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e1dritchjackal0pe · 4 months

Text

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔮𝔲𝔢 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰

Summary: Your relationship with Farleigh Start has always precariously walked the line between friends and enemies for years.

But maybe there's something else there, too.

Warnings: 18+ content; MDI. AFAB, Oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex (this is fiction, please use protection in rl), hints at s and d dynamics; brief, barely there choking, outdoor/technically public sex. Sex while under the influence ( takes place during Oliver's party, so drugs for Farleigh and alcohol for the reader). Farleigh being an a*s, but what's new. Reader is American. Heavy denial of feelings in the beginning.

Notes: 14.6 k words. There is an abhorrent lack of Farleigh content on this site, so I thought I'd contribute. Not proofread, divider by @saradika-graphics

𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎𝖎 - 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦𝔦

Honestly, it's a wonder how you always manage to forget the sheer opulence of the Saltburn Estate - even when it wasn't in the throes of a celebration that costs more than your yearly salary. It's like some sort of dream almost. While you're in it the details are all startingly intense. Overbearingly so. Flaunting in front of you with all of its details and sights; like a kaleidoscope. The memories never do the estate any true justice. The soft, rolling lush fields; the crystal blue skies that loom over the tall gray spires. It's all painted behind your eyelids with a haunting clarity. But as soon as you leave - as soon as you wake up - the entire experience never truly feels real. Bits and pieces slip through your fingers. It loses its tangibility somehow and you can't help but wonder if you had imaged the whole thing, even with Felix's number programed into your phone; a physical reminder that Saltburn is indeed a real, tactile place.

But even here tonight, while walking the halls and strolling through the courtyard, it doesn't feel like reality. It seems as though you've stepped into a fever dream, crossed some imaginary threshold and entered some mirroring realm. The air is charged. Electrifying. And you swear you could feel the magnetic net of adrenaline and excitement prickling at your fingertips. A cocktail of emotions amplified by alcohol and drugs and endorphins.

Everywhere you looked there were jovial, writhing bodies. People dancing and laughing. Some full on making out - and others dangerously close to toeing the line of having public sex - and others were having a less enjoyable time by collapsing in exhaustion or blacking out in an inebriated haze. One unfortunate soul had thrown up all over the floor boards of the foyer, and you had just narrowly missed being sprayed by the projectile vomit as you had passed. It was like the Exorcist.

Thank God it hadn't been on one of the Persian rugs.

It was someone's birthday, it seemed. A little impromptu. Not initially planned. Oliver's - at least that's what you believed it was. The same Oliver that Felix had mentioned during one of your phone calls. He had spoken of him fondly, but when Felix had rushed outside this evening to greet you from your taxi and help you gather up your bags, he had seemed less interested and even a little irritated in the mention of his newest companion - or as harsh as it sounds, charity case (he seems to have a new one each summer). And he had been quick to divert your line of questioning, stopping you with a somewhat curt, "he's just a friend from Oxford. That's all." And that was that. You knew not to press him over it.

But your time with Felix was cut short when he was pulled aside by an excited Elspeth, who had spared you a quick glance and a "hello, darling," before eagerly trying to get his advice on the party preparations. Which he didn't seem particularly enthused about being dragged into. And it left you to stand awkwardly on your on in the middle of the foyer, trying to force your bleary eyes open. Jet lagged with your will to live paper thin from only having a rough five hours of sleep to back it up. And for a moment you had feared that you might actually pass out on your feet but luckily Venetia had sought you out and saved you from feeling too awkward amongst the others. Occupying the time by gossiping and interrogating you about your time back in the States. All of which, you had confessed have been rather boring. Filled with exams and dead-end dates and careless flings. And even though the initial arrival always leaves you feeling like a fish out of water, you were thankful to have been invited back over to Saltburn. The sprawling, golden fields and fresh crisp air always a welcome reprieve from the loud, chaotic clamoring and the smog blanketed horizon of Los Angeles.

Even though the wild, scattered throng of sweating bodies that were bumping into you honestly weren't all that different from the clubs you frequent back home. Of course, the sheer show of wealth and splendor that had been rolled out for Oliver was nothing that you had ever seen before with the only thing to rival it (and surpass it, probably) being Felix's very own birthday party that you had been able to take part of a few years back. One that had been themed after a strange but no less entertaining amalgamation of cowboys, space and disco, and the costumes and decorations then had left you in a state of awe, much like tonight.

Everywhere you looked there was something else to gawk at. Glittering lights, a hired contortionist and at one point you had even seen a swan rush past you out on the courtyard - which you had only felt sad and a little angry for.

It was pure, unbridled pandemonium. Noisy and cloying with the scent of perfumes and marijuana and alcohol; and you couldn't escape it. Not even when you had gone outside to take advantage of the dark, balmy summer breeze to cleanse your lungs. And everything had been going well until a drunk man had lunged out of the crowd towards you. Wobbling on his feet with a loud wail akin to a war cry as he aimed a narrow tube directly at you. And you only had a fleeting second to wish that it was one of those party canisters full of tensile when he had set it off with a loud pop! And a large, shimmering cloud of glitter had burst over you like a mist, layering across your hair, and costume and skin like a sheen of sweat. You didn't even have time to yell at him before he was scurrying off into the crowd with a demented cackle, probably on his way to find some other unfortunate person to glitter bomb.

And even worse a quick glance downward had revealed that the drink in your champagne glass had been tainted by a thin coat of sparkling silver. Even if you wanted to be lazy and drink around the floaters, the amount drifting around in the champagne was too much. You probably would have ended up choking on all of it. It was with a defeated sigh that you tossed out the remainder of your drink onto the trampled lawn.

For the first time tonight you're actually thankful that Venetia had chosen to leave you for some tall, dark, and handsome stranger that she had met near the beginning of the party. You hadn't seen her since, but maybe it's a blessing in disguise. You would hate for her to see the state of her dress. It is just glitter, easy to wash off in the grand scheme of things, and too be fair she had said that she didn't even like the garment. It was just some random piece from another one of the Catton's wild parties - themed after Renaissance art and fables, you think. And she had sifted it out from the depths of her closet with little fanfare. "It's just some old thing, " she had told you plainly, even though the dress probably cost more than your monthly rent. Clearly, she wouldn't be distressed over some glitter, but you were still having a hard time fighting the sinking feeling in your gut. It was borrowed. She was letting you wear it. And now it was covered in a dust of silver because some guy decided to be a dick.

It could be worse though. It could have been a glass full of wine that he had dunked on you instead. You suppose you should take your wins where you could get them.

A part of you thinks about returning inside the manor and calling it a night. Taking a much-needed bath to clean off the layer of glitter from your skin and just going to bed. But really, you aren't sure if you'll even be able to manage falling asleep with the sheer volume of the music playing throughout various sections of the house, and the sound of the raucous cheering and laughter. And you could imagine what Venetia or Felix would tell you, to quit being so reclusive and to get out and socialize.

You did fly all the way over here. Planned this trip for a few weeks and made preparations with your job and roommate when Felix had called to invite you over for the summer. It would be a complete waste to turn in for the night and huddle yourself up in your quarters.

And with the fog of alcohol draping over your body you know you should probably put a pause on it for a bit but fuck it, it's a party and you need another drink.

You glance around the courtyard, hoping to spy one of that servants that have been forced to parade platers of alcohol around for the many guests but all you see are the scattered throngs of people dressed in fairy wings, strange animal masks, and plastic swords. Honestly, it never amazes you how many people get invited to these events. Even with all of the family members combined, there's no way they all know every individual here directly. There's probably enough to fill a damn stadium.

In your search your gaze sweeps over the steady bonfires, the temporary lovers grinding against each other and a pair talking amongst themselves - wait. That catches your attention. You feel heat prickling at your chest; irritation rising in some subconscious sort of reaction and as if they have a mind of their own your eyes skitter back over to them to confirm if what you thought you saw was true. And lo and behold, there he is. The bane of your existence. Farleigh Start.

Your eyes flicker across him from his head to his old-fashioned boots. He's holding some sort of mask in one of his hands. A big bulky thing with long protruding ears and an equine shaped face and you have to squint to come to the concussion that it appears to be a donkey.

He seems to be talking to someone. A person that you don't recognize but they both seemed to be engaged in some sort of heated stare off from near a rotating pig on a stick. It looks like he's found another unfortunate victim to prod at and humiliate. Not that it was difficult for Farleigh. He was always eager to find someone to harass and belittle. And the more that someone fought back, the more interested he seems to become. He's been a personal thorn in your side for longer than you'd like to admit.

Of course, you knew he would be here, but that didn't necessarily mean that actually seeing him made it any easier. It had to have close to a year since you've last interacted with him, which had to have been during that awful Christmas party back in the States. Why Graham had invited both of you when he knew that neither of you get along is a mystery. It could have been some lame attempt to get two of his closest friends to finally clear up whatever animosity was between them, but in all actuality it had just made worse. All of the passive aggressive barbs and thinly veiled sneers had nearly reached a boiling point that night when Farleigh wouldn't just leave you alone. Seeming to make it his mission to antagonize you at every turn with childish insults. But as childish as they might have been, they added up over time until you were giving him what he wanted, lashing out in response to his nasty little comments.

And to think at one point you had actually been excited to meet him. As Graham's close friend and roommate, you were interested in getting to know the guy that he couldn't stop gushing about. The one who he had praised nearly nonstop. Farleigh had been nice enough in the beginning. And you even enjoyed his company for a time. His humor had always been a bit snarky, and the jokes he told were usually at another's expense. But he had been - as much as you hate to admit it, fun. And at one point, you had even considered him a friend of sorts. Or at the very least an acquaintance whose company you enjoyed while you both rambled on about nothing and everything, often gossiping about others.

It had all been fine between you. That was until Felix had come down to L.A. to visit. He had gone out with Farleigh and Graham to go and sightseeing, which eventually steered into hopping from club to club as the day wanned into night. And when the invitation had extended to you, your relationship with Farleigh had taken a turn. For whatever reason talking to Felix was easy. But that was just Felix you suppose; always able to make friends with just about anyone in the room. And the closer that the two of you had become, the more strained your association with Farleigh had grown until it was filled with nothing but sardonic remarks and passive hostility. And instead of being a sort of surface level confidant, he gradually became a presence that you detested. And your relationship had gone from a mutual respect and cordial conversations to some sort of strange cat and mouse game. The both of you exchanging snarky jabs in an attempt to see if the other would crack.

You would be lying if you didn't admit that some part of you enjoyed your little spats. And maybe you had hoped that he would be here tonight. Not that you'd ever tell him that. You'd rather trip onto the sharp end of a knife.

Suddenly Farleigh is stepping towards the stranger, shoulders rigid and body pulled taught, seeping with irritation. And he takes ahold of their face, forcing the shorter man to look into his eyes in some sort of intimidation tactic. Farleigh's nearly seething. And his expression is firm with an apparent frustration. You don't think you've seen him so visibly aggravated before. You can't help but wonder what the mystery guy may have done to warrant such a response from him.

And then Farleigh is pulling away, releasing the stranger from his grip with a smug smile. But on him it looks more like a sneer with the way his lips are stretched and showing off his teeth. He's moving towards your direction now, probably intending to head back to the house, and he's yet to notice you. You contemplate leaving. Of slipping back under the cover of the scattered crowd and disappearing before he sees you, but your body doesn't move. Instead, you're stock still. There's some awful feeling in your gut that seems horrendously akin to anticipation; fluttering and soft and nauseating.

You should just leave. You could leave if you'd just move. But it's too late. You swear there's some awful full body reaction that occurs when Farleigh's gaze meets yours and he stops in place to assess you. For a moment it's like you've been sucked into a black hole. It's like time has dilated and shrunk down around you until it's frozen solid and suddenly the lively chaos around you falls quiet, muffling down into an insignificant hum in the background. Recognition flickers in his eyes and something else crosses his face too. Something that you don't quite recognize but regardless, it feels as though the both of you are engaged in some sort of wordless exchange. There's another smile growing on his face. It's mischievous but still much more relaxed and familiar than the previous one that he had worn, and you can't help but return one of your own.

It's then that you're finally able to gain control of your own body, walking backward a few steps before you twist around to slip amongst a gaggle of passing girls with something that is suspiciously close to excitement bubbling in your gut. You briefly use them as cover to get you closer to the house entrance, and they're all too occupied with giggling and gossiping to notice your presence. But you're able to remove yourself from the cluster when one of them drunkenly trips on her skirt, and she saves herself by latching onto the shoulder of one of her friends with a wild laugh. The others all gather around her to jokingly reprimand her as they assist her in righting herself but you're already stepping through the back threshold of the manor, and you're thrown headfirst into the alcohol infused, neon casted mayhem. Party streamers, glow sticks and blaring upbeat music. It's complete madness. You can hardly hear yourself think and trying to work yourself through the tight gaps between people's swaying bodies proves to be a challenge of its own and it's a heavy reminder as to why you had even gone outside in the first place.

The atmosphere is cloying and thick; you feel as though you might actually be able to choke on it like it's a physical thing. As otherworldly and exciting as this party is, it's another experience entirely when you're being elbowed in the ribs by an oblivious drunk girl who isn't aware of her windmilling arms and all the intoxicated men who think that you're trying to feel them up and flirt with them when in reality you're just trying to get by. And for a split second you feel as though you may never make it out of the tumultuous sea of bodies. That you'll be cursed to wander around aimlessly in the wild, dancing masses for eternity. Subjected to the ear shattering music and scent of spilt wine and bourbon and sweat.

But then you hear something that sounds suspiciously like your name. It's distant and damp as though your ears are plugged and for a second you had thought that you imagined it before you hear it again. This time louder and there's no mistake that someone is calling you. It has you pausing for a moment to analyze your surroundings and then you catch sight of someone familiar at the far end of the room and for a moment you think that your eyes might be lying to you with the aid of the dim lighting. The deep, saturated, shifting hues of purple and blue and red tinting the chaotic space doing very little to aid you. But someone is waving their arm up the air for you to spot them better and a long glance confirms that you were right in your assumption. The relief that sweeps across your bones is insurmountable and the glimpse of a hand raised up in the air to beckon over you is even more incentive to press forward. And you have to shoulder past people until you enter a small break in the crowd.

"There you are!" Venetia shouts triumphantly, swaying to the rhythm of the song playing at full blast. "I've been looking all over for you!"

You don't bother refuting her. Of countering that she was the one who had wondered off without any plans to meet up afterwards. Instead, you just move up closer to her, doing your best to match her movements and energy but you're entirely too self-conscious to actually meet her. And you feel the fleeting sense of relief that she has yet to notice all of the glitter covering her dress or doesn't care.

"I had to go outside and get some fresh air, " you confess and even underneath the low lighting you can see the way that she nearly rolls her eyes at you, but even then, there's a well-meaning smile on her face.

"You're at a once in a lifetime party, and you were spending it outside?"

"Just for a minute." But she looks completely unamused by your apparently flimsy defense and suddenly she's grabbing you by the shoulders and leaning towards you like it might seal in her words better.

"Well, you're supposed to be inside. Dancing and partying and getting drunk." She squeezes her hands against your skin. "Seriously, it's like you're allergic to fun."

Okay, a little bit rude. And you try to remind yourself that she's just saying it because she's probably drunk. For the most part, all of the younger Catton's (Farleigh included) have a tendency to be social butterflies and party animals. It was something that you had struggled to keep up with when you had officially become friends with Felix. Luckily, he was typically the most understanding out of all of them, and he was aware enough to take notice when you were burning out. It was something that you had thought that Venetia had come to terms with as well, but every now and again she always makes sure to voice her objections.

And you open your mouth to protest but you hardly get anything out. "That's not tru-"

"And as your friend it's my duty to ensure that you do exactly all of the above!" She pulls away with a smirk that is entirely all too satisfied, and it immediately has the alarm bells inside your head blaring. "And maybe even a bit more."

You don't like that last bit.

"There's someone who I think you'd love to meet!" And you swear you can feel your stomach drop at those words but exasperation bleeds through the discomfort until you're holding back an irritated sigh as she practically gushes some stranger's name. "Reuben!"

And at the call of his name, the guy seems to appear from the darkness and shifting bodies like some sort of spirit. It takes you completely off guard how closely and quickly he moves, and you have to physically keep yourself from flinching back. The entire situation is jarring, and you feel like an insect pinned to a corkboard with how both Venetia and this stranger - Reuben are watching you expectantly. And it takes everything to muster up a smile that you know must look strained and unnatural. "Hi," you greet lamely, but he doesn't seem to be the least bit deterred or put off.

And he is cute, you'll admit. Kind, joyful eyes that you think are hazel but it's honestly impossible to tell in this lighting and there's a dusting of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. He seems inviting enough if first impressions are anything to go by, but for whatever reason you don't find yourself gravitating towards him or longing for any sort of conversation with him.

"It's nice to meet you!" He returns, loudly projecting to be heard over the stereo system. "Venetia's told me a bit about you."

"Uh-huh, " you nod for him to continue or maybe divulge, but he doesn't. He just stands there silently without removing his gaze and you can't tell if it's because he's just oblivious or if maybe he's just socially awkward, but it has you shuffling on your feet all the same, desperate to move or do anything to make this less weird. And you glance over at Venetia who still has that hopeful expression on her face, doing your best to telegraph your discomfort without tipping Reuben off. And she does seem to notice but she doesn't tell him to leave or direct him somewhere else like you had wanted.

"Reuben said that he's been to America before," she reveals. Apparently trying to salvage this little interaction and cultivate it into something more.

"Oh, really?" You perk up a bit, or at least try to. "Where did you visit?"

"Uh, New York. City, " he clarifies at the end before his demeanor shifts into something a bit sheepish and playful and the gold plastic crown perched atop his head glints in the lights. "It was a bit of a bore, I won't lie. But that was probably because I was there on a business trip and not on holiday, so feel free to put the blame on me."

His attempt at joking does thaw at some of the unpleasant tension that had burdened the air, but even with the initial ice broken there's still just a simple, straightforward uninterest underneath it all. You aren't stupid. It's obvious why Venetia had pressed to introduce him to you, it's obvious why he had agreed. And you don't fault him for trying to get lucky at what might just be the party of the decade (for you at least) but keeping him here and stringing him along is a complete waste of everyone's time. You aren't going to sleep with him. Not tonight or any other night. And then you go to tell him as much, parting your lips to just get to the point and lay all of your cards out on the table but then Venetia is tapping on your shoulder, making you pause to look over at her.

She has this strange, delighted smile on her lips that's even worse than the one she was wearing when she had invited Reuben over. She nods her chin over to your right, watching eyes trained on something or someone. "Your shadow's here."

You nearly break your neck to follow her line of sight and your heart skips a beat when you see Farleigh standing several feet away from a gap in the crowd and you have to wonder just how long he's been standing there for. And you don't know why you suddenly feel as though you've been caught doing something wrong. Why your body flushes and prickles with shame and you feel like cringing. Maybe it's because of the way that he's looking at you. How his eyes dart from you to Reuben like he's assessing something. Most of the emotions flickering across his face are unreadable. But for second you think that you catch glimpses or what might be anger or irritation and worst of all betrayal before it leans into something neutral and flat. And then just as you had, he's turning on his heels and vanishing. But unlike you, he doesn't smile as he leaves. He doesn't walk away with a silent invitation to follow.

And then Venetia is turning to Reuben with a sweet smile and tilting her head. "Alright, you can go now."

He looks just as confused as you do, and he turns to look at you like he's expecting you to jump in to defend him or at the very least offer an explanation, but you don't have one to give. You're just as lost as he is and when you don't speak and tell him to stay, he backs away, spreading his arms out in a sort of silent 'what the fuck?' gesture and vanishes back into the throng of bodies.

"What . . . was that?" You ask, tense with a mutated type of bewilderment and anger.

"I just wanted to see it." She says cryptically and irritatingly, begins to dance in place before finally disclosing on that little comment. "The look on his face."

"What?" You snap.

"Please, the way you two dance around each other is getting dreadfully old. It's boring and tired. I just did something to get the ball rolling."

This in particular isn't new by any means. You had heard it all before from the two Catton siblings. Their vehement insistence that you and Farleigh had some unspoken attraction for the other that you both refused to act or speak on. It had nearly become a joke for the both of them. To prod and poke at you and Farleigh with to their hearts content. It was something that the both of you had learned to accept over time - somewhat - and ignore. But this. This new and entirely strange.

"So, what? You were trying to make him jealous?" Your forehead crinkles as you watch her; incredulous and perplexed.

"Trying?" She echoes amusedly." I succeeded. Did you see the way that he was looking at you? He was practically seething."

You almost scoff. He wouldn't be jealous; he had no reason to be. And you don't know why Venetia's little ruse has pissed you off, or why that strange look on Farleigh's face had made your heart drop, but it did.

"The two of you are so dense that it's honestly as frustrating as it is entertaining," she says with pure exasperation. "I mean, whenever you're here, you're practically fused at the hip. Bickering like cats and dogs like we can't all see the truth." She laughs but it's more of a scoff really. "He speaks about you. All the time. Always whining and complaining about something you've done. But it's different. He practically has hearts in his eyes while does it. And it's exhausting." And then she's backing away from you, leaving you to settle and drown in the disarray of your own thoughts and come to terms with that. Does he really speak about you like that? Surely, there's no way.

"So can the two of you, for all of our sake's, sort whatever mess you've got going on between you and just fuck already? "

And then she's spinning away her heels, sending you a wink over her shoulder and the silver chains wrapping around her body in a delicate draped halter glint and twinkle underneath the lights; showcasing that elaborate weblike shape that they've been constructed in. And she just leaves you. Abandoning you in the middle of the temporary dancefloor while you fight with an upstream of odd emotions. You just standing there while you tussle with the urge to find Farleigh and apologize (apologize for what?) and tell him that it was just some weird joke from Venetia (why does that matter?). You don't know why you feel the need to go and try to repair whatever damage Venetia may have just done. What that said 'damage' may even be, you don't know. And you also don't know why you're suddenly heading off in the direction that Farleigh had disappeared in, scanning the crowd for him with some ugly sense of desperation that you don't want to unpack and analyze. Not even as you yield to it.

You aren't even sure how long you search for; your gaze jumping over every face and person that you see in the hopes that you find him. But the room is packed to say the least, and the odds of you actually stumbling across him must be low. He might not even be in this specific room anymore. And if that's case then you might as well as give up now. The estate is sprawling; if he doesn't want to be found, then he won't be. And you think about giving up. Of turning in for the night and trying to talk to him in the morning when you inevitably see him at the breakfast table.

But then you see him. Only this time there's no double take or reason to reconfirm that it is him, this time you spot him immediately.

He seemed to have shed his doublet at some point, leaving him in his pale undershirt. His mask is gone as well. And it takes your mind a second to realize that he's not alone. That he's pressed against some girl like he might kiss her. There's a smile on his face; inviting and flirtatious and the tips of their noses brush together as they lean in close.

You're an unintended observer. You shouldn't be here watching them in a moment that clearly isn't meant for you but it's as though your feet are glued to the floor. It's like watching a car crash. You don't want to look; you don't want to be here but some awful part of you is making you stay. Your muscles have gone still from something prickling and cold and disarming. You can feel it in your chest too. It's making your lungs seize and for one long, paralyzing moment it's almost like you can't breathe. But you don't have a right to be bothered by this. Farleigh's entitled to have one-night stands or flings or to go on dates with people if he wants to. There's no reason why he can't. And there's no reason why you should be feeling shame and betrayal and hurt right now. Absolutely no reason. You wonder if this is what he had felt just a few moments before while you were standing with Reuben and that odd little side of you hopes that he had.

God, what if Venetia had been right? What if -

Their lips brush together.

They're going to kiss, some hideous part of your brain whispers and even worse your body tenses and coils like it's bracing for some sort of dreadfully anticipated impact. This is it. The moment the car crashes and erupts into burning flames.

But then Farleigh goes still. Pausing as though someone had called his name or he's remembered something. The girl that he's pressed up against leans back with a confused furrow pinched between her eyebrows when he turns his head and his eyes land on you.

Your mouth goes dry, and your tongue seems thick and useless, and you try to swallow around it. Now that you're here you don't even know what to do with yourself. You aren't even sure what you had gone after Farleigh for. You didn't have a plan to begin with; you didn't know what to say. You have to internally curse yourself for following after him and putting yourself in this situation. It's strange and awkward and it takes everything for you to even manage a smile. To try and look casual and pretend that maybe you had just stumbled across them and hadn't intentionally tracked him down. And you lift a hand up in a lax wave while your mind ceaselessly chants for you to leave. To just go.

You can feel Farleigh's gaze searing into you, drilling holes into your head even as the girl that he's with leans towards him and you can't hear over the distance or the music, but she appears to be saying something if the way that her mouth is moving is any indication.

You're quick to turn on your heels and all but nearly speed walk away from the both of them, eager to create as much distance between you and them as possible. You don't feel like you're apart from your body. It's like you're disconnected from it, uncomfortably aware of your limbs and movements as you rush away. And it's like your emotions are stuffing your body full and threatening to tear it at the seams. Emotions that you don't recognize; that you don't want to recognize.

A warmth and pressure suddenly encircles around your wrist, much like a hand would and for a moment you think that you've imaged it. But then you're being pulled back gently by the strength of someone's grip, and it forces you to stop. You know who it is before you turn to look at them. You can smell the burn of tobacco from his cigarette habit on his clothes, and it blended with the delicate musk of his cologne. The woody notes of amber joining along with vanilla and bergamot and cardamom made your mouth water in some horrid Pavlovian response. It was humiliating.

Then your eyes are meeting his; dark and glimmering underneath the flashing, sweeping lights dancing about the room. And for one agonizing moment neither of you say anything. It's like you're both simultaneously drifting away and stuck in place. The energy looming over the both of you is foreign and strange, and Farleigh can feel it too if the blank, unsure expression on his face gives away as much.

And then he's releasing your wrist and you let your arm drop down at your side. He shifts on his feet and the weird tension in his shoulders drop as easily as if it were a piece of clothing and a smirk takes shape on his face. This is the Farleigh that you're more familiar with, with the condescending look in his eyes and a prideful tilt to his head. It puts you at ease. Dulling the nervous butterflies in your gut and allowing you to settle underneath his presence.

"Well, if it isn't Felix's favorite little pet." It's meant to be an insult. Most would read it as such, but for you it brings nothing but relief. It feels like a consolation almost. That whatever these strange little interactions have been they haven't damaged your relationship with Farleigh (what relationship?) and made things odd. He glances around the room and all of the festivities, the swaying crowd and streamers and flowing alcohol. He wrinkles his nose in a way that comes off as falsely apologetic. "Or I guess I should say second favorite now."

"Then it's a good thing that I didn't come here for him," you respond easily enough. Internally thankful that the last remaining remnants of tension in your throat hasn't prohibited your ability to speak. "I just know how thrilled you always are to see me, and so I couldn't possibly bring myself to skip out on the trip."

"Thrilled," he echoes with a scoff. "Is that what you think? Because personally I feel like drowning myself in the pond right about now."

"No one's stopping you, " you quip back easily, finally slipping back into your old dynamic.

His forehead scrunches as he pins you with an incredulous look, tilting his head as he moves in closer towards you. "And leave you here all alone? What would you do without me?"

"Thrive. Live. Experience peace."

"Sounds boring."

But you don't have time to respond. He's leaning back on his feet and stepping away from you while he digs one of his hands into the pocket of his costume's pants. And when he removes his hand, it comes out clutching a packet of cigarettes, which he's quick to ruffle around in. "Come on, I wanna smoke."

You don't ask any questions as he moves, leading you out from the dancefloor and throughout the house. Every so often he glances back over his shoulder like he's reconfirming that you haven't wandered off and left. He guides you up a set of staircases, past the couple planted by the first step who are openly making out and grinding on each other and up into the twisting, changing hallways.

"Where are we going?" You ask, nearly getting shoulder checked by a pair of girls who rush down the corridor in a fit of giggles.

"I told you, " he replies and hardly looks back. " I want to smoke."

You want to press him about. About how suddenly he's unable to smoke inside when you've seen him do at least a thousand times. Even at the breakfast table. He probably does it on the toilet too. It wouldn't be a surprise. You aren't sure how long the two of you walk for, higher up into the highest floors of the house until he's finally stopping and opening a door at the end of the hall. He pauses in the threshold, dipping his head in and looking in like he's checking to see if it's occupied. He could have just knocked. It would have been an unpleasant surprise for the people inside if it actually had been unavailable. But the coast must be clear because he's slipping inside and nodding his head for you to follow after. He shuts the door behind you, closing it with a click and gives you a passing smirk when you shoot him a curious glance.

You follow him into the room, vacant apart from some paintings and a few pieces of furniture - an old office maybe, and he leads you across the floors towards a pair of large glass double doors.

He tugs on one of the handles, swinging it open, revealing what appears to be one of the balconies. He's outside before you. And by the time you slide up beside him he's already leaning against the chiseled stone railing on his elbows and the cigarette perched between his lips is lit and smoldering.

The air outside is still warm, sweet and earthy with the scent of moister in the air, like some distant, unseeable storm is brewing. And you can see so much of the estate from this high up. The frolicking people down below in their costumes and those massive, glowing lotus lamps drifting in the pond. But even with all of the guests down on the courtyard engaging in various kinds of trouble; drinking and shouting and singing amongst themselves, up here their voices can harldy reach you. It sounds like a faint murmur on the soft summer wind. And for maybe the first time tonight you actually feel a sense of calm.

"He's a selfish lover, " Farleigh says randomly, flicking the butt of his cigarette to sprinkle the dead ash onto the far grounds beneath. "And a notoriously fast one too. Eliana Merrick said he busted as soon as he put it in."

