lip in an effort to hold back a smile and you mentally curse yourself when it causes your heart to stutter a little.

“And before?” he asks innocently, moving somehow even closer to you.

“Before what?” you ask, holding his gaze and fighting the urge to step back and create space between you.

He allows himself to smile a little this time and the action momentarily draws your attention back to his mouth. When your gaze returns to his, there is a teasing glint in his eyes.

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147 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

Love is a Game (For Fools to Play)

AN: So, hi. This is the first fic I’ve written in six years (OMG), and my first starring the lovely Poe Dameron, so please be gentle. I’m so sorry this is so long, btw, I meant for it to be a drabble and, well, obviously got a little carried away lmao.

Also, while I wrote this with a female reader in mind, I’m pretty sure it reads as gender neutral (please correct me if that’s wrong, I’ve read this so many times at this point I might be blind to it lol).

(Un-beta'd)

The Resistance has finally found a safe place to lay low and is celebrating their much-needed downtime with silly party games (and alcohol, obviously).

Rated: T Words: 4,600+ (idek y'all) Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: alcohol use, mild cursing, kissing, mutual pining, friends to lovers. AO3

—

You throw back a shot of Jet Juice and grimace as it burns down your throat.

“Shit, this stuff is terrible. Don’t we have anything palatable?”

Poe sits beside you on the floor of the common room, his own shot of Jet Juice between his fingers. “We’re on a secret base in the middle of nowhere. What were you expecting? A Takodana Quencher?”

You laugh, grabbing another shot. “No, but I’d kill for a Starfire 'skee right about now. Maker, I’d even settle for a Tsiraki, at least it tastes good.”

“Eh, I’m more of a Starshine Surprise kind of guy,” he jokes, taking another shot.

You hum in agreement, only kind of processing what he’s saying as you too take another drink. You feel pleasantly buzzed and you find yourself wishing you felt this good all of the time. “That stuff’ll kill you, you know.”

His entire left side is already pretty much flush with your right, so when he chuckles and tries to bump your shoulder with his, he almost falls over into your lap.

“Maker, Dameron, why are you always throwing yourself at me?” You snort, slapping a hand over your face when it’s louder than you anticipated; apparently you’re more sloshed than you’d originally thought.

He rights himself and tries bumping your shoulder again, but only succeeds in pressing himself further into your side. “You’re irresistible, I just can’t help it.”

You huff a laugh and turn to answer him, realizing too late how close his face is to yours. His nose bumps your cheek and his breath fans against your lips as you lock eyes with him. His face is flushed and his eyes are a little hazy and your breath catches in your throat when his gaze dips briefly to your mouth.

You should lean back, give the both of you some space, but you can’t. He’s warm and solid and he just smells so damn good. He licks his lips absently, eyes roaming over your face.

“You know,” he whispers, raising a playful eyebrow, “if you want to kiss me, baby, all you have to do is ask.”

A strangled laugh escapes you as the tension breaks and he smiles and leans away, searching for another drink. He wrinkles his nose when he can’t find one and looks over at you. “We need more shots.”

Just then, someone across the room yells something about playing a game and mostly everyone cheers. Poe looks at you, raising his brows in askance. You shrug and begin the process of standing to your feet (which you don’t remember being so difficult…). Poe is up before you and helps you up the rest of the way, his hand grasping your upper arm.

“You good?” he asks, watching you wobble a little as he lets you go.

You nod and pat his shoulder. “Thanks for the assist, Black Leader.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Come on, let’s go see what the game is.”

When you make it to the crowd of people playing…whatever it is they’re playing, a game is already apparently in full swing. You can’t really see what’s happening, but everyone’s cheering and laughing. You try to ask the person closest to you what’s going on, but it’s so loud, they don’t hear you. You look at Poe, Poe looks at you and you both shrug and turn back to the crowd to wait for an opening.

After a moment, there is one and you grab Poe by the arm and push your way through, dragging him behind you. When you emerge, you finally see what everyone’s so worked up about.

Spin-the-Bottle. They’re playing Spin-the-kriffing-Bottle.

You sigh in disappointment. You’ve never been into this game, even when you’re plastered. The thought of kissing some random person that you don’t even get to pick sounds like the furthest thing from fun to you. But Poe is laughing and cheering beside you (and has somehow found another drink) and you know you won’t be able to get him to leave, at least not right now, so you resign yourself and try to enjoy the antics of your comrades.

It becomes clear pretty quickly that they’re not playing a normal game of Spin-the-Bottle. According to the girl beside you (apparently named Mor), it’s some weird mash-up with another game she can’t recall the name of, but the gist is that a person spins the bottle and goes into a closet with whomever it lands on.

“What do you do once you’re in the closet?” you ask, sure that this must only be fun if you’re totally trashed.

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156 notes - Posted July 11, 2022

203 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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262 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#aw :')#oh snap this reminds me i need to see if playstation is doing their thing again this year lol #sorry for the long post lol

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

705 notes · View notes

theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked.

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for language and blood + references to violence Warning: Lil bit of kisses with dubious consent (initial surprise, then “hmm this is nice, I guess”), as well as a tiny bit of blood. Oh, and, ya know, mild referenced cannibalism. Notes: Still no beta reader, we die like innocent chickens unfortunate enough to be in Ethan Winters’ way. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t too ramble-y, I kinda. Got excited. Maybe sorta stayed up late to write this instead of sleeping, so... PS sorry for the cliffhanger, I could not resist. Next chapter will include the reader earning their PHD in Bullshittery, while also moving us into the, like, actual central plot of Serenade (or at least the part that the romance revolves around). Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne

Chapter 2: Overture

By the time you made it back to the maidens' quarters, it was nearly half an hour after your "shift" officially ended. Daniela hadn't taken up that much of your time, but her words had instilled a vigorous sense of anxiety in you, which had only drawn out your remaining tasks. You also weren't terribly looking forward to being interrogated by your coworkers. What would you even say? "Oh yeah, I accidentally played a note on the forbidden piano but instead of killing me, Lady Daniela just flirted with me and let me go! Haha smiley face emoji!"

Yeah, that would definitely go over great with the others. Maybe you could get away with pretending you hadn't been the one to play? Even though, you know, your daily duties were posted on the same wall as everyone else's, and anyone could see that you were the only person working in the music room today. Damnit, you think, everyone is always a bit tense when someone "gets off easy". Not that it happened terribly often. It simply made people nervous, considering they never knew if the Ladies of the house had been denied the "stress relief" they so desired, and whether or not they would want to take it out on someone else.

Hoping things would sail a little smoother this time, you took a deep breath and pushed the door to your quarters open. As soon as you stepped in you felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way. There had been muffled talking as you approached, but now it was silent, a heavy curtain of discomfort hanging over the room. Well, fuck, you thought, struggling to think of how to react. In the end you settled with a slightly-too-enthusiastic wave and a shy smile.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” One of the maidens asks, almost instantly, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If you remembered correctly, her name was Cynthia, and she was one of the (currently) longest running survivors. The two of you hadn’t spoken before, which made her next move all the more confusing. Without much of a warning she moved in front of you, reaching out to grab your hands, before gently holding them in front of her chest. When she speaks, it’s with a hushed voice. “How are you not dead right now?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” you replied, doing what you could to avoid her gaze, but ending up meeting eyes with the others in the room.

“When you didn’t get back with everyone else… we assumed the worst,” Daphne, the closest thing you had to a best friend, said. She was towards the front of the small crowd of maidens, all of whom were now gathering around you out of curiosity. “You’re probably just lucky that Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t home while you played, otherwise, well, I think we can all guess what would have happened.”

“Thank the Mother for that, literally,” Cynthia chimed, dropping your hands as she did. That caught your interest for sure. Despite being part of an eccentric “extended family”, it wasn’t that often that Lady Dimitrescu actually left the castle to visit the other Lords; or their leader, for that matter. Was something big coming? Or was it simply time for a regular check up? You didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as soon Cynthia was speaking again. “Now, please, regale us with your story, dear. It must certainly be interesting… seeing as you escaped unscathed.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, putting your hands up in a “slow down” motion. Sighing, you moved over to your bed, sitting on the edge, before starting to tell the others what happened. You left out a few details, such as the severity of Daniela’s flirting, as well as the way she touched you. By the time you reached the end of your story, the other maidens had settled in a semi circle around you. A few had started to get ready for the day shift while you spoke, but their movements were deliberately slow, and their gasps let you know they were definitely listening. It was, however, difficult to tell how anyone really felt about what you were saying. Were they looking worried because they were concerned for your safety, or for their own?

Hard to say. All you knew at the end of night was that no one was looking forward to the following night.

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Every shadow in the corner of your eyes makes your heart skip a beat. All day (night, technically) you’ve been overly paranoid, expecting Daniela or one of her sisters to pop out at any moment, their sickles raised, blood-stained lips pulled up into a grin, promises of violence dripping from their mouths. So far your anxiety had proven irrational. Experience, on the other hand, was reverse-reassuring you with memories of maidens you had hardly had time to get to know. Who were you to avoid such a fate? Could playing a little song really justify your existence to these people? These mutants?

Distracting thoughts like that swirled around your mind for hours, leaving you feeling faint and dizzy, as you desperately tried to focus on your work. Ironically, it was your tunnel vision on your worries that brought them to life.

“Humph, you should really pay more attention, sweet thing,” a voice whispers, right besides your ear. Immediately you jump, a little yelp escaping you, and whirl around to see who had crept up on you. Your wide open eyes soon settled on the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. A toothy grin lit up her face as she took you in, leaning in just close enough for you to feel her breath. “Missed me?” She asks, words melting into a fit of giggles. One moment she’s face to face with you, the next she’s evaporating into a swarm of insects, moving around the room with frightening speed before settling on a nearby table. Both her legs dangle off the edge, swinging a little in a childlike manner.

“Lady Daniela, I-” you stutter, hardly able to will yourself to speak. You can’t help but glance at the table with a feeling of anxiety, knowing that you had just finished cleaning it, and wonder if your work would be for naught. But it seems that Daniela doesn’t appreciate you focusing on something other than her. Again she buzzes into a cloud, this time coming closer to you, the insects circling you, occasionally tugging at your skin. Fight or flight tries to kick in, yet all you manage to do is freeze in place.

You don’t open your eyes until the sound of hundreds of wings beating dies down. Fresh drops of blood trickle down your brow, as well a few from smaller cuts on your arms. Panic still roots you in place, even as you stare up at Daniela with a frightened expression. At first all she does is laugh. Loudly, with no softness to it at all. This was exactly the sort of thing that you had been afraid of in the first place.

“Oh, you poor little thing… Did that hurt?” Daniela asks, trailing a hand up your arm, pausing just before her fingers touch blood. Then she leans in, once more putting her lips right next to your ear, slowly pulling off one of her gloves as she does. “Good. Maybe you’ll pay more attention to me now. You really should, being in love with me and all.” She says it so casually, and with such conviction, that you almost wonder if she knew something that you didn’t. Though you try to turn to look at you, you find her gloved hand holding your head in place. The other moves so slowly that you almost don’t notice it until her thumb is sliding across your forehead. Blood smears as she does this, but she doesn’t bother trying to be neat about it.

Instead she simply brings the finger back towards herself, her other hand turning your face as she does, so that you could make eye contact as she licks her thumb clean. As soon as the blood hits her tongue her eyelids flutter and a soft moan rises in her throat. Astoundedly the sound brought a strong blush to your cheeks. It was less about attraction per se, more about the inherently intimate nature of the moment. Daniela was so close, her hand resting on the back of your head, her eyes slowly returning their focus to you. When she sees you she can’t help but don a prideful grin.

“You taste even better than I expected, sweet thing- what a fitting nickname, mhmm?” Another giggle, another rush of blood to your cheeks. In the rush of the moment you found your fear fading out, slowly, gradually being replaced by a mix of confusion and… warmth? What is wrong with me, you think, mind racing with countless half-thoughts.

Suddenly, as quick as the strongest of impulses, you found yourself being pulled closer to Daniela, her bare hand moving to rest on your waist. For once her eyes left your own. Now they drifted lower, to your lips, giving you a single moment to realize her intentions before she acts on them. Your lips collide with hers before you can even think to protest. It’s a million times softer than you would have ever imagined- not that you had imagined. But now that you had felt this… damnit, you know you shouldn’t enjoy it, yet you found yourself kissing back nonetheless. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? Not like you’d have a chance to kiss anyone else around the castle, either.

Within a couple moments you realize two things: One, Daniela was smiling into the kiss. Two, by Jove (by Miranda?) was she seemingly inexperienced. Based on how much flirting she had done, you had naturally assumed that she was in no way, shape, or form new to this. The kiss was a bit sloppy, although passionate, and Daniela seemed quick to mimic your movements. More than that, it seemed like she was unable to catch her breath (did she even need to breathe? Or were the movements more out of habit than anything else?). By the time she pulls away she needs to gasp, and you’re left absolutely reeling, unsure how to process any of this. On the other hand, Daniela was softly grinning, gently resting her forehead against your own.

“Delectable, darling,” she murmurs. There’s a softness to her voice that you simply cannot fathom is real, at least not entirely so. Then a pause, with her gently running her fingers through your hair, before she gives you one more little peck on the lips. When she pulls away, just far enough to really look at you, you see something in her eyes that fills you with dread: Hunger. “I think I know what you want, what you need. You want to be with me, forever, a part of me, don’t you? They always do, in the end…” Her eyes shift to your neck, and suddenly her grip on you is dangerously tight.

Instantly you shift into panic mode, trying to squirm out of her grasp to no avail. This seems to irritate Daniela, who digs her nails into your waist, making you gasp. Without hesitation she seizes the opportunity to push you against the nearest wall, the hand that had caressed you so gently now pinning you down. Your thoughts are racing, desperately searching for anything that might buy you some time to get away, or even dissuade her entirely. But seconds tick by with nothing coming to light, your hope quickly fading. Gulping, you squeeze your eyes shut, ready to accept your fate.

And then… it hits you. An idea, maybe, that might just be stupid enough to work. Here goes nothing…

“Wait! Don’t you want me to show you my love?” You ask, somehow managing to mask the pure terror you were feeling. Hell, you slipped in a bit of confidence, sounding far, far more sure of yourself than you really were. Apparently it was enough to give Daniela pause. Her teeth had been mere inches from your neck, but now she was watching you closely, head tilted at a slight angle. “I can hardly do that if you kill me so soon, love. Don’t you want to see everything I have to offer? To know me truly, fully, before we become as one?” Another pause, a little hum from Daniela, then a slow, spine-chilling smile.

“Go on, then… show me.”

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #yes every chapter will be named after a musical term #what can I say I gotta put those 8+ years of piano lessons to use #not like I've released two albums or anything #that was sarcasm #anyway please enjoy

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atiny-ahgase · 3 years

Text

The Promise And A Stray Pup

Title: The Promise And A Stray Pup

Chapter 2: Promise You’ll Be Good

Author’s Note: Okay so I usually write the author’s notes before I even write the story idk why… I just do. Anyway, I had no idea how this is gonna turn out soo..yeah.

Summary: Y/n returns home in search of a hybrid friend that she had left oh so long ago. Will she be able to help him? Did their friendship withstand the hands of time or did it crumble from the pressure?

This is chapter 2 of the Series “A Pinky Promise And A Stray Pup, you can read chapter 1 here.

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Pairing: Hybrid Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Hybrid au, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Smut, Dom Reader, Sub Yunho, Edging, Controlled Orgasm, Masturbation

Contains: Hybrid Yunho, Gender Neutral Reader, Fluff, Smut

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You paced through the narrow hallway of your one-bedroom apartment for what seemed like the millionth time. Releasing a loud groan you dove unto the soft cushions of your couch, burying your face in one of your many throw pillows. It had been exactly 2 days,14 hours, and 27 minutes since you had last seen Yunho...not that you were counting or anything. He seemed kinda off during your last interaction, his breathing seemed strained and his cheeks were a bright shade of pink, granted his face seemed to be tinted that light shade of pink quite often. His voice wasn’t the smooth sweet melody that you had already become so used to, it seemed deeper, almost huskier. Sure, he had just woken up but still, something felt off to you. Maybe you were overthinking it, over-analyzing the situation as you usually did but how could you not? He hadn’t contacted you for two whole days. Sure, he could be busy with work but when you visited his workplace they said that he hadn’t been in on that day. Then where was he? What could he possibly be doing?