He notices the lost look on your face and sighs, twisting around on his feet to lean his back against the railing instead. "Your little boytoy from earlier. Reuben Amory." He spits his name out with something that sounds suspiciously like contempt. Venomous and irritated and he lifts the cigarette up to take another drag. "His father's a friend of the family. To James specifically. That's how he always manages to weasel his way into our parties."

"I guess I dodged a bullet then." You joke, absentmindedly fiddling with one of the elaborate pearl earrings dangling from your ear.

"What? He didn't scratch your itch?"

"No," you shake your head with a light shrug. "He was fine. It's just . . . I don't know, I wasn't interested."

Farleigh snorts, making you glare at him, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"Nothing." But his tone is a little sarcastic, and unconvincing and the nasty smile on his lips reveals as much. "He just seemed to fit the bill of your type pretty well. Well-meaning, polite and a little pathetic."

You nearly laugh but it comes out as more of a scoff. "That is not my type."

"Oh, really?" He challenges, moving closer towards you and you can smell his cologne again. The vanilla sticks out the most this time. Delicate and sweet. "What about that guy you used to flirt with at IHop? "

"He was a server. It's literally his job to be nice-"

"And then there was your neighbor back at the apartment. The one across the hall with the abysmal amout of plants. And then who could possibly forget, what was his name? Adrian? Who you dated for all of four weeks."

It has you falling silent, unable to counter his argument even though you have a remark waiting on the tip of your tongue. You've never realized that Farleigh had ever paid that much attention to you and your affairs. It has that syrupy, fuzzy feeling pooling in the center of your chest despite that fact that you're actively telling yourself that it doesn't actually mean anything. It's normal for people to notice things about people that they're forced into proximity with.

"Wow, I never knew you were so interested in my love life, " you say, gripping onto the rough texture of the railing. Stroking your fingers over the soft groves and bumps. "Maybe you should get one of your own."

"But yours is always so entertaining," he snuffs out the cigarette and carelessly drops the butt onto the ground near his feet. "You know, with the way that it always seems to crash and burn."

It probably would have stung to hear if you weren't able to say that you were the one to end all of the relationships that you had been in. That you were always the one to take the first step in severing ties. Even with Adrian you had been the one to sit him down and explain that you just hadn't been able to see it progressing anywhere. The both of you were too different. Your goals and wants in life were polarizing and the only things that had brought you together were superficial at best. You just weren't built to last.

"Please, like yours has ever been any better." But he doesn't look the least bit offended. Instead, there's a satisfied quality to his expression. Your lips purse and something akin to defeat weighs down your shoulders. "Besides, they were all too sweet anyway. A little too nice. They could never keep up. I'd always end up saying something to hurt their feelings on accident and they would think that I meant it and then I'd get the silent treatment."

"Not like us, huh?" Farleigh responds a little softly. And he was right. There was always something about your dynamic with Farleigh that you had never been able to achieve in your relationships. The constant push and pull. The competition of your endless banter and insults. The way that you could be completely bare and unrestrained with your words without putting your standing with him at risk. There was . . . an intimacy in it that couldn't compare with anyone else. You had seen the worst of Farleigh. The sneers and jabs and heated sarcasm. And in turn he had gotten the brunt of your own ire and jokes, but it still didn't change a thing. Neither of you ran from it. Instead, you both seemed to revel in it. To seek it out even. It was a type of security that you had never found with any other friend or lover.

And you don't know what it is, but some invisible element shifts and rises between the both of you. Something that's always been there. Simmering and quiet, building up underneath your every interaction like water boiling on a hot stove.

"No. Not like us," you admit in a near whisper like if you spoke to loudly that it might disrupt whatever magnetic thrum has fallen over you both. So low that he might not have heard you. But then you see something flash in his eyes. Something hungry and eager and he's moving closer until you can feel his body heat pouring over your skin, seeping underneath the delicate fabric of your dress and into your bones.

"I hated all of them," he says it like a confession. Hushed and passionate. And you suppose that it is one. Told in total confidence, with a certain fervor like a sinner tucked away in a confessional booth. "I hated them because they should have been me."

It makes you gasp lowly. And your fingers squeeze around the banister like it might ground you and keep you from floating away. And suddenly Venetia's previous statements are echoing around in your skull; mocking and satisfied. You feel slightly stupid now. Blind. But never in a million years would you have guessed that Farleigh had actually ever been jealous of the men that you had dated. It seems like such a silly concept. Or else it would have in the past, but now here he is confirming the very thing that the two Catton sibling's have been vehemently trying to drill into your head for years. And you like it. God, you actually like it. Some nasty little side of you is completely satisfied and even elated that he's been seething over all of your old flings and exes. It feels good because you've been doing the same thing you suddenly realize. Every time that stinging burn had caught up in your chest at the sight of him curled up with some other person - it hadn't been irritation for Farleigh. It was jealousy. You had actually been jealous.

"Can I tell you something?" You ask.

He just hums, low and soft. You can't even glance away from him. Not even if you wanted to. Not with the way that he's looking at you. His stare is heavy and intense, and it feels like you're being held by the throat, forced to maintain eye contact with your breath steadily being stolen from your lungs. "I wished they were you, too."

It's like something breaks free from you when you say it. It was heavy, oppressive and suffocating and in its absence, it's replaced by a sense of ease and a freedom that makes you want to laugh and maybe even cry. And maybe if you weren't preoccupied with the entirety of your attention zoned in on Farleigh you might would have.

Now he's stepping even closer than before, and now you can actually feel the press of his body against yours. The pressure of it has your lips parting, and you have to angle your head to maintain your shared gaze without breaking it. Then his hand is tucking underneath your chin; the pad of his thumb lifts to brush over you, tracing the shape of your bottom lip with something that feels close to reverence.

"Can I kiss you?"

Something inside of you breaks apart at the question, crumbling and washing away like sand underneath the crashing power of a wave. You nod before you even fully register it, and your body is buzzing with a honeyed heat. And you understand that if you do this then whatever relationship you have with Farleigh is going to fundamentally altered. It will be the point of no return and the consequences, positive or negative, will be unavoidable. Maybe tomorrow things will go sour. Maybe by then you'll be back to hating each other, even worse than before. But you want this. Consequences and all.

"God, yes. Please."

His lips are soft and warm, and they taste sugary and faintly floral with what might have been the flavors of some beverage that he had drank earlier. There's the bite of tobacco on his skin too, sharp and smoky. It's usually something that you had never enjoyed when kissing people in the past, but right now it hardly even registers. You're too busy getting lost in the feel of him. The warmth of his hands framing your face, the way that he shifts you on your feet and nudges you back against the railing of the balcony. Your hands are everywhere that they can reach, stroking down his chest and dipping down to grip his hips, pulling them flush against you like any amount of space left between you might kill you.

He groans into your mouth at the gesture, nipping at you lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. It has heat, liquid and thick building between the cradle of your thighs. And you know that it's just kissing, but you can't help but internally berate yourself, because if the both of you hadn't been so horribly bullheaded you could have been doing this the entire time.

And he pulls away from you all too soon, making an embarrassing whimper bubble up from your throat, but he's hushing you with a soft coo, snickering lightly under his breath when he ducks his head beneath your chin to suck at the skin there. Taking it between his teeth and lips and you can't help to soft, breathless pants that start to leave your chest in response. It's purely possessive and you're sure that he's trying to leave marks there, and you can't find it in yourself to tell him not to. It's like your muscles are melting, going boneless at the sensation of his tongue tasting your skin, licking up the salt from it. You can feel the shape of his smug smile against your throat, and it makes you want to slap him. But instead, you're reaching a hand up to cradle the back of his neck, keeping him close to you.

You're wet already, soaking through your underwear. It's something that you would have been awfully conscious of in the past with another partner, but here and now you can hardly think around the red fog that's beginning to cloud your brain. And then he's shifting, sweeping a hand underneath the silk skirt of your dress to clasp around your thigh so that he could pull it to the side, allowing him to nudge his leg between the both of yours.

"Farleigh," you gasp, and he cruelly grinds his thigh against the heat of you, steadily feeding the pressure thrumming there but not letting it build towards anything more. It's frustrating. Mean. And it has you clawing at his shoulders impatiently.

"Yeah? What is it?" He asks, nipping at the sensitive skin on your ear, making sure to be mindful of your earring. You don't respond at first, unable to with the way that he's still steadily moving his thigh against you. It's simple, but with the way that you're already so pathetically worked up, it feels like agony. "Come on, you can tell me."

And to make it worse, that hand that had been gripped around your leg is now moving further underneath your dress, slipping between the press of your bodies to settle above where you want him. His fingers play with the elastic band of your panties, teasing, implying more. But then he hooks it in the crook of his fingers and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. The sting is dull, but it has you gasping regardless. You mindlessly reach for his hand that's still underneath your skirt, taking it into your own. And you briefly fear that he'll pull it from your grip. But he allows you to guide him. He removes his head from your neck to look into your eyes, watching your expression when you finally slip his hand underneath your underwear, and you can feel the shocking chill of his signet ring trailing across your heated skin. He takes over from there and you can't help the way that you arch into him when his fingers finally move down to where you need him the most. His face pinches when he spreads you open, and he nearly groans at the feel of you. "Jesus, baby, you're fucking soaking already."

Your eyes flutter from the drag of one of his knuckles brushing over your clit and it's like it's directly connected to every individual nerve in your body, making you squirm and moan raggedly.

"Is this all for me?" He asks, dipping one of his fingers lower, teasingly circling the entrance of your cunt but he doesn't go any further.

"Yes." Your lungs feel tight and your nipples brush against his chest with each breath that you take, doing little to help ease the tension and desire threatening to tear you apart. "Yes, it's 'cause of you. Please, Farleigh. C'mon."

"What's the rush?" He taunts, angling his head to take your bottom lip between his teeth and biting. "The night's still young. "

He rocks his thumb against your clit, smirking at you with pure arrogant satisfaction from the way that you shudder underneath his touch. You know that he's absolutely delighting in the way that you've been practically turned into mush by what is essentially some heavy petting. Especially after all of the years of trying one up each other, you're sure that this is doing wonders for his ego. Like it needs to get any bigger. That little prickle of irritation peeks out from underneath the saccharine haze shrouded over you, and you can't keep it down. "I fucking swear, Farleigh, " you nearly hiss, nudging your hips in the hopes that it'll drag the pressure of his fingers closer. "If you don't do something, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" Comes his immediate reply, the low rasp of his voice sounds completely unbothered.

"I'll leave, " you say firmly. Or as firmly as you possibly can with the way that the knuckle of his thumb has begun to rotate around your clit in tight, but soft sweeping brushes. But he doesn't appear to be worried in the slightest. He just grins at you. And shakes his head as he lowers it to nudge his nose against yours.

"No, you won't." He says it so certainly. Like he's omnipresent and has already seen the decided future. Like your fate is already sealed. And he's right as much as it pisses you off to admit it. You won't leave. But you don't want to tell him that and give him the satisfaction. " 'Cause you need me don't you, baby? Need me to make you cum."

You're nodding in agreement before you even realize it, throwing whatever semblance of control that you had right out of the window.

"Yeah? Gonna let me taste you?" Just the words alone nearly makes you keen aloud like some desperate slut, and you just barely swallow the sound down. But he must see it in your eyes. The sheer want and desperation that you feel coursing through your body like a drug. The need possessing you might actually be debilitating and you're back to clawing at his shoulders and arms in an attempt to just do something. To pin your focus on something other than the heavy ache between your legs. And you can just distantly hear yourself chanting a string of 'yes' like a broken record.

He tugs his hand from your underwear, and you can't help but mourn the loss, even when he's lowering himself down on his knees and planting kisses down across the expanse of your body as he goes. But then he's rucking the skirt of your dress up over your hips and tucking his fingers back into your underwear like he's getting ready to pull them down. Instead, he's just staring, and his eyebrows are pinched together almost like he's pained.

"You really are soaked," he says with a sort of awe. A thrum of embarrassment rings through you when you realize that he's probably admiring the noticeable wet spot that has dampened the crotch of your underwear from your arousal. You try to close your legs, mostly out of reflex but the sharp, reprimanding smack on the outside of your thigh that you get in response makes you freeze in place. He glares up at you and you have to reach behind you to grip the railing to keep from collapsing from underneath the intensity smoldering in his gaze.

"Keep them open," is his only warning before he all but rips your panties down your hips. Guiding one of your legs up with a hand for you to step out of them, but he leaves your lace underwear to hang from the high heel on your opposite foot; apparently too impatient to fully remove them. And he barely gives you time to think or breathe before he's taking ahold of you by your waist and swinging both of your thighs over his shoulders.

The feel of his tongue laving over the heat of your pussy in a long, greedy swipe makes you scream, completely uncaring for all of the guests down below. And all some distant, buried part of you can do is hope that you're up too high for anyone to hear you. That no one happens to glance up and see you clutching onto the railing for dear life. There's no build up to it. He's completely unrestrained, apparently having the goal to make you cum as quickly as possible with the way that he's working his mouth on you. Swirling his tongue over the swollen, sensitive nerves of your clit and lapping at the dripping entrance of your cunt like a man possessed.

You mouth drops open with heavy pants, and your hands scramble across the cool chiseled stone for something to ground you and keep you pinned to reality. You can see the glint of your arousal smearing across his lips and cheeks and the look in his eyes is a blend of determination and a dazed kind of contentment, and you can feel him groaning against your pussy, amplifying your pleasure. And if it wasn't for the way that you could barely stop whimpering and crying out, you'd nearly think that he was enjoying this more than you with his pleased hums thrumming throughout your body.

He takes your clit into the cradle of his mouth and sucks, and you think that you actually sob but you feel miles away from your body and also helplessly, deliciously trapped inside of it. "Farleigh, " you keen, humping against his face in a debauched display of hedonism. One of your hands reaches down, gripping onto his hair when your eyes roll back from the hot suction of his mouth.

"You taste so good, baby, " he huffs, lapping at the entrance of your cunt with firm, maddening strokes. "So fucking good."

It's too much. You feel like you're on fire. Like he's pulling you apart with each swipe of his tongue and putting you back together again one agonizing piece at a time. It feels cruel but it's also utter bliss. Your thighs are shaking from how tightly they're seized, clamped around his head in a tight squeeze. But he doesn't seem to be bothered about it, because when you try to be mindful and spread them open, he just takes them into his hold and presses them back up against his ears again like he wants to be suffocated. And the thought of that alone has something sharp and electric zipping through you. You file that little theory away for later.

And that familiar ache is rising up like a high, simmering tide. Building and rushing towards you with a quickness that takes you by surprise and you can feel your entire body winding up and coiling tight in anticipation. He drags you closer to his mouth, scooting you down lower against the railing. You're pretty sure that your back is going to be covered in scratches from the rough texture digging across your skin, but as of right now you couldn't give less of a shit. You let your head loll back on the stone, unable to find the concentration or strength to keep it up yourself. You stare up at the sky sightlessly, just barely taking in the winking glow of the scattered stars above while pure, liquid heaven seeps across your limbs.

That overwhelming looming pleasure is right over you now, just a few good strokes off. And with the way that he's licking and sucking at you with his mouth it won't be long before you're breaking apart for him.

"Farleigh," you whimper, choking around a wanton moan, trying to warn him.

He doesn't give you any verbal indication that he hears you. But the grip on your thigh's tense in response, and he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue before dipping it down inside of you; fucking you with it. You can't help the way you're grinding against him, crying out breathlessly when the point of his nose nudges against that swollen bundle of nerves, urging your orgasm to rush towards you at a breakneck speed that you can't brace for.

"Farleigh!" You nearly shriek this time while that wild, rush of pleasure crashes down on you with the intensity of torrential downpour. It tears through your body in a way that's almost violent, making you twist under the heat of his mouth and the iron grip that he still has secured around your legs like you've been jabbed with an electrical current. You sob through the brunt of it, probably alarming the entirety of the Saltburn Estate of your current position. And even after the most of it has made its way across your body, he doesn't stop lapping at you, determined to make sure that he wrings every ounce of your pleasure out of you. It isn't until you're weakly nudging his head away from your sensitive cunt that he pulls his mouth away, but he occupies it by kissing at the inner stretch of your thighs. He massages your hips gently and the sensation works to help guide you back into your own body and return a sense of coherence to you.

All you can do is just sit there and catch your breath, panting raggedly into the night air. You stare up at the stars with complete disbelief while your brain tries to catch up with the fact that Farleigh had just casually sucked your soul out of your body. Sure, you had heard stories of his sexual prowess from some of his past flings before. Heard all of the people gushing and praising his technique in the bedroom, and you had never not believed them per se, you had just never imagined that he was actually this good.

"You doing alright up there?" He asks and his voice is ragged and a little raspy like he was the one screaming and not you.

"Yeah," you confirm after a brief pause. "Just give me a minute and I'm gonna suck your dick."

You can feel him chuckle against you, playful and more than a little cocky but he's more than earned the right to be. "Take your time."

Thankfully, the strength has begun to come back to your body. And even though your limbs are still a little bit shaky you're more than determined and able to ignore it and push through. You raise your head up look at him, using your arms to shift and lift yourself up. He looks up at you expectedly, eyebrows raising with amusement while he aids you in removing your wobbling legs from his shoulders.

He must notice something in your gaze; desperation, want, determination, because he just moves to lean back on his elbows with a relaxed smirk.

"Right here?" He asks. You just nod wordlessly as you lower yourself down on your knees. You could go inside. You probably should. There wasn't a bed in the room that you had entered the balcony from, but there was a couch. Hell, even the floor in there would probably be more comfortable for the both of you than the harsh rock underneath you right now, but you don't want to wait. Not even with the room being so close. Your knees are going to absolutely hate you tomorrow but as of right now, you can't find it in yourself to care.

He parts his legs for you to settle between them and you're fast to crawl over him while he lifts himself up to kiss you. Your lips connect with teeth and tongue, and you moan into each other's mouths when you reach down to cup the length of him from over his pants. He's hot and heavy, even with the layer of fabric covering him. You're still sensitive from your recent orgasm but when you feel the weight of him against your palm, your pussy flutters and tinge of heat settles in the base of your abdomen.

"Baby please, just take it out, " he whines. His voice is petulant and quivering. On any other night you would have used it as an excuse to tease him, but as of right now, you don't have the heart (or patience) to. The urgency in his tone has you thumbing at the buttons closing his pants, but it doesn't help that they're so small and that its dark. You have to squint underneath the dim moonlight to find them and your fingers slip more than once. But luckily you manage to pop all of them through their opening in the fabric; even with the way that Farleigh impatiently grinds into the air, trying to use your hand and forearm as something to grind his cock against.

It's so desperate and dirty but it's also so fucking hot. Seeing him all laid out and begging has a heavy anticipation fizzling underneath your skin, prompting you to grip at the edge of his pants. He's eagerly lifting his hips up, aiding you as you tug the fabric down, working it around the swell of his ass and his hips. And he audibly groans in relief when his cock springs free from the restraint of his clothes. It's so hard that it looks like must be uncomfortable, and there's a steady stream of precum pouring from the tip and trailing down along a thick, throbbing vein in a pearlescent sheen.

Your mouth waters at the sight, and you have to swallow it in the fear that you might actually drool if you don't. He catches the way you're admiring him, and something smug bleeds into his dazed expression. A reversal from the way that he had outright begged for you earlier. You really want to wipe that look off of his face.

Then you're giving into your basest desires and leaning forward to lick at the head of his cock with long, steady sweeps, scooping up the salt of him into your mouth. He's rewarding you as soon as you touch him, breathing out a strained, "fuck," while his fingers come up to grip your hair, already knocking a few of the fake flowers clipped along your updo free; honeysuckles and pink camellias. He doesn't force your head down, but he doesn't remove his hold either, gently urging you to keep going and you can't help but concede. Stretching your jaw open further to slip him inside your mouth before slowly pulling off of him with a firm suck, lapping at the slit of his cock when you do.

He isn't the biggest you've taken, but he's still thick enough for you to feel a slight strain at the hinges of your jaw, but it doesn't deter you in the slightest. You nod your head down to take him in your throat, making sure to be mindful of your teeth as you go and luckily, you're aided by the lubrication of your saliva. You don't stop until you feel the faintest hint of your gag reflex and even then, you have to push off the thought to just keep going, to let yourself gag on him. You'll save that for some other time. As of right now, you want to be able to savor every little movement and twitch and whimper.

You've just started and it's already so sloppy, wet with the way that your drool smears around your lips and chin, and Farleigh seems to be struggling to keep his hips still, resisting the urge to fuck your mouth. His thighs are tense underneath the palms of your hands, muscles flexing and twitching with frayed restraint and each jerky hitch of his hips is punctuated by airy sighs and moans.

A glance up from your place between his legs has you appreciating the way that his back is already arching. He looks gorgeous like this, all splayed out with the thick of his eyelashes fluttering against the jut of his cheek bones. You've always had the sneaking suspicion that Farleigh would lean a bit on the submissive side in bed. Always overcompensating with his arrogant attitude and sarcasm, but you didn't think that he'd be this sensitive. You aren't sure if it's just because he might have already been so worked up from eating you out, or if he's naturally just responsive, but either way the way that he's acting is doing wonders for your ego. The power that you're getting from seeing him already so pleased and dazed is filling your head full of a syrupy sort of satisfaction.

You pull off of his cock with a pop, delighting in the way that he whimpers in protest. You just hum in response, smirking at him while you nuzzle your nose down the line of his shaft and all of his complaints die out once you take one of his balls into the warm cradle of your tongue, reaching up to grip him in your hand while your mouth is occupied.

He moans raggedly, a string of whispered, "so good, don't stop - please, don't stop." Like you'd ever do that now that you've got him underneath you. And not to sound dramatic, but the sky could split open with brimstone and hellfire and the apocalypse could reign down on Saltburn and you still wouldn't pull away from him. Not when he sounds so sweet. Not while he tastes so good. Salty and earthy across your pallet. And the way that he pants into the balmy night air, already breathless has the heat between the apex of your thighs back with a vengence; burning and wet, and you have to rub them together in an attempt to ease the tension there.

You can't help the way that you moan around him, lightly sucking at the sensitive point between his balls and the base of his cock while you smear your thumb over his slit. You the use the fluid to aid in few more pumps from your hand before you're licking back up his shaft again, swallowing him back down while your hand switches places to fondle his sack and the cry that he lets out in response is heavenly. Urging you to bob you head down on him in a steady rhythm. You try to remember to breathe through your nose but in your fervor, you often find yourself neglecting to take in lungfulls of air and as a result an oxygen deprived haze has begun to fizzle over your head. But you can't bring yourself to be worried over it. It feels good. The fuzzy, drunken buzz stuffing your skull full while you work his cock is stupidly addictive.

He must notice the glazed over look in your eyes because he's smiling at you from around the way that his lips have dropped open to release a bout of heavy pants. He drops the hand that had been clutching your hair to sweep his fingers across your face in a gesture that's way too sweet for a guy who's getting head. And it has something soft and sweet blossoming in your chest when he strokes your cheek with his thumb; it makes you feel delicate and adored even while your chin is smeared with spit and cum and your jaw is starting to ache.

"You're already a little fucked out aren't you?" It's rhetorical, you know, but you find yourself moaning in response regardless. "You look so georgous like this."

Liar. There's absolutely you look even remotely attractive right now. You can feel the prickle of tears threatening to slip past your water line and down your face, and you're sure that your lashes have begun to clamp together from the damp. Your lips are swollen and there's a sheen of sweat glittering on your forehead. You probably look like a wreck but it still has you melting, and you begin to lick and suck at him with even more passion than before.

And it must have felt good for him because his head is rolling back on his shoulders and his elbows nearly collapse, leaving him to drop onto his back with a gutted groan. His eyes roll back, and his thighs seize. His white undershirt has ridden up around his ribs, showing off the stretch of his abdomen and you can see the way that his muscles flex and tense with the same pulse of his hips. He's close and it only has you doubling your efforts with even more vigor, desperate to taste him on your tongue, to feel the heat of him in your mouth and throat. The sound of his gasping has changed in pitch, rising into something that sounds close to a sob.

But then you're being torn off of him without warning and you can't contain your mournful whimper when the weight of him leaves your mouth. Irritation and betrayal flares and you can't keep yourself from glaring at him even while he looks close to wrecked, rambling underneath his breath something that sounds like, "I'm sorry baby, I need to feel you, " as he hauls you onto his lap.

And your scattered brain is still able to grab onto what he wants. You gather up your skirt to settle your knees on either side of his hips and you're quick to grab ahold of his cock to line it up with your entrance. Neither of you have the mental capacity to tease or draw the process out longer than it needs to be, and you're thankful that he had already ate you out earlier, giving you some semblance of prep. And without any fanfare you're sinking down onto his cock, and your pussy flutters around his girth, stretching until he's buried in at the hilt.

The shared groans that you let out are ones of relief and pure bliss. Your body shudders at the fullness nestled within the apex of your thighs and Farleigh impatiently grinds his hips up into yours, rocking his pelvis into your clit with a petulant huff. "Come on baby, ride me, " he urges. "Fucking take it."

You can't find it in yourself to deny him. Or yourself. And he lets you plant your hands onto his chest for support when you lift yourself up with your thighs to begin wildly bouncing on his cock, grinding and swiveling your hips with each downstroke. That thick, heated pleasure is already building up near the base of your spine, and you already know that you aren't going to last long. Not with how worked up you are. And you don't think that he's going to be able to hold off either.

He's watching you with something akin to wonder in his eyes and his lips are snagged between his teeth like he might be trying to quiet himself. Like he's trying to selfishly hide those punched out little moans. And you don't know why he tried to be hushed now after he's been groaning and whimpering this entire time but that petulant expression on his face tells you all you need to know. He's doing it on purpose, the brat. It has you leaning over him to pepper soft kisses over his cheeks, nipping at his chin and jaw sweetly, before you squeeze your pussy around his cock like a vice and you place your hand around the base of his throat. You don't tighten your fingers around it, but let him feel the pressure of your grip, testing the waters to see if your earlier theory had been right.

And his body goes taut underneath you while his hips thrust into you with a harsh twitch. A gutted moan follows closely behind, and he grips onto your thighs like he needs it to ground himself and keep himself present.

"Feel good?" It's admittedly a little condescending but even then, you can't help the softness that bleeds through your tone. He nods his head drunkenly, tilting his head back to bare his throat to you. The way that he's melting underneath the ceaseless roll of your hips and mindlessly fucking into you with deep, heavy thrusts is already driving you towards that tide of heat and ecstasy, and they way that you openly keen reveals as much.

Your knees are already stinging from the harsh stone floor digging into them and your thighs are already burning with exertion from the ruthless pace that you had set. But you have no desire to stop yet. To switch positions or ask him to take over, not with how beautiful and fucked out he looks beneath you.

You're both already messy and incoherent, chasing after your pleasure desperately. The noises coming from the place where your bodies are joined is filthy with the repetitive smack of skin on skin and the crude squelching of your cum echoing off of the rock walls around you. And maybe if your brain wasn't practically mush you might would have had the capacity to care, but you just can't find it within yourself while you watch every minute, rapturous expression flit across Farleigh's face. Not while his plush lips are parted for him to gasp, and his eyes have nearly gone cross.

"Baby, " he whines brokenly. A warning for the way that he's quickly hurdling towards his release from the constant rock of your hips. Yours isn't far off either, simmering and curling within the pit of your abdomen and you can already tell that your orgasm is going to destroy you. It's so close. So, so, so close and you find yourself nodding shakily in response to him.

"I know, I know, " your jaw goes lax at a partially hard thrust from his hips, muscles spasming around the drag of his cock.

"Where - where can I- "

"Inside," you answer, choking on your breath." I'm on the pill - it's safe, you can- "

He cuts you off with a gutted, shredded groan of your name and his entire body seizes up from the power of his orgasm. The warmth of his release spreads throughout your lower stomach and another choppy, wild thrust from Farleigh grinds his pelvis into the tender nerves of your clit. It just sneaks up on you. Sweeping you up and dragging you down before you can even register that it's ravaging your body and making you scream. For a second you completely forget what it means to have a physical body. You don't have hands, or feet, or a mind. You don't have a favorite song and there aren't any bills to pay, or an apartment back home in America, and the chaotic party downstairs doesn't exist. The cold stone floor beneath your knees isn't there. You're just floating. Suspended in a state of bliss and pleasure.

For a moment you just are.

And then your lungs are gasping, filling up with oxygen. Clarity comes back to you in pulses and the feeling in your limbs follows behind. Sensation returns to your toes and fingertips and then your eyes are fluttering open. The first thing you hear is the rapid pulse of a heartbeat and when you breathe the scent of something like vanilla and cigarette smoke nestles within your lungs. It has you rubbing your cheek against the heat of their chest - Farleigh's chest, your brain supplies sluggishly. You don't remember collapsing on top of him but apparently you had.

"God damn," he slurs, prompting an amused, tired laugh from you. For a moment the two of you just lay there, taking the time to return to yourselves and grasp your senses. And with it, reality rises up too. That you're laying here with Farleigh on an open balcony with his cum dripping from between your thighs. And apart from his confession earlier there's some small insecure part of you that's worried that he hadn't fully meant it. That this was just a simple fling. Something to ease the tension that's been brewing between the both of you for the past few years. But you don't get to wallow in your fears for long before he's tapping on your thigh and shuffling up onto his elbows.

You just hum at him questioningly, not yet trusting your voice.

"Need a cigarette," he answers.

That has you moving, lifting yourself from his hips and you both hiss, sensitive and raw when he slips from you. Your knees are tender too, aching and you inelegantly plop yourself on your rump beside Farleigh to give them some relief. And you briefly occupy yourself with your underwear, slipping it back underneath your dress and smoothing out your skirt as best as you can.