What if he was sick? What if he had realized that you weren’t the same kindergartener that he had met so many years ago? What if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? What would you do then? Everything that you had done since the moment you and Yunho had parted ways was all done to meet him again. You studied extra hard to get a scholarship, you worked extra shifts to pay off apartment expenses, you settled on choosing this apartment because it was closer to your old school. Everything that you had done was all for him but...what if he didn’t want that? What if he was having second thoughts? Where would that leave you? What would you do when your entire reason for bettering yourself decided that you weren’t enough?

He said that he’d come to visit you again but it's been two days and still nothing, you were starting to worry. Sure you hadn’t seen him for twelve years prior but now even a day without him feels unbearable. You’d wondered how you had survived so long without having him by your side. Even your tiny apartment felt as though it had tripled in size since his absence, the walls seemed to have expanded overnight, feeling far too large for just you. Yunho seemed to fit so perfectly in your life so the fact that he wasn’t there next to you felt like such a foreign feeling even though he had only recently reentered it.

Your worrying carried on for the remainder of the week and before you knew it classes had begun. The first couple of days were pretty basic; mostly consisting of introductions and lesson plans. You had even somehow managed to befriend the bespeckled hybrid boy who sat next to you in your Math class. His hair was dyed a soft orange which highlighted the warmth of his smile, he wore an oversized hoodie and round-rimmed glasses. Even seated he towered over you, and to be quite honest you were originally incredibly intimidated by his large stature but that lasted a solid two minutes. His dog-like playfulness immediately shining through, casting away all of your prior fears. You had both managed to get pretty close before your class had started, him laughing at all of your jokes, his tail happily wagging behind you as he clutched his stomach, tears springing from his eyes.

He introduced himself as Mingi, a dog hybrid who only moved in a few months ago, apparently he wanted a fresh place to make a new start and opted for somewhere quiet. Surprisingly you both shared a lot of the same courses which was great for you because now you had a seat buddy. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly and it was finally time for lunch, you and Mingi sat on the wooden benches across from the school library, taking in the way the yellow leaves danced in the wind as the breeze sang a gentle song. Your shoulders brushed each others’ as you listened to his stories about his hometown, your attention hanging on to every single word that he spoke. His way of telling stories captivated you, it was as though you were watching a movie, every scene that he set was so vivid, it was as though you were living through each moment. Before long your school day had ended and it was finally time to go home. Walking out from your final lecture for the day you looked up at the sky “, Looks like it’s about to rain,” you hypothesized.

“Please don’t jinx it, the UNI’s Shuttle doesn’t drop me off at the front of my house and I really don’t wanna walk through the rain,” he explained with an exasperated sigh. Soon after his words were uttered a thunderous roar was heard from the sky and raindrops began falling unto the earth below. You could hear the displeased groans from your friend beside you which caused you to let out a small laugh. “Alright Mingi tell me where you live and I’ll think about giving you a ride”, you jokingly said while pulling him in the direction of your car. “You’re the best Y/n,” he said before engulfing you into a hug from behind. “Mingi you’re gonna crush me then I’lldie before I drive you home,” you exclaimed while trying to control your laughter. Were all dog hybrids this affectionate?

Mingi lived fairly close to the supermarket where Yunho worked which was great for you since you found yet another excuse to ‘drop in’ after you had dropped Mingi off. Unfortunately, Yunho wasn’t there yet again and quite honestly it was starting to get on your nerves. You released a loud sigh before heading to your car and driving home. It was only upon arriving home did you notice Mingi’s jacket seated comfortably on your back seat. You playfully rolled your eyes before retrieving it and bringing it into your apartment. Pulling out your phone you sent him a quick text informing him that you were holding his jacket for ransom and if he doesn’t buy you breakfast tomorrow then he’ll never see it again. You know just a basic text. After that was done you decided that your couch was as good a place as any for Mingi’s jacket to rest for the night.

Not long after getting comfortable, you heard someone knocking at your door. “Who could that be?” you thought. You didn’t know that many people from around here and even if you did they didn’t know where you lived. Getting up from your couch you walked over to the door pulling it open to reveal who was on the other side.

“And here I thought that you forgot where I lived,” you remarked as you looked up at the dog hybrid towering above you. Of course, it was Yunho, the only other person in town that knew where you lived was your landlady, and something was telling you that she had little to no reason to come knocking on your door at this hour. “I’m really sorry Y/n,” you heard him say softly, if it had been any quieter you would not have heard him at all. Looking at his face it seemed a lot paler than you remembered and he wore a tired expression as though he hadn’t slept for days.

“I wanted to come to see you sooner but I was really sick and I wanted to call but I didn’t have your number,” he began to explain in a voice that was even gentler than what you were used to. Even the yellow of his eyes seemed to dull significantly, how could you stay mad at someone in that state. To be honest, he could have shown up at your doorstep in peak condition and no excuse, and you’d probably still forgive him. For the longest time whether you were together or apart you had the softest spot for Yunho, even with the greatest determination once you looked into those golden eyes your heart would surely falter.

“You should probably come in, it’s getting pretty chilly these days,” you smiled up at him before further opening the door allowing him inside. Closing the door you sat on the couch and patted the spot beside you expectantly. Yunho taking that as his cue quickly filled in the empty space next to you engulfing your body in his warmth. You had quickly become used to having him next to you so much that his absence for those few days had you feeling incredibly cold. “I really am sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he explained as he placed his head on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck.

Placing your hand at the nape of his neck you were about to comfort him about the situation; since he seemed to be beating himself up quite a bit. However, before you could otter a word you could feel his grip on you tightening slightly.

“Y/n” you heard him say no louder than a whisper, his voice deeper than you were used to, “Whose jacket is this?” Referring to the green jacket which was placed on the couch.

“Oh, that’s Mingi’s he forgot it in my car-,” you began but before you could finish you felt a sharp pain at your collar bone followed by the soothing sensation of his warm tongue gliding over your bruised skin. You could feel it caressing your skin so tenderly that goosebumps began to form all over your body. “Yunho,” you whimpered in his arms while struggling to escape his grasp.

“I don’t like it. Why are you spending time with other hybrids when you already have me?” he calmly stated, punctuating each word with gentle kisses running along your throat. “I’ve only just found you, I’m not letting another hybrid take you away from me. You’re mine and I’m yours” he continued on while tightening his grip on you even more. His body pressed firmly to yours as he continued to nip on the tender skin of your neck.

The area began to burn with the most pleasant of pains, your body aching in the best way imaginable. But you knew that you couldn’t stay like that otherwise he would just continue to misunderstand you. “Yunho could you just listen-,” you tried to reason with him as best as you could even though you could hear your voice falter as his lips reached your collarbone. This was the second time he had done this and as pleasurable as it is also beginning to get tiring.

You kept on telling yourself that this was bad no matter how good he made you feel. You couldn’t deny that you could easily become addicted to the sensation of his body on yours; completely trapping you in its warmth. But you couldn’t just let him do as he pleased. It’s true that hybrids have a more difficult time controlling their emotions but this is not an excuse. He couldn’t just continue to act on impulse every time his emotions get too strong. It gets easier with time and a hybrid of Yunho’s age should already be adequately good at it.

But I guess that’s the difference between Yunho and other hybrids his age, they were probably trained better than Yunho. He lived his younger years on the street so there is a possibility that he still hasn’t perfected self-control. He was like a puppy in an adult dog’s body; succumbing to every urge that comes his way. Gathering your thoughts you took a deep breath before speaking. “Yunho sit,” you said in a stern voice, much more than you ever thought you could muster up. You felt his body become rigid against yours but he made no actions to remove himself from you. “Yunho sit!” you said with a little more force; your eyes piercing into his. You heard him whimper before he peeled himself away from you to have a seat. You had expected him to return to his previous spot beside you but he didn’t. Yunho opted to sit on his heels at the base of the couch; right where your feet had lain. His head hung low as his palms gently rested on his knees.

Seeing the sight before you left you struggling to remain seated, he looked so ductile, so obedient and something about it made you feel so hot. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes and you loved it, although you had been the one to stop his previous advances it was almost as though you were at the mercies of your instinct, you wanted nothing more than to completely devour him. You took a deep breath in the futile attempt to gather your thoughts before speaking to him, he’d probably let you.

“Yunho I let your behavior slide twice before, but at this point, I’m beginning to think that you want to be scolded by me,” you stated while coking your eyebrow up. “No I don’t I’m sorry,” you heard him mumble towards the floor. Placing your hand on his cheek you felt the way his body shivered at your touch. “Puppy shouldn’t you look at me when I’m talking to you,” you whispered your face only a few inches from his. You could clearly see his lips quivering as you took in the strained features of his face.

“You’re right I’m sorry,” he whimpered, his fists clenched against his jeans. “And exactly what is my puppy sorry for?” you inquired, your lip twisted up in a slight smirk. It amused you; someone so much smaller than him, could have so much power over him, just the thought had you shivering in your seat.

“I’m sorry for attacking you and for not coming to see you,” he stated, his pleading eyes drowning in your own. “And what was the reason that my dear puppy couldn’t come see his owner?” you continued on loving the pure look of ecstasy on his face when you referred to yourself as his owner. His knuckles tightened as his body began to tremble, clearly holding itself back from the pleasure that was clearly bubbling inside of him. “I was sick,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Oh were you now?” you edged on, your pointer finger gliding across his adam’s apple. “Please,” he whimpered before he began to hunch forward in an attempt to ease the pressure building up at his crotch. “You say that you’re sorry but apparently that doesn’t apply to all of you,” you confessed before gently placing your foot on his crutch. The sound that he released was probably the most beautiful you’ve ever heard; it almost made you want to end your teasing, almost.

Removing your foot from his crutch you stare in awe at the thin thread of clear liquid which connected your toes to the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “For someone who is soo sorry you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit,” you stated as you wiggled your toes, almost playing in the precum coating them. From your seat above him, you could see him frantically shaking his head as he rocked in place on the floor beneath you. “Oh, so you’re not,” you inquired as you brought your face on the same level before you continued, “then maybe you should start answering me honestly? There is no need to be this stubborn with me”.

“I was in heat,” he replied; his head hung low as his ears began to redden. “So my puppy left me worried and alone cause you couldn’t keep it in his pants? Seeing the state that you’re in I can’t say that I’m surprised,” you replied, your eyes never once leaving his quivering body. Leaning back into your seat you took one final glance at him before speaking, “Take it off.” You could hear him release a sigh before reaching for his shirt. “No,” you interrupted him mid-action, “just your bottoms.” With crosswinds coming in so quickly Yunho was dressed in a caramel-colored knitted turtleneck and a pair of black jeans. You didn’t think that turtle necks could turn you on to this extent, just the thought of Yunho wearing turtle necks to hide the marks that you’ve left on his neck got a fire burning deep into your core.

You were so lost in your thoughts that the only thing pulling you away was the load, animalistic groan which escaped the hybrid’s lips as he slowly touched himself. His nimble fingers teasing the tip of his erect cock, urging it to release even more precum than it already was. The clear liquid flowed from the tip of his reddened cock down his hand, coating it in the perverse liquid. “I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself now did I puppy,” you stated watching as he briskly removed his hand from his aching cock; wincing as the cold breeze caressed it. “Do you want me to touch you?” you inquired.

“I do,” he began; his breathing short and strained, “but I’ve been bad.”

“That’s true but that doesn’t mean that my puppy doesn’t deserve to be cared for now does it?” you rhetorically asked.

Finally leaving your place on the couch you crept beside him, grasping his dick in your much smaller hand, your mouth watering at the sight. Almost immediately you could feel Yunho bucking his hips upward, chasing his much-desired release with great intensity. Taking your free hand you gripped his hip harshly, your nails grazing along his side. Yunho moaned at the pain, his body shivering as his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. “Stay still for me okay baby,” you whispered, your breath tickling his ear. Continuing at a rather snow pace you ran your hand along Yunho’s engorged dick, tracing its veins with your fingers and watching as his entire body twitched in response. You could feel him leaving tentative kisses along your shoulder but you didn’t stop him this time, he was finally being good so he deserved a little treat. Right?

You tightened your grip as you continued to pleasure him, enjoying the sweet sounds of his moans in your ear; you could listen to it all day but that might actually break him and you couldn’t do that to your puppy. “Close, I’m close. Please can I come,” he begged into your shoulder as his hands caressed your sides ever so slightly; the searing heat radiating from his entire body paled in comparison the that of his pulsating dick. He looked as though he was ready to burst but resisting until you gave him the go-ahead trying with the utmost desperation to be good for you. Should you allow him to release or should you let that pressure build up inside of him just a little longer to see how long he could fight against his instinct?

Your thought process was interrupted by your phone ringing on the couch cushion behind you, you weren’t all that interested to answer but you had an idea of who it might be so you decided to play with your puppy just a little longer. “Yunho could you grab my phone for me please,” you asked, your free hand caressing his back to get his attention. Looking at his face caused shivers to run through your spine; it was nothing like you’ve ever felt before, your body was screaming with pure ecstasy. His face was flushed pink and glistening with perspiration, his teary, yellow eyes were almost engulfed by his dilated pupils and only heavy breathing could be heard from his swollen lips. Yunho was always irresistible in your eyes but seeing him in this state; he looked absolutely delectable.

You had expected him to put up some sort of resistance but he didn’t, he simply stretched forward; groaning at the new angle in which you were holding his dick, and grabbed your phone. “Who’s calling?” you inquired, already having a decent idea of who it is. From the growl that escaped Yunho’s lips, you already knew that you were right but you still wanted to hear him say it. You didn’t say a word to him you simply stopped the movement of your hand and looked at him, your eyes boring into his in an attempt to deduce his next move. Was he really that against you talking to Mingi? Or was it just because of the timing of the call? “Mingi,” he whispered before handing me the phone. Taking it from his hand you could see Yunho attempt to fix his clothes. “Stay,” you simply said to him before answering the still ringing phone.

To be quite honest you weren’t really paying any mind to what Mingi was saying; your senses focused on the whimpering hybrid beside you. You had already begun caressing his dick once more while still being on the phone with Mingi, you didn’t mind too much if Mingi found out what you were doing but Yunho on the other hand tried his absolute best to keep his noises at bay. This continued on for a few more minutes as you tried your best to keep Mingi on the phone, testing how long Yunho could hold out. Quickening your pace on his ever-flowing dick you could see Yunho convolve as he clung unto you, his teeth threatening to tear through his lush lips. He was almost at his breaking point.

“Mingi could you just hold on please my friend is calling the apartment phone,” you lied, “oh no you don’t need to hang up it will only take a minute.” Placing your phone against your shoulder; but not really attempting to muffle any sound, you turned to Yunho, “Are you coming today or not?” you enquired in the best nonchalant voice you could muster up. To Mingi it would just seem as though you had a friend over but Yunho knew better, his needy pants and muffled whimpers understood all too well. Looking up at you he nodded his head frantically before burying his face into your shoulder once more in a desperate attempt to muffle his sounds. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, if he was asked to his entire body would have surely combusted right there and then.

“Okay then hurry up,” you replied before returning to your phone call. “Yeah I’m gonna watch a movie with a friend in a bit, you should come next-,” you continued your conversation until you felt a sharp pain on your neck causing you to yelp, followed by a splash of liquid landing on your hand. “Are you okay?” you heard Mingi ask. “Yeah I’m fine I just bumped my toe,” you explained with a slight laugh trying your best to calm your breathing. “Well that’s good then,” he continued, “but please be careful else you’ll make me worry.”

“You don’t need to though, I already have someone like that and he’ll be here soon so I should go,” you stated before saying your goodbyes. You could sense a slight opposition from Mingi on the phone but that didn’t bother you much cause you had someone else to worry about. You look one last look at the quivering hybrid who had collapsed on your living room floor before you stood up.