He works on slipping his pants and tights back over his hips, digging into his pocket as soon they've been righted for a cigarette and his lighter. You watch him with something nervous in your gut. And you tell yourself that you're being stupid and overdramatic. So, what if this was just a one-time thing? It was an amazing time. And if this turned out to be some random fling then that would just make it even more special, right? And he said that he was jealous of your past exes but that didn't necessarily mean that he had feelings for you. You had been the one to jump to conclusions and assume.

And even if by tomorrow he pretends that this never happened then that would be fine. You'd make do. You'd survive. It won't be the end of the world.

"Do you want to spend the night with me?"

The question tears you from your thoughts. Saves you from them really and pulls your attention onto Farleigh. His eyes are glimmering from the burning embers at the end of his cigarette, laying some strange quality in his gaze bare. But whatever it is looks uncertain and hesitant. And it serves as reminder that this is new territory for him as well. That he's just as unsure as you are. It gives you a little boost of confidence that you aren't alone in your self-induced doubts. It makes you smile; soft and relaxed and you hope that it helps whatever thoughts he may have running around in his own head.

"Sure," you say. "But I want to rewatch House of Wax. "

His face scrunches up in response, but he's already rising up to his feet and holding a hand out for you to take, helping to pull you up on your wobbling feet. "That movie is shit."

"Well, I wouldn't be able to tell with the way that you wouldn't stop talking the last time that we all watched it." You grip onto his forearms while you find your balance, lowly cursing your heels and unsteady ankles. The energy has shifted into place, as easily as breathing; thawing all of the worries and insecurities that had initially clattered around in your brain as though they hadn't been there at all.

"That's because the characters were nothing but cliches and one note, " he scoffs and promptly drops his cigarette on the balcony, snuffing it out by grinding it with his shoe.

"I also need a bath."

A smile curls on his lips, a little teasing. " Want to share?"

You stare at him, a little disbelieving. There's absolutely no way that you could do that again tonight. At least not so soon. You're exhausted, barley holding yourself up as it is and you're still clinging to one of Farleigh's arms for support.

"Really? After that?" You question, eyebrows raising, but you can't keep yourself from trying to joke despite your surprise. "You're terrible."

Farleigh chuckles, guiding you towards the double doors gently, "Oh, don't look at me like that," he says, purely amused. "I wasn't suggesting another round, you're the one with your head in the gutter."

You don't reply. Too caught up in the fuzzy way that it makes you feel; his request to share a bath with you. A small gesture maybe, but it also feels wonderfully domestic and intimate. It has you leaning into his side as you step into the adjacent room, breathing in the scent of his cologne, soaking up the body heat that radiates from his skin. Whatever new chapter between the both of you has opened has still left you two with a lot of unsaid questions and answers. You still don't know what you two are. If there's a label to apply to you both of it was just a one-night stand, but you don't have to get those answers right this second. For now, you can just bask in his company and come morning, once you've both had time to think and adjust you can sit him down and have a conversation. And maybe (hopefully) your relationship will finally become something more.

But as for now, you don't mind spending the night in his room. Of cuddling up underneath the covers of his bed after a nice bath and watching a movie together, even though you know that the duration of it is going to be spent with him criticizing every line of bad dialogue and griping over plot holes, no matter how insignificant they may be.

It sounds like the perfect night, honestly.

But still there is still one burning question that's searing at your brain like a hot coal, and you can't keep yourself from voicing it.

"Do you think anybody heard us?"

And his answer is blunt and honest.

"Oh, yeah, there's no way they didn't."

#farleigh x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh start x you #farleigh start smut #farleigh catton #saltburn #saltburn movie #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn x reader #saltburn x you #oliver quick x reader

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islayhawkin · 4 months

Text

Let me take care of you

Newt x f!reader (clint x jeff mentioned- if you don't ship it just ignore it lol)

2,8k

Summery: newt accidentally overhears you talking about liking him but he thinks you were talking about minho

Request: Hello can you do a newt x fem!reader when the reader is a medjack and talk about (I forget if it’s Clint or Jeff) how she is love with him but she didn’t realize he was behind her ? Please

Misunderstandings; hurt/comfort, angst

A/N: okay this escalated pretty quick into angst whoops

Can be read as a part 2 of 'let me help you'

It was a usual morning in the glade. The runners were getting ready to start their rounds. Alby started to wake everyone up and frypan made breakfest ready.

You and jeff on the other hand were already in the med-hut to check up on a slicer who almost got his arm chopped off yesterday. Jeff held his fingers to the boys neck.

"He's still alive."

You hummed in relief.

"Lost much blood?"

You collected the things to change the bandage on the young boys arm.

"Nah seems pretty good."

You handed jeff a container of warmed up water and a cloth. "Thanks" jeff muttered as he began removing the blood soaked bandage from the arm. You sat down next to the bed and gave jeff a helping hand whenever he needed.

"How are things with clint?" You gave Jeff a teasing grin. Jeff sighed.

"There are no 'things' between me and clint." But he gave up long ago to deny it convincingly in front of you.

"You looked shucking cute cuddled up yesterday evening." You grinned as you took the dirty cloth and water bowl from him.

Jeff scoffed. "Oh yeah what about you lovebirds then? I'm pretty sure you two were the ones cuddled up. Half the glade was probably jealous." He took the new bandage from your hand. A blush coated your cheeks but you smiled softly at the memory. "Yeah we were quite close yesterday."

You realised that the boy jeff was currently treating was still fast asleep. "Nothing wakes him up does it?" You pointed to him.

Jeff chuckled. "He sleeps like a rock. But don't try to distract me. I'm telling you, you need to ask him out."

"Because you're the expert in that?" You raised your brow.

Jeff rolled his eyes and sat down too after finishing the bandage. "No. Because it is so clearly obvious to everyone. Do you know why the boys don't try anything anymore with you?"

You blinked confused. "No...?" "Newt threatens them. They're afraid they'll be banished or beaten to a pulp if they try something with you."

You were speachless for a moment. "What...? No newt doesn't do that... I know he's protective. That's why they set up the rules but he never uses violence."

"Well he does when you are involved. You remember how gally was brought in with a bashed in face? That was newt. Gally, as gally is, apperently said a lot of disrespectful stuff about you which he could not tolerate."

Your heart beat a bit faster. Newt did this for you? You knew newt avoided violence and stuck to order as much as he was capable off. And that he completely neglected these believes as soon as you were involved was weirdly...sweet.

"So I'm telling you- he cares about you very deeply. Almost concerningly so. And everyone of the boys is aware how you two look at eachother."

You couldn't contain your bright smile. "I never knew that. That is very sweet." You sighed dreamily. "He's just so adorable."

Jeff laughed quietly. "I tell you he's beaten someone up and you call him adorable?"

You glare at him with a pout. "You know that's not what I mean. He's just- so handsome. Even when his hair is touseled of sweat at the end of the day. I don't know how he does it. I could listen to his voice all day too. Every time I see him I just want to squeeze him out of excitment."

"I'm sure he is." Jeff muttered with a grin.

"He always looks out for everyone and rather neglects his own needs than others. I'd rather he wouldn't but I like that about him. He also has everything in control. I mean alby is the leader but he's the leader in the background. He always notices when something is wrong and asks about it. When he laughs he has these really cute crinkles on his nose. Sorry I'm rambling."

Jeff leaned forward. "Then do something about it. Honestly in the eyes of everyone you're already-"

Newt cleared his throat as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of the med-hut. He had walked in a minute ago and heard you talking about someone. At first he thought you might actually be talking about him but his self-consciousness told him you were probably talking about minho. You two always were so close. Minho was a phisical guy. He was muscular. Had great humor. Of course newt understood why you'd fall for minho. After all it was his best friend. But it still stung. A lot.

Newt didn't mean to eavesdrop but he couldn't really find a good moment to interrupt until he couldn't stand hearing more.

His face showed a friendly expression but his eyes wouldn't meet your face.

You on the other hand were turning around to look at newt with wide eyes. You didn't know how long he stood there. How much he heard. If he even heard anything so you tried to slow your heartbeat and act normally.

Jeff glanced between you two as if he was watching a very interesting story unfold before his eyes.

"I uh. I need to get some supplies for the runners. They're about to start. But maybe you'd like to bring it yourself to minho?"His eyes were lowered to the ground.

"Yes of course. No problem." You hastily stood up and collected the small supplies for the runners. As soon as you finished speaking newt was already gone again.

You stilled as you realised this and turned to jeff with wide eyes. "Do you think he heard?"

"He heard something."

"Why did he storm off then?"

Jeff raised his shoulders. "You should probably go talk to him."

***

You did try and talk to him but after the encounter Newts behavior changed. He clearly tried to avoid you. He was a lot more in his room. Even locked up so alby couldn't get in to sleep. He almost worked aggressively hard as a track-hoe. Not stopping to work at dinner time and starting to work before the others were even up.

The others noticed too of course. Newt was the glue after all. Without Newts full help the glade got into a more chaotic state. Alby needed to scream around a lot more. He even seemed to be angry at newt for acting this way.

He didn't come to the med-hut anymore. Neither for his limp nor to pick you up for sleep.

For you and frankly everybody else it was a unreasonable change of behavior. You knew the things he overheard in the med-hut were the trigger for this but you could not fathom why he'd be so distraught because of it.

But to Newt it was perfectly reasonable. You were in love with minho and the latter obviously in love with you. The whole glade seemed to be. You were the only girl. What chance did he have.Newt saw it clearly. You always were with minho. Sometimes even disapearing with him into the woods. He didn't even want to think about what you did. You always kissed minhos cheek. Hugged him a lot. Minho always flirted with you.

And it was even worse that minho was his best friend. He loved minho dearly. They've been through everything together. And he couldn't bare the thought of losing you both when you two were so close.

This reaction to the pain he felt in his chest may have seemed overdramatic to a outsider but to newt it wasn't only about 'not getting a chance with you'. It made him realise that the love he felt for you, the hope you gave him, was all in his head. He needed your love. Desperately. And he didn't know how to cope without it again.

This worried you. A lot.The behavior reminded you of the time after his incident. How you first got to know him after waking up in the glade. He seemed broken then and he did now.It made you realise that nothing really changed about newt. He was still that small kid that you first met.

What worried you even more was his self-harming behavior. Not taking any consideration about the state of his body.

He didn't stop working even when alby told him to. Sometimes he didn't show up for dinner because of it. You always took a extra ration from frypan and brought it up to his room.

You knocked softly on the locked wooden door. "Newt?" There was no answer. "Newt I brought you dinner. You need to eat something."

Silence.

You almost layed the plate down in front of the door again when the door opened a bit.

Newt couldn't help but take that glimpse of your care.

You gave him a smile. "Hey." You held the plate out in front of you. "Here. You missed dinner."

Newt took the plate from your hands hesitantely and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Thanks."

Before he could close the door again you held the door open with your foot. "Newt what's wrong? I know I've been asking this constantly the last few days but I worry about you. The whole glade does. You're not acting like yourself." Your voice was soft.

He shrugged carelessly. "Maybe I just have my period." He tried to joke. You were glad he attempted a joke again. But you also knew it was his way of distracting of the matter at hand.

You gave him a look. "We both know that is not the reason."

Newt sighed. "There is nothing wrong. I'd like to sleep."

You scanned his face desperate for a answer. "Is all this about what you heard me talking about?"

Newt froze up. "I never heard anythin'. Good night." He closed the door and locked it. He leaned his back against the door and took deep breaths. Blinking away tears.The situation didn't stop him from defending you though. On the contrary. He got more angry. More irretable. The usual calm and collected newt was overcome with a more emotional one.

Minho and alby gave you a explicit instruction to get throught to him at breakfast table that morning.

And you were determined to do so today. This has been going on for a few days too long for your liking. When you made your way over to the gardens in search of him the sign you were met with made a stabbing pain in your heart. Newt was working in the garden as usual. Pulling vegatables out, getting new fertilizer, sowing new ones. You normally loved watching him work. But today the pain was evident on his face. His limp finally catching up with the pressure he was constantly putting on it. You saw him stumble a few times but he pushed through obviously.

Until he just...collapsed. His leg gave out under him. You could see him staying layed on the ground. His face on the earth. Exhausted. Suddenly his lanky frame you oh so loved looked a bit too skinny for your liking.

You hurriedly made your way over to him. When he noticed you he tried to scramble up fastly which only made his limp buckle under his weight again. He cursed under his breath.You kneeled down beside him and gripped his arm and a hand around his waist. "Shuck newt. What are you doing..."

"I'm fine. I'm fi-" he struggled to get up again with the few strength he had left.

You pulled him down against you by the waist again. "Stop it." There was a plea in your voice. "Stop it newt. You're hurting yourself."

He still struggled against your hold. "Let go. There is nothing...wrong" his voice cracked.

You didn't let him go. He turned his head away from you as a tear rolled down his cheek and he started to shake slightly.

Everything hurt him. His body. His mind. Only your soft touch gave him comfort.

"Shh." You turned his head to you gently. He didn't meet your eye but you could see in them the pain he was in. You wiped the tear away with your thumb.

"Come on. I'll take care of you." You stroked a dirty strand of hair out of his face and helped him stand up. A lot of his weight leaned on you as you led him into the med-hut. Clint looked up startled when he saw you carry a half limp newt in.

"Out." You ordered him but added a thankful smile.

Clint nodded with a glance at newt and scrambled out of the hut. Newt let himself fall down onto a bed. You took a blanket and tucked him into it, started to boil water on the fire and pushed another pillow under his head.

"I will be right back. Don't go anywhere." Newt watched how you gave him a sweet smile and made your way outside again.You came back with a bowl of food and a bottle of water, shut the door to the med-hut to build as much privacy as possible.

You sat yourself down on the side of his bed and showed him your loot. "What do you want?" A loving smile thrown his way.

"Carrot" he cracked out.

You put the rest of the food aside and handed him the carrot. He moved up to rest his back against the wall and hesitantely began to eat the carrot under your careful watch. The silence engulfed the room for a while only the cracks of the carrot being heard.

You made a heating pad with the boiling water meanwhile and pulled the leg of newts trousers up to gently lay the warm pad onto his throbbing knee.

You did what you always did. Care for him. Take care of him. He had missed this terribly. But he hadn't forgotten what had happened.

He looked at you a long moment. Watched your every move. He felt like he hadn't been able to look at you proberly for way too long. "Do you-" he swallowed. "Do you like my voice too?" His voice was timid. He wasn't sure why he chose that detail to ask.

"What?" You ask perplexed and looked up at his face.

"Nevermind" his voice was still raw.

"Of course I like your voice. How do you come to that question?"

Newt didn't know how to answer that question so he stayed silent.

You sighed and slid nearer to him on the bed. "Newt what's wrong? Please tell me. You are in a horrible condition. I'm worried. Everyone is worried."

"I- heard you. The other day. Talking about minho. You should give him a go if you feel that way about him."

You blinked. To you his talk was making none sense at all.

"but uh-" he swallowed. "Can I still come to you if you...?"

You frowned. "I'm not sure what you're talking about newt. Of course you can come to me. Always. You know that. But what has this to do with minho-?" The words now registered completely in your brain. "You think I was talking about Minho?"

Newt looked away painfully. "Yes I suppose it was obvious for a while..."

You shook your head in realisation. "Newt."

His eyes snapped up to yours. "I wasn't talking about minho. I was talking about you."

Newt thought he hadn't heard right. "W-what?"

"Yes. I mean minho is great. I love him too. But he's not you."

"You like all that about...me ?"

"Of course. You are...amazing." You laughed quietly.

Newt was speechless.

Your heart was beating a lot more faster than normally but you tried to ignore it. Taking a deep breath. "May I...lay with you?" You whispered.

He never wanted- needed anything more. But his brain was in freeze and he could only nod his head.

You cautiously layed down next to him and crawled your body under the blanket too. You were very clode to eachother. You could feel the presence of his body next to you. He felt himself relax in the presense of your body next to him. Your small breath tickling his cheek.

You decided to let your instincts take over and slid your hand around his waist gingerly. Newts body tensed up and he sucked in a small breath at the sudden contact.

"Thank you." He breathed out. His body relaxing again.

"For what?" You whispered.

"Loving me. Pulling me out. Caring for me. Without you I'd probably would have taken another go at that jump long ago." His self humor shone through.

You smiled but lightly squeezed him. "Don't joke about that. I'm glad you feel that way. Thank you too."

"For what?" He retorted my own question back.

"Being you. Looking out for me. I heard the boys were threatened by you?"

A blush formed on his cheeks. "Yeah they were saying disrespectful stuff and I can't let them wander around thinking they can try whatever they want with you."

You smiled. "Always holding the order up."

"It's my job." You looked at his big brown eyes.

"Please don't punish yourself like this again. Don't shut yourself off like this. I'm not sure why you're punishing yourself. You don't have to tell me. But I don't want you to do it. Please? At least talk to me."

"I'll try."

#newt x reader #newt tmr #newt maze runner #hurt/comfort #newt imagine #the maze runner #tmr #Clint x jeff

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samandcolbyownme · 3 months

Text

This was originally going to be just a Sam one shot, but then i decided to make it a Sam and Colby one shot. I felt like Sam's cover was too good to change, so enjoy the buy one get one free deal lol.

Summary: Reader drives herself insane trying to think of this mystery man she cannot stop thinking about and completely caught off guard when there's two of them.

Warnings: SMUT18+,��vampire!Sam, demon!colby, compulsion and mind reading from both Sam and Colby, mentions of blood and blood drinking, strong language, mentions of alcohol, reading feeling like they're going insane, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, fingering, oral (m&f rec), threesome w/ dp, dirty and cute pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, filth

Word count: 10.3k | NOT edited

Not a request

Bold italics are Sam and Colby speaking in readers head.Regular italics are scenes they create in her head & reader being compelled at times.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Have you ever tried moving on from something that hasn't necessarily happened, but no matter how hard you tried, you just can't?

Your mind, constantly replaying stuff in your dreams, random times throughout the day.

Hitting you when you least expect it?

Then, when you finally think you've gotten over it, gotten rid of the haunting thoughts, it comes back, stronger than it was before?

That was you. Right now.

You had this feeling of anxiety, feeling like something was going to happen. It's happened multiple times a day, even causing you to wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes gasping for air.

But, you can never remember your dreams and nothing ever happens.

You could never describe the feeling.

Your friends would ask if you're okay because you looked 'tired' or you said no to doing something you always have said yes to.

They knew something was up, and so did you, but you just didn't know what was causing you to feel like this so it was always 'I didn't sleep well last night' or some other lame excuse that they could see right through.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Your friend, Cami asks, "You've been, not sleeping well, for the last week or so." She tilts her head, "What's really going on?"

You take a deep breath, "I honestly.." you pause, leaning forward to set your coffee mug down on the coffee table, "If I tell you, you have to promise not to call me crazy."

She nods, leaning back against the couch, "Okay."

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "So besides me not sleeping well, I'll get to that in a sec, but it started last week, after we came home from Tara's party."

"Did someone h-"

You cut her off, "No. no. It's not that."

She sighs, "Oh fuck, okay good." She motions, "Continue. Sorry."

You bat the air, "When I came home I felt like I was forgetting something, but I had everything I took with. I also felt.. I don't know, almost guilty for going and having a good time? Like, almost like I shouldn't have gone? I'd don't know."

She furrows her brows, "That doesn't make any senses. I mean, I just.." she stops, "it sounds like you're feeling emotions you'd feel when you're with someone and you did something you know they don't like."

You shrug, "I mean, yeah. It kind of does feel that way, but at the same time if I really think about it, it still doesn't make sense. I mean, maybe I think about it way too much, but-"

She cuts you off, "Are you talking to anyone? Maybe someone who is a potential boyfriend and you felt bad for going out?"

You look up at her, "That's where it gets crazy."

She gives you a weird look, "Huh?"

"I feel like- okay. You promised not to call me crazy, so just.. hear me out." You stare at her and she nods and you continue trying to explain, "I feel like.. I already belong to someone."

She makes a face and you hold your hand up, "I know. I know. I just, I can't. I can't explain it really. I mean, I keep seeing this person in my dreams and it almost feels like they're who I'm-"

You shake your head, "That sounds absolutely fucking insane. I take back what I said, you can call me crazy."

You laugh, slightly embarrassed at what you just said.

This is the first time that you've actually talked about it out loud, and it sounds a lot crazier than you originally had thought.

"You're into reading books, right?" Cami asks and you nod, "Yeah, I'm actually reading one right now."

"What's it about?" She brings her legs up, moving the blanket to cover up. You purse your lips, "It's a darker romance book, so it's basically about a guy who comes at the most random times but he has a big secret and all that."

"What's he described as? Like what does he look like?" She brings her mug to her face and you shrug, "Um. I mean, like a normal looking guy. Slightly tall-ish. Blue eyes. At first he had brown hair, then he bleaches it to blonde, what does-"

"Who's the guy you see in your dreams?"

You stare at her, "Oh shit."

She chuckles, "I don't know about you, and now when I say this, I speak from experience because I'm sure we've all have done it, but it sounds like you're experiencing fictophilia."

"What the hell is that?" You laugh slightly at the last word she said, "fictophilia?"

She nods, "Yeah, it's where people, real people like us, fall in love with fictional characters in a book."

"Can it be as strong as taking over how you feel?" You ask, tilting your head, "Because when I tell you, I could have puked from feeling guilty that night, I was-" you hold up your thump and pointed, an inch from each other, "-This close."

She shakes her head, "No, I don't think it can cause that. I think you just drank a little, too much." She smirks, "Those back to back shots definitely had something to do with it."

You sigh, closing your eyes as you nod, "Yeah, yeah no. You're probably right. I'm just definitely over thinking about it."

"And the not getting sleep will definitely play a part in that. You need to take a nap. A real nap." She smirks, "and stop being delusional."

You roll your eyes, smirking as you nod, "Yeah, yeah. I know. But these fictional men, Cami. They'll getcha."

She nods as she stands up, "No I know. I watched a movie the other day and thought about the one character for three days straight."

"See. My point exactly." She laugh as you walk her over to the door. She turns, "I don't think you're crazy. Fictional characters happen to us all."

She leans in for a hug, "But if it gets to the point to where you tell me you're dating someone who isn't real, I'm funny farming your ass."

You laugh, leaning back as you look at her, "I won't put up a fight."

You close the door after she walks out, turning around to look at your empty apartment. You flick the lock before you walk over to the couch, sitting down to switch on the tv.

You put on the show you were watching and you can't help but think about your conversation with Cami.

It felt like so much more than what you told her.

It felt too real, but you really didn't want her to think you were losing it. That you were crazy.

But you felt it.

After multiple days of trying to figure out who the guy in your dreams is and not having any clue whatsoever is maddening.

Constantly telling yourself, I'm going crazy, each time you try hard to remember his face and about lose it because you can't.

You have a feeling that he wasn't just the guy in the book.

He was so much more than that, to you, in your head at least.

But, little did you know, that he was a creature who had such a pretty face, a dark, dark soul - along with his friend.

You shake your head, laying down and getting comfortable on the couch so you can try and take a well needed nap.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You reach over the counter, smiling at the barista, "Thank you." She nods, moving on to hand out the next coffee.

You walk away, heading towards the door. You go to push it open but stumble out when someone on the outside opens it before you.

"Oh, shit." The guy lays an arm in front of you, stopping your stumble. You stand up straight, looking up at the blonde.

He smiles slightly, "Are you okay? I'm sorry. I didn't see you coming out."

You nod, laughing slightly, "Y-yeah. Yeah I'm okay. Thank you for opening the door for me." You smile at him and he shrugs, "Call it fate."

A loud thump causes you to jump awake. You sit up, slowly turning to look back over the couch. You blink a few times, trying to get your vision used to the darkness of your apartment.

You call out slight groggy, "Hello?"

No answer.

Your phone ringing causes you to jump and you let out a sigh as you look at it. You debated on not answering, mainly because you seen the movies.

You know how it goes.

But it was cami, so you answer, "Hello?"

"Hey, a bunch of us are going out tonight. Wanna join?" She asks, "We're going to bar hop." You bite your lip, quickly turning around when you feel a presence off to your left, "Uh, yeah. Yeah."

"You'll come?" She asks, excitement seeping from her words, "Great. We can all just meet up in the parking lot of your place and we can walk to Bar Eight."

"That's fine with me. I need a shower, I just woke up from a nap." You stretch your arm above your head, "you can come over whenever. I'll be here."

"I have to finish getting ready, too but I'll be over within the hour."

"Okay." You nod to yourself, "See ya." You pull the phone away from your ear and stand up. You walk over to the lamp, switching it on and from the corner of your eye, you can see a figure disappear.

"Oh fucking hell." You rub your eyes and sigh. You mentally tell yourself that it's the sleep deprivation or that you just need to distract yourself.

Maybe having people stay over after a night out will help.

You walk to the bathroom, switching the shower on and it quickly fills with steam. You undress, stepping in and sighing as the hot water washes over your body.

It feels like hands slid over your shoulders and you zone out.

You're walking down the street with Cami, having a small conversation. You're oblivious to the people walking towards you on the left side of the side walk.

Someone runs into your shoulder, knocking your purse off. It falls to the ground and some of your things spill out.

As you bend down, what you assume, is the guy who bumped into you, bends down to help you.

"Here. Let me help."

You look up, tucking hair behind your one ear as your eyes meet a guy with dark hair and blue eyes, "Oh, um. Thank you."

He nods, handing you the strap of your bag, "No need, I should watch where I'm going more often."

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that probably wouldn't be a bad idea." He stands up and holds his hand out. You felt oddly trusting of him, so you take his hand to stand up.

"I'm Colby." He smiles and you nod, "I'm y/n."

You turn around quickly, wiping the water from your face as you only remember the hands on your shoulders, "what the fuck!"

You pull the shower curtain back, peaking out as if that was the smartest thing to do, "Go away."

Nothing in response.

You lean back into the shower and fix the curtain before doing your routine. As you're rising the conditioner out of your hair, you feel like there's eyes on you.

Like someone is watching.

You finish up, quicker than you thought, and step out.

You tilt your head at the neatly folded towel on the corner of the counter and stare at it, "Did I do that?"

You think hard but can't remember.

You grab it, snapping it open so you can wrap up your hair and put the other one around your body. You open the bathroom door, and nothing else seems out of ordinary as you step out.

You turn, walking into your room and going to your closet. You shift through the hangers, finding a cute top and a pair of ripped jeans.

You toss the towel down, quickly getting dressed before taking your hair down.

A very faint, she's so pretty, causes you to snap your head towards the door, "Cami?" You slowly scrunch your hair in the towel and shake your head, it's just the tv.

After a while, there's a knock on your door and you get up to go open it, "Hey guys. Come in." You smile as Cami and your other friends walk in, greeting you with smiles.

"I just need to grab my bag then I'm ready." You walk into your room, grabbing your purse and turning to walk out when you suddenly stop.

You don't know why you stop, but you just do.

Your mind goes blank for a second and then suddenly you're walking back out to your friends like nothing just happened, "Okay. I'm ready."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"So do you come here often?"

You try not to roll your eyes at the cringey, overused pickup line, "I mean.. kind of?" You laugh slightly and sip your drink, "I only live a few minutes away."

Why would you say that? You don't know him.

Your brows furrow, "That was weird."

"What was weird?" The guy still standing infront of you asks, making you realize that you now just thought out loud, "Um, nothing. Nothing sorry. Continue."

"No." He laughs, "I like weird shit, tell me."

You sigh, smirking slightly, "Do you ever.. how do I say this." He shrugs with a smile, "Just say it."

"Do you ever feel like there's someone in your head but it's not you?" The words roll off your tongue and you instantly regret it, "Wait. No. That sounds awful."

He shakes his head, "No I know exactly what you mean."

No he doesn't.

You close your eyes, "Almost like it's someone trying to talk to you, but it's just.." you laugh, "Confusing. Weird. I don't know."

The guy nods, "I'm so glad someone else thinks the same as me."

You smile and that feeling hits again. Like you shouldn't be there. Like you're about to be sick, which can't be from the alcohol, you've only had three so far and they weren't your usual double shots.

"If you'll excuse me I need to g-" you walk away, leaving your drink at the bar. As you're walking towards the bathroom, someone steps back from the bar, too quickly for you to dodge them.

You run right into them and sigh, "Excuse you."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

You look up and a blonde guy is standing there. Something about him causes your curiosity to spike, "No.. it's fine. I was just-" you shake your head, "I'm sorry, is this is weird, but do I know you?"

He shrugs, "My name's Sam."

"Sam. Sam. Sam." You repeat to yourself a few times quietly, "No, sorry. I don't think I know a Sam."

"Hmm. Well maybe we can call it fate that you just happened to run into me like you did." He smirks and for some reason, his words cause you to straight up your posture, "first off, you weren't paying attention."

You smirk and tilt your head, "Second off, I swear we've had a conversation before. I just-"

"Can't think of it right now? That happens to me all the freaking time." He chuckles as he sips his drink, "Are you drinking?"

"I mean, I was. I left mine back there with a guy, I was on my way to the bathroom."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, are you with someone?" Sam asks and you shake your head, wanting to say yes because it really feels like it, but in reality, you're not.

"No, no. My friend just left me there and he appeared and yeah. Nothing serious, I don't even know his name."

Why are you defending yourself to someone you don't know, you think, "I'm y/n. I guess I should have told you that when you told me yours."

He smiles, "Pretty name, y/n." He motions to the bar, "Can I buy you a new one?" You smile, "I think I'd like that a lot, Sam."

You step up to the bar with him and Sam flags down the one bartender, "Whatever she wants. It can go on my tab, Golbach."

As you look up at him, you get this odd feeling of déjà vu.

"What?" He asks with a smirk and you shake your head, "You just.. remind me of someone I can't really remember."

"What?" He laughs, "Sorry, I don't mean to laugh I just-"

"No, no please laugh. I'm so awkward." You cover your face with one hand and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry." He moves your hand from your face, "I think you're beautiful."

You feel your cheeks heat up and he bites his lower lip, "Can I ask you a question?"

You nod, "Yes."

He leans in, eyes focusing onto yours, "You will answer yes to my question and not question anything else. Can you follow me to the bathroom so I can have a taste of you?"

You smile, "Yes."

"That was easy." He downs the rest of his drink and slides his hand down into yours, "Follow me, princess."

You leave your drink, mind only focusing on one thing right now and you absolutely were not questioning it.

He leads you to the back, pushing the door to the bathroom open and lets you walk in first. He follows behind you, shutting the door and locking it.

He stares at you for a few seconds, the only thing he's focused on right now is listening to your blood flow through your veins.

"You're going to taste so fucking good." He moves in front of you within a second, hands on your hips which guide you back to sit you on the sink's edge.

His eyes focus on yours again, "Don't make a sound."

All you do is nod, moving your eyes from him to the wall behind him as he dips his head down to press his lips to the side of your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed as he gently sucks a spot into your neck, tongue moving over your skin before lifting his head ever so slightly.

His grip tightens on your waist as his fangs emerge, eager to be sunk into your delicate skin.

"Ready?" Sam whispers and you nod silently. He smirks and your eyes go wide, hands sliding up and gripping the collar of his shirt as his teeth sink into your skin.

His groan is muffled by your neck and his hands pull you in closer to him.

Your hand lays on the back of his head, mouth parted in completely silence as your eyes flutter closed.

The feelings you get is pain mixed with the upmost euphoric pleasure.

As you open your eyes, you see a man leaning up against the wall, watching. You can't tell who he is, as your vision is kind of hazy.

Sam lifts his head a little, "Go away Colby."

The guy, who you presume as Colby now, chuckles, "Come on, who says you can have all the fun?" Sam stands up, licking his now red lips. He lifts a finger, wiping away the blood drop that's rolling down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

"You can have your fun later. This was my idea, so I get first dibs, remember?" Sam glances back at him and he walks up next to him, eyes on you, "She is so fucking beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Sam grips your chin, "You can talk now, but you're still not questioning anything."

You clear your throat, swallowing to relieve it from the dryness and Colby sighs, "Clean her blood up, Sam."

"Why?" Sam teases, "Smells good doesn't it?"

Colby shakes his head, "You know I don't have control like you do." Sam sighs, rolling his eyes as he wipes the blood from your neck with his thumb, "Scaredy cat."

He smears some of his blood on the open wounds, getting them to heal faster so he can cover his tracks before he brings his thumb to his lips.

You watch as he licks the red liquid from his skin, "Mm." He leans back slightly before leaning back in, his voice going quieter, "So fucking good."

He presses his lips to yours and the metallic taste of your own blood washes over your tongue.

"Alright. You gotta get her back to her friends, they're ready to go to another bar." Colby moves back, leaning against the wall and Sam nods, "Do you have any questions for me, sweetheart?"

You smile slightly, reaching out to grab his shirt with your hands, "You're coming with me."

He raises a brow, "Is that a demand?"

"Only if you want it to be." You bite your lip, staring up at him as you continue to smile at him. He sighs, "I'll find you, babe. I promise."

You nod, sliding down from the sink, "You better." As you go to walk towards the door, Colby clears his throat, "Sam."

Sam sighs, "Shit, right." Sam quickly moves between you and the door, "I promise I'll undo all of this later, but for right now.." he cups your cheeks with his hands, looking into your eyes, "Forget about what happened and what you saw. You're going to tell your friends that you used the bathroom and only remember me as Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street."

Within a blink of an eye, they're both gone and you're left standing alone in the bathroom, "Guess I'm done here."

You walk out and your friends are standing in a group by the door, "There she is. We thought you left." Cami says reaching out to grab your hand.

"No, I was just using the bathroom." You smile, "Are we going to another bar?"

Cami nods, "We're going to go hang out at Electric Avenue." You groan, "Oh my god, I love that place."

She laughs, "Then what are we waiting for?" She wraps her arm around yours and as you leave Bar Eight, you can't help but feel like you're forgetting something.

Something that happened, but you can't quite put your finger on it. That sick feeling returns, but this time it comes with heartache.

Even though you're with your friends, you feel extra lonely right now. In this moment you just want to go home, curl up in bed and cry because you're missing something so bad right now, but if anyone were to ask, you can't give them an answer that sounds sane enough for them to not laugh or think you're not crazy.

Because let's face it, the fact that you're obsessing over someone or something that you have zero knowledge about, is pretty insane.

"ID's please." The bouncer says as you walk up. You dig into your purse and pull out your wallet, slipping your id from its holder.

He checks it over, handing it back to you to move onto Cami. You wait for her by the door and when she walks through, you link your arm with hers, pretending that you're not ready to run home.

"Shots. Please!" She yells over the music and you sigh, "I'll do one, maybe two."

"We'll see." She giggles as she pulls you with her to the bar and rests her arms on the tall counter.

"Well hello ladies." The bartender walks up, "I'm Blake, anything you need I'll be happy to serve it to you."

Cami giggles, "Thank you, Blake. I think.. to start off, we'll do-" she pauses for a second, "Six teq-"

"No." You say quickly and she sighs, "Fine. Six vodka shots."

Blake smirks, "You got it." He winks at you before walking away and Cami leans in, "He is so hot." You shrug, "He's alright."

"Alright? Are we seeing the same guy? Y/n. He's into you!" She nudges your side with her elbow, "Get his number."

If he, as so little as it may seem, gets your number, I will snap his neck in front of everyone.

"No." You snap at Cami, "I'm not giving him my number. And you aren't either."

She scoffs, "Is this about the little crush you have on that character in your book because if so-"

"Cami." You roll your eyes, "no it's not about that okay." She turns towards you, leaning against the bar, "Then what's it about? Hmm."

You sigh and right as you're about to give her some bullshit answer, a guy comes up beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, "It's about me."

You look up and your mood instantly switches, "Sam! There you are."

"Here I am." He smiles as he looks down at you, "I told ya I'd meet you here."

Cami shakes her head, "Wait." She points to Sam, "Who is this and when did you meet him?"

"Cami, this is Sam Golbach. A regular guy from the bar down the street." The words seem scripted to you, but you didn't really pay attention to that.

You felt safe. Complete. Almost like this is the meaning to your obsessing and empty fantasies.

"Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were talking to that other guy?" Cami tilts her head and you scoff, "You make it sound like I'm a whore, Cami."

She laughs, "Oh god, no. No, I didn't mean it-"

"It's fine." You laugh, "He knows about the other guy I was talking to. It just.. didn't work out."

Blake comes back and delivers the six shots on the tray. His eyes move to Sam, staying on him as he speaks, "Six vodka shots."

He walks away and Sam can't help but laugh, "I don't think he likes me."

"Well maybe it's because he was eyeing up your girl before you showed up." Cami grabs a shot and looks around for the others.

She waves them down, motioning for them to come over and they do. Singing along and dancing mildly to the music that's bumping through the club.

"Heyyy. Who's this?" Your other friend asks pointing to Sam. He leans forward, "I'm Sam."

"Sam. Sam. Sam." She laughs, clearly reaching her alcohol limit, and fast, "You gonna stick around?"

Sam nods, "I mean, yeah. I planned on it. At least until one of us-" he nods towards you, "- is ready to leave."

Your friend laughs, "No, no. I meant sticking around as in dating my girl here." Sam's brows raise and he nods, "I mean, yeah. Yeah. I plan on it, I mean. That's if she wants me to."

Your arm tightens around his waist and he smiles, "I think that's a yes." You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. As you're standing there, waiting for the shots to be distributed, you spot another oddly familiar face.

"Who's that guy over there?" You ask pointing across the bar. Sam leans down, "Which one, sweetheart?" You lean over slightly, "The guy next to the girl in the pink top."

"Oh that's Colby." Sam turns his head to look into your eyes, "You recognize him from back at the bar, he's a good friend of mine." Sam looks at you and you nod, "Oh okay. Yeah that makes sense. Maybe I do remember him."

Sam smiles and kisses your temple. He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, remembering what your blood tasted like on his tongue.

His hand grips your hip tight, loosening as he takes a shot glass from Cami, "Thank you."

You take yours and wait for Cami to tap hers against the bar. Everyone follows, tapping each glass against the wood before knocking them back.

Everyone cheers, pulling each other onto the dance floor. Sam takes your hand into his, pull you with him before spinning you around to press his chest against your back.

His hands slide down, gripping your waist as you move to the beat of the song. Your head rests back onto his shoulder and he rests his cheek against yours.

Your arm slides up, wrapping around his neck and you spin around to face him, your other arm moving up to interlock your hands behind his head.

"You're so beautiful." Sam says which causes you to smile. He brushes hair from your neck, subtly inspecting the now healed bite mark. He lick his lips, tilting his head as his eyes meet yours again.

"Does your friend need a dancing partner? I can send Cami over to talk to him?" You tilt your head and Sam chuckles, "Nah, I think he'll be alright."

"Girlfriend?" You ask and Sam shakes his head, "No."

"Oh, is he gay? My friend Curtis ca-."

Sam laughs, "No, no. He's not. He just.." he brushes hair from your face, "He has his eye on someone very special already."

"Good for him." You smile, pulling Sam closer. Sam nods, "Yeah, it really will be good for him." He leans in, lips connecting with yours and its sparks.

Bright sparks, hell. Those are fireworks.

"I don't want to leave you." You admit, "Sorry if that w-"

"I don't want to leave you, either." Sam cuts you off, lips connecting right back with yours. You lay your hand on the back of his back, sliding the other one down his chest and pushing away from him, "They're all coming back to my place, so I hope that doesn't change anything."

Sam shakes his head, "doesn't change a thing, baby."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You giggle slightly to yourself as you dig for your keys, "I hope I grabbed them."

"I'm sure they're in there." Sam says giving you a smile. Cami pushes between the two of you, "Do you have them?"

Sam glances at her and back to you, "She's looking for them."

You look up at her, "Can you move your head, you're blocking the light." You try not to laugh but fail, causing her to laugh which spreads throughout everyone else.

Sam shakes his head and you pull out your keys, jingling them as you look back, "Found them."

They all cheer and you unlock the door, pushing it open before you drag Sam in with you.

You set your bag and keys on the counter before turning to face Sam, "Do you need a drink or anything?"

He licks his lips, brushing hair from your neck, "I do, but I'll get it then."

"I can get it fo-"

He cuts you off, "I'm fine, sweetheart." He smiles, "Come on, let's go sit." He takes your hand into yours and pulls you towards the couch.

You sit on his lap, looking back at Cami and your other friends who are raiding your fridge. She gives you a look and nods towards your room.

She walks over stopping at the door way, "Y/n, can you come help me unzip my dress."

You look back at her, "Oh yeah." You get up, sliding your hand along Sam's shoulders as you walk around the couch.

Cami pulls you into your room and shuts the door, her voice is quiet, "Don't you think.. Sam is.." she trails off and you tilt your head, "Sam is? What, Cami?"

She waves her hands in a circle, "I don't know, he seems a bit.. controlling."

You laugh slightly, "What do you mean?"

"The way he just pulled you over to the couch, I mean you were just trying to offer him a drink." She shrugs, "I don't know, it just.. you just met him, we just met him, and he's already back at your place?"

"I don't understand what you're saying? You do this all the time, cami." You cross your arms, "Do you want me to kick him out?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all, y/n. I'm just saying that I get a really weird vibe from him, he just.. he seems cold." She shrugs, sighing as she turns around, "Can you unzip me quick, though please?"

You roll your eyes, reaching up to quickly unzip the dress, "I know you're just trying to look out for me, but something about him just feels.. right."

She turns around, leaning down to grab her bag, "ultimately it's your choice at the end of the day, but I'm just saying be careful. I just didn't like the way he drug you over to the couch."

"I think you're being a little dramatic." You laugh, "Now change, and come out so we can watch a movie."

You walk over to your door, opening it to walk back over to the couch. Sam greets you with open arms as you sit back down on his lap, "Everything okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, her zipper was just stuck in some loose string from her dress."

You didn't have to lie, Sam already heard everything.

"Dress okay?" He asks and you nod. He plants a kiss to your cheek, "Good."

Cami walks back out, coming over to sit next to you, "So, what movie are we watching?"

"Something funny. Oh!" Cami snaps, "Why don't we watch Vampires Suck? Have you seen it?"

"Isn't that the movie that's based off of Twilight? Doesn't actually suck?" One of your friends say, and Cami nods with a smirk as she leans forward to grab the remote, "Yes, it is, and it's supposed to suck on purpose. That's the whole point."

Sam chuckles shaking his head, the thought of watching a bad vampire movie was so cliche to him.

Cami turns his head, leaning out to look at him, "Is that alright with you?"

He looks at Cami and nods, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Cami." You sigh, "Just play the stupid movie." She sighs quietly and presses play, tossing the remote down next to her.

A little bit into the movie, you lean in to Sam, "I'll be right back, I have to go to the bathroom." He nods, giving you a smile as you get up.

You walk to the bathroom closing the door and as you look at yourself in the mirror, your mind shifts from Sam and you zone out.

"You're just.." Colby smiles, brushing hair from your face, "So pretty."

You smile, a blush rising onto your cheeks, "Thank you, Colby." He leans in, "I've honestly never come across anyone as pretty as you."

"Okay, now you're just saying stuff." You laugh and he shakes his head, "No, I'm not. I'm being serious. I've seen hundreds of faces, and yours is my favorite one of all."

You look away, laughing slyly, "Colby."

He grips your chin, turning your head back to face him, "I'm being so serious right now. I'd risk fighting Lucifer himself to be with you."

"Lucifer?" You question and Sam's voice pops up, "Colby. That's enough. Knock it off."

You look around, unable to spot Sam..

Your eyes focus on your figure in the mirror, blinking a few times before you continue to do what you went in there for.

You open the door, flicking the lights off as you walk out.

"Hey I think I'm going to head out." You look up at your friend as you sit down next to Sam and Cami, "Are you good to drive?"

They nod, "Oh yeah, I feel fine. I'll text you when I get home."

"Okay. Be careful." You smile and they nod as they walk out.

A little bit later, two more friends leave, then another one, leaving you with just Sam and Cami.

"Is it just me, or were they acting kind of weird?" You look between them and Sam shrugs, "I know they were getting tired, probably didn't want to have to sleep on the floor." He teases them reassures you, "I think they were good."

Cami yawns and stretches as she leans forward, "Yeah, I think I'm going to head home. I forgot I had an appointment early in the morning."

"But it's Saturday?" You question and she shrugs, "Yeah. There's one that has certain hours."

"Oh." You nod, "Okay." Your eyes follow her as she gets up, walking over to grab her back, "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Yeah, okay. Love you, too." You watch her shut the door and then you slowly look over at Sam, "That was so weird."

"Maybe they just settled down, got tired from the alcohol?" Sam suggests and you shrug, "I mean, yeah. You're right." You laugh, "Sorry I'm just-"

There's another thump, almost like the same one at earlier on in the day.

"That happened earlier." You look back, "Hello?"

"Maybe it's your neighbors?" Sam stands up, "I'll go check, maybe someone else did leave."

You nod, turning around to watch as he walks back to check the rooms. He comes out of your room and shakes his head, "No one's here."

You nod, continuing to watch as he then gets this annoyed look on his face and he sighs, "Fine."

"Sam?" You slowly get up, "Who are you talking to?"

"No one, I just-" he laughs, "I have something to tell you."

Your heart starts racing and you feel like your chest gets heavy, "Oh god." Your mind starts racing through every single idea that could potentially happen.

He had a plan this whole time. Gain your trust, get your alone, murder you.

He chuckles, "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not going to murder you."

Your head snaps towards him and you point, "H-how did you-"

"I can read your mind."

His words catch you off guard, "Y0u ju- you can r-" he pause, closing your eyes as you rest your forehead in your hand, "What the fuck is hap-"

You look up, gasping when Sam is right in front of you, "Shit." You go to step back but Sam grabs your wrist.

As scared as you want to be, when he touches you, it's like all your fear washes away and you want to do anything in your power to keep him with you.

"Listen to me." Sam's voice is soft, "I have to tell you something, but I need you to not freak out." He looks into your eyes, "Okay?"

You nod your head, "Y-yeah. I guess I can try."

"Come." He motions towards the couch, "Have a seat."

You walk over, sitting down. You turn your body towards him and rest your hands in your lap. Sam leans back, casually extending his arm over the back, "I made your friends go home."

"Huh?" You tilt your head, "What do you mean you made them leave?"

He shrugs, "Because we were getting impatient and they were just being massive cockblocks."

You sit in silence as you try to process his words, "We?"

Sam nods, "Yeah, remember Colby from the bar?" You nod slowly, "um, yeah. Yes." Sam nods, "Well he's here, too."

You whip around, looking for him, but you don't see him, "Where?" You turn back around, heart racing faster, "Why is he here, too?"

Sam stares at your chest, biting his lip as he pushes the thirst for your blood out of his mind, "You can't see him, he's hiding himself."

"Hiding himself?" You run your hand through your hair, breathing out a quiet, "Fuck."

After a moment of silence, Sam speaks up, "Do you want to know what happened at the bar?"

"I know what happened at the bar. I met you, we talked had a drink, I went to the bathroom then came out and walked with my friends down the street to another club." You look at him and he smirks, "No, sweetheart. Do you want to know what really happened?"

"What really happened?" You question and Sam leans forward, looking into your eyes, "When you remember, you won't make a big deal about it."

You nod and Sam tilts his head, eyes still on yours, "Remember."

You freeze as your mind plays what actually happened at Bar Eight.

Sam compelling you to say yes to his question. Following Sam to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the sink and being told not to make a sound.

His teeth sinking into your neck and you can almost feel the pleasured pain he caused you as he sucked your blood from your neck.

Colby emerging from behind Sam as your vision goes hazy.

Everything flows if, filling the cracks with missing information and you're left speechless.

You blink, your eyes moving to look at Sam. The only words you can form leave you more shocked as they leave your lips, "Y-you're.. a vampire?"

Sam smiles, nodding his head as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Correct."

"And Colby?" You raise your brows and Sam tilts his head, "He's a demon."

"A de-" you shake your head, "No. I'm dreaming I can't- this can't be real." You stand up, placing one hand on your forehead and the other on your hip, "I'm having a really, really weird dream."

"Hate to break it to ya, babe." Colby's voice startles you as he walks around from behind you. You jump, stepping back as you look at him. He holds his hand out, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya."

He chuckles, "But you're not dreaming. You're awake, and we're here."

You slide your hand down, resting your fingers over your lips and your mind starts racking up questions.

"Yes, we're why you felt guilty after going to Tara's party." Colby nods, "And why you felt so obsessed over, well.. nothing really."

"It wasn't really nothing, y/n. We made it so you were, what? Colby. I don't even know what you'd call it." Sam looks to Colby and Colby purses his lips, "Mm."

He snaps his fingers and looks to you, "Love sick."

"We made you love us, without even knowing us. That's why you felt so comfortable with me at the bar, we'd basically manipulate your dreams so you'd know who we were, but someone.." Sam trails off, glaring at Colby before looking back to you, "Thought it would be best if we made it so you couldn't remember when you woke up."

You can feel your legs shaking below you, "And the making me do things? What.. what's that?"

"Oh the compulsion?" Sam nods, "Yeah, that's my favorite thing about being a vampire." He laughs, "I can make anyone do anything I wanted."

"So you.. compelled me.. to.." you point to your neck and he nods, "Yes."

"Why?" You stare at him and he shrugs, "Come on, if a stranger came up to you and said follow me to the bathroom, I want to bite your neck and drink your blood, would you have honestly, willingly gone with?"

"I mean, no but- wait." You point to Colby, "You don't like my blood?"

He sighs, "Ah, yeah. That."

"He could rip you apart if he really wanted to." Sam laughs and Colby rolls his eyes, "So could you, Sam."

Sam nod, leaning back to bring one of his legs up to least on his other one, "That's true. I could tear you apart if I wanted."

Sam is in front of you within the blink of an eye and you lean back slightly. His arm snakes around your wait, hand planting on the small of your back, "But I think you are just.. the sweetest thing."

There is absolutely no fear in your body, and they both know it.

"Why me?" You ask, your breathing growing faster as Sam slides his other hand up your arm to push your hair out of the way, "Why not you?"

His fingers run over the spot he had previously drank from before, "You have such a pretty face, on a pretty neck. You drive me crazy."

He leans in, lips gently pressing against your skin before tilting his head up, "Tell me you don't want me right now. Tell me you don't want us.. right now."

"I-I." You gasp as you feel Colby appear behind you, his hands sliding onto your waist. You bite down on your lip, "Are you going to hurt me?"

"Not unless you want us to, baby." Colby chuckles, "We're here to pleasure you. Make you feel things you've never even thought of feeling."

Colby presses his chest against your back and Sam tilts his head, "We don't take orders from anyone.." his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, "But you."

A rush of excitement washes over you and they both chuckle, "she's excited." Colby whispers, "I can feel it."

"This is so fucking weird." You laugh, still slightly in shock, "Oh my god."

"What do you say, sweetheart." Sam looks into your eyes, "Will you let us be your sickening desire?"

Your lips part open as Colby's lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your neck.

You had to admit, the devils voice is so sweet to hear.

Along with them being pretty cute for being, what others would consider monsters.

"You think we're cute?" Sam teases and you sigh, "My thoughts aren't safe anymore are they?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not at all, babe."

"You share them with us now." Colby whispers, "So are you going to answer Sam's question. Are you going to let us show you what an exhilarating ride it is to dance with the devil?"

After taking a moment to think, your eyes meet Sam's and you nod, "Take me."

"As you wish." He lifts you up, walking over to the couch, "But before we start. Can I have that drink now?"

"So that's what you meant?" You bite your lip and he nods, "Uh huh. Exactly." He looks over at Colby and when you look over at him, he's gone.

Sam turns your chin back towards him, "He's not too far off." He winks and slides his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him as he leans up, mouth close to your neck.

Your hands grip the collar of his shirt, preparing for the initial piercing of your skin.

"Tell me when. You call the shots." Sam whispers and you nod, "Go."

You let out a whine, tilting your head to the side as his fangs sink into your neck.

Your fists tighten with his collar still balled up in them, and a moan slips through. Sam wraps tightens his arm around your waist, groaning against your neck.

The euphoric feelings rushes in, causing your arousal to spike.

You need him, and you needed him bad.

Your mind dances off onto the topic of Colby, thinking about how good he looks in the black leather jacket.

How his dark demeanor intimidates you, but also turns you on more than anything.

"Fucking hell, babe. You taste fucking good." Sam leans back, fangs still out as his licks the blood from his lips.

Your eyes gaze over his face as you slide a hand up, wiping away a bead of blood that's getting ready to drip. You drag your finger up his chin, slowly placing it in his mouth and you gasp when his lips wrap around it, sucking your flood off your finger.

"I know I should be scared but.." you bite your lip, pulling your finger from his lips, "I'm not."

"We don't want you to be scared." Sam whispers, "We love you."

Without any hesitation, "I love you both."

"That's the way we want it." He smirks, looking over your shoulder, "You good, Colbs?"

"Oh yeah." Colby answers from behind, "Clean her up. I want my turn with her." Sam smirks and licks his lips again before leaning forward.

A shiver goes down your spine from Colby's words and Sam's tongue gliding over the fresh puncture wounds.

A little whimper leaves your lips, "Please."

"Soon baby." Both say in unison.

"Stand up for me, princess." Sam says and you stand up, slightly wobbly. Colby moves behind you, sweeping you off your feet, "You'll get used to that the more it happens."

You stare up at him, captivated by how a demon can look so pretty.

"I'm not in my true form, sweetheart." Colby smirks, walking you into your room, "Maybe one day I'll show you."

"What do you look like?" You ask and Colby lays you on the bed, "Let's not talk about that right now." He licks his lips, pressing them to yours.

Your hands move to his neck, moaning quietly against them. He slides a hand down, slipping it under your shirt, earning a moan as he toys with your nipple.

You tilt your head back, arching your back as he pinches a bit harder.

You wonder where Sam is, and he instantly appears next to you, "I'm right here, princess." He smirks down at you and you bite down on your lip.

You had so many emotions flooding through your mind and body.

You have never, never felt like this before and that was part of their goal.

Colby slips his hand out, gripping your shirt at the top and tearing it with a smooth glide, exposing your chest, "Mm. Naughty girl, not wearing a bra."

You bite your lip, looking down at him and he smirks, "I like it better when you don't." He winks and leans down, attaching his lips to one nipples while his fingers find the other.

A moan leaves your lips as you lay a hand on the back of his head, "Fuck."

Sam leans down slightly, laying a hand on your head and brushing it over your hair, "We've been watching you for a while now. Did you know that?"

"N-no." You whimper and Sam chuckles, "Of course not. We didn't want to make you love sick, we just needed a way to make you ours before we told you who we truly are."

Colby leans up, "You're the only sense of humanity we have."

"Really?" You look from him to Sam and Sam nods, "Really." You look back to Colby as you feel your jeans being unbuttoned. You lift your hips, eager for them to be off quicker.

Sam stands up, unbuttoning his shirt as Colby works on undressing you fully, "Shit, this is so fucking hot."

Colby smirks, chuckling as he slides his hands up your bare legs, stopping at the band of your panties, "You're more than ready for us, aren't you?"

You nod quickly, "Yes." You move your hips up and down, "yes."

"Taste her, Colby." Sam commands and with that, your panties are ripped from your body, tossed like nothing to the floor.

"Fuck." Colby groans, quickly getting into position with his head between your thighs. Your lips part as you watch his inch closer to you, biting down on your lip when he glances up at you.

He closes the space, his tongue gliding up and down your folds, groaning against you as he finally tastes what he's been anticipating.

Sam's eyes are heavily focused on Colby, watching as he eats you out, "Fuck." He whispers, hand sliding down to palm himself.

You slide your arm towards him while placing your other hand on Colby's head, moaning as your back arches, "S-Sam."

Sam's eyes move to you, instantly picking up on what you want to do for him. He discards his pants, his boxers quickly following, leaving him naked as he climbs on the bed.

He sits on his knee, resting back on his calves as he reaches down. His fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it to wrap around his cock.

He lets out a relieving moan, bucking his hips as you squeeze and gently stroke him up and down, "F-fuck."

His chest rises and falls quickly as his eyes watch you touch him.

You look over, locking eyes with him as you moan. He focuses on yours, "Cum."

Your body tenses up as a wave of absolute pressure washes over your body, screaming out as you tug on Colby's hair, which earns a deep groan from him.

"That's it, princess." Sam moans, "Fuck."

You catch your breath, watching as Colby sits up. He moves up, attaching his lips to yours and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue that moves against yours.

Sam grabs your wrist, pulling it away from him as he moves to the end of the bed. Once Colby climbs off, Sam grabs your ankles, easily pulling you down so your legs hang down.

You watch as Sam drops to his knees, hooking his arms under your knees as he moves in. His tongue slips into you, groaning as you gasp, "Sh-it."

Colby gets onto the bed, biting his lip as he watches you take his cock into your hand without being told, "Such a good girl." He reaches down, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

You part them, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking. He tilts his head, watching the sight below him.

He looks down at Sam, watching him devour you before looking back, "Use your mouth, baby."

You comply, you don't need any kind of compulsion to do anything.

It's all you.

You push his thumb out of your mouth with your tongue, lifting your head to allow the tip of his cock to replace it.

He gasps, moaning as he lays a hand on the back of your head, "More, baby. Take more of me."

You swirl your tongue, coating him in saliva before you push your head onto him more. You moan around him as Sam slips a finger into your soaked cunt, tongue swirling around your clit.

Colby fights to keep his eyes open, "Shit." He pushes your head down, holding it there as he thrusts his hips, "Doing so fucking good."

Your back arches and your moans are muffled. Colby holds still, allowing you to have control again.

You bob your head, pausing as Sam slips another finger in, curling them slowly as he sucks your clit.

"Fuck." Colby glances down at Sam and back to you, brushing hair from your face. You tilt your head back, taking a deep breath as you moan loudly.

Colby moves back a little, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Cum."

You whimper as your orgasm rushes in again, ripping loud moans and screams from your throat as you cum around Sam's fingers.

"Does that feel good?" Colby asks stroking his hand over your hair, "Looks like it does."

"Yesyesyes!" You scream out, "Fuck yes!"

Sam pulls his fingers out, standing up to lean down over you. Your eyes lock into his as he slips his two fingers into your mouth, "lick them clean for me."

Your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking them clean like he said. He drags them out, pulling your bottom lip down slightly as he leans down to kiss where he bit a not, too long ago.

He reaches up, gripping your chin as he studies your face, "I want to drink from you while Colby fucks you from behind."

You nod, "P-please, Sam."

"You don't have to beg, princess. Not this time." He smirks and stands up, walking around to lay on the bed, "Come here."

You sit up, turning around to crawl up the bed, straddling his lap. Colby moves behind you, hands on your hips as you lean down to connect your lips with Sam's.

You feel spit run down over your center, followed by Colby's cock rubbing it in before slipping the tip of his cock in.

You gasp into Sam's mouth and both of their hands hold your body still, "Feel good?" Sam asks lowly and you nod, eyes closed as you moan, "So good."

Sam kisses down the front of your neck, licking back up to under your jaw, "Think you can take both of us at once?"