Rushing to the restroom you began filling the bathtub before retrieving a damp cloth and heading back to the exhausted hybrid in your living room. After cleaning up most of the mess you told Yunho that he needed to take a bath which resulted in him releasing a groan before attempting to get up. Standing beside him you watched as his legs shook releasing a small giggle at the sight. “Shut up,” he said with a slight pout on his lips. “I really did a number on you didn’t I,” you continued.

“Please stop talking,” he groaned as he slowly made his way to your restroom. “Are you going to make me?” you pushed on loving the personality gap that he was displaying. You loved how he went from a whimpering mess to the playful yet slightly defiant Yunho that he currently is. You felt his grip on your arm, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were connected. “Do you want me to?” he inquired, his golden eyes searching yours. “Huh?” was the only thing that could leave your mouth, unbelievable, even after all that you’ve just done to him he can still reduce you to a deer in the headlights that simplicity? “I’m yours,” he whispered just softly enough for you both to hear; like it was a precious secret only to be shared between you too, “I’d do anything you want me to. Whatever you want from me I’ll give it to you.”

#ateez #ateez au #ateez hybrid au #hybrid au #ateez fanfic #ateez hybrid fanfic #ateez hybrid #ateez smut #ateez fluff #yunho hybrid #yunho fanfic #jeong yunho #jeong yunho fanfic #gender neutral reader #I honestly dont know what else lol I havent done this in a while

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Dark Secrets: Secrets Exposed

A/N: Here’s chapter two of vampire!Sonny, and boy oh boy is it a doozy. I have another one planned, but it won’t be for the bingo. Also, the reason this is jumping around so much is because it’s an arc; Karen and I can come back at any time and fill in gaps with short chapters/drabbles.

Anyways, this covers the Monster square in @adarafaelbarba moodboard bingo!

Tags: smut, rough p in v sex, blood (is it blood play if he drinks it?), biting kink, marking/bruising skin, squirting

Words: 3105

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Three months. They were the longest three months of your life. Sonny never contacted you, and you worried about him every day. Was he compromised? Hurt? Dead? You had no way of knowing, and it kept you up at night. He had to be okay, right? You’d feel if he was hurt, you knew it in your heart.

You were also upset with yourself; the last conversation you had with him was…hard. Why didn’t you just wait a day, tell him how much you loved him instead? And now, what if it was too late to tell him?

There was a knock at your door, and you braced yourself for the worst. But when you opened it to find Sonny standing there, a sheepish smile on his face, you felt such relief that you cried out before launching against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much! I’m so happy you’re okay,” you exclaimed, pulling him to you in a deep kiss.

He kissed you back just as fiercely, walking you backwards into your place. “I’ve missed you,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again.

You wrapped a leg around his waist, scratching at his back, and he groaned. You needed him, now more than ever. You wanted him so desperately. But still, he hesitated.

“W—wait a moment, doll,” he said, panting. You gently released him, looking up into his face. His eyes were blown with lust, a mirror to your own. “We need to talk.”

You gave him a sultry smile, leaning against him. “It can wait,” you replied before kissing his neck.

Sonny groaned again, melting under your mouth as you continued to kiss and suck his neck. “N—no; stop, please.” You stopped your assault, leaning back to look at him. “It can’t wait, I’m sorry, doll.”

You moved to sit on your couch, and Sonny stood in front of you, determined to stay slightly away from you. “What is it, Sonny?”

“First of all, what I’m about to tell you is illegal; we’ll have to fill out all the paperwork later. Second, I’m going to talk, and I want you to listen; it’s a lot of information to get through,” he said.

You weren’t sure what to make of his demeanor “Is everything okay? You’re scaring me, babe.”

“It will be, just…just listen.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I lied about the UC; I wasn’t undercover the past three months.”

“What?!” you yelled in confusion; why did he lie? What was he hiding?”

“Please, let me explain; I spent the past three months in a cabin upstate, alone. I…I wanted to sit and really think about our relationship, about what I feel for you. And I—I love you. I love you so much more than I could ever say. You’re the one I want to spend eternity with. I’ve—I’ve never felt like this with anyone before; sure, I’ve had past lovers over the years, but nothing compared to you. I love you, everything about you, your spirit, your intellect, all of it,” he concluded.

You blinked at him. Was he…proposing? After lying about where he was? “Why lie, Sonny? I would’ve understood if you needed some time.”

“Because I—I wanted to make sure I was alone; I’m not done.” He took yet another deep breath, his piercing blue eyes locking to yours. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you this, without the fear of a…scene.” You rose an eyebrow, and he softly said, “I’m not human, doll. I’m a vampire.”

You blinked at him. “A vampire? Like Dracula or—”

“Oh, Dracula is a bunch of crap; a fictional story written by a human. I’m a real vampire; I have fangs, drink blood to survive, live forever unless I’m killed—”

“I don’t see how this is different than Dracula yet,” you replied, stifling a chuckle.

Sonny’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “I’m being serious, here! It’s also highly illegal for me to tell you all of this, since you’re a human.”

“Uh huh. A vampire, you say…” you trailed off, thinking. It did make a lot of sense, with how he didn’t eat or drink often, and why he tended to stay out of the sun. But he still went out and about in daylight, and besides, monsters weren’t real.

He rolled his eyes, then opened his mouth. Your eyes widened as his incisors seemed to grow an extra inch, becoming fangs.

“H—how’d you do that?” you whispered in shock.

Slowly, they retracted to normal size again. “I need them to puncture skin to get to the veins,” he explained.

“You really are a vampire, aren’t you?” you asked, voice hushed.

He nodded. “I am; all those manuscripts I’ve ‘found’? I was around when they were written; that’s why I know history so well, doll. It’s also why I haven’t wanted to move in. I didn’t want you to see that I don’t really eat, at least not human food…. It’s also why we haven’t had sex.”

“Because we’d make some sort of abomination if I got pregnant?” you joked.

Sonny’s eyes widened. “What? No, I can’t have biological kids. But I—I can’t get, um…hard, not unless I feed…. Need the blood and all….”

“Oh…oh! So, it’s not me?” Somehow, this was a relief.

He chuckled in disbelief. “No, it’s not you. I told you, I’ve wanted to have sex with you. I just didn’t think I could go ‘let me feed really quick then come back’.”

You laughed, and he looked at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Well, if that’s all, come here.” You patted the couch next to you, and he seemed skeptical, like this was somehow a trick.

Sonny came around the table to sit on the couch next to you, but he still left space between you, as if touching you would hurt you in some way. “You’re taking this surprisingly well,” he muttered.

You shifted to face him, and you reached out for his hand. He didn’t pull away when you took one of his hands between both of yours. “Dominick, I love you, no matter what you are, human or vampire, or whatever. I only love you.”

“But—but I’m a monster—”

“No, you’re not. You’re my sweet, loving boyfriend. I know you, Dom; I know your morals, your heart. We can talk about what all this means for us tomorrow. Right now, I want you,” you replied.

His eyes widened, and you were sure he’d be blushing if he could—could vampires blush? Gently, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. He seemed stunned, frozen in shock, and you pulled away. His eyes searched your face for a moment before he was on you, lips colliding with yours almost painfully.

The kiss quickly deepened, his tongue easily forcing its way into your mouth. He pushed you down on the couch, kissing you for so long, you thought your lungs would surely shrivel up. Then he was picking you up, carrying you as if your weighed nothing, heading for your bedroom.

Sonny gently laid you on the bed before he ripped—literally tore—his shirt off himself. He climbed over your body, his lips coming back to yours. You scratched at his back, grinding against his thigh as his lips dominated yours.

His mouth trailed down your jaw, nipping as he went. “Pl—please tell me you’ve fed recently. I n—need you, Dominick,” you whined.

“I did, but not enough for this—I never thought this would go so well,” he replied, his voice husky. He pressed a kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. His normally blue eyes were a deep red, and it somehow made him more attractive. “If you want, I can go down on you, then go feed really quick and come back. It’ll be a few hours though; I have to leave the city to find animals.”

You moaned in frustration before a thought struck you. “Feed from me.”

“What?!” Sonny asked in shock.

You smiled softly at him. “Use me, Dominick. Drink from me.”

His eyes were almost completely black with his arousal, the red reduced to a bright ring on the outside of his pupils, and he swallowed hard. “I—I don’t think that’s safe, doll.”

“I trust you, it’ll be fine. Please, babe; I need you inside me, I want you, please.”

His breathing was coming in sharper as his arousal was taking over his rational mind. “And if I can’t stop? If I hurt you?”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. Because I love you, and you love me; I don’t believe you’ll hurt me. It’s okay, Dom.” To make your point, you propped yourself on an elbow, sweeping your hair off one side of your neck before laying back down.

Sonny didn’t notice that he leaned closer to you, only realized when his nose made contact with your throat. He sniffed at you, smelling your sweet blood just under your skin, and his mouth watered.

“That’s it, Dominick. Bite me, drink your fill,” you cooed.

“St—stop tempting me,” he groaned, voice full of arousal. He pressed kisses to your throat before he moved to nuzzle the crook of your neck. His tongue darted out, tasting your skin, and you sighed at the feeling.

“It’s fine; I give you permission. I trust you with my life,” you breathed.

Slowly, you reached up to grip his biceps, his arms caging your body. He sucked and kissed your neck, and you felt his lips move as his fangs grew. “Do you even know how hard it’s been to simply kiss your neck, when all I’ve wanted was to taste you?” he growled, his breath hot on your skin.

“Now’s your chance. Do it; drink.”

He grazed his teeth over your skin as he searched for your vein. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered before he sunk his fangs into you. You gasped in pain as he easily broke skin, your grip on his arms bruising a normal human. His fangs retracted, and he sucked at the incisions, drinking your blood. The magic in his saliva had you seeing stars; it was a mix of euphoria, pleasure, and pain all wrapped into one.

Sonny groaned the moment your blood touched his tongue. He had never tasted anything so delicious in his life. He could easily drink until your body was empty of blood…which is why he made sure to pay close attention to you, your heartbeat. But god, he could never get enough of you, your taste. He barely felt the blood entering his system; he was too distracted with the taste and with your heart. When your grip on his arms started to loosen, he used a great amount of restraint to detach from your neck.

He was panting as he leaned back, licking the blood from his lips. It was only then that he noticed how hard his cock was from just that small amount from you. It was true that he had fed recently, that he didn’t need much more, but he didn’t think that little would be enough.

You gave him a soft smile before you sat up, kissing him deeply. You could taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue, but you didn’t care; you needed him, now. Sonny pushed you back down, then stood just long enough to undress the both of you before he was back on top of you.

“Are you sure—”

“Fuck me, Dominick, please,” you begged. He didn’t need to be told twice before he pushed into you fully. You moaned loudly at the feel of him inside you; his cock was long, curving to brush up against your g-spot perfectly.

“Ready for me, doll?” he asked softly, feeling your walls expand around him.

You gripped his shoulder, light-headed, though from the feel of him or the loss of blood, you weren’t quite sure. “I’ve been ready for you since the moment I met you, my love.”

His expression softened, and he kissed you deeply before he started to move. You could tell he was holding back, afraid to hurt you; he set a slow pace, thrusting deep into you. Your hands traveled down his back to cup his ass, pulling him deeper into you, and he grunted at the feeling.

“You—you feel so amazing. I love you, I love you so much,” he whispered before trailing his lips down to your throat. He sucked marks into you, and you gasped in pleasure; you had told him about your biting kink, something that you now found hilarious.

“S-same; feels so g—good. Fuck, Dom, move faster, please. You’re not going to hurt me,” you moaned.

He kissed your throat once more before he made his way to the two holes on the side of your neck, a drop of blood slowly dripping down your skin. His tongue flicked out, lapping at your blood, and the pace of his hips went up. He dipped his head down to the crook of your neck, kissing your injury, and you moaned again.

“D—Dominick—fuuuuck!—harder, please!” you gasped, trying to match his pace.

With a great force of will, he pulled his mouth from your neck, instead brushing your hair from the other side. He pressed his lips to your skin, kissing and sucking more marks into you.

You dragged one of your hands from behind him, wedging it between your bodies. You quickly found your clit, rubbing yourself as he fucked you into the mattress. Sonny opened his mouth, biting that side of your neck—without his fangs—and it was enough to send you over the edge. You cried out as you came, liquid gushing from you as pleasure washed through your body.

He propped himself up, looking at the mess you made, then smirked. Taking one of your legs, he threw it over his shoulder, sinking even deeper into you. You screamed his name in pleasure as he pounded into you.

“You got another one in ya, doll. Give it to me,” he growled. You brought your hand back to your clit, but he slapped it away, using his own fingers to rub you viciously. You squirmed as he assaulted your overstimulated clit, crying out at the feeling. You grabbed his wrist, but his arm was like stone; you couldn’t pull him away no matter what you did. You screamed as your orgasm crashed through you like a wave. But still, he didn’t stop.

“One more, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me again, I know you can,” Sonny cooed, his hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers were still playing with your clit, and you shuddered at the feeling. His hips hit yours so hard, you were slowly being pushed up the bed until his free hand gripped your hip, bring you down to meet him.

“Dom—Dominick—! Too much—gonna c—cum!” you warned. He doubled his efforts and you gasped as he pulled another orgasm from you. The hand that was rubbing you moved to your hips, and he jackhammered into you, chasing his release. His fingers gripped you hard enough to leave bruises, and you sure you wouldn’t be walking anytime soon.

He leaned down over you, the sound of skin slapping deafening in the room. And then he was groaning your name, his cock twitching as he exploded into you, filling you with his release. He kept thrusting, milking his balls into you, making you whimper. Then he collapsed on top of you, kissing your neck.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. That was fantastic,” he muttered. It took him a moment, but he seemed to remember in that moment that you were human, and he climbed off you. “Holy shit, I’m sorry, are you okay? Was that too much?”

You chuckled, your body aching. But it was a good sore. “Fine, fine. Just a little tired—”

“Right, I’m sorry. It’s—it’s been a while. Here, let me clean you.” He stood, scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. His hands were gentle as he washed you carefully, but you noticed his eyes going back to your neck often. Eventually, he had enough.

“I—I have to bandage that bite; the smell of your blood is intoxicating,” he explained before hurrying to your first aid kit.

While he was gone, you assessed the damage in the mirror. Your neck and throat looked like one huge bruise with how many marks he made. But the two puncture wounds on the side of your neck stood out like a sore thumb. All of this did nothing but turn you on more; you loved being bitten and marked by your partners.

“Was I your first?—human, that is. Uh, human blood?” you asked awkwardly.

Sonny came back quick enough with gauze and tape, and he set about cleaning and disinfecting the wound. “Um, no, you’re not. Definitely first time I’ve had fresh human blood in maybe a century. But you just…you taste like nothing I’ve ever had before. It’s, like I said, intoxicating. I swear I could drain you in an instant if I had a little less control.”

“Good thing you have control, then,” you said, chuckling softly.

He finished bandaging you and looked into your eyes. His were a brighter blue than you’d ever seen before, the red completely gone. “I had control this time, and even then, I should’ve been in full control. I shouldn’t have even bit you, should never have tasted your blood.”

“It’s fine—”

“It’s really not. Now, any time I’m hungry, I’m going to be thinking of you and how good you are. Which just means I’ll have to leave for my feedings earlier than before, to not wait until I’m so hungry,” he explained.

You rose a hand to cup his face, your thumb running over his soft skin. “I love you, Dominick, and I trust you. Now that I know what you are, you can do what you need to survive, without worrying about lying to me.”

He melted against you hand, closing his eyes briefly. “You’re right. Now that you know, I feel so much closer to you than before.”

“And tomorrow, we talk; I want to know everything about you, about your life and your world.”

He smiled softly. “Deal. Plus, we must start working on the paperwork; monsters are not allowed to reveal themselves to the human world. There’s a lot of hoops to jump through—”

“Tomorrow. Right now, I just want you to hold me as we sleep, okay?” you asked, hopeful.

His smile grew and he helped you stand. “I will hold you for as long as you want or need.”