His words surprise you and he chuckles, "Only if you want to try of course."

Colby pushes his cock into you, groaning as his fingers dig into your hips, "Shit." He bites down on his lip, slowly pulling out before starting to thrust at a slow pace.

You moan, looking down at Sam. He watches your face scrunch up as he slides his hand up to your neck, slowly squeezing.

"fuck, I can't fight it anymore." Sam groans as he pulls your hair back into a make shift ponytail, holding it with his hand, "Stay as still as you can for me, okay?"

You whimper in response, moaning from Colby's cock thrusting in and out of you.

Sam licks his lips, tilting his head to get to the side he hasn't bit yet. He pulls you in close and sinks his fangs into your neck.

You let out a small yelp, quickly covering it up with a loud moan. You fist the sheets next to Sam, pulling in them as you try to stay as still as you can.

Colby's grip on your hips is tight enough to where you know you'll have small round bruises from his fingers digging into your skin.

Sam sucks your neck, moaning lowly as lifts his head slightly. His eyes flick down to your neck, "I'll never get enough of you."

"I'm yours." You moan out quietly, "Both of yours."

"Who do you belong to?" Colby asks, "Say it louder."

Sam reconnects his mouth to your neck, making your vision go blurry, "Y-yours." You moan, screaming out, "Both, I belong to you both."

"That's our girl." Colby groans, "Our fucking girl."

Sam lifts his head, licking your neck clean and lays his head back. You stare down at him as Colby's thrusts come to a stop.

Sam reaches down, grabbing his cock to slide it into your cunt along with Colby's.

You let out a whimper as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate them both, "F-fuck." You hang your head down, whimpering as they both start to thrust, quickly finding a pace.

Sam slides his hand back up, cupping your cheek, "Tell us how good you feel."

"So.. fucking.." you gasp, "Good!"

"Do you want to cum?" Colby asks and you answer him immediately, "Yes, yes. So bad." A string of whines and moans leave your lips non-stop.

"Little bit longer baby." Colby rubs his hand up and down your back, "Doing so good for us."

Your eyes scan quickly over Sam's face. There's just something about the blood covering his chin that turns you on even more.

"Thank you." He groans out with a smirk. You smile, biting your lip as your brows furrow, "Oh fuck. Fuck."

"Think she's had enough, Colbs?" Sam asked eyes not leaving your face.

"She's earned a break." Colby answers and Sam pinches your chin between his pointer and thumb, "Look at me, princess."

You open your eyes and he locks his onto yours, "Cum."

Pleasure washes over you, causing your body to shake as it feels much more powerful than the last two orgasms you had.

You feel their cocks slip out of you and you cling to Sam, moaning and whining as you work your way through your high.

"That's it, baby. That's it." Sam whispers as he plants kisses on your face, leaving little spots of blood.

You slowly relax, breathing heavy as you roll off of Sam to lay on the bed.

"You know. You look so cute with blood on your face." Sam leans over and smiles down at you. You laugh slightly, too tired to even care.

You feel someone one wiping you off and Sam comes back with a clean face and something to wipe yours off with.

You didn't think they would do this, you thought they were just going to have their way with you and leave.

"Just because we're labeled as not good doesn't mean we don't care about the aftercare part." Colby smirks slightly and you smile, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You have a lot to learn." He winks and pulls the blankets up over your legs, "And yeah, that means we aren't going anywhere."

"Mhm. We claimed you." Sam says lying next to you, he brushes hair from your face, "so does it all make sense now?"

You nod, looking between them, "oh yeah. Everything is so much clearer now."

"You're still in shock aren't you?" Colby asks and you bat the air, "not at all." He raises a brow and tilts his head, "We can tell how you're feeling, babe. No need to lie."

You sigh, "Okay, fine. Maybe a little bit."

Colby lays next to you on your other side and rubs your arm, "Do you have any questions for us?"

"Were those thuds I heard earlier, you guys?" You ask as you pull the blanket up a little more. Sam laugh, "Yeah, that was Colby accidentally knocking stuff over."

You laugh, "This is just.." you sigh, "I'm sure I have more questions, I just.. my brain right now is so scrambled."

"You're fine, princess." Sam smiles, "You need rest."

"Will you be here in the morning?" You ask and look between them. Sam nods and Colby smiles, "We're always with you."

Sam smirks, "You have claim on us now."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did and let me tell you, it was A LOT. So let me know how I did!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken

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hells-wasabii · 3 months

Note

Hey!! I had an Adam request for Hazbin Hotel. If possible, could it be a mixture of headcanon and drabble? If not, just drabble, please!!

So imagine if Adam had escaped before being killed by Nifty, and is still incredibly hurt. The angels had left, thinking he had died, leaving him behind. Then demon reader finds him bleeding out, and despite knowing who he is and what he's done to their kind, they still help him and let him stay at their apartment to heal properly, and hopefully tries to change his mind on Hell and other demons.

Gn reader would be great, if you could please! - 🍋

Howdy hey! I'm really glad you asked for a half and half, I don't think i'd be able to delve into this request proper. Also, adam is seriously growing on me. I got to work on my requests today later than i would've liked though, so I'll try to make up for lost time

Character: Adam

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (injured!Adam x sinner!reader, Angst, Fluff)

Adam, despite what you might think, fully understands the severity of the situation. He knows that he's royally fucked, especially if he happens across the wrong demon. He also knows that heaven’s not coming for him. The fact that what was left of his army had retreated was testament enough that they believed him to be dead.

Yeah, he might’ve escaped with his life but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Could you imagine what could happen if he ran into somebody with a grudge against him specifically? It wasn't like he was subtle about his identity at the moment, covered in golden blood, oh, and of course, the wings were a dead giveaway.

So when the very first man collapsed in some dirty alley way he thought he was done for. That was where he met you. You were an anomaly to Adam. Why would you, a sinner, help him of all people? He figured that you just didn’t know who he was as you took him back to your home to help him heal. That assumption didn’t last long, though, you called him by his name so you definitely knew who he was.

When you’re helping him heal, offering up your apartment as a place for him to recuperate, he’s gonna be bitching about it the whole time. You knew who he was, so now there was no way he’d let you forget he was the first man and how absurd it was that he was left like this. He’d complain about any little thing too, he’s used to a life of comfort, used to getting what he wants when he wants it. And you’d best believe you’re going to hear about how he hasn’t gotten laid since getting stuck down in hell.

Adam couldn’t believe it as he stared at the calendar hung on the wall of your dingy apartment. Despite all the slack he’s given you, the first man had long since decided that maybe you weren’t so bad for some loser sinner. The last of his wounds were healed now, something he had you to thank for. Bones were set properly, and he’d even been able to stave off infections under your care.

The angel was grateful. He really was. And as uncommon as it was, he wanted to show you just how grateful he was. You had gone off somewhere, work you said, but he wasn’t sure what you did for work now that he thought about it. You had probably mentioned it early on in his stay, but at that point, he didn’t really listen to much of what you said.

So, he decided to make you something to eat, you should be back in an hour anyway.

Simple enough, right? There was some pasta in the cupboards, he’d start with that.

Oh, you were gonna be so impressed! After all, you were going to eat a meal prepared by the first man here! This surprise totally-not-a-date-even-though-he-maybe-wanted-it-to-be dinner was going to rock!

...

In his defense, he had been left alone. You were pretty lucky to have gotten home when you did, or you were sure your kitchen would've been burnt down. You sighed, turning to the angel who was making a rather convincing impression of a kicked puppy. Instead of scolding him, you offer a small smile. "Why don't we just get takeout?"

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #adam x reader #adam hazbin hotel

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eydi-andrius · 11 months

Text

Cruel Existence (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

summary: Gojo broke up with you a week ago. Trying to forget him, you invited your friends to a night out. It was fun while it lasted, until you realized that you never went home to your own place. In fact, you were sleeping soundly on his bed.

cw/tw: angst, hurt, pain, mentions of break up, regret, mentions of drinking until one passes out (please don't do this), trespassing

a/n: this was fun to write. I hope you like it. Again, as much as I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs motivates me better. Thank you!

🐈

It is wild how the stranger you once met becomes the most important person in your life.

Then for one day, life decided to make that person a stranger again.

Some may argue that no, they're not strangers anymore.

However if you think about it, a person who isn't in your life is nothing but a mere stranger.

His memories may be there, and it must have been your greatest treasure. Yet, it doesn't erase the fact that it wasn't them anymore.

Each day, the knife twists deeper, sharper and deadlier the more you think about the what ifs and the whatnots.

It's like a deadly poison slivering inside your vein. Memories turn lethal and invasive. You begged for them to just stop and let you breathe.

You prayed every night for it to be over. As you close your eyes, you wish that the morning will make you feel renewed and the person you once were.

How cruel life can be when all you wanted was to be loved.

Gojo had found you first. Maybe that explains a lot why he ended it in the first place.

"Look at this girl. She called us to drink her sorrows away but she was just holding her beer and staring from afar." Iori called you out. Then, rolled her eyes in annoyance. You gave her a chuckle and muttered an apology.

If she did not call your name, you will probably think about what you did wrong and why he ended your relationship that way. He looks tired, fed up when you ask why. He wasn't the same Satoru to whom you knew. It was true that he could be cold-hearted at times but he never acted that way towards you.

That should have been a red flag but that action had made a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You almost thought you were special.

You bit your lips as you felt another tear wanting to come out and spill your pain in front of your friends again. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes, you tried your best to stop it.

You called and invited them to forget him. It has been a week. It shouldn't bother you as much anymore. He probably had been enjoying his single life. The pain of being pursued and being rejected after achieving your goal was something you had been trying your best not to overthink about. It might be true, but it wasn't healthy to soak through the scenarios and what ifs you knew nothing about.

It will just kill you inside and there will be no reprieve for it.

Attention and awareness finally came back to what you were doing, and so you looked around. The bar was loud. Blinking lights and the alcohol were giving everyone a false sense of confidence as they danced and socialized on the crowded dance floor. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Now, you kinda felt bad that your friends were just sitting inside the private booth with you. Especially, when all of these independent ladies had been through a tough week doing their work. You felt bad wasting their time to watch you mopping and crying over a man they already told you to be wary about.

"I know what you were thinking. And no, I'd rather sit here and join you into drinking your heart out than be with those strangers. Drink up!" Mei mei raised her eyebrows and tapped your pint. She's always so impressive at reading people. Sometimes you wonder if you had said your thoughts aloud with how accurate her words were, at times.

Heart filled with warmth, with how loving your friends were, you stood up and hugged them all. Shoko who remained quiet and sitted patted your back in reassurance after returning your big hug.

It was probably harder for her to hear what happened. She was close to Gojo. You just hoped she wouldn't be planning his murder though. She may be quiet but when angry, she can be more intense than these two.

Anyway, enough thinking about your ex-boyfriend now! These hot ladies gave you their precious free time so might as well use it wisely and to full extent.

You basically had dragged the three in the middle of the dance floor and showed them your moves, which was nonexistent, so you earned a mocking and hysterical laughter from them. Yet, it did not take long for them to follow suit and even challenge you to a dance battle.

The night was filled with laughter, and for once, during that grueling week, you forgot why you were crying and had to lie about your puffy eyes.

🐈

The pain in your head was intolerable. You had been awake for quite some time now but you cannot even lift your eyelids on how painful it was. You groaned. You moaned. You breathed in and out to make it better but the beating of the unbearable pain seems to get worse.

Well, it was true what they said, it had been fun while it lasted.

Last night was a blast. No one can stop the four of you as you claimed the stage and did your greatest night out. You felt the rush of freedom and so you did not stop taking shots after shots. The consequences were pushed back in the deepest part of your brain. And for once, you let your wild side out in public.

You were probably so wasted but at least managed to get home safe. The proof was the soft mattress of your bed. Your fresh sheet enveloping your exhausted body to a warm embrace while the air conditioner blows the perfect amount of cold. This atmosphere should have pulled you back to sleep, if it weren't for this godforsaken headache. Gosh, you wanted so bad to go back to sleep. But you are in pain, needing to pee and calm your growling hunger. You can even feel the vile gastric threatening to come up due to your empty stomach.

"How long do you plan to sleep on my bed?"

Familiar voice had spoken close to you and your body reacted way too fast. You sat up and opened your eyes. Leaning on the doorway was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru. His blue eyes are neutral but his face says he was pissed.

His hair was damp. Droplets were even falling from it but he wore a white towel around his neck to prevent it from cascading further down to his body. He was half naked, only wearing an untied sweats that was hanging way too low for your comfort. Normally, you would say he was hot. But that was not the most important thing right now.

"What do you think you are doing inside my room-!?" In surprise, you yelled but were met by your very hoarse voice. You even ended up violently coughing and wheezing with how dry your throat was. It was as if you did a 24 hour karaoke with your friends or you competed at a screaming contest.

"Maybe before you groaned and moaned to someone else's bed, make sure you were actually on your bed." He tuts and moves towards where you were sitting. You felt a cold metal placed on your forehead and you sighed in relief. Even though it gave you a quick relief, it only happened for a second.

The pain, forgotten for a moment of shock, was now back twice ruthless. Your head was swimming in pain and you felt lightheaded. You left out a loud burp and you felt the hand, holding the can on your forehead, maneuvered fast to pick up the bucket placed methodically on his bedside. The respect you had for this man for preparing this much so he would be able to stop you if you plan to puke all over his place as revenge.

You wretched as if there was no tomorrow. All contents from last night probably had been vomited earlier because you felt only the acid of vile as it pushes whatever was still left inside of you. Heaving, you accepted the water he provided and gargled the last remaining content of puke in your mouth. You cleaned up using the back of your hand and leaned at the nearby chair while you were still sitting on his bed.

This is probably your year's nightmare. Drinking a lot for the first time, losing your friends by walking to someone else's house and worse, sleeping on your ex's bed and thinking it was so comfortable and homey earlier.

While you were thinking and regretting what you had done, you heard the scraping of the table being pulled closer to where you sat. His presence near you again. The clang of utensils, the sound of the lid being opened and plastic wrappers being crumpled and thrown had almost lull you to sleep when you felt a soft tap of his familiar hand on your shoulder.

With a blink, you straightened up and looked at the store bought food, placed in front of you.

It was cup noodles, a bottle of water and ibuprofen, placed on the side. The cold can of coffee just above it.

"Eat up or you will feel shittier than you are right now." He said more like an order and just stood in front of you with arms crossed.

You gulped and tried your best to eat but your hair kept on falling down and dipping on the cup noodles. You were already aware that you smelled like vomit, who could even imagine you can also smell like cup noodles. With a groan of frustration, you collected your hair on the side and was about to eat again when you felt his hand run through your hair.

He mumbled a soft "Let me." and with practiced moves, he was able to tie your hair with a hair tie. He used to do this a lot when you decided not to cut your hair shorter so you can donate it. He was so sweet and attentive when you were still together and this action of concern was not helping your case.

You sat and ate in silence while he stood there for a while and decided it was too awkward and he left you alone. He closed the door as softly as he could. Once you were sure he was gone, you gave out an empty scream and slapped your face multiple times. The pain, embarrassment, and anger were all mixed up as you felt it rise within you.

With a frustrated groan, you bite your lip and pray that this nightmare was all a dream. But you know better. Eyes staring at the familiar ceiling, you sighed. The room is engulfed with quiet except for your ragged breathing, indiciating, how sick you are.

The silence did not last long when you remembered your phone and frantically looked for it. You saw it placed properly on the nearby stool and almost cried when you saw the numerous texts and calls from your friends. Ranging from the early hours of the day and right now, it was asking for the same thing; where were you? or are you okay?.

Nervous, you tried your best to reply even with shaking hands and once you hit send, they immediately saw it and called.

The call was filled with screams of terror and relief that you were okay. But once they calmed down, you were able to talk to them properly. They even answered the gnawing question you had been wondering about when you saw Gojo in front you.

Around 3 am, you four had decided to book a room in a nearby hotel, instead of getting a cab and going home. You all were too wasted to even trust yourselves that you can all recall how to go home.

They never remember much after that but they were sure you were the first one to sleep on the bed. But later, after around 5 or 6, Iori woke up and saw you weren't there. They were filled with panic and terror because there is no way you can stand up after having that short sleep and being too drunk.

They tried to rationalize that maybe you did go home and tried to call you. But when you were still not picking up, they almost trashed the hotel room. Luckily, the cleaning lady was kind enough. When she saw their panicked and disheveled appearance, she asked the security to check if you left the hotel in one piece. It turns out, she had seen you four together and was also worried that something happened to you too.

They had seen you walking out of the room and through the lobby, up to the entrance. You obviously looked still drunk as you tried to wobble and walk straight ahead, outside of the hotel.

Since then, they have been blowing your phone with texts and calls. They could hear it ringing so they suspected that maybe you accidentally turned it to silent mode or you were kidnapped.

Grateful, you reassured them that you were fine. You made up a story that you booked a new hotel room, in another hotel, probably because you were drunk. Currently, you informed them that you were staying in that room and having breakfast. You reasoned out that you were not able to answer their calls and texts because you can barely open your eyes. It uproared another wave of panic but you told them firmly that you were fine and will call them once you take care of your too drunk ass. To stop them from asking further, you hung up the phone with an excuse that your battery was dying out.

There is no way that you will share to them that your drunk ass went to your ex's huge condominium and you thought as you woke that it was yours. You had been staying and visiting this place that your body immediately thought of this place as your other home.

After finishing your meal, and feeling the medicine taking effect. You psych yourself up to face the inevitable. There is no way you can just walk out of this place without confronting him about what you did and what he had to witness.

You walk to the restroom and try your best to look presentable and not a crazy person.

Once done, you slowly crept towards the door and opened it ajar, you scanned the place and looked for him. He was wearing a black fitted plain shirt, as he sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee as he typed something on his laptop. Probably, for work.

You walked slowly towards him and coughed to get his attention. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you, as he removed his glasses and closed his laptop. He grumbled and again, crossed his arms to his chest. His lips were abit pouted and the creases on his head showed a frown.

"I'm really sorry for trespassing. I promise I will never drink that hard again." You promised and even did a pinky swear in front of him. He looked unamused though as he replied with a doubtful "hmmm" and still had the same frowning face.

"Do you remember what you did then?" He asked.

"To be honest, no. I only remember being in a hotel with the girls and sleeping. I don't really remember much about what I did." You gulped when you saw him raised his eyebrow and sighed.

"See those keys?" He pointed at the keys placed on a bowl. "You used that to enter my condo. They were my spare keys that were still hidden in the same place. You were so drunk that you thought you went back home and even slept beside me. I thought I was sleeping with my pillow the whole morning, so imagine my surprise when that pillow turned out to be you." He shared with a firm voice, as if he even cannot fathom what happened.

However, something's amiss with that story.

"No way! Don't lie to me. I agree that I may have done the trespassing but sleeping beside you? Nahhhhhhh! I doubt that. Remember, you're a light sleeper! There is no way I can sneak up on you and sleep." It was now your time to raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at him. You even sounded smug for someone who owed him big time.

You do not believe that other accusation at all. That is so unbelievable and he was probably messing with you so you will feel guiltier from entering his home without permission.

"My new doctor prescribed effective sleeping pills for insomnia this time. I have been sleeping better and on time ever since. I never felt any movement at all." He smirked. And you know, you lose. Gojo never lied about these things and you also knew that he was struggling to sleep.

So if this was true, then for the whole morning, you were sleeping together!?

Who would even do that with her ex? Oh god you are stupid!

His smug look had made you feel ashamed even more and you know that you're red as a tomato. You feel hot all over and even at the end of your ears.

Let's end this humiliation and be done with this asap!

"I- Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one. I'm so sorry again and will promise not to drink again and disturb you. Again, I am so sorry." With a deep bow, you sincerely apologize and you just hear him say "look up."

"It's alright. I'm glad your safe. Hangover but safe. " He taunted and you just wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. He was obviously implying how humiliating your shenanigans were. And they were, but he doesn't have the right to judge.

"Well then, if there's nothing more, I'll go back to the hotel and meet my friends." A bow again and you were on your way out.

You blinked when he slapped his hands on his thighs before he stood up and used his head to tell you to go first.

You frowned a bit in confusion but followed regardless.

This whole interaction was so awkward but familiar. He does this a lot whenever you visit his home. He usually drives you back home or if he can't, he will see you out to the entrance.

The elevator did not come sooner, however. It was creating unnecessary drama and tension between you two. As you just stood there, holding your bag for dear life. You hugged it for comfort and distraction on this growing awkwardness by standing near him. He looks fit. You imagine running your hands over him again. It was more tempting now than before.

"Please take care of yourself." You heard him speak first, breaking the ice. Your head whipped so fast in his direction when you heard his voice break a little when he said that. But when you looked at him, he titled his head to the side, confused at your action. Maybe you imagined it.

Embarrassed, you used the ping of the elevator as an excuse, thank god, and immediately rode the lift.

He was standing there on the other side, he was staring at you. It feels like someone was looking into your soul. You cannot help but feel vulnerable and open in front of his eyes. He looks solemn, calm.

If you stop me, I will forgive you and run back to your loving arms.

It was too late before you realized that you opened your mouth to speak and called his name.

"Satoru." His first name rang smoothly on your mouth. It feels comfortable and your heart twinged in pain when you realized that it may be the last time you will ever see him.

As the door closes slowly, you have seen his mouth move from your peripheral and he uttered your name softly, like how you say the name of the ones you treasured the most.

You do not know if you were just seeing things but his eyes look emotional, somewhat sad for a second. Before the elevator door finally closes and your name echoed when he said it.

"Y/N."

There were no tears as the lift started going down. You expected that seeing him one last time, you will feel the pain worse than before. Yet, that did not happen.

Staring at your reflection, your eyes look tired. The way those eyes bore at you speaks volume on how your soul truly feels about this.

You had a moment of acceptance when the doors closed in between you two.

A new chapter of your lives will arise. He will have his own world without you. He will be happy. He will be truly madly deeply in love with someone else.

And now, the hurt and pain became numb and cold.

Just imagining that he would love someone much greater than what he had given you was soul crushing to the point of rude awakening.

During those times, you will be happy for him. But you wish, as selfish as it sounds, that he will not be as happy when you were still together.

🐈

Gojo doesn't need to get up to know it was you who entered his condo without notice. He was a bit concerned that you kept on stumbling around and cussing his furniture out that managed to trip you, even though it was clearly your fault.

When he felt the bed dipped and your arms automatically hugging him from behind, it made him a bit nervous. He has to pretend to be asleep or else…….or else what? He never knew.

You smell like alcohol and you're even slurring your words. He never saw you this drunk before. In fact, you never liked alcohol. You have a terrible experience of living with an alcoholic, so a mere smell of alcohol repulses you. He never expected to see you drunk and barely kept together.

He was about to confront you, when he felt your arms tighten around him and your breath tickling his back when you said, "I'm home." with a sigh of relief before passing out.

Gojo had never felt more at peace hearing those words coming from your mouth.

🐈

When he woke up, he was just staring at you. He never had any proper sleep since the break up but knowing you were beside him, he was able to sleep well.

Maybe something inside him had been comforted when you said you were home. It actually warms his heart that you felt at home beside him.

He sat up and, a twang of pain rushed inside his chest. He shakes his hair in annoyance using his right hand.

He doesn't have the right to be sad about it when he was the one who broke it up with you.

Gojo never really knew why he did it in the first place. Sure, his family never approved of you but he never really cared about their opinion. He actually wishes for his old folks to die soon so he doesn't have to pretend that he cares about their words. He grew up without them being around.

Or maybe it was because he felt insecure that someone as kind and loving as you chose him. You were so different to the people he usually surrounds himself around but you were warm and he felt safe around you.

With a frustrated groan, Gojo stood up and was about to walk towards the door when he thought of an idea.

He slowly walked towards where you were asleep, bent down and whispered, "Welcome home." before kissing your forehead.

For the first time, after a week of him trying to justify that he made the right choice, making Nanami, his friend, worry that he was working too much, he felt at peace and happy.

Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that he did not let you go for something so stupid and you were actually home with him.

2K notes · View notes

andvys · 5 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 25

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of unrequited love. love triangle. not proofread

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: As the summer is starting to come to an end, you begin to understand your feelings a little more. While Steve and Eddie struggle with their own.

Word count: 4.8k

A/N: So, I know I said that this would be the birthday chapter but I decided to split it! Do the angst first and give you the fluff later. I'd need much more time to finish it and I really wanted to give you guys something, so here ya go, enjoy it. Next chapter is gonna be silly, it’s gonna be fun (after a little angst in the beginning hehe)

Also for those who forgot who Dmitri is, it’s ‘Enzo’ from season 4.

oh and also, listen to this one while you read this chapter :')

series masterlist

The strong smell of oil lingers in the air, loud noises fill the large hall, laughter and chatter from the break room, the music from the radio at the front desk, yet none of the sounds manage to distract Eddie from the storm that is taking place in his mind.

Your words keep repeating themselves over and over again.

I wish I met you first, Eddie.

That night, he laid next to you and watched you sleep, thinking about your words, over and over again. He could not make sense of them.

What does it mean?

He could not even ask you what it meant, after you had said it, he was too shocked to even say anything, at that moment. He could only stare at you, his heart racing, his eyes wide as he watched you stare at his lips. His first instinct was to swoon over these few simple words, over the way you had looked at him, over the way you had showed up at his place because you missed him, over the way you rather wanted to be with him than at a party or somewhere else.

I wish I met you first, Eddie.

Does that mean that you would’ve been with him if you met him first?

Does that mean that he would’ve been the one for you?

Does that mean that you could’ve fallen for him instead?

That he could’ve had a chance?

In some way, you must feel something for him. It’s something that he never fully allowed himself to question, if you have feelings for him or not, he can’t get his hopes up, not when it comes to you. You are too perfect, too out of reach. You love Steve, you still love Steve, he knows it. Yet, your words made him question everything. Your friendship, the intimacy, the lingering touches, the stolen glances, your affection. But, that is all something that has been there from the start. It has always been so natural for you to be so close with him. It’s not something new, it might not even be anything special to you. Eddie might not be anything special to you, not the way Steve is, at least.

He could’ve been the one for you if it wasn’t for Steve.

He could’ve been.

You could’ve loved him. You could’ve.

“What’s with that long face?” Dmitri asks, his voice thick with the russian accent that everyone keeps teasing him for. With a slap on Eddie’s shoulder, he snaps him out of his thoughts, “pass me the screwdriver, boy.”

Eddie nods, not answering the question. He reaches for the tool, he hands it to the older man. Dmitri looks curious as he eyes the expression on his face but Eddie knows that he won’t ask. He’ll wait for him to speak up himself. But, that is something that Eddie usually never does. He’s never one to talk about his feelings, to ask for help or even advice, until now.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Dmitri mumbles, pulling away from the chevy, he flips the tool in his hand, leaning against the truck.

As Eddie thinks about the question that has been lingering in his mind, all weekend, he suddenly feels stupid. No answer will be one that he wants to hear.

“Forget it,” Eddie mumbles.

Dmitri raises his brows.

“Spit it out, come on.”

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hates this. He hates talking about his feelings, but he needs to.

“There’s uh, there’s this girl.”

“Ah, I knew it,” he chuckles. “It’s always about some girl when someone mops around all day and looks like this.”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“She’s not some girl, she’s my best friend.”

“And you have feelings for her,” he says, stating the obvious.

Eddie licks his lips, he had never admitted it to anyone before, he had only admitted it to himself. He looks at him and nods weakly, afraid to say these words out loud.

“Yeah, but uh, she’s still in love with her ex boyfriend, who she’s friends with again,” he rolls his eyes. “Last Friday, she came to me, drunk and high and telling me how much she missed me and then she said something that’s been messing with my mind all fucking weekend!”

Eddie isn’t sure why he is telling him all that. Dmitri is friends with Wayne, a colleague and not even someone he’d consider a friend. But, maybe that’s what he needs, to talk to someone who is not a friend.

He considered talking to Robin but, knowing her, she’d only pick Steve’s side again and tell Eddie to take a step back.

Then, there is Gareth, who would only tease him about his crush on you and not be of any help.

Jeff would only give him false hope and encourage him to make a move on you, that is something that could potentially ruin your friendship, and that is something that is way too important to him. Chrissy would do just the same. The girl who had been snappy with him at first, won’t stop teasing him about his crush on you now.

Then there is Heather. He is scared of Heather.

“She told me that she wished that she met me first. What does it even mean? That we could’ve been something if we met first?” He asks, throwing his hands up as he voices his questions out loud for the first time. “We can’t be anything now because she’s already in love with him? Because she could never love me after loving him?” Eddie buries his hands in his curls, huffing. “Jesus Christ, I made peace with the fact I can never have her but fuck, she goes and says this.”

“You are way too negative, boy. Has anyone ever told you that? Who says that you can’t have her?”

“I’m not negative, I’m just seeing things the way they are.”

Dmitri shakes his head, scrunching his face up in disapproval.

“No, you are seeing things the way you want to see them because you refuse to believe that she could ever love you,” he says, pointing at him with the screwdriver. “You see her words negatively without even knowing what she actually meant.”

Eddie shakes his head, stubbornly.

“Tell me,” Dmitri sighs. “That guy, her ex boyfriend, did he break her heart?”

“Fucking crushed it,” Eddie frowns. “He left her for another girl. She was – she was so heartbroken, I think she still is.”

He nods, “alright, well, she went through heartbreak and a lot of hurt. But, now she has you. Maybe, she loves you, maybe she is even in love with you but she’s scared just like you are. She’s scared of losing you as a friend, of getting her heart broken again, the trust isn’t there anymore after she’s been left for someone else. Maybe she wants to be with you but she is struggling. If she met you first, she would’ve never been with him, in the first place, she wouldn’t have gotten her heart broken, she would’ve loved you fearlessly and you would’ve loved her too, you wouldn’t have left her for someone else, would you?”