#sonny carisi x reader #fanfic #my writing #dark secrets #monster!au #adarafaelbarbaseptemberbingo #tw blood

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princessphilly · 3 years

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All Bets Are Off Chapter 12

Word Count:

Tag list: @ohpuckyeah, @joelsfarabee, @besthockeyfics. @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2

Join the tag list here!

CW: smut, filthy talk

This is a bit of a filler chapter, sorry.

“Are you going to miss me?”

Nina didn’t even look up from her iPad. It was so annoying yet adorable at the same time, how Sidney was desperately trying to get her to tell him how much she was going to miss him.

“Um, I think you’re going to miss me more than I’ll miss you,” Nina finally replied. She grinned as Sidney huffed.

The first month of the new year had passed by pretty quickly to Nina. After being together for New Year’s Eve, Nina and Sid separated as the Pens had to finish off their road trip. Nina stayed in Miami for Jason’s game before taking an extra week just for herself. It was nice to have a bit of a vacation, especially when Lauren flew down. Nina basically enjoyed being on the beach, hanging out with a close friend, and shopping.

The morning of New Year’s Day, after having their first breakfast together of the new year, Sid had given Nina a card. Nina was shocked to see a credit card with her name on it and she had tried to give it back but Sid had insisted. “You don’t treat yourself enough, pretty girl,” he had firmly stated. So Nina took advantage of it to treat herself a bit.

By the time she came back to Pittsburgh, Sidney’s road trip was over but Nina’s semester had started. They had a couple of weeks where they spent time together as much as possible before the Pens had another short road trip. Now, Sidney was on his way to the Olympics in Beijing for their longest separation so far.

Sidney finally had his bag packed the way that he liked it. Glancing at Nina laying on their, um, his bed, he drawled, “Are you sure you aren’t going to miss me?”

Nina looked up and giggled. “You hog the sheets, Sidney. And you’re like a furnace when you sleep.”

Sidney walked over to the bed, crouching over Nina. “Hurting my feelings right before I have to take a long flight. Tsk tsk.”

“Your flight leaves tomorrow. You’re just making sure you are totally prepared tonight. Stop being so dramatic, Sidney Crosby.”

Sidney smirked as he brushed a hand down Nina’s front. She was clothed, wearing one of his t-shirts. “Still, Nina.

“Still, Sidney.”

Nina stuck out her tongue at Sidney as he giggle-honked. Sidney brushed an errant strand of hair off of Nina’s forehead as he whispered, “I wish you were coming.”

“It was too short of a notice to take almost three weeks off, Sid,” Nina murmured. “Plus, hasn’t it always just been your family attending the Olympics?”

“Yes?”

Nina smiled. “Then, I would be breaking your tradition and your superstitions-”

Sidney opened his mouth to disagree but Nina put a finger over it. “Don’t even start, we both know how important ALL of your superstitions are. Even if you wouldn’t say it, if you lose without a gold medal and I'm there, part of you would be wondering. So quit the bullshit, Sidney.”

Sidney gave Nina a chagrined smile as she laughed at him. She was right, as always.

“Sid, it’ll be fine. You’re lucky I’m a morning person, you can call me crazy early here and I’ll pick up,” Nina reasoned.

Sidney pouted a bit. “I finally got you to actually date me, I don’t want to be separated from you for that long.”

“How cute, Mr. Obsessed-with-Hockey has become soft in his old age.”

Nina squealed when Sidney tickled her, squirming. “Okay, okay, you’re allowed to become soft!”

Sidney gave Nina a soft smile and she gulped. Something shifted in that look and Nina felt like there was something new.

Sidney bit his lip as Nina nervously laughed. In that moment, the pure joy on Nina’s face as she squealed while he tickled her, Sidney was sure that he loved her. He loved Nina. But this was the wrong time to admit that. So he chuckled and said, “If I’m soft, it’s only because of you.”

Nina stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Sidney chose not to respond to that statement, instead choosing to slide his lips over hers. Soft and sweet, exploratory as they kissed, not their usual hungry kisses. Then Nina wrapped a leg around Sidney’s waist and the mood changed.

Nina ended the kiss first, whispering, “I can feel that someone is going to really miss me.”

“Going to miss you so much,” Sidney replied, grinding his hips into Nina’s core. “Let me show you.”

Nina gasped as Sidney sucked along her neck, just light enough not to leave any marks. “Gonna give you something to remember while I’m gone,” Sidney promised as his hands went under her shirt before pulling it off.

Nina grinned before moaning as Sidney began to do exactly what he promised to do.

Sidney sighed as he sent the text. Everything was going great, even after a couple of hiccups in their first group stage games. This year, it was obvious to Sidney that this was going to be the last Olympics for him. Except for him, Tazer, Bergy, Tanger, Webs, Price, and Giroux, all of the other players on the team were under 30. Sidney saw his job as captain this year to not just get one more gold, but get the younger guys ready to take over.

Right now, they were getting ready to play against Germany, their first game after the group stage, the real games. It was before pregame; the players whose families had come to Beijing were giving well-wishes. At this moment, Sidney wished Nina was here with him instead of home in Pittsburgh.

His phone pinged and Sidney relaxed when he saw the message: its midnight here. Good luck. Im g2g2 sleep. Bye

That message was quickly followed by another one: why the hell did they schedule yall for so fucking late? figured canada would be primetime here

Sidney laughed when he saw Nina’s message. Giroux looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Must be the elusive girlfriend.”

Giroux’s wife elbowed him, causing him to say ow. Sidney snickered; they may be teammates for Team Canada but their truce was still a fragile truce. Ryanne Giroux said, “I heard Nina’s very sweet and kind.”

“Oh?”

Sidney was suddenly very curious. Blithely, Ryanne replied, “You know as well as I do it’s a small league. People only have the kindest things to say about her.”

Relaxing a bit, Sidney grinned. “Nina’s pretty fucking amazing. I’m lucky she likes me.”

“Oh God, he’s talking about Nina again.”

Sidney’s grin turned into a smile as Tanger clasped him on the back. Tanger continued, “It took five years-”

“Five years,” Giroux asked as Sidney groaned. “Stop giving him chirp material.”

Ryanne snickered as Sidney’s phone pinged again; kris says ur bragging about me again?

“Really, Tanger, really?”

Kris laughed as Sidney narrowed his eyes. “Calm down, Sid.”

Before Sidney could reply, Nina sent him another text: score a hat trick

Sidney gave his phone a soft smile. It was time to get focused for the game, so Sidney put his phone away as soon as he went back into the locker room.

Nina cracked an eye open. The time difference was a motherfucker; it was 5:45 am but 5:45pm. Yawning, Nina sat up in her bed as she accepted the call from Sid.

“Nina, really?”

“Good morning to you,” Nina yawned.

Sid slightly frowned. Nina was wearing a team USA t-shirt. Her shorts were blue. Even her sleep bonnet was blue.

“I’m not Canadian, Sid.”

“Stilll-“

Nina smirked as she shook her head. “No, I’m not rooting for you. Score as many goals as you want, I’m Team USA.”

Sidney scowled as Nina laughed. “It’s not even like the US made the gold medal game!”

Nina was disappointed in Team USA. She was hoping they would make it to the gold medal game but they were going to go against Finland for Bronze. Tomorrow, at 8am Beijing Time, 8pm EST, Canada was going against Sweden for gold.

“Still, you should be rooting for me.”

“I am,” Nina reasoned. “I want you to score all the goals. But, I just cannot root for Canada, yet.”

“Yet.”

Nina looked up to the ceiling before yawning again. Sidney was in a snit. She felt a tiny bit bad for Sweden because they were going to get it. But that wasn’t her problem. “Seriously, good luck, Sidney.”

“Thank you, Nina.”

Nina blew Sidney a kiss and he pretended to catch it. Then he licked his lips. “How many days did you take off when I get back?”

“Three, Sidney. Just three.”

Nina couldn’t help the rush of heat in her center when Sidney drawled, “I don’t plan to let you out of my house then.”

“Win the damn gold then,” Nina snapped.

Sidney chuckled, saying, “You’re ready to go back to sleep then. Sweet dreams, Nina.”

“Bye, Sid.”

Nina looked down at her phone. There were three messages, long messages, all from Sid. She took in a deep, fortifying breath. Canada had one gold and Sidney had two goals. From the highlights, it seemed like Sidney was on a mission the whole game. Sighing, Nina pressed play on the first one. It was just a noisy celebration, nothing big until Sidney started talking. His talking was garbled at first and Nina laughed when she realized that he was drunk off his ass when he called her.

The second voicemail started just as garbled, then Nina heard Sidney clearly say, “I’m so happy we won, I still wish you were here, you’re my new lucky charm, pretty girl. Fuck, I love you so much, pretty girl, you make everything better now that you’re mine.”

The next one was just sappy as the second, but Sidney was definitely somewhere quieter with this one. But he was also just as drunk, as he ended by saying, “I wanna fuck you when I get back, with you wearing my gold, pretty girl. This gold is almost as pretty as you.”

Nina ruefully laughed, already expecting apologetic texts from Sidney when he was sober. But for the rest of the day, the thought lingered in her mind, the idea that Sidney loved her. However, her patients kept Nina busy and she didn’t get a moment to really ruminate on that. Then, Nina went over to Karesha’s house to babysit her play nephew, AJ, as Karesha went out with her boyfriend.

Within an hour of leaving, Karesha came back in, heated as she slammed the door. AJ commented, “He must have made Mom mad again.”

“AJ, please go upstairs and play with your Legos, Mommy needs to talk to Aunt Nina,” Karesha asked, trying hard to control her voice.

AJ quickly ran up the stairs, loudly closing the door to his room. Karesha flopped on the couch, kicking off her expensive heels. “Fuck men.”

Nina got up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. Pour shots, she passed one to Karesha before sitting back down next to her friend. Karesha gratefully smiled before downing the shot.

“I’m tired of this shit. I told him it was over through text. How dare he say he’s coming up to Pittsburgh before spring training and then text me after I get to the restaurant to say he’s not coming after all. I’m done. I can’t.”

Nina murmured sympathetically, “Fuck him.”

“I’m so glad I never brought him around AJ though,” Karesha stated. “He had the nerve to say I spent too much time with my kid when I told him it was over.”

Nina’s eyes widened at that statement. “What are you supposed to do? Parent him less?”

Thoughts about Sidney were forgotten as Nina consoled her friend. Deciding to sleep over, Nina woke up early in the morning on the couch, several texts from Sidney waiting for her. Nina quickly scanned over them, starting with a text telling Nina his flight was about to come in to the last one asking if everything was okay. Nina sent him a message: friend had a crisis, be over around 10

It was early, around 7am so Nina didn’t expect to get a response. But Sidney replied: everything ok?

As ok as it’s gonna be, don’t worry, Nina sent back before straightening up Karesha’s living room. She then slipped out, locking the door from the inside.

“Gonna get you full with my cum, pretty girl. Fuck, look at you, your pussy already trying to milk my cum.”

Nina groaned as she watched Sid fuck her, claiming her. Her legs were over his shoulders, allowing Sidney to fuck her deep. “You missed me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina managed to say. He was fucking her so good, each stroke hitting her g-spot. It was like Sidney returned as a man on a mission.

“I missed you. Dreamed of you every night, Nina,” Sidney rasped.

“Mmmm.”

Nina no longer had words, she could feel her high coming. Then she felt Sidney’s fingers, just two fingers on her clit and it was enough to send her over the edge. Nina screamed, her nails digging into Sidney’s back. That was enough to get Sidney to reach his high as well, his grunts wordless as he came.

Nina sighed as Sidney withdrew, already sad at feeling empty. Sidney sat back on his haunches, watching as his cum started to leak out of Nina’s pussy. “I’ll never get enough of seeing that,” he remarked as he played with Nina’s clit. “Just for me, pretty girl.”

Moaning, Nina closed her eyes. She was sensitive but she felt herself respond to Sidney’s fingers. Then his fingers were replaced with his tongue, his fingers fucking his cum deeper inside of her pussy and the time for rational thought was gone.

Six weeks later

Nina sighed as she rifled through her bag for the keys to her apartment. Today was her thirty-first birthday and for some reason, she felt weird. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m now on the other side of thirty,’ Nina thought to herself.

The morning began with happy birthday texts from friends, birthday calls from Mom and Dad, and a facetime call with Jason. Sidney had sent her a funny meme birthday text but nothing else. Nina knew she shouldn’t feel too bad; the Pens were trying to solidify their playoff spot in the division and her birthday, April 5, fell right at the end of the season. As she opened the door, Nina hoped that Sid would at least do something once the playoffs were over. At the same time, it felt weird that she wasn’t going out with her parents either.

Just her luck that for the first time she was in a relationship around her birthday, her boyfriend had reasons not to take her out. Nina sniffled as she turned on the light.

“SURPRISE!!”

Nina gasped as Sidney, Kris, Geno, Anna, Catherine, Taylor, Alex, Victoria, Mario, Nathalie, Guentzy, Tristan, Hannah, Karesha, AJ, Lauren, her mom and dad, and Aryanna jumped out. Eyes wide, Nina burst into tears.

“Oh no, what’s wrong pretty girl,” Sidney replied, folding Nina into his arms.

Nina sniffled as she cried, “I thought everyone forgot my birthday!”

“I told you she wasn’t going to take it well,” Karesha muttered as Lauren kicked her. “Girl, be happy he did this all for you when he could be extra obsessive about the playoffs.”

Nina cut her eyes at Karesha before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Sid’s cheek. “Thank you, Sid.”

The pictures of that night were put into a small scrapbook. Nina didn’t understand Sidney’s love for documenting memories in such a dramatic way but it was nice to look back at the memories in book form instead of having to scroll through her phone. Playoffs were now starting though so Nina was sure that would be the last carefree time until the playoffs were over, this time hopefully with another cup.

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avengerscompound · 3 years

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The Tower: Happily Ever After - 5

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1601

Warnings: Pregnancy

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children. Yet things aren’t perfect. Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 5: Farewell to Our Old Life

It was kind of strange how little there was to organize for us regarding our move. There was packing, but we couldn’t exactly hire a moving truck so it needed to fit in bags that we could carry or it had to stay behind. That was difficult. We had had a long time to collect a lot of things we considered precious to us. The glass artwork that Thor and I had inadvertently made on our honeymoon was the thing I wished we could bring the most. It would stay in the fountain in the entry and hopefully, we’d come back sometimes and see it.

Thankfully, most of our things were fairly portable. We also wouldn’t need a lot of clothes because Asgard would provide things more fitting for the palace, and it’s not like we would need any furniture. Mostly it was just personal effects and tech that Tony wanted to use there.

Other than that it was just letting the doctors know I was leaving, pulling Marya out of school, and organizing the party.

It was still leaning on the stressful side though - especially considering we were still waiting to hear what the rest of the kids were going to do.

Even though Rose and Paul had appeared closest to deciding to come, it was Billy and Teddy who came back to us first with a yes. They had also said they wanted to do a bonding ceremony when we were there, which added another level of excitement and another level of stress.

Rose and Paul came next. They said that they would try it out and see. The concern about their children’s lifespan was a big issue for them, but Paul also said he’d be crazy to give up at least trying to live on Asgard as actual royalty.

As expected it was Eddie who took the longest to decide. He really did love his job, and I think even with his talk about having children, he, Lyra, and Rory were still right into the rich, young party lifestyle. He was worried about what they’d lose going to Asgard, rather than focusing on the things he might gain.

No one pressured him though. Any questions the three had were answered as honestly as we could and if we didn’t know we’d send word back to Asgard and Loki would come and give the answers they were looking for if at all possible. Eventually, he decided that he’d give it six months for us to settle and make sure things with Stark Industries and the Avengers was transitioning smoothly given our sudden departure, and then he and his family would join us there to try it out. He mentioned maybe doing six months on each planet or returning to Earth for a month or two every year, but we were all just glad he was willing to try it out, and his delayed departure from Earth was a good idea. He even promised to come and visit when his new siblings were born.

When our goodbye party began, the whole family was excited for this new chapter in our lives and sad to say goodbye to the last.