No, Eddie would never do this to you. Eddie would rather get his heart broken than be the one to break yours.

“Never.”

“See, things could’ve been so simple if she met you first, that’s what she was trying to say. But now, she has all these fears and all these trust issues and probably thinks she isn’t good enough – just what you are dealing with too, Eddie. I don’t know your girl but I’m sure she’s worth fighting for. And, from what Wayne told me about you two, you seem to make each other happy.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, he is stunned.

Wayne talks about the two of you?

He doesn’t know how to feel about Dmitri’s words, knowing that they might hold more false hope than the actual truth for him.

But, Eddie knows, he feels that there is something. And yet, even if, your feelings for Steve will always be stronger.

“But she still loves him.”

“Was he her first love?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Well, you know what? First love is always gonna be something special. I would know.”

Eddie raises his brows at him.

“I used to be married.”

Eddie’s head snaps up, he looks at him in surprise, “wait, really? I never knew.”

Dmitri chuckles, shrugging, “well, it’s not important anymore.”

“Why aren’t you together anymore?”

Dmitri sighs, he places the tool back on the table, reaching for the hanky in his pocket, he looks down at his oil stained hands and begins to clean them.

“Things just didn’t work out. She met someone else, fell in love and uh our marriage was just history.”

“Oh,” Eddie frowns.

“Yeah, and you know what? I hated her for a while, she hurt me. But I let go, I moved on and I accepted that I will always love her, despite how much I hated her for the first few months after she left. You can’t erase the past, we used to have something good before it all went wrong. She was special to me and even now, it’s something special when I look back on the good moments. But, never in a million years would I go back to it again or leave my girlfriend for her if she ever wanted me back. The past is the past. And first love is rarely ever true love.”

Eddie understands what he is trying to say, yet somehow, he struggles to believe that you could ever move on from Steve.

“Don’t give up, Eddie. She won’t always be hung up on him.”

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles. Though, he can’t help but struggle to believe it. Maybe it’s his stubborn mind that can’t let go of the idea of you being unable to let go of Steve for someone like him or maybe, he is just too afraid to get his hopes up only to lose not only his heart but also his mind at the end of it all.

“Have you ever been in love? I mean, besides with her?” Dmitri asks Eddie, who furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“Nah, not really,” Eddie mumbles, snorting as he thinks back to his younger self. The one who closed himself off completely, never letting anyone in to even see a glimpse of the real Eddie. “It was never for me, love. I mean, I had a few crushes here and there but it was never anything serious, you know? But shit, I always watched her when we were still in high school,” Eddie says, not even feeling the smile that is creeping up on his face as he thinks back to those days. “I’m pretty sure I failed math class because of her, she was always next to me – she always chose the seats next to me, I’m certain that she wasn’t even aware that she was doing it but she was there and I was there, and she was so focused on class while I spent the whole hour just staring at her. We weren’t friends back then but she always smiled at me even though we never really talked until last summer. We spent a night together after she had gotten into a fight with her boyfriend and then, she started paying more attention to me in school and then we became friends and then we got closer and closer and my plan to never catch feelings flew out the window,” he says, dramatically.

Dmitri chuckles at Eddie, shaking his head.

“What’s life without love, Eddie?”

“Less suffering?” He mumbles.

“Well, yeah. Some people get lucky though.”

Eddie fears that he won’t be one of those who will ever get lucky, especially when it comes to love.

But maybe, maybe there is just the smallest sliver of hope inside of him.

August is coming to an end, the summer days are slowly passing, fall is coming closer and so is Steve’s birthday. It’s tomorrow. It’s been a while since you had last seen him. It’s been a while since you had hung out with him in a group, let alone. The past few weeks, you have spent a lot of time by yourself, you needed it, you needed it to collect your feelings. Robin was right.

Though, you could not stay away from Eddie for too long. He is your best friend, you can’t be without him and you won’t let your feelings ruin yet another friendship.

Despite the distance between you and Steve, you made it a mission to go on a hunt for the perfect birthday present for him. It’s something that Heather rolled her eyes at when you told her about it, this morning. ‘Who in their right mind would buy their ex boyfriend a birthday present?’ She had asked, scoffing. Really, no one would do that, no one except for you. But you and Steve, you have a history that you can’t and don’t want to erase. Not only was he your best friend, once. He was also there when you needed him, when he didn’t even have to be there.

He gave you a birthday present and he kept up the tradition the two of you had.

You know that he isn’t alone anymore, that he has Dustin and Robin now, people who care for him, people who love him and won’t leave him hanging on a day like this, but you still want to do something that you used to do when you were still.. friends.

“I’m telling you, y/n, the Star Wars movie collection would be the best decision ever!”

Dustin exclaims as he walks through the downtown streets next to you.

“Dustin, I know you’re a little Star Wars geek but there’s just no way that he will be happy to unwrap a collection of movies that he’s not even a fan of!”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you, “listen, if there’s someone that can turn him into a ‘Star Wars geek’ then that’s you!”

“But I’m not a Star Wars geek,” you mumble, furrowing your brows at the boy.

“Then you and Steve can become geeks together,” he smiles enthusiastically. “You could have movie nights, just watch Star Wars together,” he winks.

You shake your head at him.

“I see what you’re trying to do and you’re really no help, Dustin.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he feigns innocence. “You need a birthday present for Steve and asked for help, so that’s what I’m doing, I’m trying to help.”

“Well, I was thinking I’d get him a cool bracelet–” “Boring!” He yawns.

“Hey!” You frown, raising your hand, you ruffle his curls, making him groan in annoyance.

“Stop!”

You chuckle at him when he slaps your hand away. Pointing at you with a stern look on his face, “you really need to stop ruining my hair!”

“Don’t worry, the Farrah Fawcett spray holds your perfect hairstyle together, Dusty bun.” You giggle. “How’s Suzie doing, by the way?”

He rolls his eyes again, sighing, dramatically.

“You’re like the older sister I never wanted.”

You gasp, putting your hand over your heart, “ouch, I thought you liked me.”

“I do, and I don’t even know why,” he jokes, giggling when you pretend to cry.

“You only like me cause I drive you around when your mama Steve is working.”

He laughs, throwing his head back.

“If he is the mom, then what does that make you and Eddie?”

You furrow your brows, looking up as you pretend to think, “hmm, Eddie is the chaotic dad and I’m uh, I dunno, the cool babysitter.”

“The babysitter who is secretly dating both the mom and the dad,” he says with a smirk.

“Dustin!” You exclaim as you halt in your tracks, while he keeps walking, laughing when he turns around to look at you, he keeps working backwards.

“You should’ve seen your face!”

“Very funny!”

He stops walking when he notices something in the window at the video store, “ooh, look, Star Wars! I’m gonna check it out, you should too!” He says before he turns around and rushes into the store.

You roll your eyes, groaning. You’re about to follow him inside the store, when your eyes fall on the couple leaving the restaurant across the street. Enzo’s. You have only been there once. Steve took you there on a date, it was an amazing night, you remember every detail of it. How he gave you the prettiest bouquet of flowers that you had ever seen when he picked you up, how he kissed you and told you how beautiful you looked when you wore a midnight blue dress, how sweet and nice he was, so different from the night before when you fought at his party. He was a gentleman that night, he held you softly, he kissed you gently, he held your hand at the restaurant and he only looked at you, not at the young waitress that kept trying to throw him glances. He only looked at you because you were the one he wanted. That night, he had put a ring on your middle finger, promising that the next one would be on your ring finger, only to crush your heart weeks later when he told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore, that he fell in love with her.

That night has haunted you for weeks and months after he had dumped you. Every night, you glared at the ceiling, thinking about the things he had said to you that night, the promises he made, the hope he gave, the love he gave. How you had sat there so pathetically in love not knowing that only days later he would meet her.

You feel even more pathetic now because it still hurts, because it still shakes the ground beneath you, because it still feels like it just happened yesterday when you think back to that day. It shouldn’t hurt anymore, at least not like this but you get sucked back into the past so easily.

All it ever took was to hear his name to feel the pain all over again. But months have passed, things have changed, you have changed and it all got a little easier. You’re even friends again.

But now, it’s the memories, the one that you have locked away, the ones that are still holding you back.

As you stare at the restaurant, realization floods through you like a cold wave that would make you gasp and shudder.

You haven’t let go of them, of the memories, of the past, of the old him. Even after so many months, even after making yourself and everyone else believe that you had let go, you never really did. And that is the cause of all of the messes in your head and in your heart. The past keeps calling for you, the past keeps pulling you back.

You feel stuck. You are stuck. You are still stuck in the past.

It’s why you can’t move on, it’s why you can’t find happiness, it’s why you can’t find yourself in this timeline because you are stuck in a time that no longer exists.

You never let go, you never let go of him, you never let go of the anger and the pain that is rooted so deeply inside of you. It’s not even his fault, it’s your own, because you couldn’t let go of all the memories you have made with him, good and bad.

You have a second chance with him now, you gave him one, despite how wrong it was to do so, you gave him and your friendship a second chance because you did not want to lose him again. He is right in front of you and he is trying, he is trying to be good, he is trying to be your friend. Yet, you kept holding onto something that died a long time ago.

Dustin calls your name, but you are still staring at the restaurant.

“Hey,” Dustin waves his hand in front of you, watching you in concern, “you… okay?”

You snap out of your thoughts, blinking. You clear your throat, looking into Dustin’s worried eyes, “y-yeah!”

He looks back, checking out what you’ve been staring at for so long.

“You uh, don’t plan on buying him a restaurant do you?”

You crack a smile, shaking your head at the young teen.

“Come on, I gotta show you something, you’re gonna love it!” He grins as he grabs your hand and drags you into the store, pulling you away from something that had thrown your world upside down, yet again.

The window is open in his room, the cold breeze kisses his skin, distant thunder crashes through the sky but lighting is yet to be seen. The room is silent, as is the rest of the house, as always. Steve is sitting on his bed, his eyes keep flickering back and forth between the watch on his nightstand and the telephone.

He is waiting, waiting for something that might not happen this year.

It’s almost midnight. It’s almost his birthday.

He is willing you to call. He needs you to. He needs to hear your voice, it’s been too long since he had last heard you, since he had last seen you. You had distanced yourself from everyone for a moment, but especially from him. Robin had told him that you needed it, that you needed some time to yourself. And while he understood why, he still felt sad when you stopped showing up at Scoops Ahoy every lunch break.

He glances at the watch. The clock strikes 12, but the phone isn’t ringing and he fears that it won’t at all. He knew it wouldn’t. He knew you wouldn’t call. Yet, he can’t help but feel disappointment sinking through him. This will be the first year without a call from you at midnight on his birthday.

He closes his eyes.

His parents aren’t here, and they won’t be when he wakes up in the morning. They won’t be here, he already knows it. Despite the promise that they had made, he knows they won’t show up. And this time, you won’t be here either.

For the first time in a while, he feels like crying again.

It’s 12:01 when the shrill sound of the ringing telephone almost makes him jump up from his bed. He opens his eyes, staring at it for a second before he picks up the phone with a pounding heart and hope in his eyes.

“Hello?”

For a moment, he can only hear his racing heart and silence on the other line.

“Hey.”

It’s you.

You called him, after all.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” you whisper in a way that mends his hurting heart in an instant.

He blinks the tears away that have threatened to fall just seconds ago.

“T-Thank you, Dolly,” he whispers. “I didn’t think you’d call.”

“I always call.”

“Yeah, but.. things are different now. I’d understand if you didn’t call,” he says, though he wanted nothing more than to hear your voice. For weeks, he had craved to see you, to hear your voice, to feel your presence. But especially tonight, because this used to be something special to you and him.

You are quiet. For a long minute, you don’t say anything. Steve can tell that you are struggling.

“But we’re friends, right?”

“Yes, we’re friends,” he whispers, sadly.

He pictures the look on your face, right now. He thinks that it matches the sad one on his.

“I missed you,” Steve whispers.

He can hear your breath hitching in your throat.

“I missed you too.”

That alone, is enough to make his heart flutter in his chest. You missed him.

You clear your throat.

“S-So are you throwing a big party tomorrow?”

Steve lays back, letting himself fall into the soft pillows.

“No, I think I’m done with those.”

There haven’t been many parties that ever brought him anything good. Most of them ended badly for him.

“Oh, but you always used to throw birthday parties.”

He can hear the frown in your voice and he can’t help but smile at that.

“I’m getting old,” he jokes.

You laugh at his words, not knowing that the sound of it causes his heart to beat wildly.

“Oh yeah, you’re such an old man, Harrington,” you tease. “How’d you manage to keep the good looks?” You ask with a giggle.

His eyes widen and his cheeks heat up. He can feel the blush on his cheeks now.

“I uh– well, I eat healthy and I work out,” he mumbles, scrunching his face up.

“You work out, huh? Just when you leave the basketball team, you start working out even more.”

He chuckles. He raises his hand towards his hair, running his fingers through it.

“Well, I get bored after work and when Robin and Dustin aren’t around to be little shitheads, I use the gym that my dad built for no reason. That old man never uses it.”

You snort.

“You should start playing DnD with the guys.”

“You mean with Eddie?” Steve asks, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, well, Eddie rarely plays nowadays, he’s busy with work and the band but yeah, sure. You two should spend some time together.”

Steve raises his brows.

Him and Eddie, spending time together?

Eddie hates his guts. And, Steve doesn’t even blame him for it. But, he’s not a big fan of him either. Eddie has something that he wants back.

The thought of spending time with him seems like something out of a fever dream.

“I think you’d actually get along if you both tried.”

He frowns at your words, shaking his head as though you can see him.

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry but no.”

“You’re both so stubborn, I swear. Trust me, you’re not that much different from each other – Eddie also loves KFC.”

Steve snorts at your words, rolling his eyes.

“Did it traumatize you when he took you to KFC for the first time? You know, cause you always hated it so much when I took you there?”

You giggle.

“Oh, it was so traumatizing, Steve. I almost had a panic attack.”

“Always so dramatic, honey,” he says so naturally.

“You know me.”

You are both smiling, both laying in your beds as you talk on the phone for the first time in forever. This used to be a regular thing a long time ago.

“How are you?” He asks the question that has been lingering on his mind forever. “I haven’t seen you since we met up for lunch.” When Robin had crushed the ‘date’ that he was looking forward to.

“I’m... good.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m good.”

Steve had wondered what went wrong. That day you had met up with him, you seemed so nervous, so anxious and worried. He could not ask you back then, he didn’t want to pressure you. And then, you and Robin had disappeared. When she came back without you and she told him that you needed some time to yourself, that he should stay away from you for a little while, he couldn’t help but feel sick with worry.

“Robin said you needed some time to yourself, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I-I uh, I just needed to be alone for a little.”

“Oh.”

Alone. Alone but with Eddie.

“So, what are you doing for your birthday if you’re not throwing a party?”

“I’m gonna have dinner with my parents.”

“Oh! They’re gonna be there?” You ask, surprised.

“Yeah,” Steve says, knowing that they won’t be there. He wishes you would be there. He wishes that he could spend the day with you. But he can’t ask, knowing that you will say yes only because you won’t be able to say no.

“That’s nice, Steve.” You say. In a way, it sounds like there is something else you want to tell him.

“Yeah..”

“D-Do you remember when we went to Enzo’s, last year?” You ask after a beat of silence.

“Yes, of course, I remember,” he says so simply, like he didn’t crush your heart weeks after giving false hope and promises he never kept.

You’re quiet, again. And despite not seeing you, he knows that you’re sad when he feels his heart clenching.

“It was.. one of the best dates I’ve ever been on, Steve.”

Your voice has changed so suddenly, it sounds sick with sadness.

He remembers it, he remembers it just the way you do.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to go back to that night, just to see you smile again, just to feel your touch again, just to be with you again. He wants to go back to a night where you had still loved him, where he hadn’t ruined anything yet.

“Maybe we can go back there sometime,” he whispers with hope in his heart.

“Yeah, maybe…”

Though, while he sounds hopeful, you sound uncertain.

And he knows, the reason isn't your past. But something, someone else.

next chapter

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#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #Spotify

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sameschmidtdiffname · 4 months

Text

Sweet Delights

Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader

Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?

Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.

Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.

•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•

Peeta loves surprises.

Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.

It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.

The best innocent surprise, I should say.

Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.

I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?

I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.

The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.

Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.

"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.

"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.

"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.

Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.

"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"

"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.

"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.

"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.

"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."

"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.

But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.

"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.

"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.

He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.

"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."

"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.

"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.

"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."

It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.

"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.

"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.

"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"

My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.

"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."

He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.

"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.

"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."

That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.

Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.

"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.

"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.

"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.

His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.

"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.

"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.

"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."

He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!

"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.

"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.

"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.

"Nine," he continued, knowing this.

"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.

"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.

"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.

"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.

"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.

"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.

"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."

"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."

He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.

"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"

I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.

"Three." I'm so impossibly close.

"Two."

"Wait a minute, slow down-"

"One."

With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.

"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.

A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.

"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.

Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.

"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.

"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"

"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."

He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.

"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."

He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.

My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.

"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.

My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.

"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.

"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.

"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."

"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.

"Anything."

Alright.

I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.

"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"

"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"

He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.

"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.

"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.

"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.

I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.

His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.

My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.

His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.

It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.

"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"

I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.

Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?

The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.

My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.

He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.

"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.

"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.

His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.

His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.

His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.

Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.

I moan around his cock. He gets it.

"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.

"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.

"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."

My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.

"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.

"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."

I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.

"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."

I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.

"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.

His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.

"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"

His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.

It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.

"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.

"So are you," I say.

He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.

"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.

"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.

"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"

He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.

This is going to be a long night.

•《♡》•

Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark smut #the hunger games peeta #peeta mellark #thg peeta #peeta x reader #peeta x you #peeta x y/n #peeta smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 1 year

Text

Host of a Ghost

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.

Word count: 4.1K

Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3

PART II

“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.

It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.

“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice.

By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.

From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.

Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.

You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.

It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.

“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.

“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”

“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”

“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.

“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.

“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back.

“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”

“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”

So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.

It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.

She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.

However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”

You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.

“Your reflexes need polishing,”

“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.

“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”

“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”

“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”

“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”

“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”

You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.

That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.

Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.

Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.

He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.

He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.

Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.

“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”

You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing. Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.

It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.

The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.

“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”

“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.

However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.

You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.

“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”

“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.

“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.

When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.

“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.

“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”

“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.

“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.

“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”

That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?

“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.

“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”

“I said I would think about it, and I have.”

He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.

“And?”

“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”

That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.

“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”

Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.

“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”

He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.

“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”

“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.

“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.

He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…

“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”

“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.

“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.

“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.

While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.

Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.

And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.

When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.

“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?

With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.

“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.

“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”

The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.

“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.

And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.

“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”

Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.

“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”

“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”

“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”

“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”

With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.

Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.

“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.

“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.

“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.

Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.

“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”

“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?

With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.

Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.

“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”

Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.

Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.

“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.

“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”

This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.

“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”

“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.

“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.

“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”

Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.

“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”

“Are you getting somewhere with this?”

“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”

After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.

“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”

“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.

God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.

“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.

Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.

“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”

You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

When I Danced Under The Stars

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Part Three

Summary - Tamlin's visit leaves your soul in tatters, but there is someone who knows your pain better than anyone.

Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma, fluff

Part One - When I Kissed the Teacher

Part Two - When I Met The Devil

The fear and despair rippled down the path which led to your front door, the pulsating negative energy causing Rhys to roll his shoulders in discomfort.

He imagined your home looking rather spectacular in the daylight, the pale wood and white railings, the small well-kept garden full of blooming tulips, the natural warmth that no doubt usually emitted from the hearth. It was no wonder that Azriel had forgone his own space to spend time in yours.

Rhys had appeared at the end of the cobbled path, wings nowhere to be seen, with tired, worrisome orbs and a heavy heart. It had taken much convincing from Rhys to convince Azriel that he should be the one to talk to you, that if anyone was going to be able to understand your pain it would be him. It felt like eons since he though of Amarantha and what had transpired Under The Mountain, but as he saw you stood there, frozen in fear and overcome with your past traumas, he felt some of his own return to him.

The High Lord had little reason to think of the traumatic events he too endured not that long ago, he had a mate, and a child, and a loving growing family. Amarantha and everything she did was in the past, they had all moved on, he thought he had too but something still lingered deep within his soul, that fear that the past could one day repeat itself. It was a feeling he was doing his best to hide.

Knocking on the door, Rhys sighed when he heard your sniffles, and he pictured you standing on your tiptoes to peer through the peephole at whoever had come to pull you from your turmoil. Then you opened the door, and Rhys wanted nothing more than to bundle you up in his arms and tell you that it was all going to be alright.

Tears stained your red tinged cheeks, your eyes were puffy and swollen, and you were holding yourself, rubbing your arms with your hands whilst standing half behind the door, "Are you here to tell me to leave?"

Rhys could have cried at your broken strangled voice, it was like Lucien had said, Tamlin had the power to strip the light from you, there was no love in your eyes, just pure unfiltered fear. Rhys tilted his head to the side and shook his head, "I'd like you to walk with me," he stepped into your home, and it looked exactly as he had imagined it.

Childish artworks were strewn across the coffee table of your living area, workbooks were marked and stacked to the left of the said artworks, books upon books were stacked on the floor since your bookcases were bursting full of other titles. It was light and airy but oh so comfortable, he could picture you and Azriel cuddled up on the deep rooted love seat talking incoherently about your shared dreams. A faint scent of coffee clung to the air from the not-yet-emptied filter left in the coffee pot in the kitchen, it mixed with the aroma of the burnt firewood from the evening before.

Rhys took a step forward and plucked your cloak from the railing by the stairs, noting the neatly placed belongings on the table there, lined up in a row so that you wouldn't forget anything during the morning rush before school. You stood unmoving by the door, your eyes flickering furiously as he draped the garment over your shoulders and offered you a hand which you stared at for a moment before sliding your hand into his embrace, shuddering in a mixture of fear and and comfort as he placed your hand on the indent of his elbow.

The Sidra bubbled along the rocks, pebbled stone skitted beneath your shared weight. Neither of you said a word, Rhys was content in just having you near, where he knew you were safe, and you were equally as content looking at the night sky full of stars and wonder. A stark difference to the sky of the Spring Court.

"I'm putting you all in danger," you muttered, eyes still fixated to the dancing starlight weaving in the moons embrace, "You should send me away."

Rhys slowed to a stop and turned to face you, examining your features with a look void of any anger, in a way it was unsettling. You were far closer to Feyre than Rhys, it wasn't like you weren't friends, but you'd never spent a moment alone with him, "I'm not sending you anywhere, y/n," he told you softly, with an understanding speckle of kindness in his eye. Your High Lord lowered himself to your level, placing his hands on your upper arms and stroking the clothed skin there, "I'm here because I want you to know that I understand."

Leading you to a small ledge, Rhys perched beside you on the lip of earth, his legs dangling beside your own as the Sidra swam along down the stream, "I know what it's like to be used against your will. I know what it's like to feel tainted and unworthy of anything good. You feel like you don't belong in a way, that everything you went through was deserved and the Mother must see you as evil," he paused and brushed his arm up against your own, to give you some form of caring contact, a break of sunlight in your clouded mind, "I'm sorry that he did that to you, and I'm sorry that you've been living with it all this time. I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't tell us. I'm sorry, y/n."

Rhys felt the small sobs catch in your throat, you looked up at the sky and blinked hard, furrowing your brow and exhaling softly before looking sideward to him, "Is Feyre angry at me?"

"Cauldron, no," he told you incredulously, shuffling closer to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "If anything she's worried about you, we all are. What you went through is something no one should ever have to deal with, let alone someone as gentle and bright as you."

"You know?" It was a whisper and your chest thundered with the possibility that they all knew what Tamlin had done, that Azriel knew what Tamlin had done. Panic sat in your chest, a birthing monster of gruesome darkness that was threatening to swallow you whole, "How?"

"Lucien," your heart fluttered, Lucien was perhaps the only person who looked out for you then, working directly against Tamlin's orders and desires to set your free, wanting nothing in return but your happiness no matter where you wound up. As if sensing the deep rooted bond between you and him, Rhys spoke, "He's here, he only told us what we needed to know. I hope you don't mind," Rhys' fingers drifted over the tips of your unbound hair.

"No, I don't. It saves me from having to explain it," Lucien was in Velaris. You knew of his bond with Elain, but you never thought you'd ever see him again, you never had the chance to thank him before he threw you onto a horses back and sent you soaring into freedom, "He's really here?"

Rhys hummed in agreement and he felt your chest grow lighter, your shoulders seemed more relaxed and your eyes didn't seem as sad anymore, "I just want you to know that I know what you went through, I went through it too, and if you ever need someone to talk to, someone who understands, then I'm here. I'll always be here."

A small smile graced your lips, "How long did it take you to heal?"

"I'm still working on that. Healing from this kind of trauma isn't instant. I still wake up at night sometimes thinking I'm back under that mountain with her arm draped over me," his eyes glazed over and you knew he was lost in a memory, "Then I realise that I'm next to Feyre, that I'm in Velaris and I have a son. That it was all worth something, it was worth it to be here now with everything I ever dreamed of."

Resting your head on his shoulder felt natural in that moment, like two kindred spirits finding their other half of understanding, "I hope I get to feel like that one day."

Rhys rested his head atop your head and sighed, "You will. I know you will. Velaris is your home and you're safe here, y/n. You're surrounded by people who love you. One day you'll have what I have and look back at this moment and think about how incredibly wise I am."

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at Rhys, groaning softly as he moved to stand before you, hand outstretched and a wide grin on his lips, "Dance with your High Lord under the stars?"

Smiling, you slid your hand into his, "How could I say no to that?"

It was a tender moment, Rhys placed an arm around your back, his palm flat against the centre curve of your spine, and you leaned into him, head on his chest in the most platonic sense possible as he swayed with you, taking a moment to twirl you under his arm and relish in the joyful giggle that spurted from your lips, "Thank you, Rhys."

"There's no need to thank me, y/n. You mean a lot to us, I think Nyx likes you more than me at this point. Like it or not, you're a part of my family. You make Azriel the happiest I've ever seen him, you've been an amazing friend to all of us. The least I can do is make sure you feel supported and understood."

The pair of you continued to sway, "Azriel is happy?"

Rhys chuckled, "I swear I've never seen him smile so bright or blush so deeply than whenever he returns home from being with you," Rhys pulled away from you slightly, still holding your hand in his, "Azriel would wait an eternity in the depths of hell if it meant he would have the chance to hold you in his arms for a singular moment."

The gaze of your High Lord flickered behind you and his eyes softened as he pulled away from you, "Welcome to the family, y/n. We're all bruised and broken in our own way, you'll fit right in."

That familiar warmth swarmed you, cool kisses snaked up your calves, curling around the small cuts inflicted on you from the broken glass that you hadn't had a moment to clean, "Thank you," your words were sincere and full of blinding relief, Rhys simply bowed his head to you and disappeared into the night.

It was like he knew you needed a moment, just a moment to ground yourself and exhale shakily before your turned into his awaiting arms and flung yourself into his embrace.

Azriel wound his fingers around the back of your neck and inhaled your scent, blinking hard and burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck, "I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I'm so sorry, Az."

"Shhh, don't do that," he told you, his lips pressed against the curve of your neck and shoulder, "Don't apologise for what others did to you. Don't ever apologise for what he did."

"I feel so tainted, and dirty," you sniffled, his shadows caressed your cheeks and he secured his arms tightly around your waist, "I don't deserve you. I'm too ruined, Azriel. Now that he knows that I'm here, I'm not safe. We're not safe."

It didn't escape Azriel's notice that you couldn't even say Tamlin's name, it was like if you did say it then you'd perish into ash. Azriel took your face in his hands, his touch so soft and pure compared to the grip Tamlin had on you only hours before, "I will protect you until my dying breath, and even then I will raise from my grave and return to you. Nothing will ever keep me from you. You are my empire, y/n. You are the one I will burn for, you are the one I will douse myself in blood for, you are the one that makes every single bad day worth the chance of one blissful moment. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise, okay?"

"Please don't leave me," your face contorted and tears spilled from those eyes that he could spend the rest of his days gazing into, "You make me feel alive, like there was a reason I survived. It was to find you."

Azriel's heart sang at your words and he could have crumpled to his knees before you if you weren't the one holding him up.

The stars shone overhead, glittering the sky with endless possibility and Azriel couldn't stop himself from closing the gap between you, capturing your lips on his in the most ethereal embrace, so soul shaping that he didn't think such a feeling was possible. Your tears wet his cheeks and your fingers raked through his hair in desperation, in desperation to feel loved and something other than the heartbreak of your trauma. To feel worthy of something good.

Pulling apart, you were both breathless, and Azriel could see the exhaustion in your eyes. It had been a long day for you, from worrying all day about Nyx and your family, to seeing Tamlin again and feeling the tidal wave slaughter over your soul, to feeling like you had to leave. Azriel pressed his lips to your hairline and held you close, "Let's get you to bed."

You gripped onto him as he went to pull away, "Will you stay? Tonight. Would you?"

"I'd do anything for you," his words pierced your heart, you entwined your fingers in his and allowed him close enough to lift you into his arms, unfurling his wings, "And tomorrow, maybe I can take you to see Lucien? Or we could stay in a read?"

Humming drowsily, you responded, "Lucien, please."

The stars were so close as Azriel soared through the skies of Velaris, cradling you into his chest. You felt nothing but serene slumber pull you into its embrace as the stars sang their sweet lullaby, singing their love to you as your eyes fluttered closed and you became shrouded in their safe, loving arms.

You are safe. You are loved. You are strong. You are worthy.

Authors Note

Ahhhhh!!!! I hope this was worth the wait x

Part 4??

Taglist

@fxckmiup @sh4nn @acourtofbatboydreams @lilah-asteria @iloveboba777 @lisanna2000 @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon

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mixtape-racha · 5 months

Text

cw: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, mentioned seungmin, fem!reader

getting pounded by minho while the other members are in the next room over, his hand clamped over your mouth so tight your head is spinning and you adore it

all you can hear is the slapping of skin and minho's grunts, accompanied by your muffled whimpers and the way he pressed kisses against your shoulder has your eyes rolling back

he's so deep you swear you can feel him in your pelvis and you've been going at it so long your bodies are practically glued together with the sweat dripping off of both of you

soon enough, the boys will get concerned that it's been quiet for so long and come looking - there's only so much a stupid movie playing in the background can cover up

you clench at the thought of one of the members catching you like this, and you pray that minho won't notice, or care enough to question it

of course, he's smarter than you give him credit for and he chuckled against your skin, the lines of his smirk practically imprinted on you

"thinking about them coming to find us, hmm? seeing you like this, all spread out for mine like you should be?"

god, you hate that he knows you so well

"wouldn't that be a shame? probably traumatise poor felix. jeongin would move out. but what about seungmin, huh?"

your eyes rolled again, and you're just glad he can't see your face right now or you know he'd tease you forever

"now, seungminnie... i bet he'd like it. maybe a little too much, if you know what i mean?"

of course you did, but you weren't going to stop him talking now - not with the way your stomach was twisting and your chest pounding

his hips almost seemed to speed up as he continued talking, and it was then that you knew you had something to use against him

"maybe i'd let him watch. let him jerk his pathetic cock at me fucking you... or maybe we'd switch. maybe i'd let him take my place, and you could put on a show for me."

your thighs shook as you pushed your ass back against him to meet his thrusts, orgasm so close that you could almost taste it

"i reckon you could ruin him. have him whining and whimpering the way you usually do while you ride him. make him a complete bitch, yeah?"

you cried out into his hand, knowing he was close to his release too and wanting to finish together, but holding back was so, so hard

"you wanna make seungminnie a messy slut, yeah? put on a show for me, show me how much of a good girl you really are-- oh fuck, c'mon, baby, cum for me-"

your knees buckled as you came, the feeling overwhelming as minho's load shot inside of you

he took his hand away from your mouth, peppering you with kisses as he pulled out, but the silence couldn't be kept for long

"i'm gonna clean you up, and then we're gonna talk more about this, yeah?"

(a/n: scheduled post!)

-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha

tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @skz-streamer @demetrisscarf @manj1ro @linocvpid @alextheweeb7 @chans-american-slave @unsweetenedpeatea @carpioassists @bangtancultsposts @reiheis @happilydeepestwonderland @leemidnightmoon @watariisbestboy @hwangrimi @weedforthoughtz @ivyisnotokay @yevene @puckmaidens @poody1608 @vampcharxter @ilcveyouu @yeetmehome @prettymiye0n @bratty-tingz @diorrxluvskz

#mixtape-racha #mixtape-hard thoughts ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗#143 i luv queue ✮⋆˙#stray kids minho #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz fic #skz smut #lee minho fic #minho smut #minho fic #lee minho x reader #lee know fic #lee know smut #lee know x reader #aria: lino fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹#aria: skz fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹

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mylight-png · 5 months

Text

Despite the fact that I've understood that Jews aren't really white for a long time, it's been a much more recent perspective shift to understand that I'm not a "white Jew" but rather a white-passing Jew.

Because even though I would express my views on "Jews aren't white" to people, I'd frequently be told I'm wrong, or they'd listen but then in the next conversation simply forget all about it and made it clear they didn't agree or didn't care.

And so, for a very long time, I allowed goyim to define what it means to be Jewish for me.

But would I let anyone tell me who I am in relation to any other identity? Or was I just so conditioned to treat my Jewishness as something for society, not me, to define?

My Jewishness isn't just my religion. Whether or not I keep shabbat, I'm still Jewish. If I cook mac-n-cheese in a pot and then make chicken soup in the same pot, I'm still Jewish. Even if I wear pants and a tank top, I'm still Jewish.

Because being Jewish isn't just being in a religious category. For me, and a majority of Jews (not forgetting about converts, love y'all), being Jewish is in our DNA.

You can take the Jew out of Judaism, but you can't take the Judaism out of the Jew. (It seemed better before I wrote it.)

We are Jewish not because of a religious category, but also an ethnic category. And the world has only very recently decided we are white. But even now, we aren't treated as such.

You know, my perspective shifted due to a conversation about arm hair with my dad and sister.

We were sitting in a restaurant and my sister was wearing a t-shirt, showing her arms. At this point, I still thought of us as "just white" and my "Jews aren't white" views were of the "well I don't get to claim that for myself" (idk why to be honest). This conversation changed everything.

Anyway, my sister was complaining, as middle schoolers do, and mentioned her very fuzzy arms. My dad responded, "Well of course, you're Middle Eastern."

I was shocked.

I knew my parents are from Eastern Europe, and that we don't look Eastern European, and I just thought of myself as "generic white" even though I knew I was 100% ethnically Jewish.

That changed.

I wasn't "generic white" but rather I was a white-passing Jew. I look white, I know that. But I still have some traits that, when taken on their own, aren't typically European at all. They're Middle Eastern.

It was my first time really hearing a Jew define being ethnically Jewish in this way, as opposed to a goy, and it was world-changing.

Finally, I let myself take my feelings about antisemitism seriously.

Do you understand why society forcibly defining all of us as "just white" is so dangerous? It lets people easily dismiss antisemitism. Because we live in a society where "anti-white racism doesn't exist" is accepted as a common fact. (I am offering no opinions on this, only stating it as a societal observation.) So if Jews are white, how can antisemitism exist? How can it really be serious?

That's why we need to define being Jewish ourselves. If we let the world do it, not only does it harm us personally (as it did when I would constantly dismiss my own feelings and gaslight myself into thinking I was making a big deal out of nothing) but it also harms us on the community scale. It's dangerous.

Jews define what it means to be Jewish. Jews define antisemitism. Jews define Judaism.

The world deserves no role in this except to listen and accept it, as they'd be expected to do for any other minority.

Jews aren't white. There are white-passing Jews, sure, but even we deal with antisemitism.

#jumblr #jewish #judaism #jew #proud israeli #israel solidarity #opinion #discourse #antisemitism #jews define judaism #jews define antisemitism

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sugawarassoulmate · 6 months

Text

no nut november - nov 15

making it halfway isn't so bad...

professor!sugawara & enemies to lovers!kita

word count: 353 & 429

cw: fem!reader, age gap relationship (reader is in their 20s/suga is in his late 30s), college student/professor relationship, oral (f receiving), hate sex, name-calling, minors dni

professor!sugawara

"so you don't want to have sex?" sugawara asks bluntly, confused by the weird challenge you were proposing to him

he's aware of the age gap between you two but it's never really come up before (except from explaining the occasional meme to him)

but when you came into his office to talk about some weird bet you made with your friends, his old man brain couldn't comprehend it.

"we can have sex, i just can't finish," you trail off, probably realizing how dumb you sounded. "i mean, i can just blow you or something."

that makes sugawara look up from the papers he's grading, hazel eyes staring at you once again.

"you can't cum?" he asks, quirking his brown when you nod your head. "what's the point then?"

you try to explain to him that it's a test of endurance, a fun game between your friends.

as you ramble on, sugawara clears the papers off his desk, putting them in a drawer where they wouldn't be tampered with

"are you done?" he asks when you finally take a breath. you nod once more and sugawara gets up and motions for you to sit on his desk.

"kou—professor...," you fix yourself before sugawara could reprimand you, remembering that he doesn't appreciate being called by his first name when the two of you are still on campus.

your words fall of deaf ears with sugawara sitting you down anyways, long fingers reaching for the button of your jeans.

"did you really think i wouldn't let you cum?" sugawara asks, swiftly tugging your pants down your legs. "you think i'd just let you take care of me without returning the favor?"

sugawara crouches before you, pushing your panties to the side to be met with your already wet cunt.

"when have i ever been that selfish?" sugawara's thumb easily finds your clit, making your legs shake and thighs clench. "look at this pretty, pussy. gonna make it cream on my tongue."

sugawara dives in and you're putty in his hands, cumming in a matter of minutes and completely forgetting all about the foolish bet.

enemies to lovers!kita

kita knew what you were trying to do and he wasn't going to fall for it

at least...he's trying his very best not to fall for it

when you heard that kita was thinking about participating in atsumu's dumb bet, you couldn't stop teasing him

"of course atsumu would come up with this," you snorted. "he cries when he gets a crumb of pussy."

but lately kita's noticed you've been trying to get his attention—trying to get him to break

from wearing that perfume he's mentioned somewhat liking in the past to bending down in front of him while wearing the shortest skirt you own

kita is above your tactics...for the most part, ignoring the small surges of pleasure he feels in his crotch

when you ask him to come over, he says yes without thinking

you don't ever invite kita to your place unless it's to fuck but he finds himself sitting on your couch watching a movie

of course, you couldn't let him off that easily as you wore the skimpiest camisole that had your tits practically spilling out

but then you're slightly grazing his arm or leaning over so kita can see down your shirt and it's so stupid.

kita would never fall for that, it's completely beneath him.

he has complete control over his emotions, he has discipline, he's not weak minded

but he's still just a man at the end of the day

"yer so fuckin' annoying," kita says finally, pushing you into the couch cushions and getting on top.

"i know," you smirk, your stupid ego absolutely buzzing

"i fuckin' hate you,"

"i know," you say again as kita tears through both of your clothes to push his cock inside you

kita whispers the most obscene insults in your ear, calling you things he would never say in public but you've royally pissed him off and he shows it by fucking harder than he ever has before

each stroke of his fat cock has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your brain turned to mush

he has you creaming around him but he doesn't let up, fucking you through multiple orgasms

instead of cumming in you like he usually does, kita pulls out at the last moment to jerk himself off, sending hot, thick ropes of his cum on your stomach

your bliss quickly turns to disgust, shoving kita away as you bitch about the mess he left behind

"you're such a dick!" you whine, scurrying over to your bathroom

"i know," kita says, not too far behind you

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara smut #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara koushi smut #koshi sugawara smut #kita smut #kita x reader #shinsuke kita x reader #kita shinsuke smut #professor!suga #enemies to lovers!kita #no nut november 🍑#🥀#🥀suga #🥀kita

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oneforthemunny · 12 days

Note

Mafia!eddie Break my heart (pls put it back together) angst+fluff

you ask and you shall receive. i am not liable for the pain and suffering this blurb may cause. lol. also this is pre- bea obviously. angst with a little fluff (little unresolved). also contains mafia themes and some mentions of violence but nothing graphic.

"Would you ever... want kids?"

Eddie's body went still, rigid like it did when he opened the door and saw a fed standing there, or when he saw Gareth battered and bleeding after being jumped and robbed by a rival. A fear that ran through his body and left him unmoving, body snapping into a survival mode that was rare in the comfort of his own bedroom- rare with you.

You looked up, brows furrowing in the dim light of the room. "Ed?" You hummed, taking in his stoic expression, cold and unmoving. "What? Did I-I said something wrong?"

"No," Eddie swallowed, throat tight but voice coming out even. "No, I just- Where's this coming from?" He looked down at you, eyes scanning over every single detail of your features.

You looked down sheepishly towards your hand rested on Eddie's chest, engagement ring bright, glistening in the moonshine that crept in between the curtains. "I dunno." You mumbled, burning with embarrassment. "I just- I was just thinking about it the other day."

"I thought we talked about it." Eddie's tone was harsher than he meant it to, throat strangling his words.

"I know," You mumbled, face falling in disappointment. "Just... Never mind."

"No," Eddie shook his head. "Baby, you know... You know I don't want kids. I thought I was pretty clear when I told you that." Early in your relationship, what felt like a lifetime ago, when you were just getting serious, when it was all becoming real, you'd brought it up. He'd told you that he didn't want them, didn't want to be like his dad and bring a kid into this "shit show".

That was so long ago. Things had changed, you and Eddie had gone through so much, engaged and planning to go through so much more. You thought maybe, just maybe, he might have changed his mind.

The look on his face, bordering on horrified, told you he hadn't.

"You were, just- I'm sorry, just forget it." You huffed, pushing off his chest, rolling over to your side of the bed, desperately trying to ignore the burning in your throat.

"Hey, c'mon," Eddie's hand reached out for yours, trying to stop you. "Don't do this. Talk to me. Where's this coming from?"

You swallowed down your tears, trying to even your own voice. "It's just," Your voice shook. "I just thought maybe you... you changed your mind." You looked at Eddie with watery eyes.

"Baby," Eddie cooed, hand sliding up your arm comfortingly. "I'm not changing my mind on that."

Your heart fell, pulling your arm away from him harshly. "Wait, hey- Where are you going?" Eddie huffed, leaning to smack on the light.

You fumbled out of bed, reaching for your nightgown that had been discarded on the ground, hoping Eddie couldn't hear the sobs you were trying to muffle.

"What- Why are you so upset?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "What is going on with you? You knew how I felt-"

"-Yeah, I did." You snapped. "But I didn't think you'd be so- so final on it." It was stupid, you knew it was, stupid to ever think for a moment that he would change his mind. But he'd been so good with your nephew, so sweet and so... so natural when he held him and rocked him. You'd just thought maybe, maybe it would be different now.

"Was I not clear?" Eddie scoffed lightly, throwing a hand up. "Did I say something that made you think I'd changed my mind?"

"No, you- just forget it." You snapped, wiping your tears away quickly. "Just fucking forget it."

"Wait, hold on," Eddie stood, voice booming when you started to leave. "What's going on? What's your problem?"

"Nothing!" You shrilled, refusing to look at him. "I'm just sleeping in the guest room-"

"-No, you're not." Eddie shook his head, finality in his tone. "Turn around and talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Where this is coming from."

Your lip wobbled, a wave of tears threatening to spill over that you tried to swallow down. "Y-You know, you don't have to be so final about it." You turned, glaring at him. "Like having a baby with me would be the worst thing in the world."

Eddie gawked. "Did I say that? I never fucking said that, so don't start putting words in my mouth-"

"-You didn't have to say it!" You yelled. "I mean, I get why you were so passionate about it before, but now... You're telling me you don't ever even think about it? You've never once imagined what it would be like to have a baby with me?"

Eddie's breath stuttered, mind blanking for a moment. Of course, he had. From the moment you met the boys, cooed over them and spoiled them, all he thought about was how good of a mom you'd be. How good of a mom you'd be if you had your own little baby.

"N-No." Eddie stammered lightly, heart lurching when your face fell, choking on a sob, turning towards the door. "Wait, wait, don't- come back here." Flinging the blanket off the bed, scrambling after you.

The dogs were in the hallway, Vecna and Lucifer following you closely, ears high on alert for who caused your upset. "Baby, come back here. I-I didn't- it's not you."

"N-No," Your chest shook with sobs, stomping down the stairs. "It's fine."

"Don't do this, just-just listen to me. It's not you. It's never been you, it's me. You know it's me, and-and this." Eddie frantically motioned to the space around him, a house bought with blood money, money he'd gotten from his job.

You didn't reply, a sniffly, wet sob his only response. The dogs footsteps blending with yours, down the hall and to the guest room, the door snapping shut echoing through the house.

Eddie ran a hand down his face, taking a slow, deep breath to try and control his flustered emotions, trying to gather his racing thoughts before he went to try and make things right, unsure of where to start.

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creedslove · 6 months

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WHO KNEW? 💍💔 - PART TWO

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

"You took my hand, you showed me how

You promised me you'd be around (...)

I took your words and I believed in everything you said to me (...)

If someone said three years from now, you'd be long gone, I'd stand up and punch them out, 'cause they're all wrong

I know better, 'cause you said forever, and ever, who knew?"

Summary: even against your wishes, your bond with the Millers straightens and a series of events causes you and Joel to get closer, enough to spike the fear of falling again for him

• This is the second part of Who Knew? 💍💔 Which was also inspired by this amazing HEADCANON request

Warnings: angst, broken hearts, mentions of divorce, mentions of infidelity, fluff, age gap (Joel is four to five years older than reader and the time skip is 12 to 14 years (Sarah's age) but feel free to imagine whatever you want), house breaking, protective Joel, sexual tension

A/N: so besties, I've been obsessed with this idea, and I hope you enjoy it as well! I mean, I've been writing a little more than 1k words a day, there were some parts I thought were good and some were not so good, as a final result, I don't know, I really hope you all enjoy it my lovelies! It's so hard to resist Joel, isn't it?

10.4k words

If someone told you one day, after a decade of being divorced from Joel due to the huge heartbreak he put you through, your bond with the Millers would straighten once more, you would stand up and punch them out. It was so ridiculously absurd to think you would become closer to the man who chewed you up and spat you out and even if he had indeed changed and was a better person, wasn't enough to make you forget what happened. Yes, you had forgiven him, but not forgotten what went on between the two of you, and even if a part of you desperately begged you to stay away and never talk to Joel again, destiny was pretty ironic at its doings and made you and his daughter, Sarah, become friends. You didn't mean to, and you were sure that if it were up to him, he wouldn't have said yes either, but you never knew she was his daughter and he never knew his daughter's friend was… well, you.

After he did some working at your home, he had asked you out, which you actually considered, but then dismissed the idea completely, there was no way you would put yourself through that again, even if he was even more handsome than when he was young, even if he did make your heart race and pound like you were some inexperienced teenager and even if late at night before falling asleep you closed your eyes and replayed in your mind the last kiss you cherished. Even if you focused hard enough and could still feel his warmth, the heavy grip of his hand on your waist, the way his beard that now was sprinkled with grays here and there scratched your skin and how Joel Miller still had the best kiss you'd ever tried. For a moment it had felt so right, even if it was wrong, and a hidden part of you, the part that just maybe didn't despise Joel that much often allowed you to wonder what would actually happen if you had given him a chance to take you out, would it have been really that bad? You would've gone somewhere to drink or grab something to eat, hang out, perhaps even dance and of course you would end up in Joel's bed, hardly any woman would pass up this opportunity. For a moment you wish it could've been that way, but unfortunately, you and Joel were done. After you turned him down you still shared a last kiss and then you both went back to your own lives, the only thing that connected the two of you in the past was the failed marriage you had just as the only thing that connected the two of you in the present was Sarah.

She was the loveliest girl you'd ever met in your life, so smart and sweet, always kind to everyone, responsible and even if you had had problems with her dad, you couldn't help but feel sorry for her and the fact her own mother didn't want to be around; it sounded crazy to you that woman could give up her chance of being the mother of a wonderful little girl like Sarah, even if Joel had killed any kind of desire of getting involved with someone to the point of building up a family. Not to mention Joel himself, he was a handsome, hard-working man, and he had been a good husband before Angela ruined your life. You knew she wasn't the only one to blame, Joel was a real dick, but now you certainly had two reasons to hate her: the fact she ruined your marriage and that she abandoned her daughter.

After Joel took over the renovations in your home, Sarah continued coming over and even if you felt sort of guilty from keeping the truth from her, you also knew it wasn't your place to tell her, if anything, you and Joel needed to do it together. You couldn't ruin the perfect image she had of her dad, because he was a great father to her and no one could deny that. Overall, you really enjoyed her presence; it wasn't uncommon for her to tag along during lunch time or spend the afternoon reading on your couch. Sometimes you wondered if she didn't have enough friends to hang out with, after all, Joel was busy throughout the day and any teen would take the opportunity of freedom to do whatever shit they wanted with them without having to give their parents the time of the day, but that didn't make any sense, not with Sarah being a sociable girl like she was, so when the realization that she sort of envisioned you as a motherly figure at some level, you felt quite shocked. If life hadn't pulled some unfunny tricks along your way, she could've easily been yours and Joel's daughter. You tried to shake it off and pretend she didn't see you that way, but looking back at your interactions it was undeniable; Sarah opened up to you about things she certainly didn't with Joel, from the pain of periods, to problems with girl friends and boys. It was amusing until Sarah began questioning you about it, asking you about your love life, past relationships and why you were single. You felt bad about not telling her the whole truth, but it was a complicated situation. Especially when she came up with the idea she really considered it to be genius

"Why don't you date my dad?!"

She asked you one lazy afternoon, making you choke softly at the water you were drinking, looking at her shocked and speechless for a while, her sweet smile was impossible to make you get mad at her, and above all it was a genuine question, she wasn't just messing with you.

"What?! My dad looks good, he works hard and he would make you very happy!" She cheered innocently, which caused your heart to sink.

"No… I wouldn't date your dad, he's incompatible… I mean, we are incompatible, I'm sure we wouldn't get along"

"Why?! Is it because you have more money than us? Dad does say you are way out of his league"

And you were shocked and speechless once more. Joel had talked about you to Sarah? And he had told her you were out of his league? This information should have made you scoff and roll your eyes, and not make your cheeks heat up while you blushed.

"No Sarah, Jesus no! It's got nothing to do with money or anything… I mean, your dad works hard and he should earn more than he does, because he is very dedicated and well, an honest working man like Joel can be worth a lot more than a rich guy, trust me" you sighed as she stared at you intently "but the thing is… I've been married once, I was too young, it was disastrous, it didn't work obviously, I got hurt and well… your dad sort of reminds me of him, my ex-husband I mean… It's hard to explain, but no, I wouldn't date your father"

You hated that you lied to her, well, half lies at least, but you wished you could be honest, Sarah was an important part of your life and it would be a lot easier if you three would come clean about everything that happened; on the other hand, you couldn't even imagine the mess you would make in her poor little head, as it was pretty messy and fucked up for you as well whenever you stopped to think you were friends with your ex-husband's daughter, the one he had with the woman he cheated on you with and that simply walked out and abandoned him. It even sounded made up, so you offered her just the piece of information you could. Sarah reached out to you, taking your hand in hers and caressing your knuckles, she gave you a sympathetic look and nodded

"I'm so sorry… I can't even imagine how you must feel, he didn't deserve you anyway, you can be sure you are way better than him, and well, I am just glad dad isn't like that, he's a nice guy, he would never do such a thing to anyone. I just feel like he deserved more too, you know? That woman… my mom, even if she shouldn't be called that, just broke his heart and disappeared. Uncle Tommy told me she never really wanted to have me in the first place and if it weren't for dad, you know…" She looked down trying to hide the thick sadness that fogged her face and it was your turn to reach to her, taking her hand, but seeing it wasn't enough as you got up and walked to Sarah, giving her a hug.

"I don't know, I just wish dad would find a nice girl like yourself and then he could be happy, I mean, we all could…"

•••

Joel groaned at how annoying his brother really was, he didn't get why Tommy would always pry into his fucking business instead of handling his own life, Joel was a grown man and he didn't need anyone trying to set him up with women or just inviting him out out of pity. He could take care of himself; he didn't need to meet women or be in a relationship, he was fine the way he was, his life was already way too hectic the way it was, whenever he felt lonely he could just pick up some woman at a bar and get laid and then go back to his everyday routine. And yet both Tommy and Sarah kept on getting on his nerves, always suggesting him to one girl or another or trying to drag him on double dates. When Sarah had casually told him to ask you out, completely oblivious to the fact he had already done it and you shut him out, Joel was at a loss of words, he tried playing cool but he couldn't deny the mess his feelings had become. He wasn't sure how to suppress them, not after that one kiss. That must've meant something, you wouldn't just give him a speech of how uninterested you were and how you two would never work out again and then kiss him like that, you probably still had feelings for him, if not feelings, at least desire, and as much as he would love to act on it, he didn't want to force things up, to he pushy and make you uncomfortable. He'd hurt you too many times to learn that if you'd asked him to stay away, he should stay away. Not only that, Tommy was completely onboard with everything you had said, to him, the fact Joel was crushing on his ex-wife more than a decade after breaking her heart was a clear sign of madness. He figured Joel still had feelings for you, even if Tommy wasn't one to settle down, he couldn't understand how his brother went from madly in love with his pretty young wife to a terrible husband and finally the asshole who dumped her for another woman. He knew that the passion Joel felt for Angela was strong, but even more than just a burning passion, lay that undying love he'd felt for you, and he was sure it wouldn't simply go away, which didn't necessarily mean that Joel surrendering to that love was a smart move. Quite the opposite, it was probably the dumbest thing Tommy had ever heard in his entire life. How could Joel even keep any hopes of getting with you again?! It hadn't worked, too many people got hurt and all he wanted was that his brother could actually see that, so he simply discouraged Joel from getting anywhere near you, as if it wasn't bad enough Sarah had been dragged accidentally into this story, he didn't want his brother suffering around. So he set his brother up on a date, something that Joel hated with passion but since he was feeling particularly hopeless that night he ended up accepting it.

He was usually very against being set up on blind dates, but Joel had created a depressing ritual of always going out and grabbing a drink whenever he came across the date that would've marked his wedding anniversary with you. Joel often heard men were forgetful and didn't remember important dates, but he had never been like that, always keeping the important dates fresh in his mind was something common, ever since he was a child, especially when they brought him strong emotions, such as the ones he shared with you. He thought it was a little stupid at first, but he found out that it helped him cope with the guilt and the doubts that always clouded up his mind. He would sit at a bar and wonder where you could be, how your life would have been like and if you ever thought of him. It sort of became his thing, but this year, for the first time, he knew the exact answers to his questions, and it was so odd, he decided to take Tommy's suggestions to go out with a friend of his brother's girlfriend, he didn't really care nor paid attention, he just exchanged numbers with her, showered and got dressed after work and headed for the restaurant.

And just as he had predicted, it had been another disastrous date. Not that the girl wasn't pretty, she was, but she was just exhausting; her conversation was tiring, her subjects were boring and overall, she just wasn't you. Joel didn't understand why he was having it so bad for you, he knew he shouldn't, he should forget about it all and focus on something else, but as much as he tried not to think of you, more he thought of you. It was maddening. He couldn't help himself but compare the two of you: you were prettier, smarter, funnier, you dressed and smelled better than that random stranger he saw himself being forced to have dinner with. And he wished with all his heart you could be on that date with him; if only you gave him just one chance to show you he was a better man, he would never hurt you like he did before, give you a chance to redeem himself and make you happy exactly the way you deserved it, he would be the happiest man in the world. Life wasn't gonna make things easier for him, and deep down, he knew he didn't even deserve it in the first place, so he tried once more paying attention to his date, which didn't last very long and the moment he saw the opportunity to leave, he grabbed it like a life preserver in the middle of the ocean and headed to a bar - alone, and only after paying for the check, after all, Joel Miller was still a gentleman.

Your wedding anniversary had always been a tricky date for you; there were years you went completely unaffected by it and years you felt like dying. For the first time, however, you were closer to Joel than you'd always been in the years before, and because of that, you decided you deserved better than just stay home and have some bland dinner by yourself, you would go out and perhaps meet other people… And your plan went really smoothly for a while; you got to a nice bar, dressed nicely, dragging some male attention towards you and even got paid a drink by a handsome stranger who waved from afar. It felt like a promising night, until Joel Miller walked in and looked for a table, and he looked devilish handsome as he did so. You bit your lips feeling the alcohol rushing towards one direction at the same time you censored yourself: no matter how lonely and needy you were feeling nor how handsome he was, you couldn't simply feel the hots for him. As if he'd just read your mind, Joel turned around, his eyes falling right on you, his gaze softened up and you saw him running his tongue through his lips, deciding whether or not to walk towards you.

Of course he did it.

The moment he approached, Joel noticed the sadness in your eyes and he was sure you were the for the exact same reason he was, and it was just another motive to get closer to you; taking the chair next to you, he asked the bartender for a drink and as soon as he had it in hands, he stared at you.

"Happy wedding anniversary, darling" he tilted his glass against yours, as you just nodded and took a long sip.

"Happy wedding anniversary, handsome" you replied in a mockery tone using the old nickname you used for him. Handsome was a word that really described him, your Joel. He had always been a handsome man, but how well time treated him was impressive to say the least. He looked so good, he was bigger, broad and stronger. His dark hair had become a little grayer, just like a few patches all over his beard, and that suited him like a damn velvet glove. The way his shirt hung tight around his shoulders and down his arms, eyes lingering on him for way too long, as a warmth spread through your cheek and Joel chuckled

"Funny how you still blush when I'm around… Exactly like old times" he grinned and took another sip of his drink, which was enough to break you free from the spell you were under.

"What are you doing here? I thought I'd made myself pretty clear, Joel" you sighed and stared down into your glass.

"I'm doing the same as you are, darling… I'm thinking about all the bad decisions I made in life. You have been pretty clear, I ain't going to bother you, but I just missed you… it's so weird to see Sarah getting home everyday so excited over you, talking about how nice and awesome you are and I have to pretend not to know about it"

"Yeah? And you think it's easy for me to spend the whole afternoon listening to her talking about what an amazing dad you are? How you are awesome but very unlucky to have had your heartbroken by her mom?" You raised your eyebrow and chuckled

"She really say that?" Joel's expression showed a slight shock "she said I was an amazing dad?!"

You tilted your head at his surprise and bit your lips, perhaps it was just the drinks you had that softened you up a little, but when you saw it, you placed your hand on his arm and shook your head

"Yeah? Why are you so surprised? You are an amazing dad, Joel… that girl loves you more than anything in the world, she idolizes you, of course, she thinks you work too much and that you could both spend some more time together, but other than that, it's clear you are a great father. I was very surprised when we met again, to see your change, I never really thought you would become a better person, not after what happened, but it's nice to see Sarah changed that" you smiled softly at him, and that just melted Joel's rough heart, he immediately took your hand before you could move it away and caressed your knuckles softly, his gaze still making you pathetically shy, as he pursed his lips and you remembered how good they've always felt on your own and also all over your body.