Many of our friends were elderly or had passed on, so the party was going to be a mixture of different people. Clarke was still around, though Jax had passed a few years ago. We’d lost Rhodey and Fury, though Hill was still running the day-to-day operations of the Avengers, even in her old age, and Coulson had retired after years as successfully being director of SHIELD. Vision was the same as ever, and people often came to him for direction when it came to the Avengers. Carol also hadn’t changed though she still spent more time in space than on Earth. A lot of the people we had met that had seemed so young when we met them, were all not officially middle-aged. Even Peter Parker who was only fifteen when I met him was now pushing fifty and had a wife and daughter of his own.

They would all be at the party, including a lot of the new Avengers lineup. Most of whom were much heavier hitters than any of us, even when we were wielding Mjolnir. It was definitely going to be sad to say goodbye.

“It’s going to be okay, you know?” Wanda said, snapping me out of my mini-trance as she ran a brush methodically through my hair.

“No, I know,” I said, tilting my head back.

“Then tell your brain that,” she teased.

I giggled and leaned up and pecked her lips. “I’m sorry. I would if I could. Just hormones I guess. Feeling stressed.”

“Well, stop it,” she scolded playfully. “It’s bad for the babies.”

She began to braid my hair and I hummed as her fingertips grazed over my scalp. “Imagine it though, Elly,” Wanda said. “All the kids nearby - the new babies.”

“You’re a baby-oholic,” I said, laughing softly.

“It’s true,” she says. “I am.”

She ran a hand around my side and pressed it on my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet them,” she said. “They already have such busy thoughts.”

I looked up at her and I’m not sure whether it was the look of pure and complete love in her eyes or the way the light caught in her hair, but I was struck by how beautiful she was and how much I loved her. She smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you too,” she said and picked up a strand of silver wire with black opal and threaded it into my hair. “All done.”

I stood carefully and straightened out the skirts on my blue lace cocktail dress. “How do I look?” I asked.

“Perfect as always,” she said. “Let's go say goodbye to our friends.”

We made our way down to the party deck where the party was only just starting up. Bruce, Steve, and Clint were all already there, but there was no sign of Tony, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Thor, or Bucky.

Some of our kids were there and their kids all played out in the garden atrium that was built on the protruding wing of the tower and the party deck opened out into. I greeted everyone and as I made my way around the room more people arrived.

Clarke came over and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and smiled, hugging her tightly. She had aged well, not as well as I had obviously, but while her face was lined and she was a little frailer looking, she had kept in good shape and she continued to color her hair. It would be easy to think she was in her early fifties rather than her mid-seventies. Her eyes were what gave it away. What had once been vivid violet had faded to pale lavender and were slightly cloudy. They were heavily lined at the corners, the years having carved deep crevices to mark each time she was happy or sad or angry or worried. It was still my Clarke though and I was going to miss her.

“I can’t believe you’re not going to be here when these two are born,” she said, indicating to my stomach as we pulled apart. She was one of the select group of people I would be totally fine with touching my stomach unasked - but she never assumed. “Where am I going to get my baby kisses from?”

I laughed and shook my head. “I guess you’ll have to visit me on Asgard.”

“You can do that?” She asked.

“I mean… I’m the Queen. I think I can pull some strings,” I teased.

She laughed. “God, thinking of you as a Queen is such a trip.”

“Hey Auntie Clarke,” Billy said, appearing behind us. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

Clarke hugged him and looked around. “It’s been too long. Where are those kids of yours.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to them,” he looked over at me and narrowed his eyes. “You go sit down, mom. You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I am taking it easy,” I argued, holding up my hands. “I’m just standing here.”

“Go on,” he said. “Don’t make me page Dad Tony.”

“Heaven forbid,” I laughed and he wrinkled his nose at me and led Clarke out to the atrium. I got myself a little plate of appetizers and a glass of punch and went and took a seat.

It wasn’t long until the whole room was teeming with people. The Avengers had gotten to be a rather large collection of people since the original six had been reluctantly dragged together all those years ago. Having so many of the people who meant so much to all of us here at the same time couldn’t help but make me think about how I’d first joined this group that would one day be my family.

All those years ago I had been a traumatized woman in her mid-twenties, just trying to get by. I didn’t have many good friends, because it took a lot for me to trust people. It took a superhero to get through and with her, so many other people flooded in after. I was so grateful to them, and so in love with each of them to this day. It would be hard letting this life of ours go, but it was inevitable. I still had my 9 chosen people though, and I always would. I was glad to be taking this next step with them at my side.

// NEXT

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 1 (Perfect)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, smut, angst, fluff, potential blood mentions, genocide, runaways, domestic violence, child abuse, abandonment, homelessness, hunger, violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: I recommend listening to Perfect by Ed Sheeran before reading this. That’s the song I thought of while writing this because it makes me feel some type of way you know?

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀 & ☁️

Lonely Together Master List

Chapter 1: Perfect

It had been so long since you’d been around so many people. It made you antsy. You didn’t understand a lot of what was going on in the house. The constant noise scared you. It had you on such an edge that you nearly screamed everytime one of them coughed.

To be fair, before you had met them, you’d honestly jump at footsteps. Because footsteps meant humans, and humans meant danger. Not to mention that you were still not used to being in your human form. You preferred to stay a wolf, you were stronger when you walked on all four legs, and you weren’t as noticeable.

Your human appearance was… striking to most people to say the least. Your bright eyes and darker skin with salt and pepper curly hair made everyone around you always stare at you. You understood it somewhat, you didn’t match everyone else’s looks in Korea. But that didn’t mean you liked people watching you all the time, you hated being the center of attention. So to say you were still adjusting to being around people after having lived alone for centuries was a bit of an understatement. It was all so new to you. You had a new feeling now too. You just weren’t sure what it was…

At first, you thought maybe it was hope. You hadn’t hoped in such a long time, it would bring tears to even the most hardened criminal’s eyes. But you weren’t that good at trusting that human part of you. So you decided to go off of what you knew. And, even though you hadn’t been there long, two weeks at the most you thought, you learned a lot of things about them. You knew all but one of the wolves had a mate. You knew that two of the alphas butted heads on how to lead the pack a lot and that one just watched from the side and did everything behind the scenes without causing too much distress to the others. You knew they all loved each other, no matter what they said or how much they fought. You also knew that, being around them made you feel more alone than you’ve felt in decades.

When you were younger, you didn’t mind being alone. It meant that you didn’t have to rely on anyone, it meant you only had to look out for yourself. And as you got older, it just felt… right. But being around this house full to the brim with people, you started to realize just how much you missed being part of a big family. They treated you like you were one of them. Which was weird to you… because they didn’t really know you. I mean sure they saved you from imminent death, but they didn’t know you from Adam.

The more you thought about your current situation, the weirder the feeling got. The closer you got to each one of them, the stronger the feeling got. And when you got close to one of the quiet ones in particular, you swore it felt like your heart was singing to you. It was something you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to, but it wasn’t something you necessarily hated either. Whatever the feeling was, you’d figure it out eventually or it would go away on its own… right?

Still, You got to eat first with the other mates, well the mates minus Soonyoung. He may have been Seungcheol’s mate but 1.) he was a wolf unlike the other mates and 2.) he was a male wolf so he ate just as much as the other boys did. So they didn’t think it fair that he get to eat with all of you. Or them…. Or-whatever. You didn’t know, you just knew they offered you and the other girls food first and, considering you used to have to hunt for your food or you didn’t get to eat, you were definitely NOT complaining. Soonyoung though, you learned, had a tendency to whine about any and everything that he didn’t like.

“Aww come on again! No fair! (Y/N)’s just as much of a wolf as I am! Why does SHE get to eat first when I don’t??” Soonyoung decided to voice aloud, grabbing his plate with both hands and semi-patiently waiting for his turn to grab food.

You didn’t mind of course. You did think he had a point. It didn’t seem fair to him. Either he should be eating with the other mates, or you should be eating with the other wolves. So you agreed.

“He’s got a point. I should be eating with the other wolves. I eat more than the other girls after all” you shrugged matter of factly to the lead alpha, who was also his mate, who was hunched over the stove making said breakfast.

The thing is, Seungcheol did understand the argument. And he personally saw merit to the concerns, whether it was because it was a genuine point or whether it was just from months of his mate complaining about it, he didn’t know. Still, he saw it’s reasonings and thought they could be sound.

BUUUT, he also knew that SOMEBODY would definitely NOT be happy if you had to wait and fight the boys for food. It seemed everyone, wolves and mates alike, but you understood that Jihoon had imprinted on you already. Maybe you just didn’t know much about it, or maybe you knew and just decided you didn’t want to know, either way, it wasn’t for him to decide or judge.

So, as he looked over to the table of boys who were ACTUALLY patiently waiting their turn to dig in, his eyes landed on Jihoon, who shook his head and narrowed his eyes at the older wolf in return. Of course you didn’t notice this action, you were always more in your own head than you were in conversations.

“Sucks to suck kids. I make the rules and I say you eat with the mates. End of story. Sorry love!” he declared, once again moving his eyes ever so slightly to Jihoon, who nodded his head slightly as he smiled triumphantly.

He was NOT about to let his newfound mate eat the other mates leftovers with the other wolves. No. That was absolutely NOT happening. He may not have “officially” expressed that you were his mate, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna do everything in his power to make sure you were happy, healthy, and well fed.

“But-” you argued, trying to bring your point’s validity up to him again.

“But nothing (Y/N). Sure you eat more than the other girls. But you DEFINITELY don’t eat as much as the boys do. Even if you are a wolf. Besides you’re one of-” he trailed off just as someone around the room hit the table slightly and coughed. Everyone but you realized where he was going with that sentence, and Jihoon wasn’t ready to face that just yet.

“-One of our guests.” Seungcheol thought after a moment, clearly lying his ass off but hoping he did a good enough job that you didn’t notice. Luckily for him, you weren’t all that great at social cues. “Therefore you shall not be eating whatever’s left, you’ll get first dibs with the other girls.” He said as he sat one of the plates of remaining food left from what the mates couldn’t eat down on the table, kissing his pouting mates forehead in the process.

“Don’t worry about Soonyoung. He’s just a baby. He’ll get over it. You deserve to be eating with the mates.” Spoke the smallest boy of the pack with a smile that seemed to light up as bright as a bonfire whenever you looked him in the eyes. He was the one that had your heart singing whenever you were in the same room. His little declaration made your cheeks heat up.

“O-Okay, I guess. I still don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve the special treatment… but thank you” you resolved with a polite smile back, doing your best to hide the pink covering your face. His heart rate sped up to jackrabbit speed as his inner wolf seemed to beamed at your answer.

“No (Y/N). Thank YOU.” Hansol retorted with a shit eating grin on his face. What he wanted to say was “thanks for helping one of the assholes in the group become juuuuust a little less of an asshole by being his mate,” but obviously he couldn’t do that without getting his ass beat.

“Thank me? Thank me for what?” You questioned, genuinely curious as to what he was thanking you for. You hadn’t done anything to warrant a thank you… had you?

“Oh nothing. Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out… eventually” He let out, looking at Jihoon, earning a smack from the older wolf and a small growl. Though he whined for a second, Hansol still began to laugh at his actions.

“…Okaaaay…” you said, trying your best to forget the conversation as a whole so you could eat the remains of your pancakes. Man these guys are weird.

Jihoon wasn’t sure exactly what he should do. He knew he couldn’t deny his instincts forever. But he wasn’t so sure about this whole “mate” thing. I mean, who was he kidding, he got along better on his own. He survived on his own for his entire life, at the orphanage, at school, even in his pack. For the most part, he kept to himself. He was SEVERELY independent, and he liked it that way. People just always managed to bring attachments and strings. Even still, He couldn’t cut off his pack. I mean don’t get him wrong, he loved those idiots and would do anything for them, but fuck, if they didn’t have the dumbest ideas and get themselves into the stupidest shit sometimes.

He knew his survival instinct told him to just ignore the feelings he had for you and act like nothing happened to protect himself. It’s not like you had noticed anyways. But the wolf part of him loved the idea of having a mate. For the longest time, he had to sit around and watch his brothers find their mates and fall in deep love. He watched Seungcheol find Soonyoung first a few months after he had met him. Then Joshua found his mate, Mina, after a few weeks of knowing him. Even little Channie imprinted on his mate, Somi, after just two days of Jihoon being acquainted with him.

Before he knew it, it was just him left without one. They always seemed so… happy and he just… wasn’t. He didn’t mind of course. He was glad his brothers found happiness. But he soon came to realize how lonely being alone truly was. He’d see his pack and their mates do cute things and, his heart was struck with a dull pain that never seemed to lessen, and at the time he didn’t understand why that was. But when he saw you, he knew the whole time he was yearning for you. When he saw you, for once he didn’t completely loathe the idea of taking care of or protecting another person. Even if it meant becoming one of the “lovey people.” He saw you and, one bat of your beautiful eyelashes and he knew, he would gladly lay his life down for you. How could he not?

You were caring and kind, even if you didn’t like to show it. You held yourself high, even if you were small. You were little, but you were mighty. You were smart, yet funny. You hardly spoke, but when you did, it was always something memorable. You never seemed to hold your true self back. He already knew that you were Perfect for him, even if he’d hardly spoken to you. He just couldn’t help the sane part of him that was very weary of the whole situation.

As Jihoon debated his true feelings for you over his breakfast, the other wolves went and conversed with each other. They tried to speak to you too, but you never really had a lot to say. You preferred to listen, which they weren’t all that surprised at. Jihoon was the quiet, calm, smart wolf, so it’s no surprise that his mate was the same way. You’d both always seem to get lost in thought almost simultaneously. You’d both come back to Earth at the same time too, always with very similar excuses.

Though everytime your eyes met, you’d both look away, trying your best to hide the blushes that spread across both your cheeks. It was kind of cute and the pack loved that their brother wouldn’t have to be all alone any longer. He’d no longer have to just sit on the side lines while they all had the time of their lives. He now had you, even if you didn’t realize it yet. You could both be Lonely Together.

Another Author’s Note: I know this chapter is relatively short compared to the others I’ve written so far, but honestly, your girls tired as fuck. I work a full time job, go to school full time, and take care of a lot of my family’s household. Let’s just be lucky I can write at all. Plus, I wrote Wonwoo’s story earlier today too. So let’s just call it a success and I’ll write a better chapter for him next time!

(Updated 9/6)

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt au #seventeen x reader #jihoon #woozi drabble #woozi fluff #woozi angst #svt woozi #seventeen woozi

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buckybeardreams · 3 years

Text

Unwanted

Chapters: 10/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,583

Tony went to Brock's to tell him about winning the case against Obie and Pierce, and ended up making another less expected announcement. One that Brock followed up with good news of his own.

"Wait? You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone. We're not telling people yet," Brock told him.

"I'm sorry, what? If I hadn't just told you I was pregnant, would you not have told me?"

"Probably not."

"What the fuck, Brock? I'm your best friend!"

"Yeah, but you know I was an only child, Tony. Not from a lack of trying on my parents' part either. They went through three miscarriages before they finally used in vitro to have me. If this baby doesn't make it, I don't want to deal with a whole bunch of people pitying me while I'm grieving."

Tony reached over and pulled him in for a hug.

"Okay, I get it now, but can I at least tell Steve?"

"Honestly, it's inevitable. I went to the hair salon yesterday and my hairdresser told me that Jessica, some girl that lives in her apartment that I don't even know, was having an affair with her current lover's ex-lover, not to mention she's married with three kids. I spilled my guts the moment Sam got home. Keeping things from mates is practically impossible."

Tony bit his lip.

"I haven't told Steve."

"Of course you didn't. You just found out, Tony. You literally haven't even left the room and your phone is sitting on the coffee table. How would you have told him?"

Tony shook his head.

"No, not that. I mean that I'm pregnant."

Brock blinked at him for a minute before narrowing his eyes.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously.

Tony fidgeted nervously.

"I don't know how he's gonna take it," Tony admitted.

Brock rolled his eyes.

"Good God, you're pathetic," Brock groaned in exasperation. "Seriously? That boy lives to please you. He's gonna be thrilled that you're gonna need massages and foot rubs for the next nine months. Not to mention, now he's gonna have two people to order him around. He's gonna be so excited to spoil your little mini-me, Tony."

Tony glared at him halfheartedly.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm still anxious about it and I'm not entirely sure why. I know it's ridiculous and I know Steve's gonna be thrilled."

Brock eyed him for a moment.

"Yes, we've established that," Brock said, watching Tony carefully. "What about you? Are you excited about it?"

Tony bit his lip and looked over at Brock guiltily.

"I don't know. I know that I should be. I know that babies are like miracles and all that, but I never thought I'd have one. I never thought I'd have an Alpha and now I do, and now this. It's just a lot and I'm not sure if I'm ready. I'm not sure if I want a child."

Brock nodded.

"If you need someone to go with you to take care of it, Tony-"

"No, no, I'm gonna keep it. I already considered that, but I think I'll regret it if I do."

Brock frowned.

"There's nothing wrong-"

"No, I know, Brock. It's not that. It's just- I think I'm scared, because this wasn't part of the plan. Steve wasn't part of the plan and the plan has completely changed. It's a lot, but I was scared about Steve, too, and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe this baby will be like that too."

Brock nodded.

"Okay, if it's really what you want then I'll support it and be happy for you. I'll support you no matter what choice you make, you know that right?"

"I do and I love you for that."

Brock rolled his eyes, but he smiled softly and pulled Tony in for a hug.

"Now let's talk nurseries," Brock said when he pulled back.

Tony grinned at him.

*****

"We're buying the bar," Tony said to the group.

He had invited everyone over to Steve's place, since his place was bigger and neater and just overall better for hosting people. He chose to do this on a Sunday night, the only night that the bar wasn't open, so everyone could be there. Everyone was so excited about having won the case, but also scared about what that would mean for them. They had all figured when they first decided to take their boss to court that they would be left jobless regardless of the outcome.

Clint raised his hand like he was still in elementary school and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Clint? Do you have something to say to the class?" Tony said sarcastically.

"Um... you're doing what?"

Tony sighed.

"We-" He said, gesturing between him and Steve, "Are buying the bar. This way we can all keep our jobs, have decent fucking pay checks, get the benefits we deserve, and just overall have a positive work environment. Sound good?"

There were murmurs and nods of agreement. Bucky stood up and grabbed the bottle of wine on the counter.

"Okay, well, I think we should all drink to that and to our new bosses."

"Yeah, um, we should clarify, that while I'm technically gonna be on the lease, it's really only because it looks good to have an Alpha on it," Steve said. "I'm an artist. Um, leadership? Yeah, that's not really my thing. Tony, though, he's gonna make a damn fine boss. So yeah, he's gonna run the place and work with you guys. I'm just gonna do the paperwork and manage schedules. That kind of behind the scenes stuff."

Tony giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Steve's gonna be a great co-owner and let me do whatever I want with the place, so I suggest you kiss up to me, if there's anything specific you want out of the renovations," Tony teased. "Steve will also be very busy raising our child and being a work-from-home dad while he paints and helps manage the bar.

Tony rested his hand on his flat belly and all the eyes in the room went wide and congratulations and cheers went off after a moment of shock. Steve was the most shocked though and it took him the longest to say something.

"Wait? Are you serious? Tony, if you're joking then tell me now before I get my hopes up."

"Nope, not joking," Tony told him with a grin, but a part of him was nervous that Steve would be unhappy about it.

"Oh my God. Oh my God! We're having a baby!" Steve practically shouted to the room in his excitement and scooped Tony up into his arms.

Tony laughed and wrapped his limbs around him, leaning down to kiss him.

"I can't believe it. This is amazing, baby! I'm gonna set up a nursery-"

"No, I'm setting up the nursery and Brock's gonna help me since he's also pregnant and we're gonna have matching nurseries."

"Right, right, then I'm gonna paint a mural on the walls."

"That's acceptable."

"Yeah and- Wait? Did you say Brock's pregnant?"

"Yeah, but you didn't hear it from me. They're not telling people yet," Tony told him with a wink.

Steve furrowed his brows.

"Who else would I have heard it from if they're not telling people?"

"I don't know. Sam?"

"But Sam would know that he didn't tell me," Steve pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Not my problem."

Steve set Tony down when Bucky cleared his throat.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but I've got wine," Bucky said handing a glass to Steve before reaching for a glass on the counter, "and for you--"

"Oh, no, I can't--"

"It's grape juice, Tony," Bucky cut him off. "I wouldn't do anything to risk your baby."

Tony nodded his thanks and smiled at Bucky.

"Congratulations, by the way. On the mating and the pup."

The words seemed sincere enough, but Bucky's smile seemed off. Tony brushed it off though, letting everyone else come up and hug him and make him promise to invite them to the baby shower. It was a good day, everyone in high spirits, excited about the new baby and getting to keep their jobs.

*****

That night at home Steve sat on the couch with Tony's feet in his lap, rubbing them.

"I'll do this for you everyday until the baby's born," Steve promised.

Tony smirked.

"Only until the baby's born," Tony teased, wiggling his toes.

Steve laughed.

"No, I'll do it every day until we die, because I love you more than anything in the world and I'd do anything for you, Tony, my beautiful Omega.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Yeah, well, don't let the baby hear you say that. I'm pretty sure your world is going to expand the moment I pop this thing out."

"Yeah," Steve said dreamily. "I can't believe we're gonna be parents."

"Yeah, this kid's so fucked," Tony teased.

Steve grinned at him.

"We're gonna have the most spoiled, loved, and happiest baby ever. He's never gonna want for anything."

"He? What makes you think we're having a boy?"

"Or she," Steve amended. "I don't care either way. I just hope the baby's just like you."

"Well, jokes on you. This baby's gonna have blond hair and blue eyes."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say the baby was gonna look like you, just be like you. You know, brilliant and stubborn."

Tony giggled and shook his head.

“Just focus on rubbing my feet, Alpha.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve teased.

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livingmybestfictionallife · 3 years

Text

Live Wire --The Dirt-- 16

This is part 1 of the US Festival and mostly told in Nikki’s perspective. Next part will be a direct continuation of this chapter.

Doc and Doug has brought Wren along to each meeting they attended that planned Motley Crue’s involvement with the US Festival in the winter of 1982 and the spring of 1983, and they couldn’t deny the woman had a surprising knack for entertainment management. They’d known she would be an asset to them when it came to being a voice of reason to the twenty-something-year-old band of buffoons Motley Crue tended to be, but they didn’t suspect her to be an asset on the more professional and managerial aspect of her role. After how she’d handled herself upon meeting them at the Rainbow, they shouldn’t have underestimated her, but it was the 1980s and she was a twenty-year-old girl who happened to stumble across one of the next biggest bands to hit LA. They treated her as their acquaintance’s great-niece whom they presumed was a groupie for this band, but damn did they get a wakeup call afterwards.

First of all, Nikki and Tommy refused to accept any assistance from Doc or Doug without the stipulation that they became additions to Wren and not replacements, and Mick and Vince were quick to back up their bass player and drummer. Second, it seemed that when it came to booking local gigs, Wren had always beaten the pair to the punch; in fact, a lot of the calls Doc and Doug made to venues asking to get the band booked were responded with “Yeah, Ledden called up and scheduled a couple weekend shows about two weeks ago. You guys looking to book more than that?” At first it was frustrating to be one-upped by a newbie to the scene, but then they realized that Motley Crue were the newbies to the Strip and were taking it by storm. Why would the person who they had as their initial—and for the longest time only—manager be any different than they were?

However, booking the US Festival had more to do with Doc’s history with the Scorpions than Wren’s determination. Apparently, Doc and Mikkey Dee had remained in touch after changing management, and Mikkey had shared the fact that the producers of the event were searching for another act for Heavy Metal Day. However, just because she hadn’t booked the gig before Doc or Doug didn’t mean they weren’t going to include her in the planning process. Time and time again she impressed them to the point they forgot she was hardly any older than the youngest members of the band.

Nikki bit the inside of his lip as he watched the morning sun kiss Wren’s skin from where he stood at a distance. A soft breeze dusted the earth as the band wandered the festival grounds, preparing for what would be one of their biggest breaks in the United States. He’d lingered behind and paced slowly alongside Mick as Wren and Tommy hurried ahead with Vince to explore their surroundings. Nikki had known Wren for two years now, and had seen her in a number of different lights: strong, defiant, independent, vulnerable, scared, and sorrowful, but one of his favorites was her genuine excitement towards things. Even though he stood a few feet behind her, he knew her face would be beaming under the sunglasses she’d stolen from him that morning on the way to the event. Her cheeks would be full with delight as her intoxicating smile fell over her lips. Her movements were energetic as she and Tommy noticed her the stage the band would share that day with the greats that had paved the way for them. With jubilance in her steps, Wren nearly dragged Tommy by the arm as she ran towards the stage. With a leap, Wren heaved herself up onto the stage with her best friend on her heels. Together, they stood arm in arm, and gazed out at the vast grounds before them that would soon be filled with eager fans throwing themselves around to the newest songs she and Nikki had written.

Nikki couldn’t help himself as he stared up at the woman he’d slowly begun to—no, it’s too early for that, Sixx. He knew a smile was rising to his face as he looked up at Tommy and Wren. Without a second thought, he grabbed the polaroid camera Wren had asked him to hold for her, pointed the lens at his two closest friends as Tommy put his arm around Wren’s shoulders and pointed out across the grounds. There was something about capturing them in such a pure moment in their friendship that made the smile on Nikki’s face grow only to fall. Seeing them together, forever frozen in that moment as the image began to appear on the photograph before him, Nikki couldn’t help but disdain how Tommy was blessed with the luxury of being able to act however he wants around Wren with no consequences from Doc or Doug. Nikki already wasn’t the biggest fan of having the pair of new managers, and he was convinced that if they knew he was dating Wren, they would treat her less like one of their equals and more like a groupie.

Fuck, he cursed himself as he thought back to how Wren was initially treated when the band was still in its infancy. No one took her seriously, she had to fight her way to the top of waiting lists just to talk to someone to get them booked in a shitty dive bar because they assumed she was just some groupie trying to find out where Motley Crue was playing and not their fucking manager trying to book a show. He didn’t want her to back peddle on the name she’d made for herself as Motley Crue’s manager, but having two other people assigned the same title seemed, at least to Nikki, like a slap in the face to Wren’s success over the past two years.

I’m going to be the reason she doesn’t succeed. The harrowing thought crossed Nikki’s mind without warning as he stared at the photo before him of Wren and Tommy, excitedly gaping about what was both literally and figuratively on the horizon. The single moment he’d captured in time of two friends who meant the world to one another brought up the ugly feelings of jealousy he used to harbor upon realizing he would never have as much history with Wren as Tommy, Mick, or even Vince did. Nikki tried to push those feelings down as he noticed Wren jump down from the stage, rush up to him, pull the camera from his neck and give it to Tommy.

“Let’s get a picture Nikki,” she said once she returned to his side. As he shoved the intrusive thought from his mind, it seemed to manifest in his heart. He slipped and arm around her waist, but the pair didn’t move any closer than where they currently stood, and Nikki knew that if any stranger compared the two photos, they would assume Tommy was the one dating Wren…not him.

As Tommy clicked the button and handed the camera back to Wren, the picture began to print. Before Wren could examine the photo, Nikki had snatched it from where it was printing and had begun to shake it above his head. “You’re going to ruin it,” she huffed as she lowered the camera’s lanyard around her neck and folded her arms over her chest as her eyes narrowed on her boyfriend.

“Shaking it helps the ink dry faster,” Nikki stated so matter-of-factly that had Wren not read the instruction manual of her camera, she would have believed him. She rolled her eyes and huffed at his observation before speaking again.

“Shaking it damages the image, you arrogant know-it-all,” she muttered with a smirk on her lips. Nikki wanted to make her come after him to retrieve the photo, but he knew there were eyes on them: more specifically, the eyes of the two people they hired to be equals with Wren, but whom he believed were trying to become her bosses. Slowly, he extended the photo back to her and felt his heart sink once more that morning as she plucked the picture from his fingers.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Nikki sighed under his breath as Doug approached where the trio stood.

“Getting a lay of the land I see,” he commented to the group without really looking any of them in the eye. This—standing alone in and desolate field merely hours before it would become teeming with life and excitement—was nothing new to Doug. He’d been in bigger places with bigger bands, and he would be lying if he tried to say he could still remember how exhilarating the newness of everything was. To Doc and Doug, the scene was like any relationship—after the honeymoon phase is over, it’s all the same shit. Hell, they’d been in the game so long they hardly even associated with anyone afflicted by the honeymoon phase of stardom anymore. “You guys are on at 5 tonight. Don’t do anything too stupid beforehand and don’t fucking break yourselves! If a bone splits and you can’t play all of us are fucking S.O.L.” Wren furrowed her eyebrows at Doug’s way of warning the guys not to be a couple of dumbasses, but didn’t bother to interrupt. “You’re going on after Quiet Riot and are going to be followed up by Ozzy Osbourne.”

“No fucking way! We’re opening for Ozzy?” Tommy asked as he folded his arms across Wren’s shoulders and leveraged his weight against hers.

“Yeah, and after him is Judas Priest, followed by Triumph, the Scorpions, and then Van Halen,” Doug explained before he lost Tommy’s attention. “The gates open at 3 so sound check is going to be around 11 for you guys.”

“Don’t start getting into costume until around 3:45 or 4. It’s supposed to be hot and all that leather is going to be a pain in the ass for you guys to sit in for longer than necessary,” Wren interjected as Doug continued his spiel.

“Doc is talking with Mick and Vince right now. We’re going to need all four of you in trailer two by 10:30 and then again at 3:30. Do you mind wrangling them up for that, Wren?” Doug asked and turned to the woman who was currently being used by the lanky drummer as something to rest his head on.

“No problem. I can get them started on hair and makeup then,” Wren responded as she watched the corners of Nikki’s mouth tighten as he pulled back his lips and attempted to hold his tongue.

“Thanks. Doc and I will be a little tied up by then. Do they have a set list made up yet?” Doug continued as he paid no attention to the tension building in Nikki’s body.

“Yeah, Nikki wrote one up,” she said as she dug into her back pocket to find the piece of notebook paper he’d slipped into her denim shorts that morning. She blushed at the memory of a rather groggy Nikki, still half asleep, leaving his room just to come into the kitchen where Wren was making herself some Eggo waffles for breakfast. He stood behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and held onto her as if she were the only thing keeping him on his feet. After muttering a few obscenities about how early they all had to get up to drive to San Bernardino, his hands fell on her waist once more as he dragged himself away from being plastered to her back, and slid a piece of paper into her back pocket before giving her ass a nice squeeze.

“Great, I’ll can get this to the sound engineers. Stay with them and make sure they don’t fuck this up,” Doug said with a sly smirk on his face as he turned away from the three founding members of the Crue.

“She’s not a glorified babysitter!” Nikki spat back before Doug was out of earshot.

“Dude!” Tommy hissed under his breath as he back handed Nikki in the chest. “Do you really want to lose the people who got us this far?”

“They didn’t get us this far, Tommy. They got us this gig. Wren got us everything else, we put ourselves on the map, and now they’re swooping in like vultures, trying to take credit for Motley’s success.” Wren could feel the anger pouring from Nikki’s words, and as much as she wanted to help calm him down, she couldn’t believe the reason he was harboring so much resentment towards Doc and Doug.

“Calm down, Nikki. It’s okay,” she tried to say only for Tommy to speak over her.

“Just chill out, dude. They’re not the bad guys here.”

“What? I can’t correct him in his assumption of what her fucking job is?” Nikki scoffed as he took in Tommy’s wary expression and Wren’s confusion.

“Look, if it bothers me enough, I’ll correct them, okay?” Nikki knew she only meant that she could handle herself, but his mind was on edge. He’d felt an immense amount of bitterness, shame, and guilt for a number of different reasons, all of which he did not want to talk about with Wren because…well because he knew he was being erratic and that her decision on the matter was the best decision to make.