"You know she also sees you as a mother figure, right?!"

"Yeah, I was reluctant to admit it at first, but she does… I guess she needed that, you know? A woman she could talk to about girl stuff, things she cannot talk to her dad or her uncle Tommy" you smiled "I really like Sarah and I'm very glad you allow us to be friends, I understand it is a really odd situation for you, as it is for me, but I like her a lot… you know, if things had been different, she could've been my daughter… our daughter" you sighed "things could've been different Joel… you know what made so hard for me to forgive you? It's not exactly you falling for Angela, of course, rejection hurts a lot, but sometimes it happens, sometimes you fall for someone you shouldn't have, but what still breaks my heart is that you lied to me, you played with me instead of coming clean. You just kept me around even if you didn't want me anymore, so just you would have a comfortable option in case it didn't work with her, and that was what made me feel worse… it made me feel unworthy, because you could still have been considerate of me and just break things up before it all happened" you shrugged

"Darling, I-" he squeezed your hand tighter but you pulled it away

"I'm not trying to make you upset or anything, all I am saying is that things could have been different between us, they should have been at least, if not staying married, having a child and building a family together, then at least having your honesty…"

"What can I do so you forgive me?" Joel asked, his voice breaking a little as he tried to hide the emotion growing at any minute.

"I've already forgiven you Joel, I already told you that… but I can't forget what happened, it will always haunt me" you sighed "too many things happened and as much as I had loved you, I think I would never be able to trust you"

"Please, I have changed, it kills me to know I've hurt you so much, I wish I could go back in time and undo everything that I did.. please, darling" Joel begged you with those brown soft eyes, his hand cupping your cheek in a warm caress and even if you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch for a while, you knew you couldn't let yourself fall into his touch, because if you did, there would be no turning back.

"If Angela returned today, Joel… imagine if she came back and tried claiming you and Sarah, would you still care about me? Because I don't see this happening, Joel. Honestly, what I think is that you want me because you feel bad about what happened and because you couldn't have who you really wanted…"

His expression was indecipherable and for a second you thought he would say something, but all he did was pull you closer, gluing your lips together in an urgent kiss, you could've fought it, but you didn't; instead, you kissed him back, taking your hands into his curls and tugging at them more and more each time Joel pulled you even closer.

Only when the two of you broke the kiss, he looked into your eyes, his thumb stroking your bottom lip gently

"There isn't anyone I want but you, I never stopped loving you, darling… even when Angela was around, she couldn't compare to you" his words shattered your heart, as much as you wanted to believe that, you still couldn't. You grabbed his hand and sighed

"Don't do this again, Joel, please. You've ruined too many things for me already…" you got up and said goodbye "we can't, you know it"

"What have I ruined for you, darling? Tell me and I'll fix it, please"

You chuckled sad and shrugged

"Joel, you even ruined Queen for me'

You walked away from him, leaving him there with his drink and his thoughts, a puzzled look out of confusion in his face trying to figure out exactly what the hell you meant by that. Just as he saw you disappear out of the door, he realized what meant as he paid attention to the lyrics of the song playing in background:

"Love of my life, you hurt me

You've broken my heart

And now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see (...)"

And even if Joel wanted to be rational and convince himself he'd lost you for good, his heart still insisted on wanting what he couldn't have.

•••

Your car parked in Joel's driveway was the last thing he expected to see that night, after working excruciatingly and failing his promise of getting home earlier to have dinner with his daughter. He knew Sarah was probably waiting, disappointed but also used to it, full of having some sandwich or any other snack she could find. He cursed himself for getting so caught up at work, he didn't mean to, but he had done it again, after all, he had to attend an important meeting with a possible new client and then he would need to wait for the arrival of a bunch of materials that had been delayed for weeks, and even if he knew his daughter was safe with you, he still felt upset to have not given her the attention she needed. However, you had never been to his house before, that was something that you established from the very beginning and when he kissed you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, Joel was certain that was the end of seeing you, occasionally or not. He was sure you'd never shut Sarah out, you liked her for real, and she reciprocated the feelings; besides, you were a decent enough human being who knew you didn't have to mix things up. So, the fact you were indeed at his home, was concerning to him, who parked and immediately left, getting inside wanting to see what was going on. The moment the door opened in one hard swing, you got off the couch and walked to your ex-husband

“Hey Joel” you said, a little shy, suddenly, the fact you were standing in the middle of his home uninvited made you extremely embarrassed, as it felt you were somehow intruding on his intimacy. Since the divorce Joel had moved into a new house, bigger and cozier, a nice backyard with a decent swimming pool was something that drew your attention; you smiled at yourself, knowing how much Joel loved swimming, so it made your heart warm to see he had accomplished something that seemed quite small, but it meant a lot to you.

At first, when you saw the house, you couldn't help but be invaded by a furious jealousy of the possibility Joel had built that house for her, Angela, instead of you. Luckily, Sarah clarified he only started to build it when she was a toddler and that Tommy helped him, and that's why he often crashed there. You chuckled to yourself, that was typical of Tommy, but overall you felt proud of Joel and everything he achieved, you knew he had potential and it was great that he actually worked on it.

“Where's Sarah?!” He asked with worry and called her name once more, louder this time, frowning as you shushed him.

“I'm sorry I'm here, but she had a fever felt sick, I wanted to call you but she asked me not to an-” you were cut off by Joel simply climbing up the stairs and heading straight to Sarah's room, he felt a mix of guilt and worry weighing in his heart at the fact his baby daughter was sick and he couldn't be there for her. He barged into her room, normally, that would be enough to startle her, but instead, he found her peacefully asleep, clung tight to her pillow, dressed in her regular PJs. He touched her forehead wanting to check her temperature, but luckily her skin wasn't warm anymore. He looked at the door and found you there, arms folded and looking like you wanted to say something else, and then he just realized how rude he'd actually been to you by simply walking away and letting you talk to a brick wall. He placed a gentle kiss on his daughter's forehead and closed the door behind him.

“I'm sorry darling, I was worried and you should've called me…”

“It's okay, Joel… as I was saying, I wanted to call you, but Sarah asked me not to, she said you were having an important meeting and you would be home soon, anyway” you licked your lips as you realized he was extremely late and probably feeling so guilty about it all.

“You know, she was at my place and she was feeling a little down, at first I thought she was just upset because she wasn't invited to Melissa's party an-”

“That girl is a bitch” Joel said angrily and in such a defensive way that it was both cute he was so protective of his daughter at the same time it sounded hilarious to see him cursing another teenage girl. However, you had to agree with him, Melissa was indeed a bitch.

“Yeah, I know right?! Anyway, I noticed Sarah was burning up with fever and since she didn't want me to call you, I decided to bring her home and stay with her. So I asked her to take a cool shower, gave her some tylenol and made her some chicken soup with the things I found in your kitchen…” you both went downstairs and stopped in his living room. You tried not paying attention to how good your ex-husband looked after his long hour shift; his sweaty shirt so tight against his broad chest, his messy hair and that stressed attitude that would always melt away with a very intense orgasm.

“You made soup?!” Joel frowned a little shocked and interrupted your drifting thoughts.

“Y-yeah, why? Did I do bad?”

“No” Joel smiled softly and shook his head “not at all, it's just that… I haven't had your food in so long and you've always been a good cook, that's all” the nostalgia he felt was so big and it also warmed your heart, nodding at him “well, I made some more in case you wanted to have dinner too, it's in the kitchen, you can help yourself if you'd like…” you offered him and grabbed your purse “can you call me tomorrow and let me know if Sarah is better?”

Joel grabbed your arm gently and shook his head

“Don't go, not yet… just have dinner with me, talk to me for a while, I promise I won't try to kiss you or anything. Just keep me company, it's rare to have people over, it's usually Sarah and I and usually Tommy, but when they are out, it's just me” he looked at you with a sad expression, and you understood perfectly: loneliness.

Coming back home to an empty bed at night. Not having anyone to rely on, to hold, to give you support and affection, to make love. So you nodded and smiled at him, sitting down with him at the table and grabbed yourself a plate, giggling at how hungry he really was, eating as if he hadn't seen food in months. He raised his eyes at you and stopped chewing, blushing as you wouldn't stop staring.

“You know, you and Sarah have the same sad puppy eyes when you are sick?!” Joel raised his eyebrow at you and you laughed softly “same red teary eyes, sniffing as someone takes care of you, it's actually adorable”

“You think I'm adorable?!”

“Adorable isn't exactly what you are Joel…” you said letting your eyes wandering all over him and having your ex-husband to smirk at you

“Yeah? You think I'm attractive?”

“You know you are attractive, Joel, now shut up and eat” you frowned softly and had dinner with him; it was a pleasant moment, spending some time together, without any talks about the divorce or the past, just two old acquaintances who perhaps had some kind of feelings for each other and shared a meal together. There weren't accusations, apologies or tears, just mundane, regular conversations and laughter. It was nice to have that moment with Joel, as you both progressed in a conversation about your lives and how things had changed over the years, truly catching up instead of arguing. When the subjected revolved around Sarah again, your ex-husband couldn't contain his curiosity anymore:

“You never wanted kids, darling?”

You looked down at your empty plate, a glimmer of sadness crossing your eyes as you shook your head and stared at him

“Not after you, Joel… I used to want a kid, before, when we were together, but not anymore. I feel it's too late for me now, even if I'm still young, it just feels impossible, you know?”

Joel's hand rested on top of yours, he caressed it very gently and looked at you. He sighed knowing exactly what you meant, knowing you actually meant having a baby together and of course he blew it once more. He couldn't even describe the remorse he felt, even if you had spent the past half an hour having a rare moment of bliss tougher, he knew he would never be able to erase what had happened between the two of you. He wished he had a chance to do so, but deep inside, even if he did, he knew the damage had been done.

“It's alright, Joel…” you said shyly and got up as you picked the plates and piled them in the sink, he immediately walked to you,

“Let me handle the dishes, it's the least I can do, you know… after you took care of my daughter and cooked for us. I'm sure Sarah loved it, we aren't used to having homemade food” he chuckled as you nodded

“Yeah, I figured, that's why I decided to make something else…” you said as you walked to the oven and opened it, showing Joel the freshly baked batch of chocolate chips cookies. He widened his eyes like a child and smiled big.

“This is your favorite, I figured it was Sarah's as well” you said sweetly and got the tray out of the oven, although you mumbled something a couple of times, Joel hadn't replied to you, as he kept washing the plates without interruption. You didn't get why he ignored your question, it made no sense; just a few minutes ago you were both having a nice, sweet time together and suddenly he wasn't going to say anything? That was odd. You placed the cookies on the balcony and called him again, to which you got no reply so you just shook his arm a little calling him again.

He turned around and watched you

“What is it?” He asked with a sweet smile, making you even more confused

“I called you a couple of times and you didn't say anything… is everything alright with you?” And at that question his face fell and it was impossible for Joel to hide his sadness. He licked his lips and nodded

“Yeah… it's just that… I'm kinda deaf in my right ear” he blushed and looked down in shame “I had a work accident some years ago and something blew up when I stood too close to it and well…” he shrugged and you felt your heart sink. Your poor Joel, always such a hardworking man, despite everything between you both, you never wanted him to be that injured. It saddened you to see how ashamed he seemed of it, even if he had no reason to be ashamed of it at all, and suddenly it made all sense to you why he was always subtly tilting his head to the left or standing towards that direction when he talked to you.

“I can hear it just fine, got used to it by now, but if you mumble something on my right it's kinda hard to me” the simple and even innocent way he said that made you so sympathetic of him, but it was way more than just that. It made you want to hold him, to assure him it was fine and he was still nothing but perfect no matter what had happened.

“Oh Joel…” you whispered and held his head in both of your hands, gently, your fingers brushing against his thick beard as you got closer and rested your forehead against his “I'm so sorry honey” you whispered again and closed your eyes. He was determined to respect you and not get handsy with you, but the moment he saw you pulling him closer, he couldn't help doing the same; gripping your waist with large hands, just like he used to, exactly where they fit so well, he brought your bodies close together.

“Don't go, please… stay” he whispered back, his lips were almost on yours, everything felt so right at that moment even if it was wrong. You hated how it felt like playing with fire: it seemed beautiful and appealing but you would get burned no matter what.

“I'm sorry, you know I can't” you said, moving your lips just an inch further and connecting with his, earning a hungry kiss.

For someone who desperately wanted to keep away from their ex-husband, you were certainly doing a shitty job. He needed you as much as you needed him, you both wanted each other, but you broke the kiss. It couldn't happen, your relationship was as complicated as it was and you didn't want to deal with that responsibility later. His heavy breathing lingered on your skin, at the same time he placed a soft peck on your neck, knowing all your sweet spots, that devilish man Joel Miller was.

“You know you can call me, right? Anything you need, anything at all, just call me and I'll come running to you, darling, don't forget that” he whispered into your ear and more than a seducing invitation, it was a plea, from a hopelessly man in love who didn't know what to do to prove his worth.

•••

Joel's offer to call him whenever you needed was so tempting, because you didn't actually need to call him, but you wanted to. It made no sense, you were the one who wanted to keep your distance from him, but due to the latest events you found yourself wanting to see Joel each time more, just the thought of his presence brought you an excitement you tried not reading too much into it; you didn't want to admit you were crushing on your ex-husband, but then, how could you call the fact your heart raced when you saw him? How you blushed and felt sparkles whenever you touched him briefly - accidentally or not? It was tricky, it was a mess but it seemed Joel made you lose that filter that always kept you emotionally distant from everyone. After learning Sarah was alright, you felt relieved for her, and when she stopped by your home and thanked you for taking care of her, you felt that familiar warmth in your heart. It seemed the more your rational part fought for you to stay away, that you had been severely hurt by Joel and you couldn't afford giving him a chance to do the same for the second time, but your irrational side? The one driven by your feelings and desires?! That one only made you dive deeper into the Millers household. Your feelings for Sarah just grew, you were attached to her and she was attached to you, she found in you the female influence it lacked for years and she represented something you never had but wished you could. And her dad was something else… ever since that evening you spent together, having dinner, chatting and enjoying each other's company, Joel had told you you could call him anytime for any reason. It didn't matter if you wanted to talk, hang out or have him fix something at your place, he was at your will.

And then you weren't certain if your faucet was really leaking, or if your door was actually warped or if all of that had to do with the fact you were looking for an excuse to call Joel and see him. You didn't want to hire him and you didn't want to discuss feelings, talk about the past or hear all sorts of apologies, you wanted to have a nice, pleasant moment with him, just like you had the last time. It felt so familiar and yet so new; it was about the two of you being acquaintances but at the same time meeting each other, your older, more mature versions finally getting together and hitting off. That was the kind of interaction you wanted from Joel.

You just didn't know exactly how to initiate it, not without giving him any kind of hope or leading him into it.

So you decided to focus on work, like you'd been doing for over a decade. You liked your job, it was stressful as any other job in the world and the money was great. However, you had got so comfortable and used to working from home, the days you were forced to actually go to the office felt excruciating, but it was part of the deal and you had to do it. So you got up, got ready - not without texting Sarah to let her know you wouldn't be home that day - and went to do your business. It was also when you noticed something was wrong. You didn't know the car that was parked across the street, it was a little odd, as you got used to all your neighbors and it was such a calm neighborhood you simply noticed when there was someone from outside. Still, you shrugged and got into your own car, driving to work.

On your way back, all you wanted was a cool shower and some relaxing hours scattered on the couch, but you tensed up a bit when you spotted the same car you did in the morning still there. It had nothing indicating trouble, and yet, you had a gut feeling telling you it simply wasn't right, however, there was nothing you could really do about it. You thought of calling Joel, but you didn't want to risk sounding paranoid and overall crazy. What could you tell him?! That there was a car parked across the street?!

You groaned when you checked your email and saw you would have to attend a meeting at work in person the next day. You were so sure you'd solved everything up, so why would you have to go? It was probably one of those meetings that could be just a work email and it annoyed you to no end, but still, you had no other option other than attending so the next morning you were there, getting ready when you spotted the same car. You had no idea if it had spent the whole night there or if it had gotten there before you woke up, nonetheless, you were taken by the same feeling you did the day before, no matter if they were irrational or not, it was just overwhelming. After another day at work, you returned home and sighed relieved to see the car wasn't there. Maybe it had been just a paranoid episode, perhaps you were just reading too much into things and all the stress from work combined with your situation with Joel made you lose your grip on reality a little bit.

The fact was that after doing your regular house things, you decided to take a relaxing bath and sink yourself into your tub. Selecting the perfect bath bomb and adjusting the temperature, you got inside, groaning at how the warm water made your tense muscles relax and you could feel the knots undoing themselves; as you closed your eyes and relaxed, there was nothing clouding up your mind but Joel.

His handsome face, his smile, his curly graying hair. He was your Joel, but older, mode handsome, if that was even a thing, because Joel was definitely the most handsome man you'd ever met. You couldn't help yourself but picture him wrapping his strong arms around your body, perhaps a relaxing bath with Joel would feel so good, you wouldn't be able to to turn it down. Just to imagine his naked body holding yours was enough to spike so many things all over you. You didn't know if you'd ended up dozing off in the tub, but it was hard to say if any time had passed or not the moment you heard some noises around your house. You couldn't remember if you'd forgotten your TV on or something like that, you were sure you hadn't turned on the radio, but it was enough to feel goosebumps all over your skin. You left the tub, drying yourself as quick as possible and wrapping a bathrobe around your body, exiting the room as silently as you could, hearing whispering and steps all over the lower floor. You went to your room and looked outside the window, your heart racing the moment you spotted the same car you'd seen before. You didn't know what to do, you could feel the suffocating wave of anxiety taking over completely. You could hear their voices, because apparently there was more than one guy. They were robbing your home, but what would happen if they reached you? You immediately locked your bedroom door, so relieved to see your phone was thrown onto the bed. Grabbing it, you dialed the number you'd never forgotten.

•••

“Come on, darling, open up” Joel's voice was the first thing you registered after you made the call, hugged yourself against a corner of your room and closed your eyes. You had heard footsteps climbing the stairs and how the thieves banged on your door, but you remained as quiet as you could. Just praying someone would show up to save you. You'd called Joel and he called the cops on his way over, he had dropped everything he was doing when he heard the raw fear in your voice. It was horrible you had your home broken into, but it made it even worse to think of what two criminals could do with such a beautiful woman like yourself. So he grabbed Tommy and they both rushed towards your place. Arriving there almost at the same time as the cops did, finding your front door busted open and a lot of valuable things such as your TV and your laptop gone. He had a baseball bat in hands, ready to attack whoever threatened your physical integrity and when he got questioning looks from the cop, he cleared his throat and explained he was your ex-husband - and friend.

“Is that really you, Joel?” You asked in a little more than a whisper, so glad to know he was there. You walked to the door and unlocked it, seeing Joel's worried eyes scanning you to make sure you were unharmed. Only then, you realized you hadn't gotten dressed, still wrapped in your bathrobe, but it didn't matter, all you could think of was looking for shelter into his strong, safe arms, sinking your face into his chest at the same time Joel caressed your back up and down, his lips planted a kiss on top of your head and another one on your forehead, wanting to soothe you and show you how safe you were from now on. He was there for you, it wouldn't absolve him from what he'd done in the past, but that didn't even matter to you or Joel, the important thing was that he was there, he came as fast as he could only for you and he would do it a thousand times more if necessary; you both knew that.

“I got you, baby girl, I got you” Joel cooed at you, tightening the hug around your body and keeping you closer. And you had missed that embrace, you just belonged in it, and you never wanted to let go.

Joel held you through the whole process of talking to the cops, informing them about the strange car that was seen around your home and also listing every item they stole: your TV, an iPad, your laptop and your car. Even if you were safe among them, you couldn't help but feel that nervous, anxious feeling at the very possibility of being alone at home once more. Nothing happened in the end, but it could have happened, and though it sucked to have been robbed of so much valuable stuff, you weren't harmed, and that was what mattered the most to you and above all, Joel.

As the cops talked to Joel and assured they'd get in touch if any of it was found, he walked them to the door and turned back to you, finding you all shy and scared, hugging yourself and looking at him with sad eyes. You didn't want to be alone and you didn't want to have to ask him for company, you didn't want to sound whiny or pathetic, especially not after it was just a break-in without any physical damage.

“Come on, pack your bags and I'll take you home with me” Joel's voice broke the silence and made you stare at him surprised “it can be for a few days, but if you aren't comfortable with that, then let me take you at least for the night, I ain't leaving you alone. Sarah's out at her friends in a slumber party or something, you can take her bed, or mine and I'll sleep on the couch, it doesn't matter, just come…” he extended his hand to you, which you gladly took it, and made his way upstairs, waiting patiently as you grabbed a backpack and shoved a few clothes and accessories you would need. You couldn't even describe how you felt at Joel's kindness. You were so comforted, so glad to see you weren't alone and that he was willing to take care and protect you. It didn't take very long to get your backpack ready, wrapping your arms around his neck in another tight hug, thanking him for being so gentle and earning only reassuring and affectionate words.

Once you got to the truck, you were welcomed by a whiff of his familiar scent, it smelled like Joel, your Joel and your heart warmed. He glanced at you while he drove, still seeing the tension all over you and his hand rested on your knee “you must be hungry…”

“I am” you said, a little anxious and watched as he turned the wheel and changed streets. Even before getting to the address, you already knew where Joel was taking you: your favorite Taco place. You chuckled as you remembered that was your favorite date spot when you were painfully young; when life seemed so promising and Joel Miller was the man who made you stutter and sweat through your hands. Whenever he glanced towards you, your cheeks would heat up and you would feel like bursting into flames. And after you both got married, when things were still good, that was the place where he would stop by eventually, pick up some takeout and take home, as a way of spoiling and thanking you for taking care of him. As he parked, he smiled and cleared his throat.

“You know, this is our spot, I never brought any girl here, with the exception of Sarah, of course, but much to my disappointment, she isn't really into tacos, which makes it exclusively our thing” he winked at you and you nodded, a small, petty side of you felt thankful for the confirmation of Angela never been there with Joel. It was just a taco shop and yet, it was still one thing that it was so yours and Joel's and she hadn't ruined it with her touch. You felt even hungrier at that moment, relaxing to know you could have a peaceful dinner with your good memories and the man who somehow still managed to make you blush, stammer a little and sweat through your hands.

As you both munched on the food sitting down in the back of his truck, just like you did every Friday night more than a decade ago, you chuckled at how things change but somehow remain the same. He tilted his head to the side, wiping a little bit of sauce you had over your cheek, exactly like when you both were younger.

“I know this probably tastes like shit, compared to the food you've had over the years when you traveled all over the world, you know Sarah told me all about it because she really admires you an-”

You took his hand and squeezed it, then placed your hand on his chin making him look into your eyes.

“Joel… this is the best taco I've ever had, the most delicious takeout I've ever tried because you are here with me..” she whispered and smiled, seeing how his face lit up. Neither of you said it, but you were finally having that date he asked you out several months ago, when destiny decided to put the two of you together. As he saw you shivering in the cold wind, he did the honorable thing and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulder and rubbing both of your arms. You thanked him and looked all over his truck

“We spent quite a while in here…” you shrugged “and to think I lost my virginity here… you've always been a real gentleman” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. Joel laughed and sighed

“Yeah, well, I've come along nicely, give me a chance and I'll show you” he winked, flirting a little as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Are you serious?! Fuck off, Joel Miller! No guy will ever fuck me in the back of a truck, and especially not you!” You slapped his arm playfully, hugging it and resting your chin on his shoulder, feeling the wind against your face and looking up at him.

“Joel? Can you do us both a favor?” He nodded at you wanting to hear whatever question you had to ask him “please don't let Sarah marry the first asshole she falls in love with”

“I'm on it” he replied, laughing softly and pulling you closer. Closer than you'd ever been to him, he just wished that night wouldn't end too soon.

•••

Lying in Sarah's bed was odd, to say the least; especially when Joel's room was just there, a hallway distant from you. After the moment - better saying, the moments you both had shared in the past few days and even more so that night, you felt things would escalate to another level, a level in which it didn't matter to you if it was right or wrong, It was just bound to happen. But once you got to his home, he showed you his daughter's room, the bathroom, and asked if you needed anything else and simply let you be. Which was what you wanted, it was what you had asked him to do the last time you'd shared a kiss, but at the same time you felt disappointed because you wanted more of him, more of your Joel. The sweet moments you'd spent together were weighing so heavily in your heart, and even if you hadn't forgotten about what happened, the new proximity brought a new light in your relationship with Joel; it felt nice and different, a good different and as much as you closed your eyes and tried falling asleep, you were simply taken back to the moment he held you, soothed you, caressed your skin and assured you everything was alright. Tossing and turning in bed while you wished you were somewhere else instead, anywhere really, as long as he was just next to you. At first, when the gentle strumming from the guitar got to your ears, you imagined you had dozed off for a few minutes, perhaps you had even started to dream, but when your eyes were wide open and the beautiful, familiar sound wouldn't cease, you knew that only meant one thing: Joel was playing the guitar.

It couldn't come from his bedroom, the sound was too far to be coming from there, so you knew you would have to get up and explore. Suddenly, you felt a wave of excitement. Not only did you love watching Joel play the guitar, but now you had a pretty decent and reasonable excuse to go after him. You didn't want to make things weird and be that kind of person to leave the other confused, with your dubious signs, but you were just following your heart at that moment.

You tiptoed through his house, doing your best to move in the dark, as you didn't want to startle Joel or make him think you wanted the music to stop. And then your heart skipped a beat when you looked through the window and saw him playing the guitar on his porch. The cold wind that bothered you when you both were out eating tacos seemed to have stopped, and just then you realized it was indeed warm inside the house. He was so relaxed, strumming his guitar and humming a song softly, you've always loved his singing voice, even if he was a little shy about it, you could sit down and watch him play and sing for hours. You opened the door quietly and rested against the doorframe, admiring it quietly the way he looked focused at his guitar. He played calmly and it was the most beautiful sight you could ever think of. You wouldn't be able to tell exactly how long you stood there, but when Joel looked up at you, you were already walking towards him.

“That was beautiful, Joel…”

“Just like you are, darlin'”

You both knew exactly what you wanted at that moment, how you took another step closer, one after the other and you suddenly were hovering over him. Joel placed his guitar down, he wasn't going to be able to hold himself back, not at that moment. In one single motion, he pulled you to him by the hips, a tight grasp around your body and kissing you deeply. You straddled Joel, your hands making their familiar way towards his curls, loving how they always felt under your touch. Unlike the other times you'd kissed, you knew you would both go all the way down, you wanted it, craved it and even if you knew what to do and where to touch, it also felt new, you were both were the same young couple who'd been so in love, newly married and full of hopes and dreams, but you were also a couple who'd lived separately for more than a decade, you had both experienced heartbreaks, passions, you'd tried and touched other people, but eventually, just like home, it you were drawn to each other. There was no way out. When you were shamelessly humping and groaning on top of him, Joel knew it was time to take things inside, to hell with his neighbors, he didn't care if any of them witnessed it, if anything, he wanted people to see what a lucky bastard he was to have you in his arms, that he was going to take you and make you his at least once more. So he got up, lifting you up easily, so easily, and took you inside, climbing stairs with you in his arms, he longed for you, he was hungry for your body, your taste, your touch. He needed you and Joel Miller was about to take it all. He placed you over his mattress and got rid of his shirt - his dark blue one, that looked so good on him - and let your hands wander his body. He didn't take long to undress you, nibbling your thighs in the process, he knew your body like the palm of his hand, with the exception the last time he'd visited it, his palm wasn't as calloused as it was now, just as you weren't so painfully hot as you were at that moment. You'd always been gorgeous, but at that moment, naked in his bed, it was the most beautiful and erotic thing he'd ever seen and yet he wanted it to make it forever. As he got inside of you, he didn't know how long it would last, how long you both would last, you were being way nicer and more compassionate than he would ever deserve it, but at the same time, something within said you shared the same feelings for each other.

Once you both reached your bliss, love bites, kissings, caresses and so much affection between you both, you relaxed into his arms, your head resting comfortably in his chest, and you felt at home. You still didn't know what the next day would bring you both. Perhaps you would stay together, or you would part ways for good, there was still so much to be done, to spoken, you would have to handle the fact and the consequences of not using protection with Joel, maybe that was a good reason to worry about , or not, you didn't want to think of it, just as you didn't want to think of how you both could ever explain to Sarah what happened, or how Joel would explain Tommy and you would explain your family how you got together, maybe even one day Angela could return, you'd learned the hard way life wasn't a bed of roses and you feared that if you agreed to be happy with Joel once more you would get hurt, one way or another, but all that wasn't important, not at that moment. All it mattered was you and your Joel in bed, snuggled up and worrying about nothing but each other. He nuzzled your neck, making you giggle and in return you pecked his lips once more. He wanted to say those three little words, but decided not to, not yet, instead, he wanted to show you it, now he'd had a taste of you, and he vowed himself to make you happy for the rest of his life.

He knew he had broken your heart, it was the worst thing Joel Miller had ever done, but he was going to win you back, because he wasn't going to give up happiness with you, not again.

____

A/N: besties, how did I do? Did you like it? I hope you did! I honestly had planned on writing a sad ending, I was going to make reader move on from Joel once for all, but then, is it even possible to get over him? It's impossible not to fall for him and give him a second chance. A third part is possible but I have no idea when, and feedback is always welcome my lovelies ❤️💕

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