“Of course, you can. I almost forgot I’d learned that lesson the hard way.” Nikki couldn’t keep himself from adding that unnecessary comment, but he certainly hoped he’d said it soft enough for neither Tommy or Wren to hear.

“On that note, I’m going to go check on Mick and Vince,” Wren announced as the smile that had occupied her face fell into a scowl at Nikki’s words. Tommy waited until Wren was well out of their range before he punched Nikki in the arm.

“Ow! What the fuck, man?”

“I should ask you the same thing!” Tommy hissed as he pointed in the direction Wren had walked. “What the hell was that?”

“What the hell was what?” Nikki asked as he rubbed off the punch he had received and glared into Tommy’s dark, furiously swirling eyes.

“Are you two fighting?” Nikki could hear the obvious change in Tommy’s voice as the abrasive and accusing tone shifted into that of concern. Taking Nikki’s silence as a confirmation, Tommy continued. “She’s been so happy, recently. When did you start fighting?”

“We’re not fighting,” Nikki said through somewhat gritted teeth.

“Well, that sounds like something a person in a happy relationship would say. You’ve got me convinced,” Tommy sneered as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at Nikki. With his impatience growing, Nikki found a portion of the walls he’s built up around himself begin to crumble—not enough to let someone in, but just enough for a six-foot-four-inch-tall drummer to look over and see what was happening on the inside.

“I didn’t want her to be a groupie.” Nikki sighed in defeat as he balled his right hand into a fist.

“She’s not a groupie,” Tommy quickly denied.

“I know that, and you know that, but Doc and Doug won’t believe it and neither would anyone else we come across who should look at her as the professional she is with this band. They’re just going to see Wren and think, ‘Oh, it’s the girl that fucks around with Motley Crue,’ but she’s so much fucking more than that.”

“She doesn’t fuck around with Motley Crue. She fucks around with you, making her a you-ie, not a groupie.” Tommy tried to chuckle a little to lighten Nikki’s mood, but he didn’t seem to know the best ways to reassure Nikki, at least not in the ways that Wren did.

“I just don’t want to be the reason she isn’t taken seriously. I don’t want to feel like I’m holding her back.” As Nikki vocalized his concerns, Tommy couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry dude, but Wren’s a tornado. Once she’s on a path, there’s not much that can stop her. I mean, I’ve never tried to lasso a tornado, but I would assume it would be easier than holding Wren back from doing what she’s set her mind to. Besides that, Wren is always going to make sure she’s taken seriously, regardless of her connections to anyone. Fuck, I’m her best friend! The most non-serious human being to attend a high school was best friends with the girl who was valedictorian and had her associate’s degree before she got her high school diploma! No one who knows Wren doubts her, and no one who doubts her matters.”

“Then why the fuck do I feel so shitty about what would happen to her if Doc and Doug knew she was with me?”

“Maybe the reason you feel like shit and are concerned about damaging any reputation she has with the new managers is because you love her.” The second that word—the ‘L’ word Nikki hadn’t used to describe anyone other than his grandparents—left Tommy’s mouth, Nikki’s stomach sank and he contemplated throwing up on Tommy’s shoes for suggesting such a thing. Love? No. Love was something people spend their lives looking for and end up settling for something similar—some other type of connection that feels like what they assume love is. Love isn’t something that walks into a men’s room from an alley, mouths off to you, and steals your liquor. Love isn't something that happens to you after getting punched in the face. It doesn't walk up to your booth in a diner dressed in leather. Love doesn't have an intoxicating smile. It isn't when someone gets you riled up for the sake of being able to. It’s not the reason people steal music for someone else, or the catalyst behind one’s anger after someone else is harmed. It’s not the sharing of pain from one soul to another, or the safety of home a person finds in another person. Love doesn't just wander into your life at twenty-three-years-old, burrow inside your chest, and then decides to wake up from its nap two years later. Is it?

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luna-redamancy · 4 years

Text

Obsession pt.2 {Thranduil x F! Reader}

Word Count: 2692

Warnings: Smut

Note: This chapter is 18+, please do not read if you are a minor. This is simply a bonus part to the previous chapter.

Part One

Monthly council meetings were always a bore. Discussing politics to pull a curtain over everyone's eyes about their true intentions. They were there to try and gain Thranduil’s favor, to get him to give them funds for useless ‘projects’ in the woodlands, and to get drunk without paying a bill for their wine consumption.

Thranduil’s thumb drew comforting circles on the back of your hand as you two sat at the head of the table, vexation clear on your features as you squeezed his hand in response, giving him a gentle smile.

“I think we should break for lunch then return to finish the details.” You announced once a representative from the southern section of the kingdom finished his address to the council.

“I agree.” Thranduil nodded, everyone standing up to exit to the dining hall.

“My, King Thranduil…” Merlara, an advisor to the elven kingdoms of the west, called out to Thranduil, a coy smile on her face. “Merlara,” Thranduil nodded his head out of respect to her, your eyes flickering in between them. Tossing her hair to the side, Merlara leaned forward slightly as she began to discuss trade. Rolling your eyes, you swallowed a scoff that threatened to emerge. ‘She’s flirting with him…’ you thought, a frown forming on your features. You and Thranduil hadn’t had time to complete the courting ritual, so to everyone in the room, you were just arm candy. Nothing serious.

“Would I be so bold as to invite you to a night of craft--” You cut her off before she could finish.

“Last time I checked, it was frowned upon to try to come in between a courted couple.” The bite in your tone was unmistakable, purposefully locking an arm around his middle and resting your head on his shoulder. “He’s mine.” Your eyes narrowed with possessiveness as Thranduil quirked a brow, enjoying this side of you.

“Well, as far as I can tell, you two haven’t finished courting so he’s free game.” Merlara bit back, not liking you getting in her way of becoming Queen of Mirkwood.

“As far as I can tell, your blood would look really nice on this stone floor after I trounce your face in.” You growled, moving to stand in front of Thranduil.

Thranduil’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the thought of you so ferociously defending your love for him, tugging you back by the waist to give you a kiss on your neck. “Merlara, if you couldn’t already tell, you will never have my affection as much as my beloved.”

“Damn straight.” You huffed, tilting your head to let him keep kissing your neck.

“I can’t wait to get you in private and ravish you,” Thranduil whispered huskily in your ear as she stalked away, trying to maintain some form of dignity. You felt your stomach clench as your arousal flared, your tongue flicking out to lick your bottom lip. Trying to maintain some ounce of control to not say screw it all and go back to your bedding chambers.

Gulping you pulled away slightly, your movement making you hyper aware of Thranduils… Situation. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you drowned in his smell, his being, before mumbling “I can’t wait until you mark me up to show that even without a moonstone I’m yours. And that you are mine.” You whispered back before pulling away completely, leaving Thranduil to hold in a whine as you sauntered over to the dining table to eat with the visiting council members.

‘Mine’ Kept swirling in Thranduil’s mind, his thoughts always drifting over to your display of protectiveness over him, your eagerness to defend your relationship. His chest fluttered with an unknown feeling, something deeper than love that he hadn’t felt about another before. ‘He’s mine’ He could hear your voice in his head. Thranduil stifled a groan by coughing into his fist, feeling his pants tighten, before he too joined the council members for their meal.

Merlara watched with narrow eyes, a tight smile on her face as she watched Thranduil take a seat next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I can’t believe an elf of such a high standing would sink so low to be with a human,” Merlara gossiped to the ellon next to her, smirking coyly when their laughter filled her ears.

Looking up from your plate, you smiled softly. “I can’t believe such an elleth with a horrid personality would be allowed to join a council.” You responded, keeping your sweet smile, eyes shining with joy as her smirk dropped to a frown again.

The members looked between each other, confusion and nervousness clear on their faces as you interacted with Merlara. “I also can’t believe someone could be so desperate to get to the top they’d try to sleep with any king they could find.” You bit into your cherry tomato, a smile still on your face as you felt Thranduil hold your hand, non-verbally telling you he supported you.

“King Thranduil?!” Merlara gasped out, rising from her seat.

“Yes?”

“How dare you let such scum treat me in such a vile manner, me, a member of your council, one of your longest and closest allies?!”

Rolling your eyes, you kept your seat. “As far as we are aware, you are the true scum here, Merlara. And if you don’t like Thranduil and I courting each other so badly, then you can take your filthy---”

“I think you can all send your final project inquiries and requests through letter, our meeting for today is adjourned.” Thranduil spoke before you could get too riled up, feeling his own trousers now uncomfortably tight from your display.

“King Thranduil?!”

“If you will all forgive me, me and my beloved have urgent matters to attend to.”

And with that, the two of you exited the dining hall, hurrying toward your shared bedding chamber with excitement bubbling in your skin. Thranduil threw open the door, swinging you inside before slamming it shut, the lock clicking in place before he pushed you against the wall. His lips sealed against yours, moving with a fierce passion. Your hands snaked into his hair, tugging at his scalp as your teeth began to clash, tongues snaking together as your pulse began to race beneath your skin.

Thranduil gripped at your butt, his hands kneading the flesh as he groaned into your mouth, the sound going straight to your core as he lifted you to grind his arousal against you. “Thranduil,” You exhaled, tilting your head against the wall as your eyes stared upwards, half lidded with lust. Thranduil began nipping at the skin of your neck, enjoying watching your skin bloom with flowers of red and purple, displaying his claim of you.

“Mine,” He growled in your ear, licking the shell of it before resuming his attention to your neck. Using his hips to keep you up against the wall, Thranduil let his hands wander to your chest. Relishing in the feeling of you beneath his hands, Thranduil’s eyes narrowed at the fabric separating him from feeling the softness of your skin.

Bringing his forehead against yours, Thranduil maintained eye contact as he gripped the fabric and delivered a sharp tug. A ripping sound filled the air as your chest was exposed to the cold air, your nipples stiffening in response as a gasp left your lips. “I liked that dress,” You scolded half-heartedly, a laugh clear in your voice as a grin formed on your face.

“I’ll send a seamstress to make you a thousand more.” Thranduil murmured as he lifted you from against the wall, laying you against the bed before rising to discard the material. “Your dresses are beautiful, but my dear, you are so much more delectable.” Thranduil grinned at you, a grin on his lips as he took in the sight of you displayed before him. Only left in your panties, your chest heaving up and down with excitement.

Thranduil took off his crown, tossing it carelessly to the side as he stripped off his clothing, the fine fabrics being discarded to the floor like garbage. Your eyes were drawn across his figure, your teeth sinking into your lip as you admired his lean form, muscular yet toned and defined. His skin smooth and pale like cream.

Dragging your eyes down his form, you watched as his hands began to remove his trousers and drawers, his length being exposed to your hungry gaze. His cock was well endowed, both thick and long as it sprang up against his stomach. Firm with arousal, precum already dripping from it’s tip.

“I think you are a bit overdressed, my starlight,” Thranduil decided, crawling back on the bed like a tiger stalking its prey.

“Is that so?” You quirked a brow as Thranduil nodded. “Well, maybe you should even the playing field.” You grinned as Thranduil smirked.

“Oh I shall.” Thranduil hummed as he gripped your panties, dragging them down your legs before carefully pushing open your thighs. “My my…” He was almost speechless, your arousal nearly dripping off you as you laid now bare before him.

“A true goddess you are,” He mumbled, sinking to lay on his stomach as he peppered kisses on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat as you felt your skin warm with excitement. The blankets felt heavenly against your skin, almost successfully distracting you until you felt Thranduil’s tongue.

Thranduil flattened his tongue, licking a thick stripe up your slit. “Oh,” You gasped out, not expecting the sensation as he hooked his arms around your thighs. He flicked his eyes up to yours, the obsessed gaze in his eyes causing your cunt to clench around nothing as felt your arousal increase. Thranduil moved one hand away from your thigh, lacing it with yours as he maintained eye contact, his tongue moving to draw circles around your clit before flicking it.

A shuddered breath left your lips, the sound encouraging your beloved as he continued to eat you out with a growing excitement. Light licks turned into sucking, the sensation making you cry our, your hands tangling in his locks as you felt a satisfied smirk against your skin. He wanted to drag every sound he could out of you.

Thranduil relished in your sounds, your taste, the softness of your skin as he buried his face in between your legs, your tugs only encouraging him to bring you closer to the brink. Your sighs turned into elongated moans as he brought his unoccupied hand to your mound. Swirling his finger in your wetness, he carefully pushed a finger inside, enjoying feeling your hips buck in response as he slid another alongside it, thrusting them in and out with a come-hither motion.

The coil inside your gut tightened and twisted, you knew it was getting close to snapping. “T-Thranduil--” You gasped out trying to give some sort of warning. Seemingly understanding your predicament, Thranduil suckled your clit harder, his fingers moving faster, pushing your sweet inner button over and over.

“Come for me, let everyone in this castle know who you belong to..” Thranduil growled before resuming his actions, the coil in your gut tightening until finally you couldn’t hold off any longer, your orgasm crashing through you like waves hitting the rocks of a shoreline. “Thranduil!” You cried out, your grip on his hair tightening as he slowed his ministration, helping you elongate your euphoria until you began pushing his head away, your oversensitivity rising.

You melted against the blankets, your eyes slipping shut as your chest heaved up and down, your heart pounding in your ears as Thranduil crawled up your body, peppering kisses along the way until he reached your lips. “Mine,” He mumbled as he nuzzled you.

“Yours,” You agreed, opening your eyes as a smile formed on your face, “And you’re definitely mine,” You stated, recalling Merlara’s actions from before.

Thranduil felt his cock twitch at your words, he too recalled the interaction you two had before.

“Definitely yours,” He agreed as he sprinkled kisses down your neck again, moving to your chest. Licking and nipping at your breasts, Thranduil settled himself in between your legs, his erection settling against your mound as he worshipped your chest.

Finally he flicked his gaze back to yours, “May I?” He questioned, wanting to ensure you were okay with continuing. Nodding you spread your legs even wider, moaning at the feel of his length brushing over your clit. “Please,” You whined as he began to grind against you. Thranduil granted your wish, sinking inside of you inch by inch, your pussy stretching wide to adjust to his girth, a moan slipping past your lips as he began to thrust wildly, not giving you a moment to adjust to him.

The sounds of skin smacking filled your ears, soon drowned out by the sounds of your moans and groans, Thranduil’s grunts mingling with them. Thranduil’s obsession swirled through his vision, the display of you so wantonly accepting him drove him to something more animalistic, his obsession taking over him. His hands grabbed at your waist while he pulled out of you just enough to flip you onto your stomach and slide back in. Thranduil’s cock sank deeper into you than before, causing you to cry out as he began thrusting deep and fast, his hand grabbing your hair and tugging.

“Say it.” Thranduil demanded.

Confusion covered your face for a brief moment before a small smirk formed on your lips. “Mine.” You spoke, grinning lustfully at the feeling of his cock twitch in response. “You are mine, Thranduil, I won’t let anybody take you away from me.” You declared before your voice dissolved into cries of pleasure as he growled, pounding into you harder than before causing your thighs to shake as you felt another orgasm threatening to roll through you. Sensing this, Thranduil snaked a hand underneath you, rubbing figure-eights around your sensitive nub to push you over the edge. “Thran...Thranduil!” You gasped out as he suckled bruises onto your neck, effectively marking you where the public could see, his fingers moving faster against your swollen clit, determined to make you reach your peak once more before he finished.

His actions worked, your body trembling as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls clenched around his length, a groan passing his lips as your tightness sent him over the edge. A moan passed your lips as you felt him release inside you, your toes curling as he released you, pressing kisses to your shoulder blade.

Thranduil let out a low moan as he pulled out of you, reaching for a cloth to clean you up as you laid on your stomach. Breathing heavily, you sighed in content as you snuggled the pillow. Tossing the soiled cloth to the side, Thranduil carefully watched you, coming off of his crazed high.

“(Name)?” Thranduil spoke soft, not wanting to wake you if you slipped into a slumber. “Hmm?” You hummed back, turning to lay on your side to face him. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” He questioned, worry on his features as you lifted the blankets out from underneath you, slipping into the crisp sheets. He had never gotten so out of control with you before, afraid of your reaction, he waited until you answered him before crawling in next to you.

Laughing, you wiped your hand over your face before looking back at him, “Are you serious?” You questioned, noticing his worried expression. “Deadly.”

Your expression softened at his concern, “Thranduil, you didn’t hurt me.” You confirmed, knowing the lovebites across your skin could possibly indicate otherwise. “In fact, I quite enjoyed our… fornication,” You grinned as he slowly accepted your answer, a smile of his own forming as he crawled in bed next to you.

His arms slipped around your waist, tugging you to his chest, his hand cradling your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” You mumbled, sleepiness filling your voice as you snuggled closer to him.

“And I love you, my starlight.” Thranduil muttered, watching as you drifted to sleep.

Tags-

Forever Tag:

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@indelwen-of-mirkwood @sapphireduck @ashleygrrrl @katiegoddessofmischief @tigereyesf

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter VIII

Prompto placed one of his hands on the back of her neck, holding her in place as he basked in the softness of her lips. When she didn't push him away, he deepened the kiss. However, he snapped out of his blissful revere a few seconds later and immediately pulled away. He stumbled backwards, realizing he'd push himself on to her. "I-I-I..." Prompto tripped over his own feet and landed on his butt. He sat up, running his hands frantically through his blonde locks. "Six, why did I do that?! I-I'm so sorry, (Y/n)!"

The girl stood up and approached him. She squatted down in front of him, smiling. "Calm down. There's no need to apologize, Prom." She took his hands out of his hair and held them gently with hers. "I do want to know... What did that kiss mean?"

"W-Well..." Prompto casted his gaze to the ground, unable to look her in the eye. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down so he could say those three important words. He grasped her hands, exhaling with a shaky sigh. "For a long time, I've...I've really liked you. More than a friend. You've been there for me through thick and thin. You never gave up on me and you're still by side even now. I mean, I have Noct and the others, but they aren't you. I know I haven't been the easiest person to live with all these years, but I-I'm glad you've decided to stick around. I haven't had the easiest life, but you made every moment worth while. You're irreplaceable to me. I...I love you, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) clung to every word, taking each one to heart. She remembered every memory she's made with Prompto, cherishing them all. She may have been bound to him because of her status as his guardian, but those memories were made because she cares deeply about him and was infatuated with him. Even if she wasn't his guardian, she would still dedicate herself to him because of how much she cares for him. He too was irreplaceable.

The girl smiled warmly at Prompto. "You've made my life worth while, as well. I cherish every second we've been together and wouldn't trade them for the world. For the longest time, I convinced myself that you were a human and someone who deserved better than me. But still, I found myself falling for you as the days passed. I'm so happy you feel the same way. I love you too, Prompto."

Tears of joy sprang from Prompto's eyes. He grabbed (Y/n)'s hands and tugged her towards him. She lost her balance and fell against him just as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He embraced her tightly, burying his face into the crook of her neck and thanking her for loving him over and over again. She placed her hands on his back, trailing her fingers up and down his spine.

(Y/n) pulled away just enough to move her hands from Prompto's back to his cheeks. Sitting on her knees between his legs, she cupped his cheeks in her palms and used her thumbs to wipe away his tears. Smiling, she leans forward and presses her forehead against his. Her golden eyes darted down to his lips for a split second before locking with his cerulean ones. She didn't hesitate to lean in closer and press her lips against his, kissing him sweetly.

It was a brief yet intoxicating kiss. (Y/n) pulled away a few seconds later after noticing the many questionable stares they were receiving from bystanders. She got to her feet, offering to help Prompto off the ground. When he placed his hands in hers, she pulled him to his feet with a smile. "As much as I would love to continue this, we have to meet up with the others. Ready to go?"

Prompto nodded, smiling. "Yeah."

The duo walked down the road a little ways away from the Cauthess Rest Area. (Y/n) transformed and Prompto climbed onto her back. He pulled out his phone and checked Ignis' directions, sharing them with the guardian. Knowing they had just ate, the fox gently trotted in the direction of Aracheole Stronghold. She refused to use the roads in order to prevent another ambush like yesterday. They ran into many packs of voretooths and sabertusks while traveling through nature, but they fled at the sight of the spirit.

Once arriving at Sothmocke Haven, Prompto sighed in relief when seeing the others were safe. He slid off (Y/n)'s back and ran towards his friends. The fox reverted back to her human form, joining the blonde.

"So, what'd we miss?" Prompto asked.

"Besides a talking daemon and other two runestones, nothing much," Noctis shrugged his shoulders. "What about you guys?" He glanced between his best friend and guardian.

"We kicked some imperial ass! Well, only some. There were way too many to handle by ourselves." Prompto slung an arm over the girl's shoulders and pulled her into his side. "(Y/n)'s the reason why we were able to escape without so much as a scratch."

"What took you both so long to get here, then?" Gladio inquired.

"We were hiding from the empire and Prompto's phone was water-logged from the storm," (Y/n) answered. "We didn't see the messages until a couple hours ago."

"We are simply relieved you both are unscathed," Ignis said.

"The same goes for the rest of you. We were worried there for a little bit." The (h/c)-haired girl, once Prompto released her, turned around to face the stronghold. "So, what's the plan?"

"We were just about to discuss such matters."

Noctis, who was sitting in one of the chairs beside Gladio, looks up at his advisor. "So, any bright ideas, Ignis?"

"A dark one, as it were," Ignis stated. "A frontal assault would leave us exposed. But, if we move under cover of night, we might be able to infiltrate the base unnoticed."

"And until then?"

"We learn all we can about the base's design and narrow down the Regalia's location. I'll analyze what intelligence we have available to find us a way in."

Noctis nodded. "Sounds good, Specs."

"All right! We're gonna get our wheels back!" Prompto cheered as he sat down in the chair beside Noctis. "Guess we gotta wait for night fall now." He pulled out his phone and booted up the King's Knight app. While waiting for it to load, his eyes drifted upward. They locked on to (Y/n)'s back and watched her every moment as she offered to help Ignis.

Noctis caught the blonde staring at the girl with a joyous smile etched across his face. "Did...something happen between you two?"

When Prompto realized he was talking to him, he did his best to look everywhere but at (Y/n). "Why would you think that?"

"Besides the fact you're staring at her, no idea."

The sharpshooter lowered his phone, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from his best friend. "I...may have told her how I feel."

Gladio, who'd been eavesdropping, spoke up. "Guessing by the look on your face, it went well."

Prompto sighed dreamily. "It went better than well. It went perfect."

"Who knew you had it in you, string bean."

The younger boy rolled his eyes with a groan at the ridiculous nickname. He looked back down at his phone and saw the game finished loading. He focused his eyes on the screen, but his mind was reminiscing in the kisses he shared with (Y/n) only a couple hours ago. His cheeks were dusted with a light tinge of pink as he played King's Knight until it was time for them to infiltrate the stronghold.

The group left Sothmocke Haven and made their way towards one of cargo entrances located on the side of Aracheole Stronghold. They snuck through rows of storage containers until arriving just outside the cargo entrance. Two soldiers were patrolling the road and inspecting the outgoing cargo. While hiding behind two storage containers, Ignis instructed Noctis when to kill the soldiers. Warp-striking each one, he killed the enemies without alerting the stronghold.

With the way clear, they walk through the cargo entrance. They quickly duck behind stacks of boxes and storage containers when spotting the search lights located on the ramparts. They ducked their heads lower as a MA-X Maniple marched directly towards them with its headlight pointed directly at the cargo they were concealing themselves with. Holding their breaths, they patiently waited for the mech to pass by their hiding spot. It turned to their right, strolling away.

"It's gone," Noctis sighed, relieved it didn't spot them.

"Magitek armor," Ignis whispered.

"Don't wanna mess with one of those," Gladio commented.

"We shouldn't have to if we keep to the shadows." Ignis led the group through the rows of cargo in the direction the mech walked in. Three more soldiers sauntered by, which didn't go unnoticed by the group. Noctis times their movements before warp-striking and killing them one by one.

Now the way was clear. They made their way over to a gate located beside a deactivated MA-X Maniple. Noctis deactivated the barrier keeping them from going any further. While the boys continued forward and ran into another group of soldiers, (Y/n) climbed up a stack of storage containers and stalked the enemies' movements from above. She watched Noctis closely as he managed to take down four of the six soldiers patrolling the area.

The girl snuck across the top of the metal storage containers until she reached the second gate. She glanced over the top and spotted the Regalia not too far away. Her attention was redirected back to the prince when he alerted the last soldier by killing the other one. Before the adversary could raise his gun and shoot Noctis, she manifested a dagger made of pure flames and leapt down on top of the soldier. She jammed the fiery blade into his back, killing him instantly. The dagger vaporized as she stepped away from the soldier's corpse.

Noctis glanced behind him before looking back at her. "Where did you...?"

"Nice save," Gladio complimented, the raven-haired boy's question going unanswered.

"Aw, yeah! That's my girl!" Prompto chanted.

"Well done, (Y/n)," Ignis said.

"The Regalia is just through this gate," she said before turning to the panel and deactivating the translucent barrier. They walk into the next area and immediately spot the car they'd been searching for. However, they were spotted by a MA-X Maniple. As the mech rose to its feet and set its sight on the group, soldiers and magiteks encroached on their position. All the search lights were aimed at them, revealing them in the darkness.

(Y/n) transformed and leapt onto the mech while the boys dealt with the soldiers and MTs. She latched on to one of the missile cannons attached to its shoulders. She growled menacingly as her fangs sunk deeper into the machine's metal exterior. Shaking her head, she managed to tear the missile cannon from the MA-X Maniple and toss it aside. She jumped off its body, using her weight to knock it down to a single knee.

Prompto and Ignis dealt heavy damage to the mech after seeing it had collapsed. Noctis and Gladio kept their attention on the soldiers and MTs trying to surround them. Vaulting a safe distance away from the battle, the fox spirit concentrated her energy into her tails and paws. They ignited with bright flames and she rejoined the fray. She charged through a horde of soldiers and MTs, using her blazing paws and tails to swipe and them left and right.

Noctis saw the others were handling the enemies and decided to take it upon himself to warp up to the watchtower. Using the turret located at the top, he targeted the energy tanks. Explosions shook the ground as the tanks blew up one by one, taking enemies with them. When all the tanks, the MA-X Maniple, soldiers, and magiteks were annihilated, Noctis returned to his friends. Discussing their next target, they headed towards the magitek generator located in the rear of the stronghold.

The sun was beginning to rise. (Y/n), still in her spiritual form, split off from the boys to deal with the overwhelming amount of enemies swarming from all directions. She dealt with them while the others headed straight for the generator. She fought against more soldiers, MTs, and MA Veles-Bises, keeping them at bay for a short time before destroying them. She went to rendezvous with the others when her attention was drawn to the magitek generator. It had been destroyed and weakened the entire garrison.

Running as fast as she could, (Y/n) searched for the boys just as Noctis summoned the mighty Fulgurian, Ramuh. She stopped in her tracks, her slitted eyes traveling up to the sky when seeing the Astral appear. She watched in silence and awe as the god used his power to annihilate the remaining enemies in Aracheole Stronghold. Before Ramuh vanished, she could've sworn he glanced at her.

When the god was gone, (Y/n)'s ears perked up when she sensed a strange presence in the distance. Her golden eyes scanned her surroundings when the presence was slowly moving toward the direction of the Regalia. Instead of pursing the person, she used her connection to the gemstone on Prompto's bracelet to find the boys' current location. What caused her fur to stand on end was both their presence and the stranger's were closing in on each other. She couldn't understand why she could sense the stranger's aura without needing a connection. Pushing the thought aside, she made her way back to the Regalia.

The moment the guardian caught a glimpse of the car in the distance, she saw Noctis, Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis were being approached by a man with a sword drawn she'd never seen before. With her sensitive hearing, she listened in on their conversation while keeping her distance.

"Long has it been, Noctis," Ravus, the man who she detected earlier, hissed.

"Ravus," Noctis growled.

"You receive the Storm's blessing. And yet, you know nothing of the consequences." Ravus raises his sword and points the sharp tip at Noctis's throat.

Gladio was enraged at the sight. "Watch it." He moves to get between them, causing Ravus to reposition the blade with its edge now along Gladio's throat.

Ignis starts to move toward Ravus, but the other man raises his left hand. "Be still. All of you," the man warned.

"Not good..." Prompto muttered.

"Heir to a crown befitting no other. Witness his splendor and glory. All hail the Chosen King."

Noctis, although being threatened by Ravus, stood his ground and snapped back. "Awful high and mighty for an imperial rat, serving the enemy to hunt down Luna!"

Ravus suddenly grabs Noctis' throat with his left hand. "I do not serve. I command!" He shoves the boy backward and Gladio gets between them. The high commander glared at the brute. "The king's sworn shield."

"You better believe it," Gladio snarled.

"A weak shield protects naught." Ravus slowly raises his sword above his head, then brings it down fiercely. Gladio briefly blocks it with his own sword before Ravus parries the weapon away and slams the pommel of his sword into the shield's chest, sending him flying into the side of the Regalia. Prompto runs to check on Gladio while Noctis gets between them and Ravus.

"Wanna go? Let's do it," Noctis remarked in a low, threatening tone. He summons the royal arms and they begin spinning around him.

"Should the Chosen fail, that too is fate." Ravus raises his sword again and went to strike the prince. Before he could bring it down, his blade was deflected by another. He stumbled backwards and casted his glare towards the person who parried his attack, ready to swing his sword a second time.

(Y/n)'s slitted eyes narrowed at Ravus' movements. Raising the cosmic blade gifted to her by Brahma, she ducked under his sword and slammed the pommel into his gut. The high commander collapsed to a single knee. The oxygen was knocked from his lungs and his grip on his sword slipped, resulting in him to drop it. It clattered against the ground. She kicked it out of his reach, pointing the tip of her sword at his throat. She stared down into his heterochromia eyes with a stoic expression. "How does it feel to taste your own medicine?"

Ravus went to snap back, but his eyes fell on the blade she wielded. His eyes narrowed, gritting his teeth. "The Creator's Blade..." He then took note of the gemstone embedded in her upper right arm and her slitted eyes. "You are-!"

"I'd say that's far enough," a voice spoke up. Everyone turned their attention to the owner of the voice and saw Ardyn sauntering towards them. Beside him was Callyx. The auburn-haired man smiled at Noctis. "A hand, Highness?"

"Not from you," Noctis scoffed.

"Oh, but I'm here to help," he innocently replied.

Ignis was suspicious of the chancellor's and Callyx's sudden appearance. "And how is that?"

"By taking the army away."

Gladio glowered at him. "You expect us to believe that?"

"When next we meet, it'll be across the sea. Just so happens we have business of our own with the tutelary deity. Don't we?" Ardyn then took a few steps toward (Y/n), who was still pointing her blade at Ravus' throat. He took off his hat and bowed. "Please do forgive my acquaintance, my dear. He has quite the temper."

The guardian stepped away from Ravus, withdrawing her blade. She noticed Ardyn and Callyx were staring at the cosmic weapon. The chancellor's face remained stoic while the emerald-eyed spirit gaped in shock. He went to step forward, but Ardyn stopped him.

"Ardyn, but she's..." Callyx began.

"We are leaving," the chancellor interrupted the guardian. He then helped Ravus up and said his goodbyes. "Fare thee well, Your Majesty, and safe travels." Ravus, Callyx, and Ardyn walk away.

"You guys know that guy?" Prompto asked.

"Ravus Nox Fleuret, first son of Tenebrae...and elder brother to Lady Lunafreya," Ignis explained.

(Y/n) dispelled the sword with a heavy sigh. "What a weird trio..."

"I'll say," Noctis said.

"They were really into your sword, (Y/n)," Prompto commented. "Where did you get it?"

"That's...a story for another day," she forced a smile.

Gladio rubbed the spot where Ravus hit him with his sword. "I don't care where the damn thing came from. Nice moves back there, by the way."

"Consider it payback for what he did to you and Noctis." She combed a hand through her (h/c) locks. "Now then, let's get out of here."

"Yes, please!" Prompto chanted.

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